The word "Haste" was a desperate scream ripped from my throat, not a calm incantation. I managed to cast it twice, layering the orange glow over myself. The world around me slowed to a crawl. I could hear my heartbeat as a sluggish, heavy drum in my ears.
Even with my perception accelerated to 4 times its normal speed, I couldn't see him move. There wasn't a blur. One moment, Allen was standing there. The next, he was simply in front of me, having closed the distance without any of the conventional steps or dashes that should have preceded it. The only evidence of the fact it was movement and not teleportation was the grass at his feet, bent and flattered as if by a sudden, localized hurricane.
Then, he threw a kick. A simple, almost casual kick aimed at my head. In any other circumstances, my brain, conditioned by years of HEMA nitpicking, would have spent a full minute internally screaming about the biomechanical impossibility of it – no proper wind-up, posture posture being all wrong, off-set center of gravity. It belonged to a cheap action movie. But there was no time for my pedantic sword-nerd commentary. The only thing I felt was the instinct to survive. I wrenched my head back. My neck screamed in protest to my own Haste'd movement.
It wasn't enough.
The air itself was a deadly weapon. An invisible shockwave, not created by magic, erupted from his leg as it moved. It was sheer air pressure, from a sheer physical power. My Contingency Shield, triggered instantly. The golden-yellow barrier of force, capable of stopping a God, materialized between us.
It lasted a microsecond.
The pressure wave hit it, and the Shield didn't just break. It shattered, exploding into a million shards of dissipating light that was hurting my eyes. The concussive force that followed wasn't blunted in the slightest. It felt like a giant had slapped me across the face with a slab of granite. The skin on my cheeks and forehead split open in a fine, horizontal line, as if sliced by invisible razor. A hot, wet sensation trickled down my face.
And the force kept going.
It passed over my shoulder and hit the mansion behind me. There was no explosion, no dramatic fireball. It was cleaner, and thus, more terrifying. A slightly tilted line of pure power sheared through the stone of the building as if it were a hot wire passing through butter. For a moment, the entire upper floor of the mansion simply slid sideways with a grating, soul-annihilating shriek of tortured stone. Then, it collapsed in on itself in a thunderous roar of pulverized masonry and shattered wood. Dust billowed out in a great gray cloud. Elaina. Boldwyn. Alaric. They were still in there, peacefully sleeping. That thought made me want to vomit.
My second Contingency, linked to Cure Wounds, activated. The green flash on my face sealed the cut and wiped away the blood. No scar remained. But what remained were the ruins of the building, and the man who had caused it. He was still standing before me, relaxed, as if he wasn't in a middle of a fight... I want to cave in his face so hard! But what I want more is...
Following some primal instinct, I had to twist my head and look at the former Tiny Hut, mentally praying to any god that would listen – even that creepy cube-and-eye one – that my friends were safe.
CLANG!
The sound was deafening blast of impact that vibrated through my bones. It was the sound of two impossibly hard objects meeting with cataclysmic force. Similar to when Alaric stopped Seraphine's hammer, but a thousand times louder. I had already flinched, covered my head with my hands and braced for decapitation I was sure was coming. I probably wouldn't die – Spare the Dying, Cure Wounds and Revivify would activate normally, but the pain... I was not looking forward to that pain.
Slowly, I lowered my arms and turned.
Alaric was there. And once again, I was happy to see him come. He had intercepted... something. His new, simple longsword was held in high guard, trembling violently from the impact. The strangest part wasn't his timely arrival – I got used to it – but the world-tearing sound that I just heard. Allen hadn't used any weapon. He had thrown a simple, straight punch, and Alaric had blocked it with his blade. A man's bare fist against tempered steel, and the sound was that of two swords clashing. I could see the point of impact on Alaric's blade – a small, bright spot. The steel was almost melting from that attack. What the hell is this guy's skin made of?!
"Who the hell is that?!", Alaric grunted through clenched teeth.
"The same guy who took all the quests! I wanted to meet him, but... it turned ugly!", I yelled back.
I could see the struggle on Alaric's face. This was different from his fight with Seraphine. Against the High Inquisitor, it had been a battle of overwhelming power and brutal techniques. And yet, when he saved me, he easily held back her hammer. But this time, he was pulling all his strength into holding his ground as his fit dug trenches into the soft earth. All that, to stop a simple straight punch.
"Tài ruòle", Allen said in a monotone.
I didn't need a translator. The contempt was a universal language.
"Haste! Haste! Shield!", I chanted in frenzy, layering every supportive Spell that came to mind in the midst of the fight, onto Alaric.
The orange glow of Haste intensified around him, and fresh Shield barrier shimmered brightly at night, almost hurting my Darkvision'ed eyes.
But it didn't help.
Allen grabbed Alaric's sword with his bare hand – not by the flat, but the edge. He didn't even flinch. No red dot appeared on his palm. As Alaric tried to recover his sword from the iron grasp, the enemy launched another kick. This time, it was a knee kick, aimed at swordsman's stomach. It was much more powerful than the kick he used against me. If it connects, it's an instant death.
Suddenly, the mystery man disappeared. he was a few meters away the next time I saw him. Again, the bent grass became the only proof of his movement. And that jump back was done in the perfect time – just enough to dodge the rain of fire. Thin arrows of flames fell down, and extinguished as they hit the ground, probably controlled to not start an actual wildfire. Elaina was beside me, pointing an open hand towards the battlefield.
Alaric himself could barely dodge that onslaught by jumping back. Boldwyn was also here, walking from behind the witch. Only now I could take a good look at my allies – they were all in pajama-like clothes, and nothing else. But, at times like that, you truly don't have time to change into the adventurer attire. And regardless, I am simply happy they are all here, alive and well. Unlike against Seraphine, we will fight together. Perhaps, 4 versus 1, we stand a chance.
I cast Guidance, Darkvision, Haste x2, Shield, Bless, Enhance Ability and Holy Weapon on everyone – except Alaric, as he already had double Haste. That was pretty much every single Spell I could think of at the moment, without going into high level ones. But if it will continue as is... I may consider actually crossing the danger line.
Allen stands calmly, looking at us. He sighs and quietly mumbles something to himself. The edgelord extends his arm and waves his fingers at himself, "inviting" us to attack... the audacity of that man! However, we can't fall for that provocation. Despite him looking like an idiot, he is someone who can easily beat us all. So if we fall for it...
"Just you wait!", Alaric shouted, as he ran towards Allen.
God damn it, Alaric!
The strength and speed with which Alaric swung his sword down was astonishing. With just the beginning of this simple attack, he split the clouds up in the sky. The perfectly still night sky and full moon shined at us. It was absurd. The sheer mass of the clouds... no, Kyle, it's not the time for physics lessons!
And even that overwhelming strength that quite literally could separate the heavens... wasn't enough.
Despite the power, despite Alaric's good structure, despite chain of the body, despite great edge alignment, despite everything... the enemy blocked the blade with a single finger. All that power, granted by training, sudden change of attire he had back then in Othburten, all my Spells, it was all like pouring water into a bottomless pit. It didn't seem to make a difference. From what I could see, he didn't even bleed! It wasn't Alaric's fault this time, his attack was great from technique's perspective... we're just... hilariously outclassed in strength, speed, durability, and seemingly everything else!
"Nǐ jiù zhè diǎn běnshì?"
I still have no idea what he says.
With almost lazy motion, Allen swiped his hand, pulling Alaric's sword away from the hero's hand and tossing it aside. Then, he launched the same punch as one stopped by Alaric before. And it landed. Straight to the solar plexus. Shield I gave him broke as if it wasn't even there. There was no dramatic cry, no gasping for air. Alaric's eyes just went wide for a fraction of second, before light in them vanished. His body was limp as it flew past by me.
"Revivify!"
I didn't see a wound. I didn't check his body. I just knew. He wasn't hurt. He was dead. At the same instant, my mind, running on pure fear, unleashed a volley of debilitating magic at our attacker.
"Slow! Slow! Slow! Slow! Slow! Bane!"
Five times I layered the temporal shackles, dividing his speed by 32. He should have been frozen solid, as a cold statue. On top of that, the purple glow of Bane was there to twist his very actions against him.
It was all for nothing.
A transparent blue screen, like something from a video game interface, appeared directly in front of Allen's face. The text was reversed, meant for his eyes, but, probably due to my Comprehend Languages I just used, I could easily read it. It read "Debuff nullified".
...huh?
My hands twitched.
The hell you mean, nullified?!
But he did slow down. Not because of my Spells, but because she chose it. Instead of light-speed dashes from before, he simply began to walk. Slowly. Deliberately. The man was moving with a confidence of someone taking a stroll through a park. He took a step towards me, Elaina and Boldwyn... wait, no, it was just me and the elf, where the hell is Boldwyn?! Did he run away?!
Wait, no! While Allen's attention was on us, the dwarf appeared from the edgelord's shadow – an ability I never knew he even had – with both daggers held in reverse grip – but I didn't complain, daggers are actually good in reverse grip – and aimed for the kidneys. It was a perfect sneak attack. Even back on Earth, sneak attacks always work – it doesn't matter if your opponent is way more experienced than you, you will always win the fight if your enemy doesn't know you're fighting them.
It never landed.
A crimson hexagon of energy appeared behind Allen with a low hum. Boldwyn's dagger struck it with a sound like a bell being rung, and the blade, made of what I assume was good dwarven metal, didn't just bounce off. It shattered, broken into microscopic shards. The force of impact, defying all laws of physics, traveled up Boldwyn's arm, and I heard a distinct snap. Our rogue cried out, as he fell to his knees, holding his arm.
"My hand!", he yelled, clutching his now-useless wrist.
What is happening?! This is worse than Seraphine. So much worse. She had strength and, I suppose, years of training. This is different. He isn't a warrior, he is a force of nature. It's like we are bare-handed children trying to fight a grown adult... who was also in a modern military tank.
At that moment, Alaric, revived by my Spell, gasped a lungful of air back into his body. He scrambled to his feet, snatching his sword from the ground. Something had changed in him. His hair began to float around his head, just as it had at the end of his fight with High Inquisitor. I assumed it was some kind of empowered state, similar to form swap or an Install Super.
"Nǐ shènzhì bù pèi wǒ làngfèi shíjiān."
Whatever was it Allen said, it had a sound of deep disappointment. He snapped his fingers. It was the most casual, effortless gesture imaginable. No build-up of energy, no flash of light. Alaric's head simply separated from his shoulders. It soared through the night sky. Back on Earth it would be a home run. Headless body remained standing for a second longer, and then crumpled like a puppet with its strings cut.
Elaina screamed. It wasn't a scream of fear, but one of pure, perfect rage and hatred. I could physically feel her magical power grow. The air around her crackled with raw energy. It seems like she was getting stronger through her emotions... I learn a lot of new things about my party today, huh... well, no matter! It's a classic trope I mocked in stories, but now it was exactly what we needed! Combined with my previously cast Enhance Ability, maybe, just maybe, she could do something.
She thrust both hands forward. The night sky above us vanishing. Clouds that Alaric split were still nowhere to be seen. What covered the sky was fire. Countless orbs of magical flame blossomed in night's sky, rising the air temperature. Each was about the size of my head. A swirling, incandescent constellation of destruction. They blotted out the moon and stars, painting the hill in hellish, flickering orange glow. Some hung in air, while others shot towards Allen in waves, like a meteor shower.
He didn't run. He didn't even change his pace. He is still walking towards us. In his hands, a weapon materialized. A polearm. A glaive, or, perhaps, a guandao, with a gracefully curved blade on one end, sharp spike on the other, and a red tassel that hangs calmly despite the chaos. It's ridiculously ornate, covered in engravings that probably, once again, meant nothing. But its appearance is irrelevant. What was relevant is that he was finally using a tool... in other words, he probably became more deadly than before, even if I didn't think it was possible. He hefted the polearm, preparing a wide, sweeping swing.
I wouldn't let him complete it.
"Hold Person!", I yelled, putting every ounce of my will into the command, trying to freeze him at least until the fire hits him.
Another blue screen. "Debuff nullified".
He completed the swing. It wasn't a fast motion, but it didn't need to be fast. His guandao didn't meet the fireballs head-on. It caught them, waved them into the arc of its movement. In an instant, the hundreds of individual fire orbs were swept up, twisted and merged into a single, colossal tornado of flame. It roared and crackled. Then, it started moving. Directly towards Elaina and me. The remaining firebolts in the sky were sucked into the vortex, literally adding fuel to the fire.
"Enhance Ability! Shield!", I screamed, manifesting an empowered wall between us two and the fire storm.
"Wall of Frost", Elaina cried out.
2 walls, one golden-orange, and one of pure blue-white ice, radiating an intense cold that I could feel from meters away, appeared simultaneously.
The fire tornado hit our double-layered defense. The Wall of Frost didn't stop it. It quenched it. The flames hissed and died against the unyielding cold, and the storm dissipated into a cloud of steam and fading embers. For a single, hopeful heartbeat, I thought we had done it.
Then, our actual enemy broke through. He didn't go around the melting ice, nor did he slice it. He dashed straight through it, as his body shattered both magical ice and my shield, as if this barrier was nothing but a window glass. In the same fluid motion, now directly in front of stunned Elaina, he reversed his grip on the guandao and slammed the blunt end of the shaft horizontally into the side of her head.
There was a cracking sound. The shaft didn't just strike her. For a moment, I saw it being embedded in her skull. Her eyes lost focus instantly. That was death. Quick, brutal and absolute. Her body collapsed on the ground, and the powerful magical aura that just appeared around her went out like a snuffed candle.
But he didn't stop after it. The weapon spun in his hand, and the bladed end pointed directly at my heart. I was next.
"Hold Person", I tried again.
"Debuff nullified".
At that very moment, Boldwyn, fueled by pain and fury, launched himself forward again. His right hand was a mangled ruin, but he held the second dagger in his left. After yelling something "Taste my ultimate technique!", he moved with a speed I couldn't follow. Similar to Allen's movements, there wasn't even blur.
It didn't matter.
Allen, without even looking, reached back with his free hand. His palm met Boldwyn's forehead, stopping the dwarf's charge dead. There was no struggle. It's like he stopped a toddler mid-tantrum. Edgelord held Boldwyn there, suspended in the air for a moment, then, with the strength rivaling, or even outmatching Alaric's, slammed him down into the ground. The sound of cracking bones was sickeningly loud. Boldwyn didn't get up.
Now, truly, it's just him and me. I am out of allies, out of tricks. Even if I do revive them, they won't be fast enough to come to save me. And even if they do, he will just kill them again. I feel nothing but fear. I stumble backwards, as my legs give way, and fall down, landing hard on my backside. I scramble backwards, crawling through the dirt like a frightened animal. My eyes locked on the emotionless face of the man who had just killed my entire party in under 30 seconds. He looked down at me, as blood that recently sprayed on his face from when he destroyed Elaina's skull was drying up.
"Gate!", I yelled.
I created a portal inside his chest, going to cut him apart. I could feel the spatial rift being suppressed and destroyed within his body.
"Imprisonment!", I screamed.
I tried banishing him from this space and time. Space around him twisted for a moment, but then returned to normal.
"Demiplane!", I shouted.
It was my last effort. I was no longer afraid of high-level Spells or eldritch gazes. I afraid of him. The world around us changed. The grassy hill and starry night vanished, just to be replaced by the infinite star-dusted blackness of my pocket dimension. It was a whole, complete, infinite universe, where I could do anything. I just needed to think of him dying-
He didn't give me the chance. He simply looked around, unimpressed, and swung his guandao once.
It wasn't even a particularly powerful swing, nor was it a precise one. The air cracked, as a spiderweb of glowing, black lines spread from the tip of his blade, racing across my fabricated world. The stars faded. The grass died out. The space and time itself began to shatter like stained glass, with its infinite shards disappearing before they can hit the ground. The universe I had built, where I could be a god, was destroyed with a single strike. My world collapsed, and we were back on the hill, as the cold night air returned me to my senses.
"S-stop! I'm not your enemy! I'm-", I begged.
I saw the glint of the guandao's blade as it thrust forward. My Shield Spell activated with its related Contingency, but it did nothing. It shattered like thin late-autumn ice. I felt Spare the Dying Contingency on me activate, just to be overwritten and erased. All the other Contingencies I had been simply negated, erased by weapon's passage. I knew it wasn't a dispelling. It was something else entirely.
Only then I felt it. The cold steel piercing my chest. There was a moment of intense, shocking pressure, and then an explosion of agony as the blade tore through muscle, sinew and organs. Light fled from my eyes, and my vision grew dark, even despite Darkvision. Or was Darkvision also dispelled by his polearm? I can't even say. I try to gasp "Spare the Dying", to cling to life by my fingernails, but the sound won't leave my throat. Iron tang of my own blood fills my mouth.
I fall onto my back, and the world tilts like the Tower of Pisa. Last thing I see is Allen looking down at me, taht same blue screen floating in front of his dispassionate face. He said:
"Hng. Qiánlì shàng kě. Xìtǒng, fǔzhù nà rén."
My consciousness is fading. I hear a series of faint, electronic beeps, and a sound of something small flying through the air.
Then, I couldn't fight any longer. I surrendered to the darkness, and I thought no more.