Tier 3+ - Accidental Champion (Book 3) - Chapter 42 - Dodge This, You Primitive Bastard (Patreon)

Xavier leapt to the left. He rolled hard on the ground. Behind him, a crater formed. The silver-robed man was still yelling at him, but now his words had become intelligible.

The once serene-looking man had let his emotions overcome him, rage twisting his face into something wholly unfamiliar.

That’s what Xavier had been hoping would happen. He wanted the man to lose control. Breaking down the Lord of the Endless Horde’s control of his emotions was how Xavier had gotten through the man’s mental defences in the end, after all.

To Xavier’s frustration, despite the fact that he’d gained a rank up on his Willpower Infusion spell, he hadn’t received a kill notification for being responsible for the woman’s death, which meant he hadn’t gained a single Mastery Point for his efforts.

The silver-robed man probably received a kill notification. For killing a member of his own party. No wonder he’s so angry.

Coming up from his roll, Xavier dodged another spell. He didn’t want to put the other two members of the man’s party in the way of the attacks a second time. One, it probably wouldn’t work more than once. And two, he wanted to gain something more from their deaths.

~

Sonhiem Dephronatus felt a fire burning within his chest, a rage like he’d never felt before. Since the age of three, he had been placed in his cohort, gotten to know the other members within it. When the instructors had discovered the bond he and the other people who ended up being his party members held, they’d ensured that bond was fostered.

Ayanna, Lilah, Gral.

His party members were more than just military comrades. More than just those he fought with. Each one of them was a part of his family. His sisters. His brother.

They helped him push forward in his goals, in his life, and he had done the same for them. With lifespans being what they were, he’d thought they would get centuries and millennia together—maybe an eternity, unless something took them off their shared path.

Now, Ayanna, his sister lay dead on the ground. Killed not by an enemy’s blade, but by his own spell.

He had gotten a kill notification. Been rewarded by the System for what he’d done.

Sonhiem wanted nothing more than to sink to his knees and grieve. His mother had once spoken of what it was like to lose a party member. Like a part of your heart had been ripped out of our body and now you no longer worked the same as you once did.

As much as he wanted to sink down, as much as he wanted to grieve, he knew that he couldn’t.

He had to avenge his sister-in-arms.

And one thing was abundantly clear—whoever this Xavier Collins was, he hadn’t lied.

He was a True Progenitor.

By the emperor’s will or his own, this man had to die.

And I’ll be the one to serve him his death.

Sonhiem had heard of the power a True Progenitor possessed. The Denizen who was the most powerful in their sector, the famed Empress Larona, was a True Progenitor herself. But he struggled to understand how someone from a world that had been integrated for two weeks could be this strong.

To be a True Progenitor, one must go through the tower. How could he have done that, cleared ten floors, in such a short time?

It made no sense to him, but what was happening didn’t need to make sense for him to kill his opponent.

The man is teleportation locked. He might be fast, but at least he can’t teleport. For now.

The more time that passed, the sooner that effect would run out. Then this man might escape, with the death of Ayanna on his hands.

Sonhiem threw himself forward in a rush. Anger had always been something he’d prided himself in rarely ever feeling. There were ways to train such things. His party members, his instructors, his peers, they would throw insults at him, injure him, or otherwise harm him in some way emotionally of physically, attempting to get a rise out of him, but he’d never been one to get angry at someone attacking his person.

Which meant he’d never experienced rage like this. And he had no idea how to control it.

He didn’t want to control it.

He cast Atomiser Decouple. Again and again. Each time he did he felt a pain in his chest at using the very spell that had killed Ayanna.

And each time when he cast the spell, Xavier was not there.

Lilah, her hand missing, was running at him with an arrow gripped in her left hand. Gral sprinted at him, too, boots pounding the ground, crushing the bones of corpses he passed, turning them to dust within their flesh.

Sonhiem yanked his attention away from the man who’d flared his rage. He took a stumbling step back as his friends—his family—ran straight at him. If was difficult for him to handle something like this. So many times in sparring, he’d seen something similar.

But this wasn’t a sparring match.

He wasn’t in a safe environment where their actions would ultimately have no consequences, and only their skills would be tested.

This was life or death.

He swirled his staff around in a half circle about him. The air crackled with energy. Sonhiem was not a melee fighter. He didn’t thrive in combat when in close with his enemy. That was something he used his party members for. But he wasn’t an idiot—he knew that he wouldn’t always be able to rely on them.

And so he had contingencies.

Those he considered his siblings ran straight into the crackling air. Then they disappeared. He placed them on the other side of the field, hoping doing so would keep them safe. He sighed as it worked. He could see them, in the distance. Hopefully, by the time they returned, whatever heinous spell this man had cast upon them would swiftly end.

Time to kill him.

Sonhiem turned his staff upon the enemy. Xavier Collins. From Earth.

I’ll make sure the world is burnt to the ground for what he’s done.

Sonhiem grinned, then, a manic smile adorning his lips. Xavier Collins was no longer running. No longer dodging. He was simply standing across from him, his face impassive.

Is he impassive, or have I shocked him into finally seeing sense? Finally seeing that he can’t take me?

“You’re not strong enough to kill us by yourself, are you?” Sonhiem said, taking a step forward. “That’s why you had to control my party members. That’s why you had to have me kill one of them! Because behind your bluster you’re too weak to face us on an even playing field!”

Xavier tilted his head to the side.

Is he taking the bait? Of course he is—he’s from a baby world! He knows nothing of anything. That’s why he came here in the first place. He mustn’t have known what kind of threat it posed to him.

“One against four isn’t exactly even.” Xavier paused. “You really should have brought more.”

His scythe took on a powerful glow. A spell was cast, almost faster than Sonhiem was able to perceive.

Pain blossomed in Sonhiem’s head. In his fingers. Toes. Stomach. Arms. Every inch of him. His very bones stung. Worse—it was though the pain hit him in his soul. Whatever this spell was, it felt as though it was intended to break his spirit.

He gritted his teeth through the pain. He had experienced worse—far worse. This was nothing compared with the training he’d undergone as a child.

And that was years before I was integrated into the System.

He cast Atomiser Decouple.

Dodge this, you primitive bastard.

Xavier Collins did not dodge the attack. He didn’t move an inch. Instead, one of those strange apparitions appeared—ghosts, materialising from the void, appeared as though from nowhere to take on the damage meant for Sonhiem’s enemy.

A shudder ran up Sonhiem’s spine. He hated the sight of those things.

The man’s scythe glowed once more. Sonhiem clutched his stomach. He couldn’t help it.

Something… something was wrong in his core. His Spirit Energy was burning, no longer balanced as it should be. But this was worse than when he revealed his aura.

His Spirit Core was out of control—and not just his Spirit Core, either.

His Intelligence Core and Willpower Core was as well.

“Impossible…”

Sonhiem took a stumbling step back. His second of the fight. He wasn’t going to let this happen. Wasn’t going to let this upstart Progenitor defeat him. With every fibre of his will, he fought against the spell’s control. He felt its hold on him—felt the subtle yet significant influence it was having on his mind and body.

He reversed the process. Or at least, he tried to. He found he couldn’t stop his energy from burning, so he did the next best thing—he slipped into a meditative state and drew in more energy, into all three of his cores.

It’s working! The balance—it’s almost restored!

But the process was taking every ounce of his energy.

His enemy, still standing across from him in the exact same spot, smiled.

Then cast another spell.

~

Gral clutched his head with his shield-hand, the strap of his shield still across his palm, the shield blocking his vision.

He was in control again. His mind was his own. Gods, watching his body move of its own volition had been painful, but he hadn’t hurt his party. Sonhiem had stopped him before letting that happen.

Ayanna…

Gral cursed his attributes. His build was perfect, for a tank, but he lacked mobility—why would a walking fortress ever need to run?

Lilah was only a few feet away from him. The woman blinked. Once. She shook her head. Once. Then, as though that was all she needed to regain herself, she was running. Far faster than he ever could.

Sonhiem released a sigh and began running behind her. Gods, he wished he had a teleportation spell.

His gaze turned toward his destination.

Sonhiem and Xavier Collins stood but a few feet apart. Sonhiem was clutching his gut, as though in tremendous pain, something Gral never saw him do, no matter how much agony he was in.

What awful spells does this True Progenitor possess?

Xavier’s scythe glowed briefly, flashing white light. Sonhiem’s eyes widened. The leader of their party took a step back, almost as though he were going to run. Gral hated seeing the man turned to this. Hated seeing him look the coward.

Stay strong, Sonhiem! We are coming!

But not even Lilah could run fast enough.

Bolts of cloud-white lightning leapt from the scythe’s long blade. They arced only a foot or two in the air before they shifted and changed, transforming into one large, ghostly apparition. The spell—whatever it was—reminded Gral of what he’d seen the man do before, when he would block their attacks.

A feeling of dread overtook Gral. Starting in his gut, trailing up to his heart, like strong fingers were clutching and squeezing inside his chest, then reached up to his head, which felt light—as though the blood had left it.

The ghostly apparitions flew at Sonhiem. He cast a spell, the air crackling around him, just as it had before he’d transported Gral and Lilah away.

The sight of the spell replaced some of the dread Gral was feeling with hope—until he realised the spell did not work on the ghostly apparition. It flowed straight toward Sonhiem, and the worst part of it was that the figure was holding a gladius, one identical to Ayanna’s. There were other similarities, but her form had been deformed, shifted, changed, as though it were an amalgamation of dozens—perhaps hundreds—of different people.

The ghostly form charged through Sonhiem.

Sonhiem did not shout, nor scream. He simply collapsed to the ground, his life taken from him.

“No!” Gral yelled, the word ripped from his throat like a sword from a wound—violent, painful, leaving a hole behind.

Lilah, ahead of him, stopped running. There was a fear inside her eyes that he had never seen before. She hesitated, taking a step backward, looking as though she were about to run.

Sonhiem had been the highest level of all of them, the most powerful. With him gone, and Ayanna too, their chances of defeating this man were looking more and more slim by the second.

How can he be doing this?

Gral’s hands wrapped around the haft of his warhammer so hard he heard the wood creak—heard his bones creak. Someone was yelling, loud and rabid, it almost sounded like a wild animal. It took only a moment before he realised the person who was yelling was him.

Xavier Collins, the man from Earth who was most definitely not lying about being a True Progenitor, turned around and faced Gral. His eyes bore into him. There was no fear in those eyes, only a cold certainty, and Gral knew his charge would end in his death.

Xavier didn’t shift. Didn’t move from where he stood now that he faced Gral. A purple mist flowed from the man’s scythe, its tendrils reaching for Gral. For Lilah. He heard Lilah yell behind him. Gral’s eyes widened.

He had not been able to resist the man’s mind control before—he would not be able to resist it again.

But he had no way to teleport away from it.

He skidded to a stop, his boots digging long ruts through the ground, kicking up dirt, but before he could whirl around and run, the purple tendrils of Willpower Energy seeped into his eyes. He felt a defence come up, and he felt that defence crack and crumble. He could sense that his mental defence had grown weaker than the last time, as though the very act of being controlled once had compromised him, making it possible for him to be controlled a second time.

Xavier spoke, then, and his words sounded slightly detached. “I didn’t think it would be this easy to take down a party of D Grades.”

Gral couldn’t move his body. Xavier was walking toward him, raising his scythe, sunlight glinting off the vicious blade.

“Are you four particularly weak for your level?”

The words were not spoken callously, or with anger. There appeared to be no malice in them. They were matter-of-fact, with a hint of curiosity.

Xavier tilted his head to the side when he received no response.

A mental command entered Gral’s mind. He rallied against it. Hated what it was—what it meant—but there was nothing he could do to stop it. As his body turned of its own will—or rather, of Xavier Collins’s will—he screamed, but only in his head.

He was facing Lilah, the last surviving member of his party apart from himself, and she was already running his way.

Pain blossomed in Gral’s stomach. Something was wrong with him—was wrong with his cores, Spirit, Stamina, and Strength. All three of them were burning off energy faster than they should.

And there was nothing he could do about any of it.