For a heartbeat, they just stared at each other, Deacon with his crimson slitted eyes burning with barely contained rage and the Antlion Prince with its compound insectoid eyes reflecting cold intelligence and murderous intent, and then they both moved at the same time.
The Antlion Prince reverted to its lithe swimmer-like form—
Assassin form, Deacon supplied mentally to himself as he seemingly clicked that this antlion must have been some sort of mutant, and its ability was to be able to swap forms. The Antlion Prince's earlier shape had been built for speed; its sharpened, humanoid claws meant to spear or slash at vital points like a killer striking from the dark. The form it had been in moments ago, he now realized, had been its brute form, sacrificing mobility for raw defense and overwhelming power.
Now it launched itself forward, crossing half the distance between them in less than a second. Its right arm drew back, claws poised to drive straight through Deacon's chest, just as they had through Esmerelda.
Deacon met the charge head-on instead of dodging or blocking, his own speed spiking as adrenaline flooded his veins and set off another wave of that unbearable itch crawling across his skin. He parried the Antlion Prince's snapping right arm with his left short sword, then ducked and, in one smooth, fluid motion, drove his right blade under the Antlion Prince's arm.
The edge struck chitin just above the triceps, and for a heartbeat, Deacon feared it wouldn't bite through the armored hide. The doubt vanished as his flame-wreathed Damascus steel cut in with surprising ease, carving through the outer plating and scoring the muscle beneath in a shallow but unmistakable wound.
In response to Deacon wounding the killer of Esmerelda, an immense surge of panic tore through the Antlion Prince's mind. It was the first time it had ever been hurt in its short life, and the sensation of pain was alien and terrifying in a way its inherited instincts had never prepared it for. That fear forced the Antlion Prince to abort its attack and leap backward, retreating from Deacon's blade even though it could have pressed the exchange and landed a blow of its own.
Dark blue blood that served as the Antlion Prince's blood sprayed from the wound in a light splatter that painted an arc across the platform in the distance it had created between them, and the Antlion Prince let out a screech of pain and fury that made Deacon's ears ring even through the rushing sound of his own heartbeat pounding in his head and the simmering rage he was forcibly holding himself back from just erupting and losing all control in his desire to avenge Esmerelda.
Overreaction to the cut, Deacon supplied to himself immediately as he watched the Antlion Prince's exaggerated response, before his eyes narrowed as doubt crept in and he reconsidered whether maybe he'd been wrong in that assessment—Is it weak to flames, or is its current form just that much more fragile than the brute version?
They circled each other for a moment, both looking for an opening in the other's guard, and out of the corner of his eyes as they maintained their slow rotation, Deacon could see more Sand Golems converging on their position from multiple directions, but he couldn't afford to divide his attention.
As they circled one another, Deacon's left blade clipped one of the pouches on his hip, the one farthest to his left, slicing through the dark-threaded fabric with ease, and a sickly green red-veined pill spilled free from the opening.
He caught it in his left hand as it fell and, without breaking eye contact with the Antlion Prince, cautiously popped the pill into his mouth, slipping it under his mask while keeping his grip on the blade, as he continued to stare down the creature that had killed Esmerelda, the first one to invite him into their friend group.
Nerve Rush was the name of the pill Deacon had just swallowed.
As the pill passed down his throat, it turned to mist and seeped directly into the walls of his throat, forming vein-like greenish-red tendrils that took root around the base of his neck and began sprouting across his body as though his flesh were dirt, and upon consumption it would heighten his senses to an extreme degree while minorly boosting his physical strength beyond what his stats alone could provide.
A green puff of vapor escaped from between Deacon's lips as the drug took effect, and he barely managed to rein back the shudder that threatened to roll across his entire body as every single one of his senses got pushed into overdrive—colors became more vivid, sounds became clearer, even the slight shifts in air pressure from the Prince's movements became readable to him in a way they hadn't been moments before.
However, the pill came at a significant cost: it inflicted a corrosive poison that would melt his nervous system to slurry if the antidote was not consumed before the green and red tendrils spreading from his neck engulfed his entire body.
The Antlion Prince suddenly shifted back into its brute form and kicked off toward him with ground-cracking force, its wounded arm apparently not slowing it down in the slightest as it came at him with a flurry of strikes from both claws and fists that forced Deacon immediately onto the defensive.
As Deacon brought his left hand closer to his face, Deacon could see more Sand Golems converging on their position from multiple directions, but he couldn't afford to divide his attention because the Prince suddenly shifted back into its brute form and kicked off toward him with ground-cracking force, its wounded arm apparently not slowing it down in the slightest as it came at him with a flurry of strikes from both claws and fists that forced Deacon immediately onto the defensive.
He parried the first strike with his right sword, the impact sending shockwaves up his arm that rattled his bones. He ducked under the second blow, which would have taken his head clean off, and barely twisted away from the third, which still caught his shoulder armor and tore through leather and metal like they were wet parchment.
Pain flared across his shoulder where the claws had found flesh beneath the armor and carved four shallow furrows into his skin, but Deacon used the momentum from his twist to spin completely around and bring his left sword in a horizontal slash aimed at the Antlion Prince's midsection, and this time his blade bit deep enough to draw a significant amount of blood before the Antlion Prince could pull back out of range.
The Antlion Prince screeched again and lashed out with a powerful kick that caught Deacon in the chest before he could get his guard up properly, and the impact lifted him completely off his feet and sent him flying backward through the air, his body tumbling end over end until he crashed into one of the Sand Golems hard enough to knock them both down in a tangle of limbs and breaking stone.
Deacon rolled to his feet immediately, ignoring the pain radiating through his chest where he was pretty sure at least two ribs had cracked from that kick, and found himself facing the Sand Golem he'd crashed into as the construct reached for him with its massive hands that were shifting from loose sand into hardened sandstone.
He didn't have time for this— the Antlion Prince was already charging at him again with murder written in every line of its posture, and if he got caught between the Antlion Prince and the golem, he'd be crushed between them.
So Deacon did the only thing he could think of and cast Ignis, pouring as much mana as he could spare into the spell and directing it at the Sand Golem.
"Get the fuck out of my way!" Deacon shouted as fire exploded outward in a cone, superheating the sand faster than it could harden. The blast incinerated a large portion of the golem's front, exposing its singed but still-functional core.
Deacon didn't spare it a glance as he moved to dart past it.
The Antlion Prince was on him a heartbeat later, its claws raking through the space where Deacon's torso had been an instant before and continuing on through the Sand Golem behind him, slicing clean through its already-scorched core and killing it outright.
Deacon snapped his swords up into a guard just in time to catch the follow-up strike that would have disemboweled him, the impact blasting him backward several steps and leaving his arms numb. The force of it triggered Echoform Reliquary to shift mid-motion into its Ulfberht form, the weapon reconfiguring so he could better withstand the Antlion Prince's overwhelming strength.
They exchanged another flurry of strikes, Deacon's flaming blade leaving trails of fire in the air as it clashed against the Antlion Prince's claws.
Neither gained a clear advantage, but both landed small, telling hits that slowly accumulated damage. Deacon was forced to constantly shift Echoform Reliquary between its dual short sword configuration and its Ulfberht form to keep pace with the Antlion Prince's fighting style: when the creature shifted into its brute form, he relied on the Ulfberht's weight and the leverage its two-handed forms gave his swordsmanship, and when it switched to its assassin form, he reverted to the dual short swords to match its incredible speed.
As Sand Golem reached for the Antlion Prince from behind and the Antlion Prince spun with absurd flexibility to smash the construct's head with a backhand strike that shattered its hardened sandstone hand, then immediately pivoted back to continue its assault on Deacon without missing a beat, the sharp claws of its assassin form that it had reverted to shallowly nicking his right cheek and drawing a thin line of blood.
Fucking bullshit General Rank stats, Deacon panted. It has so many fucking openings, but its just too fast for me to take advantage of them.
Deacon was getting pushed back now, his stamina draining rapidly from the sustained high-intensity combat and the injuries he'd already sustained piling up and taking their toll, and he could feel his movements starting to slow fractionally as exhaustion began to set in.
Which was all the opening the Prince needed.
The Antlion Prince feinted with its wounded right arm, pulling Deacon's guard that way as he moved to intercept the apparent strike. In the same instant, it lunged with its left hand in a lightning-fast thrust aimed at Deacon's kidney, claws extended to punch through his armor and drive deep into his flesh.
Time seemed to slow as Deacon realized he couldn't move fast enough to avoid the strike entirely. He might twist just enough to keep it from being instantly fatal, but the claws were still going to punch into his kidney — maybe even tear it free.
It's fine. I can live without one. That's why we have two.
The thought was cold and detached as he braced for the impact, already planning how to turn the moment of being stabbed into an opening for a counterattack.
And then a massive blast of concentrated wind slammed into the Antlion Prince from the side with perfect timing, the spell hitting with enough force to knock the Antlion Prince completely off its feet and send it tumbling across the platform in an uncontrolled roll, and Deacon heard Sam's voice shouting from somewhere behind him over the chaos of Sand Golems that he was holding back from reaching him.
"I got you Deke— go fucking wham!"
Deacon didn't waste time questioning or looking back to see where Sam was positioned— instead pivoting on his heel and charged at the Antlion Prince while it was still recovering from being knocked down, shifting Echoform Reliquary back into its dual short sword form and raising both blades high above his head as he channeled his stamina into a double Power Strike enhanced with Flame Armament that made the air around him shimmer with heat.
The Antlion Prince barely managed to raise its guard as Deacon brought both flaming swords down in a devastating overhead slash. Its claws barely managed to catch the blades, mere inches from reaching its face. Its chitin-clad hands desperately scraping against flame-wreathed Damascus steel with a shriek; like nails dragged across a chalkboard.
Deacon pushed down with everything he had, his muscles screaming in protest and his cracked ribs sending lightning bolts of agony through his chest with every ragged breath he took, and slowly, agonizingly slow.
The Antlion Prince screeched and bucked, trying to throw Deacon off through sheer physical force, but Deacon just shifted his weight forward and pressed down even harder, his feet planted firmly on either side of the Prince's torso as he drove his swords deeper into the Antlion Prince's guard, the flames wreathing his blades burning so hot now that they were charring its royal blue chitin black and causing it to crack and splinter from the extreme thermal stress.
"You fucking bastard!" Jass shouted.
As Deacon continued to push his blades downwards, from his left peripheral vision, Deacon saw Jass charging in with her glaive raised high despite her mangled left arm hanging useless at her side, blood still dripping from the horribly mangled limb, and she brought the blade down in a brutal strike aimed at the Antlion Prince's shoulder joint where Deacon's earlier slash had already weakened the armor.
In that critical moment, the Antlion Prince seemed to understand exactly how much danger it was in — pinned beneath Deacon's weight, its guard steadily collapsing, and a lethal strike coming from a different angle that he had no way to protect or escape from without Deacon's blades burying themselves into its chest.
Death was imminent.
Its thoughts dissolved into raw survival instinct as it reached deep into its inherited Records and tore free a skill that overrode the very racial trait it should have inherited from its Broodmother.
From its right compound eye, a concussive wave of subsonic energy suddenly erupted outward in an expanding circle, the distortion in the air barely visible but carrying immense force, and the wave spread outward from the Prince's position and slammed into everyone within range.
The blast caught Jass mid-swing and sent her flying backward through the air like she'd been hit by a charging bull, her glaive spinning away from her grip as her body tumbled across the platform, and Sam was knocked completely off his feet from where he'd been preparing another spell, his staff clattering away as he crashed down hard.
Deacon, with his enhanced stats and his position directly over the Antlion Prince, where he had the most leverage, managed to hold his ground against the subsonic wave through sheer stubborn determination and the weight he was pressing down with, though the force of it still rattled his bones and made his vision swim while his ears began to bleed.
As its Mutated Racial Trait was activated, the Antlion Prince's right compound eye drained of all color, turning a dull gray-white as the cost of the skill manifested in permanent damage to the organ.
It didn't hesitate for even a fraction of a second.
Using the brief disruption it had created, the Antlion Prince explosively reverted to its brute form, the sudden surge of muscle and raw power throwing Deacon's weight aside. Then, in a movement so fast it nearly vanished from Deacon's perception, the Antlion Prince drove its massive fist deep into his chest.
The impact drove all the air from Deacon's lungs in an instant and he felt more ribs crack under the force of the blow, blood and saliva spraying from his mouth as his body was launched upward like a stone from a catapult, he sailed through the air in a helpless arc that carried him all the way up to the chamber's ceiling where his back slammed into the stone with bone-jarring force.
His vision filled with bursts of color and pain as the impact rattled his already battered body, and through the haze, he registered something massive moving in his peripheral vision— the other creature that seemed unaffected by the Antlion Prince's attack.
[Sand Golem – Elite Lv 25]
The remaining Sand Golems scattered across the platform seemed to reach the same conclusion: if they didn't merge, they would die. And so they did. Their bodies and cores fused into a single Elite-ranked construct that dwarfed every Sand Golem Deacon had destroyed so far. The moment the fusion stabilized, it took action to get rid of the third strongest mana signature in the room that was closest to it — Deacon.
Just as Deacon's body was about to begin falling back toward the platform below, the massive merged Sand Golem lifted its enormous arm and launched its hand of compacted sand toward him, the appendage reshaped itself mid-flight from a blunt fist into a sharpened sand spear that cut through the air with deadly precision, aiming directly for where the Antlion Prince's strike had already weakened and cracked his chest armor.
The sand spear pierced through the compromised protection like it was wet paper and drove straight into Deacon's body, punching through flesh and muscle and scraping against bone as it impaled him against the ceiling.
Jass, Bonehead, and Sam managed to push themselves back onto their feet after being knocked down by the Antlion Prince's subsonic wave.
However, while Jass and Sam managed to end up relatively close to each other near the center of the platform, Bonehead had been thrown further away and was struggling to regain his bearings with his skeletal frame still rattling from the impact and covered in microfractures as he harshly hit the platform.
The Antlion Prince and the Elite Sand Golem seemed to grasp the tactical situation at nearly the same instant.
Immediately, Jass and Sam burst into motion – rushing to reach Bonehead.
Both immediately surged toward Bonehead's isolated position, having identified him as the weakest link in the Ravenlight Party's formation and choosing to eliminate him first before turning their attention to the more dangerous combatants.