Curselock

Chapter 56: Sightless King

The Huntress stayed in the air, stepping on platforms of golden light. Blasts of red energy whooshed high into the sky, narrowly missing their target as she quickly moved across Shoutwell’s airspace. Every attack, every skillful dodge, she drew back and fired off single arrows.

At this point the avatar’s body had turned to a pincushion, each one of his eyes punctured directly through the iris. He protected his main two, batting away every arrow while counter firing when it had the chance.

Around him angled lines littered the flat ground, rooting through the grass and concrete walkways. Iron filings completed the ritual circle, something the Sightless King kept in prime condition. Any damage to the avatar was acceptable as long as the circle remained.

The Huntress lined up a deadly shot, finding a glaring red eye as a bullseye. She fired it, allowing the arrow to travel true for as long as possible. Just as the arrow was about to hit, she activated her Legacy ability, forcing the arrow to change directories.

Abruptly a net of red washed over the area as the Sightless King fought to contain the attack. He threw out both lanky arms, amplifying his magic’s speed and power. He caught the arrow, sundering the attempt to break the ritual circle, but his slow reactions lost him an important eye.

Growling with silent pain, he ripped the conjured arrow from his left-main eye, tossing the golden spike to the ground. As it clambered against the pathway, it suddenly detonated into a great gold explosion. Grass and stone alike were blasted away, as well as part of an arc of iron filings.

The Sightless King didn’t so much as feel the attack, but his ire reached a boiling limit. His remaining eyes, all swiveled to the single minion left in the branch of operation. There she was, fighting the three boys that had been a pain since their arrival. He scowled at the sight, feeling the need to punish his servant.

A slight pull on his gifted power was enough. A warning, a reminder. The woman in white stumbled, allowing an attack to land. The Sightless King huffed at the sight, failure in his creations was something he was quite used to. But this one in particular had failed exceptionally hard.

Another arrow pierced one of the main eyes on his back. He growled, turning his attention back to the woman in the sky. One eye assessed the circle, finding it irreparably damaged. He needed to recreate the entire section, something that would take hours even if he wasn’t under siege. The eye rounded back to the woman in the sky, and a spell formed inside his mind’s eye.

The Huntress hesitated. Her instincts screamed to move, to run. And she did, as fast as she could, around and around all the while firing off more arrows. A crackle of red lightning was all she saw. It invaded her sight, encroaching in her mind like the after image of looking into the sun.

She suddenly was falling, her stepping platforms having malformed. She landed with a dull thud as her sight came back to her. Blood came next, followed by the growing pain of bruised bones. Finding her legs, she wobbled upright. With a guttural grunt, she shifted her jagged nose back straight. Then she discharged the blood pooling in her nostrils.

“Fun spell,” she muttered to herself, memorizing the attack’s signs and outcome. It would not hit her again.

At some point the Huntress had lost her bow, but with a simple mental command, it arrived back in her hand mid-draw. A golden arrow formed and charged, from the nearby light and residual mana. It blasted out, ripping across the battlefield like a screeching harpoon made of hot lava.

The Sightless King attempted to block the attack, his lengthy appendages failing him. The vessel’s body was lacerated deep and clean, the arrow sticking from his tall torso like a sword stuck in a stone.

Then, the arrow detonated.

The blast was smaller than the Huntress was expecting. In fact, nothing happened, only the muted sound of a deathly blast. She tilted her head, watching her opponent open his blemished mouth. A thin red line of miasma dripped from the Sightless King’s vile tongue, along with wisps of golden light.

Slowly, he allowed the unholy mana to fall, where it blanketed the ground like a garden hose left on. With the speed of a gunshot, the pool of red miasma rushed forward.

The Huntress reacted with a dodge roll and three rapid fire shots of her bow. Each arrow entered the pool unmolested, and disappeared never to be seen again.

The Sightless King smirked, mentally commanding the pool to attack. A muscley arm fired from the red pool, punching out from across the battlefield. The arm covered the distance instantly, smashing into the Huntress like a boxer landing a knockout strike.

She hurdled through the air, her inhuman speed only cut short by a red ethereal wall. Cracks sounded from her back and neck with the collision, yet she found her focus drawn not to herself but the follow up attack from the Sightless King.

Before her broken body even touched the ground, she propelled herself off the red wall while gathering mana unbecoming of her Legacy. Throwing caution to the wind, she overcharged her attack with the power of the Lord of the Hunt, marking her enemy for death.

The arrow cut the battlefield in half with a golden brilliance, carving a wide chunk of malted flesh from the Sightless King. His wounds instantly turned withered gray, falling victim to the ability that gave the Huntress her title.

Still flying, the arrow continued through the air on its true path. It smashed into the red wall at the far side of the district, where it exploded into a cascade of daylight. Like fireworks in the dead of night, the dusk evening sky momentarily returned to high noon as the lightshow blazed throughout the area.

The explosions encompassed the avatar and his iron filings ritual circle, destroying the remainder of the neat lines while breaking every bone in his body.

Hastily pulling a wide red vial from her belt, the Huntress quickly sucked down an expensive alchemical potion. She grit her teeth at the taste, the instant effects limiting her suffering. Warmth wrapped her spine and neck in a serine towel, soothing her broken bones with an eager kiss. The sudden surge of longevity pushed her tired feet into action.

At least, it would have, but a red crackle of lightning caught her attention. It appeared in her mind, blinding her just like last time. She smirked, easily moving to counter the ability. She simply closed her eyes, finding solace in the blackness of the blind.

Still, her Hunter’s Mark shone bright in her instincts, tethering the Huntress to her prey. Arrow after arrow she fired into the sky, trusting in her Legacy’s ability to guide their path through the open air. Whistles sounded as the arrows retook to gravity and accelerated down to her target.

She then heard yelling. A lot of yelling. Three voice called to her, warning her of—

Her eyes snapped open, the image of red lightning still embedded in her brain. She fought through the after image, finding the cultist in the white robes shielding her master with her body. A misty green aura hovered around her body, following her chest’s ebb and flow. At least, while her breathing lasted.

Dozens of arrows littered her body, transforming her into a porcupine guarding precious treasure. One that she deemed worthy to die for.

The Sightless King slowly stood, pushing the woman off his dwindled form. She fell to the ground without ceremony, grieving, or guilt, just like the little good minion she was. His many eyes scanned the battlefield, finding Glenny approaching despite the relative danger of the situation.

The Sightless King and the Legacy of the Chameleon stared at each other for a long moment. Then, like a father wallowing away in a nursing home, the King spoke through his avatar’s haggard vocal cords.

For Glenny, the words were nothing but broken whispers. Pleas for help from a distant voice situated far in his head. It held no power, no real influence. It could speak, it could beg, but it still was only just a voice, one he could squash the moment he stepped to the microphone. The whispers didn’t control him, his Legacy made sure of that. He made sure of that.

To the others, however, the words were nothing more than garbled mess of broken syllables and the occasional string of words. It was obvious that the Sightless King wanted help, but multiple arrows quickly tore through his neck and throat.

Glenny only watched the Huntress kill the beast, not once falling for its fake persona or false woe.

Eventually the Sightless King’s avatar turned charred gray, the Huntress’ death mark finding no protest from the “Lord.”

All hope was lost for this branch of his “Church.” All hope was lost for this “attempt” to invade the abundant lands of this continent. He would try again in time, but for now he was content with searing the faces of his enemies into his mind.

He made a special note of the one called “Glenny.”

The Huntress yelled to the boys, “Make sure you all damage this thing. Otherwise you all won’t get credit for helping.”

That lit a fire under the boys, each of them attacking from a distance. Leland simply had a crow fly down to peck at the dying husk of a “Lord.” Glenny threw the dagger from his boot at the monster. And Jude picked up a rock and hurled it with all of his strength.

They all looked at him.

“What?” he asked. “I don’t carry throwing knives and no way am I throwing my axe at that thing.”

Leland and Glenny nodded with his logic but the Huntress only shook her head. She poured the remainder of her mana and stamina into a final arrow, letting it rip at the Sightless King’s vessel and finally killing it.

She then collapsed to her knees and would have fallen on her face if not for three sets of arms reaching for her.

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