Without Swiftness, time flowed twice as fast for Wolf. He didn’t have Agility of the Falcon, Strength of the Ox or Endurance, meaning he was weaker, less agile and would tire more easily. But what hurt him even more than the loss of physical prowess, was that Antimagic suppressed Archibald’s spell.
Wolf’s natural height was one meter twenty-seven centimeters and three millimeters. His ears were pointy, his arms and legs had shrunk. This appearance angered and embarrassed him.
With Protection from Elements gone, he felt the damn November chill in the forest air. Most importantly, he no longer had Shield Mind, to protect him from the Demonic Converter’s influence.
Antimagic came at a hefty price. However, it granted immunity from the potential rain of destruction, which threatened to befall Wolf at any moment.
He tried not to show it, but standing naked, ready to fight, was simultaneously demeaning, yet oddly natural. Wolf couldn’t help it. His regular attire dangled from him. If he used that gear, he’d trip and die indignant.
He tried to fashion a loincloth, but failed. Wolf was baffled. With all his focus and intellect, he remained unable to tie a rag to cover his ass.
He knew he was bad at crafts, so he didn’t bother trying to alter his other clothes, but he firmly believed he could at least make himself decent. Yet he failed.
The only items the bare-butt, seemingly seven-year-old child wore were his father’s ring, which shaped itself to fit his finger, and Book, which seemed a tad too big in Wolf’s hand.
It’s small because the weather is cold. Wolf thought for the eighteenth time.
Yes, Master. Silver rolled her eyes inside her shell. Now, please, focus on what’s ahead.
The little thing couldn’t help feeling exasperated. She tried reassuring Wolf, agreeing with him, pointing out how huge he was. In the end, ignoring complaints worked the best, while attempts to let Wolf know just how gargantuan he was fared the worst.
I’m aware of what I need to do. Wolf snapped back and charged towards the Demonic Converter, wanting to vent his anger.
Master, you should keep a cool head. Silver warned once more before going silent. This was Wolf’s fight.
What occupied Wolf’s mind as soon as he leaped forward wasn’t the size of his dangly thingy in the chilly air, but the fact that his steps had grown much shorter.
Wolf’s legs grew ten percent shorter, shortening his gait. Second, since he lacked magical enhancements, his leaps lost some of their overbearing might. The result was that Wolf needed to take two paces to cross the distance which he used to cover with a single step before stripping himself of magic.
A large portion of Wolf’s mind focused on manipulating his new body. And with Swiftness gone, despite fully awakening his senses, Wolf found that the world moved much faster than before.
He had no time for idle and academic thoughts. Wolf had to focus on root soldiers bursting out of the ground and listening for shaking in the treetop high above.
No apples. Wolf failed to hear the sound of snapping stems, while making out the rustle of leaves, the scraping of branches and dull collisions of fruit.
Wolf’s goal for today was one root soldier. He feared the Demonic Converter’s tampering, and didn’t want to risk deciding with his mind unguarded. Wolf rushed towards the nearest target, but combat was dynamic. Therein lay the problem. The Demonic Converter could block Wolf, and the young man wasn’t certain he was strong enough to brute-force the issue without planning, and any plans and thoughts he came up with might contain hidden pitfalls.
While Wolf bit his lip, feeling insecure, eight root soldiers slowly emerged from the ground. Wolf didn’t use the same entry point as yesterday, but the Demonic Converter expected it and spread out its guardians instead of focusing its defense.
No, that’s not entirely true. Root soldiers are more loose where I attacked yesterday, while it squeezed them on the opposite side. It predicted I would change direction? Wolf processed what he saw while concentrating on his steps and the ground beneath his feet. Silver, is this damn thing influencing my thoughts?
No, Master. This is just a fraction of random reflections you usually have. It would be better to entertain them later. Silver agreed to watch out for any changes in Wolf’s Mind Palace. As soon as anything extreme happened, she would warn Wolf and he would flee the scene.
But I’ve been here three seconds already. Why isn’t it acting? Is it waiting for something? The inaction scared Wolf more than the Demonic Converter going all in. An overwhelming retaliation was a show of fear. Staying passive hinted that the Demonic Converter didn’t fear Wolf’s attack.
The distance Wolf used to cover in five to six seconds now stretched to thirteen. His lack of speed gave the Demonic Converter enough time to prepare. One root soldier stood ready, its mass of tendrils moving in a complex defensive pattern. The movement was slower than when whipping toothed roots to attack, but it was flexible and easy to control.
Two roots are underground. Wolf spotted that the two lowest roots remained in the ground. It was subtle. Regular manlings and Monster Beasts wouldn’t have noticed, however, such tactics had little effect on someone with senses of an Archmage, let alone Wolf.
It’s a trap. It will probably spring up behind my back while trying to trip me. Ah. There go the apples. As Wolf considered the snare set for him, stems from a hundred black apples snapped off their branches and fell towards the target root soldier.
Wolf understood the Demonic Converter’s plan and decided to play along. Wolf’s bare feet pattered, sending soil showering behind him. He reached the spot where black apples would fall and saw something slowly worm just underneath the earth.
Wolf shortened his last step, stopping himself just before the squirming soil. The ground before him erupted. A spiked root shaped like a noose snapped towards the root soldier, failing to capture its intended prey. But Wolf didn’t pay attention to the snare. He pivoted, mud piling up between his toes.
As expected. A barbed root rose from the earth without making a sound, then whipped towards Wolf’s hip.
Fucker! Wolf slashed forward with Book, protecting his most treasured assets. The tendril failed to gather momentum and instead of flying far away; it tumbled to the grass several steps from Wolf.
The situation was odd. Demonic Converter waited for the apples to fall and desiccate Wolf into a shriveled corpse while Wolf remained in place to store the thorny tentacle once it lost its vitality. The impasse ended after two seconds.
Wolf stored the tentacle, while apples harmlessly thudded around him. Wolf also willed the nearby apples into his Ring of Holding, making the situation even worse for the Demonic Converter.
It worked. Wolf’s lips drew into a subtle, smug smile. He snatched enough black apples to perform basic experiments; he severed one root and successfully stole it. All things considered, Wolf was ahead. So far, all he invested was some dignity and suffering a slight draft.
Silver, is it influencing my thoughts?
No, Master. You’re monologuing on your victory, nudity and genitals of your own free will. Silver paused, but couldn’t help preaching. Which you really should avoid mid-fight.
Wolf’s lip twisted, but he left Silver’s quip unanswered. Instead, he focused on the goal ahead. The flowing briar cloud started seething. Other root soldiers still rushed over, but there were five forming up already, and above his head, the leaves and branches shook furiously.
After a moment, several hundred apples fell, attempting to lock Wolf in place. He considered them for a flash, but found them harmless. The ring was too wide. Even when they reached his height, they were too far to cause a threat.
Barbed roots whipped towards him from root soldiers to the side as they moved to encircle him, while the one before him attacked, rather than defend. Momentarily, Wolf failed to understand the situation. Instead of defending, the Demonic Converter focused on keeping him there and surrounding him.
Those falling apples will hit me if I try to run away. But if I don’t, root soldiers will form a wall around me. I could punch through the one before me. That way, the path towards the trunk would be wide open.
Wolf decided. He slashed at the incoming roots, which created a flaw in the root soldier’s defense. With two swift strikes, Wolf cleared the way. He charged the root soldier, ready to execute another Sunder the Mountains.
Mid-swing, Wolf heard creaking high above his head. He glanced up. A giant branch moved away from him, growing as taut as possible, before striking towards him. The branch was far away. A physical blow couldn’t possibly reach him. But several hundred apples flew straight at Wolf, much faster than free-falling ones.
Oh, crap.
Without Swiftness, time flowed twice as fast for Wolf. He didn’t have Agility of the Falcon, Strength of the Ox or Endurance, meaning he was weaker, less agile and would tire more easily. But what hurt him even more than the loss of physical prowess, was that Antimagic suppressed Archibald’s spell.
Wolf’s natural height was one meter twenty-seven centimeters and three millimeters. His ears were pointy, his arms and legs had shrunk. This appearance angered and embarrassed him.
With Protection from Elements gone, he felt the damn November chill in the forest air. Most importantly, he no longer had Shield Mind, to protect him from the Demonic Converter’s influence.
Antimagic came at a hefty price. However, it granted immunity from the potential rain of destruction, which threatened to befall Wolf at any moment.
He tried not to show it, but standing naked, ready to fight, was simultaneously demeaning, yet oddly natural. Wolf couldn’t help it. His regular attire dangled from him. If he used that gear, he’d trip and die indignant.
He tried to fashion a loincloth, but failed. Wolf was baffled. With all his focus and intellect, he remained unable to tie a rag to cover his ass.
He knew he was bad at crafts, so he didn’t bother trying to alter his other clothes, but he firmly believed he could at least make himself decent. Yet he failed.
The only items the bare-butt, seemingly seven-year-old child wore were his father’s ring, which shaped itself to fit his finger, and Book, which seemed a tad too big in Wolf’s hand.
It’s small because the weather is cold. Wolf thought for the eighteenth time.
Yes, Master. Silver rolled her eyes inside her shell. Now, please, focus on what’s ahead.
The little thing couldn’t help feeling exasperated. She tried reassuring Wolf, agreeing with him, pointing out how huge he was. In the end, ignoring complaints worked the best, while attempts to let Wolf know just how gargantuan he was fared the worst.
I’m aware of what I need to do. Wolf snapped back and charged towards the Demonic Converter, wanting to vent his anger.
Master, you should keep a cool head. Silver warned once more before going silent. This was Wolf’s fight.
What occupied Wolf’s mind as soon as he leaped forward wasn’t the size of his dangly thingy in the chilly air, but the fact that his steps had grown much shorter.
Wolf’s legs grew ten percent shorter, shortening his gait. Second, since he lacked magical enhancements, his leaps lost some of their overbearing might. The result was that Wolf needed to take two paces to cross the distance which he used to cover with a single step before stripping himself of magic.
A large portion of Wolf’s mind focused on manipulating his new body. And with Swiftness gone, despite fully awakening his senses, Wolf found that the world moved much faster than before.
He had no time for idle and academic thoughts. Wolf had to focus on root soldiers bursting out of the ground and listening for shaking in the treetop high above.
No apples. Wolf failed to hear the sound of snapping stems, while making out the rustle of leaves, the scraping of branches and dull collisions of fruit.
Wolf’s goal for today was one root soldier. He feared the Demonic Converter’s tampering, and didn’t want to risk deciding with his mind unguarded. Wolf rushed towards the nearest target, but combat was dynamic. Therein lay the problem. The Demonic Converter could block Wolf, and the young man wasn’t certain he was strong enough to brute-force the issue without planning, and any plans and thoughts he came up with might contain hidden pitfalls.
While Wolf bit his lip, feeling insecure, eight root soldiers slowly emerged from the ground. Wolf didn’t use the same entry point as yesterday, but the Demonic Converter expected it and spread out its guardians instead of focusing its defense.
No, that’s not entirely true. Root soldiers are more loose where I attacked yesterday, while it squeezed them on the opposite side. It predicted I would change direction? Wolf processed what he saw while concentrating on his steps and the ground beneath his feet. Silver, is this damn thing influencing my thoughts?
No, Master. This is just a fraction of random reflections you usually have. It would be better to entertain them later. Silver agreed to watch out for any changes in Wolf’s Mind Palace. As soon as anything extreme happened, she would warn Wolf and he would flee the scene.
But I’ve been here three seconds already. Why isn’t it acting? Is it waiting for something? The inaction scared Wolf more than the Demonic Converter going all in. An overwhelming retaliation was a show of fear. Staying passive hinted that the Demonic Converter didn’t fear Wolf’s attack.
The distance Wolf used to cover in five to six seconds now stretched to thirteen. His lack of speed gave the Demonic Converter enough time to prepare. One root soldier stood ready, its mass of tendrils moving in a complex defensive pattern. The movement was slower than when whipping toothed roots to attack, but it was flexible and easy to control.
Two roots are underground. Wolf spotted that the two lowest roots remained in the ground. It was subtle. Regular manlings and Monster Beasts wouldn’t have noticed, however, such tactics had little effect on someone with senses of an Archmage, let alone Wolf.
It’s a trap. It will probably spring up behind my back while trying to trip me. Ah. There go the apples. As Wolf considered the snare set for him, stems from a hundred black apples snapped off their branches and fell towards the target root soldier.
Wolf understood the Demonic Converter’s plan and decided to play along. Wolf’s bare feet pattered, sending soil showering behind him. He reached the spot where black apples would fall and saw something slowly worm just underneath the earth.
Wolf shortened his last step, stopping himself just before the squirming soil. The ground before him erupted. A spiked root shaped like a noose snapped towards the root soldier, failing to capture its intended prey. But Wolf didn’t pay attention to the snare. He pivoted, mud piling up between his toes.
As expected. A barbed root rose from the earth without making a sound, then whipped towards Wolf’s hip.
Fucker! Wolf slashed forward with Book, protecting his most treasured assets. The tendril failed to gather momentum and instead of flying far away; it tumbled to the grass several steps from Wolf.
The situation was odd. Demonic Converter waited for the apples to fall and desiccate Wolf into a shriveled corpse while Wolf remained in place to store the thorny tentacle once it lost its vitality. The impasse ended after two seconds.
Wolf stored the tentacle, while apples harmlessly thudded around him. Wolf also willed the nearby apples into his Ring of Holding, making the situation even worse for the Demonic Converter.
It worked. Wolf’s lips drew into a subtle, smug smile. He snatched enough black apples to perform basic experiments; he severed one root and successfully stole it. All things considered, Wolf was ahead. So far, all he invested was some dignity and suffering a slight draft.
Silver, is it influencing my thoughts?
No, Master. You’re monologuing on your victory, nudity and genitals of your own free will. Silver paused, but couldn’t help preaching. Which you really should avoid mid-fight.
Wolf’s lip twisted, but he left Silver’s quip unanswered. Instead, he focused on the goal ahead. The flowing briar cloud started seething. Other root soldiers still rushed over, but there were five forming up already, and above his head, the leaves and branches shook furiously.
After a moment, several hundred apples fell, attempting to lock Wolf in place. He considered them for a flash, but found them harmless. The ring was too wide. Even when they reached his height, they were too far to cause a threat.
Barbed roots whipped towards him from root soldiers to the side as they moved to encircle him, while the one before him attacked, rather than defend. Momentarily, Wolf failed to understand the situation. Instead of defending, the Demonic Converter focused on keeping him there and surrounding him.
Those falling apples will hit me if I try to run away. But if I don’t, root soldiers will form a wall around me. I could punch through the one before me. That way, the path towards the trunk would be wide open.
Wolf decided. He slashed at the incoming roots, which created a flaw in the root soldier’s defense. With two swift strikes, Wolf cleared the way. He charged the root soldier, ready to execute another Sunder the Mountains.
Mid-swing, Wolf heard creaking high above his head. He glanced up. A giant branch moved away from him, growing as taut as possible, before striking towards him. The branch was far away. A physical blow couldn’t possibly reach him. But several hundred apples flew straight at Wolf, much faster than free-falling ones.
Oh, crap.
