CHAPTER 31: SKY OF DEATH

"Hi Taal’ith! How are things going?"

In a bar very far away, two friends are meeting after work. The first one to arrive, Taal’ith, was already with a cup in his appendage that worked like a hand, filled with a pitch-black liquid.

"Same old, same old. And you? I heard that the work in the Dyson Sphere has been sailing without hitches."

"Yeah, I think that by the next return, it will be fully functional already."

The bar had several other people hanging out, a hotspot of social interactions of the T’karin colony. Several high-pitched voices echoed, each in their own conversations, like a flock of birds chirping.

"I envy you, Thyrr’nal. My job has been far from functional."

"There will be openings to work with the maintenance of the circuits when it’s ready. You just need to talk to me when the time comes and I plug you in."

The two beings still had forms that were somewhat humanoid. That wasn’t the same for several of the other patrons of the bar, who had been drinking for a bit longer. Those were already losing their form, and one was even reduced to a simple blob already.

"Heh, it’s good to know. I’m afraid the higher-ups might cut the funding if our research doesn’t provide concrete results."

"Is it that bad?"

"Well..."

:::

Back to Mycorgloom, Cecilia was facing a grattak, but her minimap was showing that there were five others hidden behind mushrooms.

An idea flashed on her mind, so, instead of attacking, she first tried another method.

"Wait, wait. Can we talk this out? Do you understand me?"

"Ugh’uk understands. What say, pipsqueak?"

((Pipsqueak, huh? Well, I guess that for his size...))

"I’m just passing by. I don’t want to fight. I will go away, and you will never see me again."

"Pipsqueak lies. Pipsqueaks always trespass and lie. Pipsqueaks trespass again and again. No more."

"You mean others like me? Are there people like me who come here to this forest?"

This time, Ugh’uk doesn’t answer. Instead, he jumps forward, swinging two of his fists towards Cecilia.

"Nypharion. Ephemar nythea, aelys skeltha, phaneros ny-thera!"

("Passage-lance. Soul to death, wing to tear, light to the death-way!")

She didn’t even try to dodge, receiving the fists heads-on. Instead, she quickly chanted the Sunder of Passing spell, creating a spear at the tip of her staff.

The momentum of the grattak’s attack made it almost impossible for her to miss or for him to dodge. The necrotic spear cut through him, opening a hole in his abdomen. At the same time, his fists connected with her face, launching her back.

((It hurts... Aaaaaaaaa!!!))

In the game, she used to just tank the damage with her robe and passive regeneration techniques. But the game didn’t allow the players to feel any form of pain.

In real life, her usual strategy had a serious disadvantage.

Her body was launched eight meters away until she was stopped by the trunk of a mushroom tree. A healing spell took effect mid-flight, and another the moment she hit the floor.

But healing injuries doesn’t immediately erase the lingering feeling of the pain she felt. The body still keeps sending signals of the injury it believes is there for some time.

"Ughhh... Fuck."

The cursing priestess took a bit too long to get back to her feet, giving enough time for Ugh’uk’s friends to reach her. A flurry of punches and kicks hit her body, throwing her around like a ragdoll.

"Enough!"

She was hit a total of seven times. Her bones were crushed back and again, only to be fully restored before being crushed again.

Her spinal cord injury in real life was so severe that she wasn’t able to feel almost any pain. Only some secondary ’phantom’ pain, and they were very dulled out. Which meant that, ever since the accident, she had never known what actual pain feel like.

Until this day.

The psychological shock of the brutality of pain was stronger than the physical damage itself, but she couldn’t allow herself to dwell on it. She had to block it, somehow.

But the grattaks didn’t give her the leeway to find her footing, so she gave up on that. Instead, she chanted another spell while her body was still reeling from hit to hit.

"Morathesyr Ephemerys! Phaneros kaleo, nythea apolyn!!!"

("Cycle Divine of Ephemerys! I call the light; death is released!!!")

The butterfly inside the crystal in her staff begins shining, and the air around her cracks. Suddenly, a storm of luminous butterflies bursts from the crystal and scours her surroundings in sweeping arcs.

The butterflies’ wings tear at the grattaks’ flesh in a gruesome scene. Blood drips from the wounds, splashing around them.

The sudden attack made them retreat a few meters, finally allowing her to get back to her feet and giving her time to think about what to cast next. She knew that, despite the spectacular scene, the actual damage of the flight of butterflies would just barely make a dent on their HP pool.

She begins to draw an overhead sigil in the air with her staff while singing in a rising-then-falling spiral. The area around her shines with a silver light, and the air hums, resonating with the melody of her voice.

"Aetheron nythea; phorion en

Anthyra phōs; ephemar epanō.

Kratai moratha; lytha apolyn.

Ephemerys aelys; telos kai

("Sky of Death; passage patterns.

Rebirth’s light; soul lifted high.

Cycle takes hold; fades and dissolves.

Ephemerys’ wing; ending and beginning.")

She repeats the verses over and over again. It is a long chant, building up mana into the desired effect. She was taking advantage of the confusion caused by the butterfly swarm, because the spell was too long to be cast in combat under normal circumstances.

Twelve seconds was all she needed. Twelve precious seconds during which she hoped the butterflies would be able to buy her.

But that wouldn’t be necessary. The grattak were blind, but they had a very precise sense of mana fluctuations, enough to use it as a substitute for sight. They turned tail and fled the moment they ’saw’ the power of the spell she was weaving.

But fleeing wouldn’t do them any good. When the spell was completed, the space above her was ripped apart, and two colossal butterfly wings, one made out of living light and the other one of devouring shadow, swept down around her.

Those wings created a circle of devastation around her, with a radius of thirty-five meters, killing everything and everyone.