Chapter 829 (1/2)

BOOOOOM.

The Spearman’s eyes narrowed to slits to look at the razor-sharp point of the scorpion tail that was only a few scant finger widths from his eye. This is why I needed to kill this thing, Ethe. Because it uses your weapon. The perfect needle. And that I cannot forgive.

The First Propagator twisted its tail, dislodging the Spearman’s vice grip and retreating a bit away to make room for the group to be well and surrounded. The other side of the portal led to a high dias in Icklid. There, waiting for the Spearman, was the First Propagator, Aegiant Wyrd, and Aethon Thai.

And another army of Witch Kings in bristling ranks.

Pressing his lips into a line, the Spearman scanned them. There weren’t any that appeared to have any strength beyond the Witch King level; it appeared it hadn’t had enough time to make more Propagators. But the Witch Kings would still gum up the other fights going on. And the Spearman-

-had to twist out of the way as the tail struck again, fast as lightning. Even to the Spearman, that attack was dangerous. Seeing his awkward dodge, the First Propagator chuckled. “Truly, you’ve given up your images? This will be too easy. Die, Auto Rach. Rest knowing this world will finally prosper without you.”

Roaring, the Spearman rushed forward. Aegiant and Aethon let him pass without comment. Their eyes were on the three assistants he had brought with him.

Inwardly, the Spearman sneered. Fools. Did they think they could triumph two versus three, against Versault and the Oracle? They would soon be shredded to pieces. Those two had been with him since the beginning. They couldn't hold their own against these imitators.

As if hearing some unspoken signal, the Witch Kings began to rush toward. The Spearman reached out casually and smashed a few Witch Kings that drew too near, but they were an endless tide. Even with the Skills of Versault, this would be difficult to deal with easily.

The First Propagator leapt up onto a pillar and scuttled toward the ceiling. Narrowing his eyes, the Spearman decided to try and ignore it and dash through the entranceway to the lower part of the tower, where he could feel his images were… morphing. Reaching that process and stopping it was his goal. If this glorified bug would give him an opening, he would gladly take it.

But the First Propagator dropped like a stone right when the Spearman rushed forward, its tail flicking outward in rapid thrusts that forced the Spearman to stop. The Spearman's eyes burned as he glared at the monster in front of him. Truly, without relying on images, this would be difficult. Even he would have a hard time surviving a sting from this monster.

Instead, what he would need to do was find a way to take the tail out of the equation…

The Spearman advanced, even as he heard battle being joined behind him. His eyes remained on the tail, but this time the First Propagator swiped at him with its hammer-like claws. Growling, the Spearman smacked those blows aside and then had to lean to the side to avoid a stab from the tail.

“I will crack you open and drink your blood this time, monster.” The Spearman hissed.

The First Propagator seemed to shrug. “Can you even beat me, without betrayal and without your images? I think not. Besides, I have decided to have a name now. I will need it, now that my images have helped Tellus ascend. I will be… Adethe, in honor of those who birthed me.”

For a second, the name hung in the air as the Spearman tried to place it. Then the Spearman’s vision went red. He smashed his foot against the ground and rushed the damned monster as fast as he could. His steps were smooth as he weaved through the blurring thrusts of the tail to close the distance. “You are without images as well. And you were always the one to rely on them as a crutch-! For daring to even use a portion of her name, I will end you.”

Their bodies smashed together, both struggling for supremacy with lightning-quick blows that shook the entire tower with their force. Several times Witch Kings cautiously approached, only to be smashed away by an accidental blow or a shockwave.

The order of magnitude of these two was on another level entirely.

*****

Shal reestablished his balance and lowered his spear until the point was directed at the chest of his mother.

He knew it was her; he knew it immediately. The energy was a dead giveaway, but the way she fought was what truly put it beyond any doubt. Sneaking a glance at Randidly, Shal had dubiously regarded Lucretia. Randidly had told Shal that he would provide an opponent that Shal was simply to duel with for a while without winning, to buy time for Randidly to free himself up. Once they both were free, the plan would continue.

Shal had begun with doubts that Lucretia would be able to slow him down now that he had matured. Then she smashed him in the chest, slamming him into one of the nearby fountains. Hot rock and specks of lava burned small holes in his shirt as he struggled to right himself.