Dog Days in the Tunnel - 2
Sion's main storyline, 'Shattered Crown', might seem intricate in its details, but on the whole, it was straightforward.
Individuals lacking the power to directly harm Sulho Daeje, Rex Frozenheart himself.
They were simply targeting his bloodline—still immature in strength—for their nefarious schemes.
And the protagonist of Abyss City had a simple role and goal in all this.
It was essentially a tower defense game: keep those threats from reaching Noah Frozenheart and ensure they never got the drop on her.
Failure wouldn't just spell disaster for Noah—it would lead to an ending where the elves who fled Tigrova in the backlash were wiped out to the last.
I'll wrap this up today.
Knowing that, Rohan steeled his resolve.
From here on out, failure was not an option.
"I'll head down first."
As Rohan leaped from the tunnel roof with perfect timing, sword in hand,
Clara, perched atop it, flicked her fingers.
It felt real—the way she moved and synced with him just as he'd instructed. A wave of satisfaction and an inexplicable heat surged through the girl.
"Arachne."
Right in front of Rohan's landing spot, the loose threads laid across the road snapped taut in an instant.
A single, pitch-black strand—barely visible—stretched horizontally across the tunnel entrance.
The oncoming vehicles were like flies plunging into a spiderweb.
Clara's threads, honed to razor sharpness with undivided mana investment, unleashed their lethal cutting power.
Peeep—! Ting-ting—!
The lead vehicle passed straight through Clara's threads.
Rohan landed atop its chassis, now sliced so precisely it barely registered.
Thud! A mana-infused drop.
The impact shattered the windshield, proving Clara's trap's worth.
The vehicle began showing signs of its loose severance.
Rohan plunged his longsword into the driver's seat without hesitation.
He swung it through to the passenger side.
Dead.
The blade had pierced flesh already lifeless after passing Clara's threads.
He felt the satisfying resistance of cutting through meat and bone, but no screams or reactions.
The severed sections split with a crack, twisting as the wheels lost direction and veered toward the wall.
Rohan kicked off the car and landed inside the tunnel.
Screeech—! Boom!!!
The tunnel turned into pandemonium in a heartbeat.
The vehicles trailing behind had hit Clara's traps too, their wheels spinning wildly.
Crash-tang—!!
Rohan dodged the tumbling wrecks. His eyes quickly scanned the chaos.
The tunnel was blocked picture-perfect by the pileup.
How many survived, I wonder.
It depended on how quickly the lead cars sensed the anomaly and the aggressive mana surge—and how they handled the unavoidable trap even if they slowed.
Only the second row got hit properly.
From the severed debris, it looked like some had forced their way out with punches or kicks.
Rohan figured that was a solid response.
Clara's single gesture had wrecked every vehicle,
but some were empty inside, no mangled corpses. A shame—they hadn't all died.
—Guhk, fuck... where's the boss?
—You crazy bitch! Who the hell are you with! Guhk...!
Chaotic voices echoed from outside the tunnel, but Clara would handle that.
Rohan had no need to go out there now.
Jackpot. As expected.
The one who'd rolled out through the sliced roof without exposing himself was inside the tunnel.
This guy had escaped right before the collision, slipping deep inside.
"Good doggy. Time for your bean paste treat."
Rohan advanced into the tunnel, longsword raised, his voice and footsteps echoing.
No intention of letting him retreat.
"Hoo... no wonder my horoscope said today's luck was in the gutter."
Akin Doberman, the Doberman beastkin and leader of the pack.
He spat out the cigarette dangling from his mouth, eyeing Rohan coolly despite barely surviving the ambush.
Clack!
Doberman held a crossbow—commonly called a bolt-action—in one hand.
Modernized with a gleaming frame and even a scope.
Aside from firing arrows, it could pass for a gun.
That's why Rohan stayed wary.
In a world where anyone could get a gun easily,
someone wielding a bow or crossbow as a weapon wasn't to be underestimated.
It meant confidence that arrows outdid bullets in power and effect.
Focus. Mana distribution is key.
He'd prepared for the bulky Bulldog brothers who usually flanked him,
but they seemed to have escaped outside or drawn to Clara.
Without those meat shields crowding his view, things felt wide open from the start.
Step. Step. Step.
Rohan closed the distance without a word, seizing the opening.
Doberman raised his crossbow, aiming at Rohan.
"Too many grudges to guess who sent you."
Doberman infused the bolt with mana
and fired without hesitation.
Rohan had focused the moment he saw mana ripple along the arrow.
As Doberman's finger twitched, he swiftly raised his longsword.
Clanggg!
The blade blocked the mana-charged projectile.
It rang like a hammer strike.
Heavy.
Rohan's palms stung from the impact.
Thud!
From walk to sprint.
Rohan kicked off the hard ground, charging straight in.
"Impressive guts."
Doberman lifted his crossbow again, facing the opponent charging head-on without dodging.
Clack!
A split-second timing battle.
Their eyes met with the crossbow aimed at Rohan's forehead.
Doberman fired without flinching.
Rohan kicked Doberman's hand skyward,
and swung his blade, dyed red with skill.
Whoosh—!
The sword cleaved empty air.
As Doberman backpedaled, Rohan pursued while kicking a rolling side mirror at him.
"Told you, bean paste treat."
Doberman jerked his head aside with a smirk.
"Not soup weather. Been craving human flesh lately. Offer your neck—I'll chew you bones and all."
Doberman leaped back, drawing short bolts from his coat.
Load. Infuse mana. Aim.
All fluid as water, he kept up the fierce close-quarters brawl with Rohan.
Thwip!
A bolt grazed Rohan's shoulder.
Shing!
The searing blade missed by a paper's width, charring his coat hem.
Amid the flurry: grapples to control weapons, shoulder clashes.
Doberman held his own in close range.
Punches and dogfights had kept him alive before the crossbow.
He couldn't dominate Rohan with his longsword, but he wasn't helpless either.
"..."
Neither breath faltered yet.
It felt like another world from the screams outside the tunnel.
Both thought the same.
Way more annoying style than expected.
They readjusted their weapons.
Tschk!
Rohan crouched low, like a hunter stalking a wary beast.
Or a dogcatcher versus a stray.
That mutt's a slippery bastard at creating distance.
Doberman was faster than Rohan.
But not as nimble as Sion or Clara.
Yet his standout trait shone: footwork honed by experience.
Whatever.
No impatience for Rohan.
The one getting antsy was that beastkin.
Even with the crossbow raised and a calm face,
Play defense, and he'll have to pull it out eventually.
Patience brings the moment.
Rohan knew it.
*****
Akin Doberman analyzed the sounds caught by his keen ears while focusing on the opponent before him.
His underlings were dying fast outside the tunnel.
That girl on the tunnel roof's handling the outside, huh.
From the rough aura, one might think she was the leader facing him.
Yet somehow, this matchup felt right.
Lessons from wandering back-alley shadows: superior mana and physique didn't guarantee victory.
Just better odds. On the razor's edge, nothing was absolute.
The real headache if left alive... is him.
Doberman's instinct screamed.
To survive here, kill the man first.
Mana reserves...
Enough for skills.
But keep firing bolts like this, and even that might run dry.
Use it.
If this failed to kill, it was over—but no such failures had put him here.
"..."
Thud. Tap-tap—. Thud. Tap-tap-tap—.
Doberman's footsteps changed.
One step echoed like several, staggered slightly.
Rohan sensed it.
"!"
Then Doberman multiplied.
Leaving thick afterimages as he moved.
They circled Rohan, who tried grasping the situation.
All mirroring the same motions.
Doberman's illusions were low-tier, but illusion skills were rare gems.
Tough to counter on first sight.
It bred unease: act rashly, sink deeper.
"I'll kill you clean."
"I'll kill you clean."
"I'll kill you clean."
...
...
The multiplied voices echoed through the tunnel.
Doberman couldn't sustain the skill long. Feigning calm, he raised his crossbow.
Here it comes.
Rohan gripped his hilt like he'd crush it, seizing the waited moment.
Illusions were eerie. A foreignness clung to his limbs.
Even knowing the skill, the vivid sight, smell, sound bred doubt.
As Juyeon warned, less self-confidence made escape harder.
But Rohan had no qualms.
He'd waited precisely for this.
Beyond academy training, he had a sure counter.
Buy Ichinose some snacks when I get back.
The breakthrough Ichinose Yui unwittingly created demonstrating swordplay.
An unexpected status window use.
Recalling it, Rohan invoked his consciousness.
Status window.
Name: Rohan
HP: 88%
MP: 71%
Affiliated Nation: Southern Ruins' Remnant
Affiliated Group: Orion Academy
Attributes: [Physical] [Fire]
Status: Confusion (Hallucination)
Remaining Points: 3,772P
It was listed in status. I'm under hallucination.
That certainty sufficed to shatter this level of illusion.
[Illusion's falsehood detected.]
[Perfectly aware of the hallucination.]
[Escaping hallucination.]
"I'll kill you clean."
A clear voice from the right.
No phantoms in view. The unease in his limbs vanished.
The subtle aftertaste of low-grade illusion dispelled—refreshing, beyond expectation.
Rohan channeled mana in a surge, lunging forward,
and swung his sword like lightning.
One Sword - Flame Cut