One Step Forward (5)

You've probably heard of alchemists. Those eccentrics who committed every bizarre experiment imaginable trying to turn lead, iron, copper, and the like into gold.

To cut to the chase — they never managed to make gold. But their research, the story goes, left an enormous mark on the foundations of modern chemistry.

And ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠so the alchemists faded into history.

Until the modern age brought them back. Only now, instead of turning lead into gold, they turned money into electronic data — zeros and ones.

And I, too, had become an alchemist who forged scraps of electronic data out of cash.

"What should I buy…"

Pretending not to notice the faintly pleasant feeling stirring in my chest, I scrolled steadily through the skill list.

I wasn't going to buy much.

Only what I truly needed. Efficiently. Overspending was a bad habit.

"Holy crap, what is this."

Attack boost, defense boost, and the character gets multi-clone techniques? Plus a joint ultimate attack? For a second I was so tempted I almost dropped it in the cart without thinking.

I snapped back to my senses and forced my eyes wide open.

That skill was genuinely tempting… but a joint ultimate wasn't what I needed right now.

What good were clones if they just melted into poison?

What I needed were skills that could counter this godawful bug boss.

"Factoring in the defense side of things… maybe about three?"

The boss fight was underway, and the defense mission was running at the same time. To clear both the boss and the defense, I had to distribute the skills carefully.

Drop the scouting skills that had already served their purpose, pick up three boss-specific skills and about two for defense — ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that should do it.

I started combing through the skills with a careful analysis of the boss already forming in my head.

Insectoid body. Weapons of choice: poison and bugs. Given a name like "Demon of Plague and Decay," Phase Two might involve spraying pathogens into the surrounding area.

It might even have a passive that rotted everything nearby.

All of which made things extremely rough for a melee fighter like Hans.

Thinking it through, my top priority skills were in the "Purification," "Healing," or "Immunity" categories.

Hans was out there with nothing but a single sword — infection was inevitable. Getting the poison out of him fast was going to matter.

"Ha. I've already bought ten-something skills, and now I have to buy more."

The skills I'd purchased just kept piling up, and somehow every single boss fight felt like I was buying a fresh set from scratch.

I couldn't remember a single time I'd solved a fight with what I already had.

Complaining wouldn't change anything, so I gave up and dove back into the shop with renewed determination.

And so the night wore on as I carefully weighed skills against each other, running mental cost-performance calculations in the small hours.

And then…

— Vmmm!

I had barely resisted the siren call of skill after skill trying to seduce me, and managed to purchase only the ones I truly believed were essential.

I'd bought them with Phase Two factored in as best I could. Now everything rested on how well Hans performed.

"Haaah… do this right, Hans. Seriously."

Everything was riding on him now.

I brought up the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠grayed-out, frozen screen. At Hans's feet, the violet fumes hung suspended. Nurgle's scythe-claws were mid-swing. Hans was cornered.

I clasped my hands for a brief, desperate prayer.

Buddha, Jesus, Allah — anyone, please, just give me strength…!

I finished the short prayer, exhaled hard, and unpaused the grayed-out screen.

The violet mist hissed like meat on a grill as it climbed Hans's legs.

— Sssssssssss—

— "Gah! Aaaagh!! Uwaaah!!"

It was the kind of scream you heard in historical dramas when someone got branded with a hot iron. Hans's voice carried that same raw, searing agony — as if he were being burned alive.

His HP began dropping fast.

I immediately activated two of the skills I'd just bought.

Yellow and crimson auras settled over Hans, and the freefall of his HP stopped.

The violet fumes wrapped around him again — but now immune to poison, Hans moved as if nothing were wrong.

— "I…! I have a reason I must return! I cannot fall here!"

Hans cried out in a solemn voice. I felt that one.

I had a reason I needed to win this raid, too.

"Khrrk!"

Hans's eyes were full of despair. Violet poison-mist crept closer, seeding plague into the floor and walls as it came.

A single touch and he would melt in an instant. Tumors would erupt across his body. Spores would sprout. He would become the demon's plaything.

Nurgle unfurled long spider-legs from either side of his body and writhed them in a frenzy, looking like he was about to lose his mind from sheer anticipation and delight.

Then the poison-mist crawling across the floor swallowed Hans's feet.

Sssssssss—!

"Khrr—!! Uwaaaaah!! Aaaaaagh!!"

For an instant, Hans thought the world had gone pure white. Agony like being melted alive from the toes up seared through every nerve.

Stimulus beyond any limit raced up his spine and branded his brain; capillaries burst, and bloody tears streamed from his eyes.

It had only just touched his toes — and already a sensation like his entire body dissolving slammed through him.

Nurgle hummed softly to himself, as if savoring Hans's screams of pain.

"The sample size is still far too small. I need to observe a little longer."

At Nurgle's words, the poison-mist began climbing higher — from the tips of the toes, across the instep, up to the ankle.

Wherever the mist passed, flesh blackened and rotted. Violet tumors swelled. Skin melted away until white bone showed through.

In that short span of time, Hans blacked out from the agony and came to again, over and over. The pain was so extreme it wouldn't even grant him the mercy of staying unconscious.

Whether the mist carried a paralytic or not, his arms and legs had gone numb and unresponsive. The only free part of him was his head — and even that could seize up at any moment.

Agony like having his soul melted alive continued to torment him without pause.

Was this how he would fall to the demon?

Become its toy, and suffer eternal torment?

His vision seemed to blur. His eyes drifted shut; the world ahead turned hazy and dim.

If he closed his eyes now, would everything end?

…If it ended like this — what about the promise?

The promise… I made a promise.

He had promised Daisy he would come back. He had promised he would come for her, no matter when.

He had to keep the promise he made to Daisy. He had a reason to return.

— Shaaaaaak!

"What…?"

Onto Hans's body — riddled with plague, dying by degrees — a light descended, dazzling as the sun itself.

The sores and unidentifiable scales coating the cave burst into flame. The violet poison-mist thick with miasma thinned and vanished as the entire area was purified.

The brilliant light sank into Hans's body. A radiant sun poured out yellow and crimson radiance, wrapping him close, and the poisons that had spread through him burned away to nothing.

Caught completely off guard, Nurgle went berserk, thrashing his claws in a frenzy.

Hans opened his eyes to the scorching heat enveloping his body. The melting agony was gone. Something hot as the sun itself had entered him — he could feel it.

"This can't be!! You — you! What the hell did you do!!"

The insects composing Nurgle's body swarmed in a frenzy of agitation, skittering with a sound like rattling chains.

Hans closed his eyes and focused on the sun-hot power inside him. There, where his heart sat — a small sun.

Alongside his pounding heart, that little sun was pumping something scorching through his entire body.

"God has commanded me to strike down filthy demons!"

"There cannot still ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠be Light in this world!! Yes — you, you!! You must have used some twisted trick!! Kill you, and that power vanishes with you!!"

"The one who dies here is you! I cannot die in this place."

"■■■—!! You ■■ bastard!! Die! Die!!"

— Pssssssshhh!

Still raving, Nurgle belched out another wave of violet poison-mist — far more virulent than before, its color deeper and denser. The cave walls it touched didn't merely rot; they liquefied into pus and dripped away in thick strands.

And when it reached Hans—

Nothing happened. The solar power flowing along his skin dissolved it, and it vanished like ordinary smoke.

"I will kill you, and I will return alive."

"KRAAAAAH!! That power!! That repulsive, hateful power!! There cannot still be Light left in this world — so why, why, why!!"

Nurgle flailed his massive claws in every direction, completely unhinged. Hans dropped low and charged in at once.

He felt it instinctively. The small sun was lending him power only against poison and plague.

Everything else was no different from before.

But he could do this.

It was winnable.

He didn't know why — but with the creature raving about gods and having completely lost its reason, he could land a real blow.

— Fwoosh!

Pure white light wrapped around Hans's longsword. Was this what the Hero's holy power had looked like, that time he'd seen it?

The longsword, sheathed in dazzling radiance, was so bright its edge couldn't even be seen.

"■■■■■■—!! You dare flaunt that power before me!!"

The moment Nurgle saw the light, he shrieked and pressed the attack, driving Hans hard.

This light was the single chance he had been given. He had to make it count.

Just once…!

Hans forced his eyes wide open.

Blood rushed so hard into them that capillaries burst; bloody tears ran, and his vision went red. That was fine.

It wasn't enough to keep him from reading the attacks.

Whip-like tails thrashing to fill the cave. Claws sharp as blades. Fangs.

He saw them all clearly.

He charged forward, burning each one into his eyes.

He knocked aside the whip coming for his side.

He shattered the fang stabbing at his face.

He dodged the claw rising from the floor.

Dodge. Deflect. Shatter. Roll.

Hans never stopped moving, never stopped advancing. Nurgle was still raving, still screaming, still out of his mind.

"I hate you!! I hate the Light — I despise it!! You ■■■■■■ bastard!!"

"Khrrk!!"

He blocked a log-thick leg swinging straight at him head-on — but the full force of the impact slammed through him and shook his organs.

He heaved and spat up a thick mouthful of bright red blood.

He could feel his insides churned into a mess. Even so, he couldn't stop.

He forced his feet to move and kept going forward.

The accumulated shocks and exhaustion clung to his ankles. The rain of countless attacks left wound after wound on his body.

One more step…

Still forward. Just a little farther.

Up ahead — that repulsive, loathsome mask.

A demon that crawled like a black-shelled insect, that lured humans and killed them for sport.

Close enough that he could almost touch it if he reached out.

As the distance closed, Nurgle finally came to his senses and tried to scramble backward in a panic.

Hans did not let him.

The sword of dazzling light drove toward Nurgle's face—

"Ghhraaagh!! AAAAAAAAGH!!!"

—and punched through countless insects, burying itself deep.