I had to get to them, to the airship as fast a possible, but would it even be possible? I asked myself as I transferred throw after throw.
I was literally dancing in the air.
I threw my knife, transferred, caught the knife in mid-air, made a pirouette to throw with all the power I could, and then I repeated the process from step one.
When the much-trained process started making my world spin, I removed the pirouette from the routine. It was better to travel fewer meters than have a high chance of ending up with my face plastered on a tree trunk.
I kept thinking back to what had happened before I started the pursuit.
I had informed Roana of my intentions, and knowing that she could not stop me, she said something else; it was one word uttered with her Command Skill.
Win.
It felt like a roar of victory.
Until then, it was all I wished for, but after she hit me with those words, I was undoubtedly going to make it. There was no way in which I couldn’t.
Roana was a Medium, the starting Class of all magically oriented Classes if each mage could do what she was now capable of… I had no idea how fighting against someone that commanded the elements could be even remotely possible.
I hoped there were no mages aboard the airship.
It had been almost an hour of Trick Shot throws, I was starting to feel cold, which was not a good sign. Even taking time-outs to recover was not enough to free me from the slowly building coldness, and if it was so with my connection with the Shade, it was indeed the very mark that I was overdoing it.
But at that point, something changed.
Not only had the roars of the beast gotten closer, but the airship as well had started going slower.
If my guess was right, they were about to reach the Titan, maybe trying to battle it. Who knew how many Soul fractions a rampaging Titan looking for its lost egg would give, or what kind of Crystal it would drop.
I was not gonna take down the Titan, but I was surely going to take down the damn airship.
When, finally, the Titan was in my view, it was clear that the airship was as well.
They were indeed going over to the humongous monster, and, sadly, they were not the only ones. Three more airships were moving about in the air, heading straight at the Titan; if that wasn’t enough, judging from the contingency coming from the Drylands that I could see from here, a Sand-Crawler was heading this way as well.
A Flow-Crawler or Sand-Crawler was a damn rare sight.
They were Sundoor’s heavy transport devices, and they brought a whole damn battalion of Sunguards.
If that wasn’t enough, several Flow-carts were surrounding it, and they were all coming this way, at the Titan.
What the hell would I do now?
I checked Trick Shot’s Skill points.
Skill points for Trick Shot Promotion:
- Trick Shot Major Perk: 433/2000
- Trick Shot Minor Perk: 216/1000
- Trick Shot Passive Perk: 389/500
I had a vague idea of what was going on with the Major and Minor Perks. The first one was surely related to the number of Trick Shot I had used; the second was half that number, so each Trick Shot I did, counted toward the Major Perk, while every, one out of two, counted for the Minor Perk.
Once again, I had no idea what the Passive was about, and yet, I had the vague sensation that I should have been crawling on the ground from exhaustion. However, I wasn’t.
Stamina was a subproduct of Agility and Constitution, which gave it a chance for the next Passive to be something related to Stamina recovery, which wasn’t bad at all.
Of course, Trace had likely not even shown an increase, or did it?
Skill points for Trace II Promotion:
- Trace II Major Perk: 0/20000
- Trace II Minor Perk: 122/10000
- Trace II Passive Perk: 4/5000
Oh, not bad, it was a start.
Synesthesia had become easier to control during my month of rest; I had made sure to test it; it now triggered automatically only when I did not expect anything to happen. Most of the time, I had a vague control of how to not make it unwillingly trigger. But what would the next Perk be like?
I fought away those thoughts and breathed in.
I needed to draw every last part of the Hunter in me; I was about to hunt down the most crucial target of my life. I had to draw the animal, the monster inside of me. That thing that fueled my killing intent and let it take control of me.
If half of me just wanted to run away, hands shaking at the thought of fighting an entire vessel of what might have been likely delvers, the other part, the cruel one, the killer, the one that had accompanied me for these last three years of solitude, was roaring his willingness, his monstrous craving for killing.
I had to let it take over me, even if only for a while.
If my Dad was really a Spectre, I had to be able to respect his legacy.
I was perched on the top of a tree, right below the hovering airship.
It was likely studying the Titan in front of them.
I had to exclude the beast from my attention. The cry of the green, see-through Netherlion, bigger than the clock-tower and wide two times as much, shook the few still-standing trees around it.
The roar it emitted was enough to draw everyone’s attention to it; I could see the airship heading in its direction, but not me; my Willpower, further incremented by the Specter’s Dignity, didn’t waver.
What it had emitted was certainly a taunt, a call for death for any fool getting in range of its absurd frame.
The monstrosity took their attention so much that, if the flying vessels had been out of my range until now, likely because the boy could feel my presence, it now forgot about me.
Even better, I felt the tracker disappear. It was likely studying the Titan.
My smile widened unnaturally; I was trembling with excitement.
Was I a fool for wanting to reap their lives so badly even now that I had the chance to get the f*** away from this place?
I was. But I had to win, and no, it was not Roana’s Command pushing me to do it. If anything, it had been the last push; the real fault was all mine.
I wanted this, I needed this, I could not hide it anymore.
Years of frustration, even more years of solitude, seventeen years of being born as a creature of darkness.
I was free now. No villager was holding me back, no Nova to be looked after right now. It was only me, my new movement ability, and my unnatural thirst for blood.
It had most probably been unlocked after the slave trader extermination. I could feel it. And now, I would feed it.
I laughed a brief shrill laugh, and then I threw my dagger toward the sky. I would be the Ghost of the Night tonight.
It took me three transfers to reach the now erratically flying ship; it was moving as such to evade the massive claws and swipes of the Titan. It had also started shooting back at it.
They were massive rounds, the likes of which I had never ever seen.
The Avians were indeed good with their weapons and flying vessels.
Each round felt like an exploding sun for my Synesthesia until I shut it out.
I was now hanging from the vessel’s bottom side; I believed it was called the rudder, but I might have been wrong; I had only ever talked with Alistar’s and his Dad about ships. Although they had no need to use any, even in the river’s deepest part, they were fisher thorough and through.
The only thing I had to be careful of from here were the massive propellers situated on the back and on the sides.
There were seven of them.
The big one in the back was the closest to my current location, then there were six more, smaller but situated in sets of three, one on the right and the other on the left side of the ship.
I waited for the ship to finish its sharp turn, then I launched my knife up, past the back airscrew, and I appeared like a shadow on the tallest side of what I believed was called the gunwale.
My knife dug deep inside the red frame of the giant flying contraption.
What came next had to be fast and painless.
I looked out over the rail, and there were two men, both giving me their back while maneuvering some rotating steering wheels, one for each side. They were alone; the others were likely ahead in the front, where their massive guns were located.
This would be much easier than I thought, much, much easier.
Somehow I was rather unsatisfied by that, but I would take what was given.
In one flowing motion, I jumped over the rail and threw my knife at the man steering the left wheel; I would not count only on the knife; if they were delvers, their Perception might have been much more trained than mine.
No, I transferred toward my knife, before it hit the man and with what the motion momma Jane had me train until I almost quit for the rage of failing it, I dug my knife inside of the man’s nape.
I Tracked and Traced him before I kicked him out of the ship.
Terence Willflower, Flying-Ship Soldier Level 34 (16258/390000), Air-Technician Level 39 (2858/330000)
Health: 13%
Stamina: 73%
Strengths: Constitution, Strength Focus
Weaknesses: Willpower
Class Skills: Ship Legs (Agility), Hardness (Constitution), Lance Throw (Strength), Enhanced Throw (Focus),
Sub-Class Skills: Steel Hook (Strength), Lithe Body (Constitution), Steering Mind (Focus), Mind Ahead (Willpower)
Race: Human
Sex: Male
Height: 184 cm
Weight: 69 kg
Age: 28
Origins: Unknown
Family: Unknown
That was no delver.
You’ve earned 7251 Soul fractions. Soul fractions for next TechnoHunter level: 162252/300000
You’ve earned 128 Soul fractions. Soul fractions for next Tamer level: 2240/27000
You’ve earned 128 Skill points. Skill points for Trace II Major Perk Promotion: 128/20000
You’ve earned 28 Skill points. Skill points for Trace II Minor Perk Promotion: 150/10000
Not much anyway. Anyway, I shut off the whispers; it was no time for them.
My next target had likely seen what had just happened and needed to die before he gave the alarm.
The moment I turned toward him, I saw the man, still a young man, probably my age, or maybe not given their complexion, terrified.
He looked as if he had just seen a real ghost.
Seeing that face, I was almost driven to stop what I was doing and leave.
But… I was here now, wasn’t I?
I shook those thoughts away and launched ahead.
It was clear that the same trick would not work again, so I did a variation of it; I threw my knife at the man that could clearly not leave the steering wheel, he moved away, just enough to evade the knife. It was not enough.
Because I turned into the true danger, manifesting in front of it while maintaining the momentum of my run, I grabbed the knife mid-flight, and with a round kick delivered on the man’s sternum, I sent him flying overboard.
Track and Trace as I saw him fly over the rail, then I had to turn my gaze away for what was about to happen.
Because the worst happened. I was not strong enough to send him all the way across the airscrew’s range.
The man’s body ended up being shredded to pieces, entrails and blood flying everywhere around the side of the ship. If seeing the red mist did not attract the attention of the men ahead, nothing would.
I had to hide.
The only place I could hide was the roof of the cabin at the center of the boat. From there, I could transfer all the way to the top of one of the masts. I could have done it from here, but I feared for the wind steering my throw in the wrong direction.
I transferred to the cabin’s roof then looked down on the front bridge.
Ten men were all crammed together. I believed two of them were commanding the sails; four were charging and aiming what looked halfway between a cannon and a rifle.
They were massive weapons; one of those blasts could make dust out of me. Thankfully, they didn’t seem to turn more than ninety degrees to the left and right.
The other four remaining men were going back to the quarter, surely to check what the hell had happened.
However, the Air-Commander was not there, where the f*** was he? Was he in the captain cabin below? Was he alone? I could not see it from here, for Sun’s sake.
Of the men in front of me, not one turned to look at me standing on top of their cabin; they were too taken from the Titan rampaging.
I turned to look at it; the beast was indeed worrying. The shots were not being effective; he could Phase in and out at will, damn troublesome.
I could not imagine my puppy turning into that monstrosity; would he become that powerful? I could be a one-man army with such a beast by my side, but would I be alive when it reached that size? Or would I be long dead? I chuckled at the thought.
However, when the monster finally managed to claw one of the airships, and everybody’s attention turned toward it, I knew it was my time.
I turned my attention to the two men heading to quarter through portside and opened up into a big smile.
My right eye, together with my left, perennially turned, saw the enemy’s weak points.
There were many; the Avian uniform was light.
I jumped, pushing my body by stepping on the cabin, and toward the closest man, my dagger quickly dug deep into his neck. I extracted it with the next movement, focused my attention on the Form of the Vector, and threw the knife at the men slightly ahead.
Before I transferred, I could see his hands take the color of steel.
As he was about to swat the knife away, I appeared in its stead, grabbed the knife with my clock-arm, and blocked the swap with it. It was heavy, but not enough.
My clock-arm, together with my knife, gave me a 75 Strength boost.
He tried to punch me in the face with his other free hand; I ducked, and in one swift motion, pushed the knife deep inside of his solar plexus, overpowering his resistance was a joke with the combination of clock-arm and Specter’s Dignity.
The man’s scream was nullified by the sound of the wind, the explosion of the airship the Titan had clawed, and the resulting cry of pain from the Titan.
Track and Trace before he died for the sad Skill points, and I was back on top of the cabin.
I briefly looked toward the Titan’s direction before focusing on the men who had reached the quarter and found nobody steering the wheels.
There was still time.
One of them immediately took for the wheels, the other gave me his back, good for me.
I did not lose time; I threw the knife at him; even with the call for attention in a language I did not understand, the man was already dead. Because I appeared in mid-air, gripping the flying knife and slamming it with a pirouette inside of the poor soul’s skull.
Track and Trace worked probably because the man’s heart was still beating when the knife dug into his skull.
The next I Tracked even before I threw my knife at him, the one steering the wheel, the problem was that he was holding a Flow-gun at his side and had picked it up.
I was just in time to slightly curve the direction in which I was throwing my knife.
I transferred the moment the knife was behind his ear, then ported behind him, evaded the gunshot by pivoting on the ball of my feet, then the knife dug deep into his arm.
He had managed to defend.
The men pointed the gun at me once more; I Traced it.
Two-shots Flow-gun
Durability: 100%
Flow Density: 50
Flow Dumper: 50%
Strengths: Ability to shoot twice before recharging, Flow dumper
Weaknesses: None
This Flow-gun can shoot twice before needing to recharge. The dumper can absorb fifty percent of the Flow’s discharge, lessening the strain on the body.
He had another shot, one he would never be able to shoot.
I punched him in the face with my clock-arm at close range, his nose broke, and he closed his eyes. Whether he did or didn’t, would have made no difference, my knife would have sliced his throat all the same.
I grabbed the gun; I could shoot that last shot without troubles now that my full Constitution was twenty-six.
Or that was what I wanted to do as I turned around to launch to the cabin.
I didn’t know what saved me first. If the fact that I had been Tracked or if it was the new feeling of disturbance in the night’s Shade, but the moment I turned, I knew that I had to evade to the right.
Then came the rain of bullets that ravished the ships’ red metal and could have made mincemeat of me if I hadn’t stepped to the right.
I managed to evade just in time and then I threw my knife to the back of the ship, where I transferred and hid behind the rail.
As I fought down my panicked breath, I heard the boy speak.
“You could have run away!” A voice shouted aloud to beat the sound of the wind, “Why didn’t you take that chance?”
It was him, wasn’t he?
I looked above the rail slightly, only to receive another round of shots from his damn Flow-submachine-gun.
“Crap,” I whispered.
The young commander was not alone; there was a most troublesome person near him. Someone that threw my plans to s***.
A damn Monk Nun of the Sun. Now I could say I was in serious trouble.
