Chapter 9: Black Eyes IX
[CORBIN VILLAGE - Corbin Estate Entrance]
Before Muse could do anything, Cain had drawn three of his remaining nine arrows into his bow and fired. They sparked through the air and slammed into the vitals of two of the six remaining bandits (not including the man on the monster, that creature could not simply be described as a mere bandit).
The last one was deflected out of the air by its intended victim, the only cutthroat in the group that had been aware of their approach.
Immediately every pair of eyes in the area was drawn to the black-eyed interloper.
The brigands grabbed their weapons and screamed, both as an intimidation tactic and to express their rage. Reymond looked up, his pained grimace turning into a look of relief for a brief second, before the agony returned and he bent back down.
Cain, knowing that he had gotten their attention, then turned backward and ran, all the while firing off more shots.
Five.
Four.
Three arrows left.
He booked it, making a beeline toward the village center. Anywhere but here, where the living villagers could still get caught in the battle. He hoped that Muse would understand what he was trying to do.
Nobody was looking at Muse, and for this she was grateful. She had stepped away from Cain - a step for her was a good five meters or so - and faded into the shadows of a tree, the foliage above her casting dark shadows that provided her with visual cover.
Leaning down, Muse allowed Webby to hop off her shoulder. He gave her a little salute with one of his eight legs, before scurrying off into the grass. Large and white as he was, the bandits would be far too focused on the man who had just killed two of their numbers.
Each of the 27 Divinities had their own aspects. Aerachnid was the patron of wind, freedom, and, most importantly in this moment...
Of health and medicine.
The speedy little white spider went over to the man who was bleeding out on the ground, the one with the snapped bow next to him.
The man noticed his arrival, but could do nothing as weak and drained as he was. Webby hopped onto his shoulder, right next to the gaping wound where an arm used to be, and immediately started spinning strings from his mouth.
Reymond’s eyes widened as the little divine beast spun a wrap of gauze and silk over his wound, before running over his body and tightening it into place with more well-placed threads. Although the pain was real and raw, he wasn’t bleeding any more.
His little saviour, still on Reymond’s shoulder, then opened its mouth and produced a large, blood red orb and gestured at him to receive it. He took it into his hand - his one remaining hand - and looked at it blankly.
“What is...?”
“A blood pill,” answered a young lady who moved so fast it seemed as though she appeared beside him in a puff of air. “Eat it, quick. It’ll replenish what you’ve already lost.”
That was all he needed to hear. Reymond bit into the orb and swallowed it in a few bites. The taste was bitter and acrid, but he forced it all down. Within moments he was feeling better; he could see his skin’s pallor returning to its usual sheen.
“Stay hidden,” said Muse. She took note of the man’s snapped bow and his detached arm. This man was out of the fight. “Do what you can to help your friends. My familiar will stay with you. I’m going to assist Cain.”
At the mention of Cain’s name Reymond remembered.
“Wait!” he said, stopping Muse right before she ran off. “Please, take this with you.”
He unstrapped his quiver, and tossed it to her. A wonky toss to be sure, but he had lost his dominant hand and she managed to snatch it out of the air anyway.
“He has to be running out of arrows.”
Muse nodded, and before Rey’s eyes it was as if she vanished out of existence in an explosion of wind. Then she was on a rooftop in the distance. Then she was gone again.
Rey was left in a pile of bodies. He took it all in. Only three of the militiamen that had been brought together were still breathing, and Webby had already started seeing to them. It was impressive, seeing the little spider triage and get to work like a practiced surgeon.
Serious gashes were sewn up in seconds, and what the spider couldn’t fix on the spot it did its best to relieve, pulling what it needed out of its mouth. Reymond stared in disbelief; not that he was good for much else at the moment.
The inside had to be bigger than the outside, Reymond concluded, as the pile of medical supplies grew in size, eclipsing the little spider himself.
Wait, what about...
Reymond’s eyes flung in the direction of where Jord had been. That scum!
Bron had almost taken him down, crushing the traitorous guard in a battle of swordplay and leaving the man defenseless, but before he had the chance to give him what he deserved the leader of the bandits had protected him, disarming Bron and cutting him down in a single blow.
Jord was nowhere to be seen, the coward. Reymond hadn’t seen him chase after Cain - it was more likely he had escaped and was trying to lay low somewhere. Whatever, that was a matter for later. For now--
Reymond’s eyes widened as Bron, previously motionless, let out a sputtering cough. Rey spun around in the direction of his little saviour.
“Sir divine beast, please, he’s still alive!”
Webby was on him in seconds.
[CORBIN VILLAGE - Village Center]
Back to the pile of bodies, but this time Cain was far too engaged to contemplate the horror.
The points that he had allocated into speed had completely justified their expenditure. There were a few times where if Cain had been slightly too slow to react, he would’ve been cleaved in twain by thrown tomahawks from the pursuing brigands.
A few deft steps, and he was on the rooftops once more. The bandits couldn’t get at him easily now, he thought. They were fast, but their movements didn’t have the elegance and freedom that his own did when he activated the Control Scheme.
He drew his bowstring back, two more arrows at the ready. He took aim, and shot.
Spiralling missiles flew toward two of the four remaining bandits. They brought their weapons up to cut down the approaching streaks but were not ready for when the arrows curved, instead spinning off and smashing into the two other bandits that were following right behind them.
Cain nodded. It worked.
He had adjusted the target reticle after he had fired this time, and it had gone exactly the way he had thought it would. The arrows had homed in slightly on the post-adjustment target, just enough to take them down.
It was a devilish skill that he had come up with on the spot.
But now he was in trouble.
Cain thought about the only arrow left in his quiver, and what he would do with it. There were two more pursuing bandits, and right behind them he could hear the stomping of a large mounted beast and the laughter of its demonic rider.
But then!
Fire set his nerves alight again as if electricity was coursing through his system. He let out a cry of pain. What was--
[LEVEL UP!]
Right! The last he had seen of the EXP gauge, it had been at 24/200. Since these bandits seemed to give out 50 a kill, that meant... He should’ve been paying attention!
The pain drove him to his knees as the last two bandits drew their throwing axes out of their bags and let them loose. Cain could only watch as the flying blades approached him, paralyzed and unable to move.
Death stared him in the face.
Until a wall of wind, nearly a cyclone, appeared in front of him, diverting their paths. The tomahawks, their flight paths and momentum disturbed by the sudden force, fell uselessly at his feet.
Muse appeared in front of him with a burst of speed.
“Are you okay?” asked the half-orc, concerned.
She had been following them from behind, hidden in the shadows, waiting for her chance. Considering how well he had attracted their attention, she figured that she might’ve been able to take advantage of it by staying in their blind spots - possibly even taking down McDougal without his knowledge?
That was until she saw him fall to his knees and knew that something was wrong. A quick channelling of divine essence allowed her to divert the projectiles from their intended target, saving Cain’s life.
“Y-yes,” breathed Cain. Was it going to be like this every time he levelled up?
The yellow window popped up in front of him, but he had no time. Not now, while still in the middle of a fight and with enemies on his heel Quickly he swiped it aside.
Muse paid no mind to the window nor its disappearance, so that was another question he had getting answered. Nobody other than him could see it.
“I only have one arrow left,” he started to say. Muse cut him off by tossing him a quiver.
This was Rey’s quiver.
Cain remembered the blood spilling out of the man’s wounds, and the prone forms of the other villagers, some of whom he had only just started getting to know. He didn’t know whether to thank the girl for providing him with more arrows, or snap at her for robbing the dead and dying.
“He’s okay,” she said, seeing him react to the quiver. “My Webby’s got him. Man in question’s the one who told me to get this to you.”
Titanic relief -- No! He couldn’t lose focus now. He bit back on the wave of reassurance that he felt. It would make him relax, send him to his knees, and kill his concentration.
Not now! Later! Not now!
He unstrapped his quiver, and replaced it with Rey’s, putting the lone arrow he had left into the replacement quiver. It was pretty close to full. Cain didn’t have to worry about ammunition anymore.
“Now, get ready,” said Muse. “They’re almost here.”
Cain nodded. The remaining two bandits were maybe twenty meters away. Their boss, his manic expression revealed in full by the moon, was beginning to overtake them. He threw the hand carrying his war axe up; blood sprayed from the profane weapon into the brilliant night sky.
“I’ll distract him. You kill the other two and then come support me after.”
Cain nodded and took aim.
