Chapter 613: Wyverns (1/2)
Chapter 613 Wyverns
“Why don’t you do the honors,” Ilea said, looking at the elf flying near her.
She started charging Heart of Cinder, feeling the heat build up within her core. Kyrian had exceeded her expectations, but she wouldn’t let herself be outdone.
What an interesting set of isles, she thought, watching the next chain fly off into the distance. Might be a good idea to train here for a while. If I can hunt these overgrown Drakes in groups, it’ll be more effective than even Hunter Praetorians.
Feyrair flew past them, spreading his arms wide to welcome the Northern Bluetail.
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Kyrian focused on recalling his metal. He couldn’t manipulate the steel at that distance beyond pulling it towards himself. The Blutail struggled against his hold, stronger than the last one but not by much. About level seven hundred. If he had to battle it directly, the fight would take some time.
The curse circle remained prepared, just in case it would be needed. Feyrair was close to level four hundred, just seventeen levels lower than him but the confidence the elf exuded was on an entirely different level.
He had his reservations of course. Plenty had been said about Elves and he knew of the atrocities they had committed in the independent cities of the west. Nothing close to what humanity did to itself but it was always easier to put blame and anger on someone different. Feyrair was just one of them however, and Kyrian wouldn’t judge the elf by the actions of his people.
He perceived that Ilea didn’t seem to be bothered at all either, her confidence in the elf about as high as his was for himself. Feyrair would be trustworthy at least, otherwise Ilea wouldn’t have brought him with her.
For them it’s not a struggle, something to be overcome each and every day. It’s what they thrive in, he thought, watching the excited elf increase the power of his peculiar flames. Ilea too was preparing some kind of spell, either to help him if need be, or for when she would face one of the Bluetails herself.
Kyrian would have to lie if he said he didn’t find at least some enjoyment in these fights. Exploring caverns, fighting more experienced Bluetails, some with different magic tricks than others. Or just facing off against the Golems left behind in the various keeps, the battles coupled with traps scattered through the halls proving quite challenging as well. He knew how powerful he had become, he knew what he could do. And he trusted his abilities. In that way he had become more confident than ever before.
And still. He had doubted his friend again. Of course she came for you. Why would you insult her like that?
He shook his head lightly. This train of thought wasn’t helping, in any way. It would just take time to adjust again. Meditation had helped, as did the Vrayar, but these past years had taken a toll. One difficult to pin point.
Kyrian threw two more chains and added as much spin to them as he could through magic. His curse was already spreading through the creature, making it slightly sluggish. The added Blight would help too, especially against the Bluetails. One last pull brought the monster crashing down into the mountain side, a satisfying shriek resounding.
He grinned lightly, remembering all the times he had nearly been killed by these damned birds. Four days prior was his last near death encounter if he recalled correctly. He pushed the chains down, adding weight to them as he let the flails dig into the ground.
The Bluetail pushed away, ripping one chain free before the thing snapped around its body once more.
Kyrian felt a surge of heat and magic, the elf expanding into what looked like a winged Wyvern. A dragon? he asked himself, watching as the creature came down hard on the Bluetail.
They were about the same size, Feyrair’s red body exuding white flame. “Set it free,” he said, his voice a gravelly whisper.
Kyrian didn’t mind, removing his chains with a quick motion, the metal returning to him. This time he had the links attach to his armor, just in case the elf failed to restrain the beast and he needed a little more strength to his steel.
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Ilea watched as Feyrair tackled the Bluetail, claws and teeth digging into scaled armor as their magic clashed.
Which dragon creature wins this one? she asked herself. The Bluetail had the level advantage. Its movements were quicker and it hit harder too. But Feyrair regenerated quickly and he was vastly more experienced. Where the Bluetail had likely hunted far inferior prey throughout its life, Feyrair was the opposite.
He dodged the more precise attacks from the creature, using the constant heat and fire of his body to slowly injure the being. One claw attack managed to lodge itself into the Bluetail’s neck, the damage itself not substantial but it allowed Feyrair to use his breath attack in a direct and continuous manner while avoiding retaliation.
The monster’s eyes were burnt before it managed to get free. But now that its perception was impaired, it had difficulties responding effectively.
Feyrair disengaged, circling the roaring monster, occasionally rushing in to deliver a strike with his burning claws, ripping out scales and flesh before he retreated once more. White flame clung to a large part of the creature’s body, slowing regeneration and continuously damaging it.
The Bluetail sent waves of air and torrents of water at the dragonling, its attacks now too inaccurate to provide more than a slight deterrent.
It’s not trying to flee either, Ilea thought, wondering where on the spectrum of monster and animal the being really was. The definition wasn’t really clear but to her, monsters attacked no matter how injured they were, whereas an animal would likely prioritize its own survival, or that of their young.
The creature roared again, rushing Feyrair directly, without using any magic.
Ilea smiled, knowing the elf would take the challenge head on. Wise? Maybe not. Impressive? Also no. But it was expected. She hoped he wouldn’t die against the frenzied monster.
The two tumbled down the side of the mountain, spells flaring up, fire, wind, and water splashing over the half frozen stone ground as their claws and teeth ripped into scales and flesh.
“Should we intervene?” Kyrian asked.
“Oh no, he’s very hard to kill,” Ilea said, just giving him a quick glance before she focused back on the fight. Just in case she actually did have to intervene. But the Bluetails didn’t seem to have regeneration on par with an Executioner. More importantly it seemed Kyrian was right and the Bluetails really weren’t the brightest.
“He turned into a dragon,” Kyrian remarked as they flew a little closer to the two large brawling creatures.
Both showed plenty of injuries now, only the Bluetail however unable to heal them.
“He did. But to be honest, for how old he is and how he fights, it’s surprising that he’s not long past level six or seven hundred,” Ilea said.
“He didn’t strike me as particularly old,” Kyrian said.
“I mean it’s not like I’ve seen his birth certificate,” Ilea said. “But I suppose if you fight the same creatures all the time, you’re not going to advance quite as quickly.”
“No. You stagnate. Only the highest level Bluetails I could manage still made me level in the last few months,” Kyrian said. “I assume you mean the Taleen?”
“Yes. They do have higher leveled machines but they’re supposedly quite rare,” she said. “Not that I can attest to that based on the last few months.”
Thousands in Iz, just as many in Izla.
Feyrair finally managed to grapple the injured Bluetail, biting deep into its neck as his flames expanded. He jerked his head to the side and tore off the Wyvern’s head with a loud ripping sound.
The elf returned to his normal form, wounds and armor regenerating as he stumbled a few steps.
“These creatures are fantastic!” he exclaimed as his wings spread again.
Are we the baddies? Ilea asked herself as she looked at the bloodied and tore apart corpses. She sighed, reminding herself that these weren’t some random animals grassing on a peaceful meadow. They were Wyvern like monsters attacking without provocation, if Kyrian’s words could be believed. And if she trusted anybody to tell the truth, it was him.
“You don’t seem pleased?” Feyrair asked.
“You didn’t even nearly die,” Ilea murmured, flying a little higher.
“That was a level seven hundred Bluetail,” Kyrian murmured.
Feyrair laughed. “What do you have in mind then?”
Ilea watched the distant group of Bluetails, four of them remaining now. They were flying closer to their mountain but didn’t seem to be interested much in the fires that had flared up due to the fight. Instead they were flying lower and towards the ocean.
She charged up Monster Hunter and cupped her hands in front of her mouth, roaring a challenge towards the beings.
“I hope you two are ready,” she said and activated Phaseshift.
The Bluetails swerved towards them as soon as the sound had reached them, their screeches and roars reverberating on the mountain side as they came to meet the challenge.