160. The Eternal Furnace (Part 3)

If there was one thing Serac had in common with Rathor Tyrsen (yuck), it was their endless fascination with other Wayfarers.

Prior to his Immortalization, the prince often spoke about picking his fellows' brains. Serac too had been inspired again and again by the skill, ingenuity, and mental fortitude of a rotating cast of adventuring companions. Here and now, faced with a seemingly impossible task, she decided once more to copy someone else's homework.

We need to one-shot this guy.

The idea sounded so simple in her head, but the execution would be anything but. The Tomasen twins were, undoubtedly, Serac's best 'model' for an effective one-shot maneuver. Based on what she'd learned from the Mulaharta fight, several things needed to go right in order for this to work.

First, of course, was a spell or technique (or even a combination of both) that could approach the 5,000 points needed for the job. That immediately ruled out Serac herself, given her limited options and the target's unfavorable mitigation profile. Which meant the attack would have to come from Zacko or Renna (or a combination of both!).

The second component could best be summed up as time and space—time to charge up the attack and the space to do it without enemy interference. The Tomasens had demanded lengthy prep time for their [Buzzer Beater], but they'd also had the luxury of Serac and Renna baiting and distracting Wildspawns of questionable intelligence. Here, the role would fall solely to Serac—and against a seasoned warrior at that.

The third criterion was to land the damn thing—perhaps the finickiest and trickiest part of the whole gambit. It'd require precise coordination between all three members of Team Serac, not to mention a healthy bit of luck. Yet, if truth be told, Serac wasn't worried. For she happened to be a very trusting soul, and lately, her luck hadn't been half-bad either.

A certain Manesferan she knew liked to say that necessity was the mama of invention. Well, necessity had just sparked Serac's invention of a credible plan to one-shot the boss. The trick now was to communicate it to her companions as quickly as possible, all without tipping off Rathor.

[13!], [14!], [17!], …

The steam-storm raged on, only growing in intensity. By now, the turbulence within the Sanzu-[Avici] transition zone had sucked in visible ash from the surroundings. Terrible news for anyone with eyes, but for Serac—and for what she needed to do—it doubled as a blessing in disguise.

Now or never. Invention into revolution. Serac cycled her chamber to land back at the all-important Two—the one reserved for a [Hungry] Rakshasa and her [Synthesis]-enabled magic.

[Chamber Two: METABOLIC SHIFT]

[MP: 42 -> 32]

Serac remembered well the last time she'd eaten something made from Wildspawn parts. It felt like a lifetime ago now, but in fact, it'd been just this morning, right after her three-dimensional duel against a jugular-slicing Rodrin Skjortsdatter. The [Ulvknall Liver] had been her introduction to the culinary world of Pretjord, and now, it'd serve as her final say on a drawn-out coup d'état.

[PULVERIZER Alternate Form: SCRAPPER]

Jagged rocks instantly transformed into a big, furry wolfpaw—oddly liquid-looking yet plenty menacing in its own right. But the Ulvknall was a scrapper, willing to stoop as low as needed to win a fight. To that end, Serac flexed her razor-sharp claws and grabbed a paw-ful of ash.

[SCRAPPER Technique: POCKET ASH]

[MP: 32 -> 22]

A veritable tidal wave of ash swept through the center of the arena, obscuring Rathor from the Wayfarers' view, and vice versa. Serac took the opportunity to beeline toward Renna in a mad rush.

[MP: 22 -> 12]

"Your finisher from the Realmhunt," she whispered as soon as they were within earshot of each other, "I'll cover for you both."

[MP: 12 -> 2]

Serac kept her message as concise as possible, trusting in Renna's instincts and intelligence. It appeared that her faith had been well-placed, for the frog woman immediately [Fluxed] out of view (and in Zacko's direction!) without so much as a nod of acknowledgment. So far so good.

[MP: 2 -> 0]

With that, Serac had run down her Mana pool. If she wanted to keep channeling [Metabolic Shift], she'd need to switch over to [Satiety], or—

[Pearl of Wisdom]! Not only was the blue, fizzy drink the tastiest item off OYSTER's menu, it was also exactly what the doctor ordered. A second full MP bar, and with it, at least twelve more seconds of responsible channeling.

[MP: 114 -> 106]

With Renna (and Zacko by extension) folded into her plan, it was time for Serac to focus solely on her all-important role as tank. The goal was to buy time and space for her companions, and the best way to do that was to get right up in the boss's face. She dashed into the ash-storm, firing off more unimbued bullets to occupy Rathor's attention.

[MP: 106 -> 96]

[TRUEFLIGHT—SAMGHATA]

Rathor [Flew]—trident pointed to the opposite side of the approaching gunslinger. Despite—or perhaps because of—the veil of ash, he must've sensed that something was amiss. But Serac managed to halt him in his tracks, catching the point of GUNGNIR smack in the middle of her chest!

[ABYSSAL PLATE Current Durability: 11%]

[MP: 96 -> 86]

Even by the most conservative estimate, her [Abyssal] chestpiece could tank only one more hit. She needed to save it for when it really mattered. For now, she squared up to the momentarily 'doused' boss, determined to block his advance any way she knew how.

[MP: 86 -> 76]

Up close, Rathor's vermilion smile shone so brightly as to be all but blinding. How could he still smile at a time like this? But if Serac could look herself in a SCRYGLASS right now, she would've seen that she and Rathor were more alike than she realized.

[MP: 76 -> 66]

Forget the smile. Focus on the weapon.

With barely any gap between them, Rathor now opted for an old-fashioned jab, aimed low to avoid Serac's chestpiece. The latter sidestepped it, countering with a paw swipe in the same motion. But then the former ducked under it, deftly moving into an upward slash as he did.

[MP: 66 -> 56]

Even while she whiffed her attack, Serac had a back-up plan. For just as Rathor had ducked, she'd grabbed another paw-ful of ash right above his billowing mane. She now threw it down for a second instance of [Pocket Ash].

[232!]

[MP: 56 -> 46]

At the same time, Serac had taken a direct hit in her SCRAPPER arm. Unavoidable in the circumstance, and damage she was more than happy to tank. Far more importantly, the fresh cloud of ash had given both combatants pause—one more precious second off the countdown.

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[MP: 46 -> 36]

Now, Serac could sense the prince's growing impatience. There was no telling what he might do, but she kept her senses sharp all the same, relying especially on her horns in the paucity of visual cues. And sure enough—

[TRUEFLIGHT—KALASUTRA]

[MP: 36 -> 26]

Flash of black-green. Spinning trident and a prince's attempt to sublimate into fire, the better to bypass a pesky defender.

But Serac had committed to stopping him, and she now gave more of her own flesh to the cause. She reached into the flames, SCRAPPER-first, claws spread wide for maximum 'stabs in the dark'.

[232!]

[MP: 26 -> 16]

It hit! And that was exactly what Serac had been after: physical contact with GUNGNIR to 'pull' its wielder out of his flames. Rathor, along with his ceaseless smile, showed himself again, spinning back down to earth.

[MP: 16 -> 6]

Here, Rathor took a moment, seeming to consider his options. At this distance, Serac saw every flicker of black-green flames within the prince's radiant eyes—churning gears within an eternal engine.

[MP: 6 -> 0]

[Satiety: 17 -> 16]

At last, Serac was fresh out of Mana—and [Metabolic Shift] had already taken a single point off [Satiety] to make up the difference. Frenzy was now a mere few seconds away, but then so was victory.

There was nothing for it. She kept [Metabolic Shift] running, just in case she needed one more [Pocket Ash] as a distraction. At the same time, she attuned her horns to Rathor's intent—sensing the next move just a Ksana before the prince made it.

[Satiety: 16 -> 13]

Rathor raised GUNGNIR—straight up and down—and shoved its point into the ground. But Serac knew what this was, and she dove onto her back to intercept.

[TRUEFLIGHT—RAURAVA-TAPANA]

[Satiety: 13 -> 10]

Big time AOE, intended—if not to smoke out the rest of Team Serac—then at least to take their dedicated tank out of the equation. And it would've worked, had it not been absorbed by Serac's [Abyssal] chestpiece!

Crack!

[ABYSSAL PLATE Current Durability: 0%]

[Trinket destroyed: ABYSSAL PLATE]

[Satiety: 10 -> 7]

Still, Serac knew that her job was far from finished. She kept herself flat on the ground, as she holstered REVOLVER and reached up with both hands. She then grabbed GUNGNIR by its shaft, holding on with the strength of a SCRAPPING Ulvknall.

[Satiety: 7 -> 4]

Rathor pulled on his trident, as if to 'dig' it out of the ground. Serac held tight, staring up at her opponent all the while.

The prince's face was mostly obscured by his drooping hair—save for his shining smile. He flexed his muscles for another attempt at dislodging his weapon… but then seemed to think better of it. He must've realized that the safest thing now was to let go and get as far away as possible.

[Auxiliary Technique: ELEMENTAL SURGE]

[Satiety: 4 -> 1]

By then, it was too late. For all while Serac and Rathor had been locked in a battle of wits and reflex, Renna and Zacko had been 'charging up' their collaborative finisher.

[Pearl of Endurance] to temporarily grant a NINEFOLD master infinite Stamina. [Pearl of Strength] to extend a giant shovel's reach and buff its damage potential. Then they both got to work, hidden in ash-storm.

Renna had spun up [Flux] and kept spinning in place, ready to receive whatever harmful elements her Manusya partner could serve up. Into this ever-expanding pocket, Zacko had fed 15 uninterrupted seconds of [Fist of Eruption]—the strongest ranged attack in a [Sinner]'s repertoire.

And now, a souped-up [Surge] to throw every ripple of that indiscriminate wrath and calculated violence into Rathor and Rathor alone! For Serac had kept herself flat on the ground, safe from the arc of DREDGER's swing. She also made sure to switch off [Metabolic Shift], as she relaxed into her front-row seat to watch the fireworks.

[4,985!]

Just shy of 5,000! Not quite a smite yet, but it might as well be, for the boss was now well and truly Poise-broken. Rathor's grip on GUNGNIR loosened, as he himself dropped to his knees—vermilion face now hidden entirely behind a mop of ash-gray.

The momentum of her own attack had carried Renna far past Rathor and onto the other side of the arena. Zacko would be strung-out somewhere amidst the ash-storm, recovering from his own [Sinner]-induced Poise-break. Which left Serac with the duty to squeeze one last trigger—to deal the smiting blow. She drew REVOLVER to do just that, when—

[DIAPHRAGM Spell: INHALE]

[Wayfarer Status Effect: HYPOXIA]

The raging storm abated—but only for a moment and in a tight cone that connected a supine gunslinger to a vengeful queen. Loha had returned—just as Serac had predicted she might—and at the worst possible time!

Serac's aim faltered, as she once again had the wind sucked out of her. She tried to recover—tried to keep herself still and resolute—but then she saw the Rakshasa queen out of the corner of her eye.

A picture of calm and concentration—a woman who'd made her choice, cast her lot, and was now focused on a singular outcome. The queen pursed her lips, intent on [Exhaling] away her nearest source of nuisance.

[MATCHSTICK Spell: HEAT SOURCE]

Suddenly, an enormous burst of bright green flames at Loha's feet!

It'd been thrown up by Petter Svensen—he who'd covered himself in crystals and avoided detection for the entire fight. He'd also diligently [Sunk] more and more thermal energy into his MATCHSTICK, waiting for the perfect moment to fire up his kitchen!

Chef Petey's timing had been as impeccable as Loha's had been (almost) calamitous. The latter now coughed violently, doubled over in pain and shock—pain of having [Inhaled] a whole steam-storm's worth of heat… and the shock of having been bested by a creature beneath her notice.

[658!]

There'd be time later for Serac to shower Petter with kisses, thanks, and adulation. Right this Ksana, however, an Immortal prince stirred above her, ready to rise anew.

Oh no, you don't.

Serac had done many strange and wonderful things on her Wayfaring journey, but 'dealing a smiting blow while flat on her back' hadn't been one of them. Well, there was a first time for everything.

[123!]

Flashy until the very end, Rathor Tyrsen burst into a pillar of roaring flames—one last laugh to mark his departure. When the flames dissipated, however, only swirling Souldust remained in their wake.

[REALM IMMORTAL SMITED]

[Waystation Privilege awarded. Current charge: 1]

[Ascension Mandate awarded. Ascension status: INELIGIBLE]

[57,400 क]

This time, the changes were immediate.

The fires of [Avici] extinguished themselves in an instant, leaving behind a charred skeleton of the Apical Bough. The 'transition zone' then became a mere receptacle for the Sanzu River, as a waterfall thundered anew from the heavens above.

The whole group of Wayfarers might've washed away then to an uncertain fate… had it not been for quick-thinking Renna and her latest [Flux] pocket—just wide enough to fit the four members of Team Serac. The quartet then drifted down the slopes at speed, riding the Sanzu back to the 'flatter' portion of Krongard.

As she tumbled about inside the pocket, Serac did spare a thought for Loha. The Rakshasa queen had been stranded by herself when the flood hit, and if her anatomy were anything like Serac's, she'd have a hell of a time getting out alive.

But then Serac's misplaced sympathy was quickly replaced by heady jubilation. They'd done it! Smited a Immortal and saved the Realm from an eternity of hellfire. She ought to jump up and celebrate with her comrades-in-Paths—except she simply couldn't find the strength.

It was just that… she felt ever so [Hungry].

There was a yawning pit where her tummy should've been. A lifeless husk instead of an able body. And flickering embers where her mind struggled to hold onto her sense of time, place, and person.

But perhaps the strangest change was to her vision.

Serac didn't know when it had happened. She could barely keep her eyes open, but even what she did see had a distorted appearance—filtered through a red haze. She wanted to look upon her friends' triumphant faces, but instead, all she saw were formless shadows jumping across a blood-soaked field.

"Serac?" One of these shadows spoke now, its voice mangled and corrupted beyond recognition. "Oi, princess, stay with us! Bubblegum! You gotta—something's—something's seriously wrong with Serac!"

[Satiety: 1 -> 0]

[WARNING: Frenzy Imminent]

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