+ Reid +

Reid batted a green hornet away with his bare Palm. The impact sent bits of bug guts spraying over him and his surroundings.

He was getting so many kill notifications now, he had to ignore them entirely. He let his swinging hand whip forward, and was rewarded with a few more kills and a handful of injured insects. A carapace shattered. A thorax practically exploded. Broken wings sent a wounded insect falling to the ground. Requiem felled a handful of the creatures with every swing, and the swarm pulled back and pushed forward in tepid waves as it tried to feel him out. Reid kept killing, and they kept coming. They were bugs, sure, but there were a LOT of bugs.

His kills drew the attention of larger portions of the swarm, and swirling masses plunged forwards to try and attack him. Reid jumped out of the way of a cloudlike 'arm' of the swarm and took a chunk of their number out with his mace. But the purpose of a swarm was numbers. It was the way in which all of those insects were working together to do things they were incapable of alone. Things like harrying Reid.

The fight continued to escalate. Reid smashed through bugs with his armored hands and his weapons, thankful that he'd made it a priority to keep his weapons growing alongside his stats. Reid dodged again, dexterous power shooting into his legs to allow him to leap out of the way of probing masses inside the swarm. They attempted to engulf him completely - which... Reid didn't want to test how that would go if he could avoid it. So far, he'd been successful in keeping himself out of reach.

The chances of that continuing were starting to look worse.

Another swing with Requiem made a series of firecracker-sharp pops as a new swath of insects died, but Reid hadn't seen the section of the swarm repositioning itself above him. He pulled himself back with explosive power, but the insects' magic let them keep up with his speed.

Light faded as the swarm descended, blotting out the sky and then his surroundings. Reid's momentum carried him backwards fast enough that a few of the insects died from his attempted dodge.

But only a few.

The rest tried to land on him and his armor. They probed Marrow for weak points and gaps. They tried to land on his face, and Reid had to use his left arm to cover his mouth and eyes. One stinger found a gap between his plates. The impact was hot and severe - but fleeting. More pain than damage. He could manage pain. Bodies and legs, buzzing and angry, clung to him. They shook and their vibrations brought heat. They bit and stabbed, shook and searched. Reid felt like a living ooze with prickers was coating itself over him. It was a hellish experience, even if they weren't doing significant damage.

Reid swung his right arm while he protected himself with the left. Stings accumulated around his joints, and a few managed to get him in the neck. He had to focus. The swarm was coordinated, and enraged, and massive - but he was far from being truly overwhelmed, just outnumbered. The heat from the mass of buzzing bodies was sufficiently annoying, through. He just needed to get himself free enough to go back to fighting with his full strength, and he could set the battle back to his terms.

Reid powered up a slug, and whipped it forward. It scattered insects just enough to allow him to see, and to move. Reid charged forward, beasts popping against him like bugs on a windshield. There were enough massed insects that Reid was stepping on their backs instead of the ground. He pushed through the uneasy footing, and burst clear of the cloud of bugs. There were still insects, but they were sparse and disoriented. Requiem splattered more as he made distance with the group that had just tried to contain him.

As he made it to a mostly-clear area, Reid recalled brock and sent a shattering orb hurtling towards the swarm. Bone erupted on impact and shredded through the insects. Pieces were still flying and bugs were still falling as Reid recalled his thrown weapon again. Another shattering projectile decimated a swath of insects and left a large spherical void in their number. Reid leapt sideways to avoid another counterstrike trying to engulf him, and smiled once more.

He'd found a more efficient path to victory.

Reid ducked away from insects, and managed another throw that cut off a 'striking arm' from the main mass. The separated insects started to bump into one another, and took a few seconds to reform. He was learning more about his enemy in real time as the fight continued. How to best eliminate them. How to weaken their formation. How much force he had to use to ensure his dodges carried him out of their striking range.

He whittled the beasts down, and after what had to be half an hour of fighting, there was a noticeable reduction in the size of the swarm.

As the swarm itself shrank, the hive, still writhing, came back into view. It laid on the ground like a deflated balloon, but it was different than before. Only a few of the regular bugs were still emerging from the thing - the rest were part of the swarm above. The unseen insects, the ones still inside, were bigger than their compatriots. There were at least four shapes moving in the deflated hive that were each about as large as a dog. A fifth was obvious because it was nearly double the height and length of the rest, like a pony. Or a great dane. He shook himself off his train of thought at the size of the unseen beasts to refocus on the current fight. He couldn't lose the battle rhythm he'd worked so hard to gain. Not when he was doing so well against the swarming insects.

Reid dodged back to avoid a mass of beasts, and fueled a shattering brock. He threw the projectile as soon as he landed on his feet, well-timed to separate a group of insects from the main swarm so he could reduce their number further with a few well placed swings of his mace. The bone ball was barely out of his hand when Reid noticed motion out the corner of his eye. It came into view just long enough for Reid to see an entirely metallic, dark grey arrow.

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Then it slammed into Brock, and his bone ball exploded a few feet in front of his face.

-/-)) Travis ((-\-

When he originally joined Belar, Travis had set his sights on getting general metal manipulation or metal creation magic. He was, at the time, certain that he would exist like a hero from the awakening programs, with swords and blades of all types floating and slashing out around himself like a cloud of death. The bounds of reality often cut off such outlandish dreams, and his realignment ended with a much more reasonable Lead Magic skill. He could create and manipulate the substance, and Belar's teachings had helped him become a decent combatant. The lessons on the larger universe and the real opportunities afforded to normal people were helpful. Travis knew of the world, but had still imagined Belar would be a land of unending opportunity. Instead, it was simply a better organized set of chances - and one that each person could work for and benefit from. Those lessons were ones he continued to use throughout his slow climb to his current position. They would continue to help him elevate himself, far into the future.

Effective use of limited resources had seen his group of elites - and the support troops - reach the beast lord's area at a breakneck speed. They pulled back a fair distance for the main encampment, then methodically built up a few fortifications within striking distance of the enemy. They also cleared enough branches and brush for an avenue to retreat, should they need to. Cracked beasts were rare, after all. He didn't know if he was walking into a fight his people would do well in. The nature of their work made caution all that much more necessary.

The first part of the plan went swimmingly. They succeeded in enraging the insects and retreating before his group caught their true ire. There would have been other steps to the process, if the barbarian had gotten there before them, or if he showed himself while Travis' forces were engaged, but they had no such luck. Instead, the beasts were left frenzied.

Almost immediately after their retreat, the barbarian had shown himself. He wasted time letting a few service-skilled prisoners escape, and only managed to destroy one of the twelve recording devices they'd set around the area. His actions were each an important piece of information, and Travis both committed it to memory and recorded his assumptions in his notes.

The man had successfully hid nearby, which meant he had some aptitude for stealth, or potentially a skill that made him hard to detect. His speed and strength implied he had managed to secure a very generous awakening contract, so Travis and his forces should expect to be outdone in stats. He fought simply, but effectively with a wicked-looking custom mace, and his armor was tough enough to withstand the insects' magically empowered stings. He had at least one crafted throwable that he could resummon to himself, and it seemed to work in rapid succession.

He linked the notes and assumptions to the fight recordings and sent them to all officers he could reach.

Travis had the element of surprise, and a force of well-rested elites itching for a fight. They were all F-grade, but it was obvious the barbarian was a higher level than they'd achieved - even with Belar's generosity. It was a real possibility that something could go wrong and they would lose the fight. That possibility was worth planning around.

Especially because Travis had nothing else to do.

The man didn't flag and falter as quickly as he'd hoped, so the idea of catching him when he retreated from the beasts to recuperate went out the hatch. The backup was more messy - wait until he seemed vulnerable or was lulled by the pace of his fight with the beasts, then make opportunistic strikes.

Distance, timing, habit. Factors wound through his calculations as the fight continued. The man seemed to fall further into a battle rhythm, and Travis beckoned for his troops to ready.

He created a lead arrow, placed it into the specialized crossbow, and waited for the right moment. The best way to stumble his quarry was not to attack the barbarian directly, but use his own strength and weapons against him. That would create doubt in using the weapons or attacks again, and further turn the battle in Belar's favor.

The moment of opportunity arrived a few minutes later, and Travis ensured he wouldn't miss it. He loosed an arrow that slammed into the barbarian's bone bomb - close enough to deal damage to the man.

Shards burst out from the collision, and Travis barked at his soldiers to press the attack. They'd watched enough of the man's fight to know he wouldn't be fully incapacitated so easily.

Wounded, sure, but wounded wasn't dead.

Travis created and launched more lead arrows. Fire, grass, earth, light, ice magic, and more streamed forward and slammed into the barbarian. They kept on with their attacks, even after the dust and smoke from the impacts made it impossible to properly see their target. A full minute later, Travis motioned, and the wind mage he'd held in reserve cleared the smoke and dust in a great wave of air.

The force of the wind from the F-grade mage was enough that it also scattered a swirling mass of insects. As the insects dispersed, it revealed a truly welcome sight.

Screams rang out as the barbarian writhed on the ground. There were obvious cracks and damage in his armor, and it became quickly clear that the man had used his right arm to shield his face from the majority of the blast. Insects and the launched magics had then peppered on damage. Not much, it seemed, but enough that he was crying out in agony.

Travis turned to the wind mage.

"Montes, keep that area clear of insects. I want a clean finish on the barbarian, and then we can take our time coming back at the beasts." The man nodded, and his entire form let off a soft glow as he intensified his magics. He wheeled to the fire mage and the earth mage, then the light mage. "Delmar, you and Jonah on my left. Blackburn, you take the rest, circle right and get behind him in case he has a trick up his sleeve. No mistakes. He dies here. Let's put this native out of his misery."

The man continued screaming as Travis and his troops advanced. They each took up positions at a far enough distance to react, dodge, and reinforce one another if the man tried to run or engage them. But with his current state, Travis expected that wouldn't be a possibility he needed to worry about. He was the last one to take his place, and lifted his crossbow. The honor of ending this barbarian was his, and he would take it.

Travis aimed for a cracked spot he'd noted in the man's torso armor, and frowned.

What the hell happened to the crack?

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