Marktavious Nicholson: Mana Space Domain: Present
A roar erupted from the Miasma Kroc as my roots dragged him across the ground. Whether it was out of pain or anger, I did not know, but it didn't matter. It had proven to be equally as formidable as the vampire outside my mana space. Both of these poisonous bastards made magic difficult to perform. However, I was not alone in this fight against the Miasma Kroc.
Perched on my shoulders was Fawkes, who had contained his shock and fear. His eyes locked onto the Miasma Kroc with an intensity that I dared not interrupt. The once cocky fox stared daggers sharp enough to cut as he manipulated the roots that dragged our adversary.
"The vampire is on his final legs, but I can't hold the spell for much longer. My body-"
"I know, but this creature is proving too difficult to purge. It has this dense toxicity to it, Old Man. I've never seen anything like it," Fawkes said, frowning.
"Our newest friend says that it's miasma, so I'm not too surprised. If we hadn't fought the Ravager, then we would not have been in this predicament. I'm aware of that, but I feel in my core that we can somehow salvage this situation," I replied.
The young fox turned his head my way, and in that brief window, the roots binding the Miasma Kroc snapped from its might. Our eyes widened as the creature slammed its tail and shattered the ground. The impact shook the ground with a tremor that carved a fissure.
While it wasn't a threat to us at the moment, I still took the initiative to leap backward just in case. Fawkes held onto my shoulder and let out a soft apology. I didn't hold it against him, but then again, I didn't have any time to do so. The Miasma Kroc rolled onto its stomach and pushed itself to its feet. Its cold blue eyes locked onto me, and in a single bound, it was heading my way.
Fawkes yelped in my ear, which startled more than the nearly three-hundred-pound monster slamming into my barrier. The crash with the barrier stunned it briefly, causing it to shake its head profusely. Given that this was my opportunity, I decided to forgo my usual magical means to dispatch of it.
"The hard way it is then, Fawkes, watch my six," I instructed.
The young fox yelped once again as I moved to meet the creature before it could regroup. Before I could slam into the Miasma Kroc's legs, Fawkes leapt to the safety of our magical barrier. I used my body as a battering ram and shot for a double leg takedown of the creature, which I soon found more difficult than I anticipated.
This thing was denser than a motherfucker, and its tail kept it balanced despite its confusion. Claws threatened to bury themselves into my waist, but thick roots sprouted to our sides and bound them.
"I got ya! I got ya!" Fawkes barked, partly out of excitement.
Considering my double-leg takedown was unsuccessful, I opted to readjust. I scrambled to my feet and noticed that a root was ensnaring our adversary's face as well.
'Good shit!'
I had neglected the Miasma Kroc's massive mouth despite nearly being devoured by it earlier. That was a mistake, but fortunately I had a backup up or else I'd have to divert even more mana to sustain my healing than necessary. It was already bad enough that the Deciet Realm felt like it was splitting me in two, but having to heal Fawkes and myself from the Miasma Kroc and then having to repair my external wounds was proving too costly for my current level.
With gritted teeth, I landed a stiff uppercut to the Miasma Kroc, causing its head to snap backward. Its eyes went wild as it lashed around in its bindings. Yet, there was not much that it could do with Fawkes binding it with Vine Bind, and I used it as a sandbag.
However, there was a truth that I had to come to terms with. Our approach was not working. I had landed ten punches, many of them body shots or uppercuts, but none of them were truly effective. The Miasma Kroc was truly a tank in every sense of the word. This situation made me wish that Qayshaun was here to crack this bastard open.
"I can't hold it for much longer, Old Man... I-It's... It's..."
The roots binding the Miasma Kroc snapped, and with its freedom, it attacked. With a thunderous roar, the creature buried its shoulder into my chest and hoisted me into the air. I crashed unceremoniously, but a small fall was the least of my concerns.
"Fuck!"
I couldn't help but curse as massive jaws locked onto my forearm. My bones were broken, and blood splurted like a tube of toothpaste. I couldn't feel it any longer, but then again, I couldn't feel anything at the moment.
'What...No!'
Marktavious Nicholson- Kick-Rat Village: Present
The world around me shattered into shards, and my left eye burned with incredible power. It was as if the power sustaining my spell had collapsed in itself, and with it, the power of my eye waned sharply. My mind went blank, and the strength of my body left with it. I collapsed to my knees, and before I could register what had happened, a boot headed my way.
I was seeing stars briefly as I struggled to come to grips with what had happened. My body ached, but as the blurry world greeted me, I recognized a blur of colors standing over me.
'Black?...white?...pu-red?!'
As if a switch had been flipped, each of my senses returned with the urgency of a computer on dial-up internet. Blurred colors greeted my first, followed by the sounds of tearing fabric and snapping leather. My sense of self was the next to grasp my mind.
It was an odd experience. The strength that I once possessed had escaped as if it were sucked out of me. My limbs were numb to the point that I could not feel my tail.
'M-my head... what is happening?'
I was displaced, no, to be more accurate, it was as if I had been rejected from my mana space. My instincts clawed for me to move, but no matter what orders my brain produced, my body disobeyed.
'I... miscalculated...I overextended...'
In my act of defiance against both adversaries, I failed to recognize the foolishness of attempting a war on two fronts. Any decent general would advise against taking that action, and that has spelled disaster for us all. Fawkes, Claire, Mikangleo, and the Kick-Rats put their faith in my words. Despite my ignorance and less-than-ideal actions, they still looked to me for leadership.
A failure of this magnitude falls squarely on my shoulders, and no one else. That means that it is my responsibility to correct it. I have great power now, I know that, but responsibility was something I lacked. I took my powers to the brink without understanding it.
'On your feet, Marktavious. Your mama didn't raise a quitter...'
Willpower seemed to be a constant in this new world rather than convenient inputs. There is no waiting until a stamina debuff clears here. If I needed to move, then I must force my body to move, no matter the difficulty. Pain rippled throughout my body with a soreness that followed a devastating impact.
I would imagine swimming through a pool of jelly would be easier than just sitting up like I had just done. There was a lingering cloud within my mind, the haunting of a concussion, no doubt from the kick that took me down.
'One step... at a time...'
My body sluggishly obeyed, not out of courtesy, but out of desperation. I did not need to question who attacked me since Drajkovane was the clear culprit. I found myself staring into his colored blur as he carefully approached. I was glad that he exercised caution, but it also frightened me. I had cornered him, and it is common sense that a cornered animal fights hard for survival. I assumed he was aware of the same principle, which encouraged his caution.
"I will not fall for any more of your faked deaths anymore, Fox Man," Drajkovane said, but I detected a lack of confidence in his words.
He had started this battle arrogant and precise, but now, he walks instead of teleporting with his mist.
"I-I would imagine so," I sputtered, inhaling deeply. "Before you send me to meet with my ancestors, I had a request of you- Powerful fox man to powerful vampire."
"I owe you nothing," He replied coldly. "Your success so far was merely a fluke, created out of my own mistakes. You had no chance from the beginning."
"I-I'm aware. You managed to catch me at a low point, which I can admit is... pretty smart. On this occasion, you were the superior hunter. You were the Apex Predator."
His blur stopped in its tracks briefly.
"Indeed."
His final words were cold and unforgiving before he charged me. I could not muster enough mobility to mount a defense, nor could I force my legs to move to evade. Without a doubt, the vampire's hand swiped towards my neck would likely be fatal.
"It appears that this is the end of my story..."
Swipe!
Darkness greeted, but at this point, it became as familiar to me as I was to it. It brought me to this world, so here at my final moment, it is only fitting that it shows me the way out.
My eyes opened, expecting that light, that blinding, burning, beautiful light, but what greeted me was unexpected. The visage of Rokatvor as he stood on the balcony. The night sky was chilled, and the stars tinkled overhead. Dark clouds rolled from the hillside, quietly creeping toward us like a thief in the night.
"There is no point to aim low in a world of opportunity! Those who fall short will likely be forgotten, much like the people of Carnath. They required our skills and dared to put their faith in us. They required our leadership and our vision. They were forgotten about as a storm of chaos swept through the region! I love chaos, Bishop, because I need chaos! Chaos is where heroes are born, chaos is where order can be restored!"
Vigilis stood at his side, stone-faced as he usually was. His elven heritage shone in the moonlight as if the Gods of that world ordained him. The dark red robes that hid his physique were adorned with golden dragons, and his silver crown radiated a faint blue light.
"You're talking about a coup, Mark. There are risks involved, not only to ourselves, but to those underneath us. The NPCs will suffer, and other players will come for our heads. They will be more powerful than you and me combined, so I ask again... is that what you want? A playthrough of unfilted strife and struggle. The consequences of making a mistake and the regrets of sending these NPCs to die? Can you stomach that wasted effort?"
The small kitsune turned to face his taller comrade and began stroking his furry goatee.
"Of course, because I'll be there with them. Though I hope you and Qayshaun will be there with me. It would be less fun without you."
A smile cracked the lips of the stoic elf as a low chuckle rumbled from them. He relaxed his shoulders before placing a hand on Roktavor's shoulders.
"I'll join you, but I remind you that it is a shame for an author to perish before his story is completed by his hand. I want to see just how far we can push beyond our limits."
"Then count me in too!"
Simultaneously, Roktavor and Vigilis turned around, and there stood Brass. His small wings flapped quickly as he hovered down to meet us. He landed, and a wide grin appeared on his face.
He spoke resolutely and placed a fist on his chest, "I don't know what you bastards are up to in the middle of nowhere, but I want a slice of the action too! I'm bored out of my mind, and I could use a reprieve!"
"That settles it then! Bonner, Qayshaun, I welcome you both to the start of my revolution! I'll create a narrative so rich in entertainment for us that it'll go down in history!"
I recall that moment vividly with the feeling of acceptance and the recognition of my inherent greatness. Even though it was only a video game to me at the time, it felt nice to have them not only accept my ambition but help further it. Our bond as friends, no... as brothers, was ironclad.
Schlink!
Every fiber of my being shook as if a wall had slammed into me. The visage of Roktavor faded and was replaced with... 'M-Mikangleo?'