BOOK 2

  CHAPTER 12

  Rockslides

  The enemy’s front line entered the kill zone.

  Perched high up on the mountainside, Bash watched the columns of soldiers advance below. Thousands of boots marched in cadence, the sound echoing off the canyon wall.

  Shai filled Bash’s mind with instructions. “Hold Bash, just a bit more.”

  Muscles tensed as his hand hovered over the fault line, slowly building up psionic power. One good strike, in exactly the right spot, and the whole cliff face would crash down.

  Shai started the countdown, “Three... Two... One… Now!”

  Bash slammed his fist down, releasing a fully charged strike. A thunderclap split the air, much louder than expected, and the ground in front of him shuddered and began to slide.

  Tons of stone broke free, cascading down the cliff. Picking up speed. Picking up mass. An avalanche of death, eager to destroy anything that got in its way.

  He could already picture the splatter. Hear the satisfying crunch. Feel the level ups and newly gained power.

  But… the impact never came.

  It took Bash several seconds to refocus on what he was seeing. Massive boulders of rock were just... floating there. Hanging frozen in mid-air.

  Cursing under his breath, he scanned the army below, looking for the source.

  There. Near the center of the column. Several figures stood with their hands raised in unison, robes billowing in a self-generated windstorm. Some kind of combined casting. Four mages working as one.

  From his high vantage, Bash could see back around the next bend, as his allies, the Beastmasters and werewolves, began their charge, Luis in the lead. They had no idea the trap had failed. No idea they were racing towards their doom.

  Without thinking, Bash backed up several steps and launched into a sprint.

  “Bash, wait!” Shai's voice filled with fear, the same way it had in the unmarked cavern.

  Too late. His feet left the cliff's edge, and the world dropped away beneath.

  The wind shrieked past as he fell, the ground rushing up to meet him at sickening speed. Below, the enemy continued their march under the suspended boulders, trusting the magic to hold.

  Channeling as much psionic energy as possible, red lightning ignited the air, leaving a trail of fire in Bash’s wake. He wasn't simply falling anymore. He had become a meteor.

  The mages spotted him as he rocketed towards them, their eyes going wide. The one to the left tried to redirect the spell, another tried to form a new barrier. Neither was coordinated nor fast enough.

  Bash impacted, and the earth cratered around him. The four magicians at the center ceased to exist. One moment, they were there, casting spells. Next, they were atomized. Fine red mist spraying outward in every direction.

  The soldiers nearby didn't fare much better. The shockwave pulverized bones, burst organs. Men who had been marching in formation now decorated the landscape in pieces. An arm landed ten feet from the crater, fingers still twitching. A head bounced away down the trail. Someone’s intestines draped across the cliff face like wet rope.

  The avalanche, no longer held by the spell, resumed its fall. Thousands of tons of stone hammered down onto the pass, crushing nearly a third of the army in an instant. Too fast for anyone to scream.

  Bash lay in the crater, broken.

  His vision swam. His body was wrong. Everything was wrong. He could feel his spine in pieces. Could feel his ribs poking through his chest. Too many inputs for the feeling of pain to properly register.

  Oh hell, he thought dimly. I’m on the wrong side of the rockslide.

  For one horrible moment, he was outside himself. He could see his own body, smeared into something barely recognizable as human.

  Green light erupted, his save state folding backwards. His spine realigned with wet, twisted clicks. His ribs retracted back into place. His organs unknotted themselves. Skin crawled over exposed muscle.

  Consciousness snapped back into his reconstituted form, and Bash gasped. Whole again. Alive again. Holy shit, I actually died that time.

  Despite reversing the damage and putting him back to one minute prior, Rewind didn’t erase the memory. It didn’t take away the emotional fatigue. He could still feel his internals liquefying as he hit the earth. Could still feel the brief instant of being nothing but scattered meat.

  Standing on shaking legs, Bash watched the stunned faces that stared back at him with a mixture of terror and disbelief.

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  He glanced over his shoulder at the wall of fallen stone behind him. He could try to climb it. Prediction ran the numbers. No. He would be cut down by arrows or catch another fireball before he made it halfway up. Even with his inhuman speed and Reflex Surge, there were simply too many enemies.

  Shai materialized beside him, her voice sounding furious. “Don’t. Ever. Do that. Again.”

  Bash managed a weak laugh. “It worked, didn’t it?”

  “Nora was right, you are an idiot.” Shai’s voice dripped with venom. “Now shut up and get ready!”

  “You were the one talking to me.” Bash protested, turning to face the recovering soldiers, who even now drew weapons and began reforming their battle lines.

  A short man wearing gleaming gold and silver armor pushed his way to the front of the crowd. He stood with practiced arrogance, one hand on his hip, chin raised high.

  “I am Lord Paul, Knight Commander,” He spoke in an insufferably pompous British accent. Nasally and full of condescension. “I hereby arrest thee for the murder of Count Richard and hundreds of Londonland's finest.”

  Lord Paul paused for dramatic effect before launching into what could only be described as a soliloquy. Something about justice and the glory of Maximus.

  Bash stopped listening. He focused on slowly filling his right hand with power, keeping the red light as concealed as possible.

  “…and so it is with great solemnity that I shall deliver unto thee the punishment so richly deserved…”

  Bash moved, twenty feet in an instant, striking the smaller man's shoulder. Energy detonated, blowing the limb off in a spray of gore.

  Paul looked down in disbelief at where his arm used to be, now a spurting stump, and shrieked. High and piercing, not at all like a lord.

  Bash grabbed him by the collar before he could collapse. The fancy armor making for a perfect handle.

  “Okay, motherfuckers!” Bash swept his gaze across those assembled. “Surrender now, and nobody else gets bitch slapped!”

  The little lordling thrashed weakly in his grip. “Kill him!” The words came out a sob. “I order you all to kill him!”

  The soldiers began to advance. Swords raised.

  Fuck it, I’ll do it the hard way. Bash picked the half-dead man up and threw him at the front ranks, bowling over at least a dozen soldiers. “Shai!” Bash yelled, plunging straight into the hole he just made. “Find me an exit!”

  > “Working on it!”

  Bash surrounded himself with softer targets, hoping the ranged fighters would think twice before firing on their allies.

  A soldier lunged with a spear. Bash caught the shaft, redirecting the spear point into a visor. Another came from the left. He put a fist straight through the breastplate and damn near out the other side. A third swung a sword at his head. Bash ducked, grabbed the arm, and used the man as a bat to knock down two more.

  Prediction fed him movements before they were even made. Reflex surge and his stats made him untouchable to this common fodder. Some brave soul was stupid enough to try and tackle him from behind. The attack didn’t even register as a threat. Bash let the harmless flee hang on as he continued his rampage.

  He caught a sword swing with an open palm, the slash barely leaving a scratch. Pulling the wielder forward by their sword, Bash headbutt the fighter’s helmet with his bare forehead, caving in the metal and the skull underneath. That one at least left a deep enough cut for a trickle of blood to run down his face.

  Around him, the bodies piled up. Several began to back away, nobody wanting to be next. Some even outright fled. This was starting to be fun.

  The crowd was thinning.

  Looking up from his latest kill, Bash noticed his mistake way too late.

  Archers had their bows drawn with clear line of sight. And further behind them, mages were gathering power, hands wreathed in fire and wind.

  Panicked, Bash sprinted towards a fresh cluster of soldiers still holding formation, desperately trying to put bodies between him and that hellstorm.

  Threading the needle between spear tips, he pushed his way into their ranks, taking a cut across his cheek. But he made it. Surrounded once more by people who wanted to kill him. Safe…

  They fired anyway.

  The soldiers around him were slaughtered, cut down by friendly fire. Bash bobbed and weaved through the carnage. He ducked under a fireball that incinerated a group of infantrymen trying to flee. He sidestepped an arrow that buried itself into the throat of another soldier.

  Another volley. Another wave of fire. More death. Prediction was stuttering, overwhelmed by the sheer volume of threats.

  Grabbing a corpse, he held it up over his head, trying to block the arrows he couldn’t dodge. Several still made it through. One sunk deep into his shoulder, another his thigh. The pain hit a second later, white-hot. He ignored it and kept moving. Stopping only meant dying faster.

  Shai appeared at the corner of his vision. Near the edge of the pass. “Here, Bash!” She was pointing at something below, her form flickering with urgency. “Jump here! Now!”

  Without hesitating, he sprinted toward her and jumped. The first outcropping came fast. His right ankle exploded on contact, the force turning his fall into a spinning cartwheel.

  His left arm shattered against a jutting rock, and he felt the shoulder wrenching free of its socket. The world spun as he bounced, tumbling through more empty air.

  A ledge caught him across the midsection, and his chest caved in. Something important ruptured inside him, and he bit off half his tongue, filling his mouth with blood.

  Five… Six... Seven... He lost count of how many times he ricocheted down the steep incline, painting every rock he touched red on the way down.

  Finally, mercifully, he came to rest at the bottom of a rocky ditch. Blood quickly pooling beneath him, warm and spreading.

  Bash blinked up at the sky. Far above, tiny dots moved along the cliff’s edge searching. They'd find him soon enough and finish the job if he didn’t bleed out first.

  Looking down, he could see, but not feel, his legs. Both were bent at odd angles. His right arm, twisted behind his back, was similarly useless.

  "Shai..." He coughed out a mouthful of blood. "I'm sorry." The words barely made it out, riding on the last dregs of air his ruined lungs could scrape together.

  She materialized beside him, with a frightened look that didn’t fit her perfect face. “Move Bash!” She yelled, trying to grab him under his arms. Her hands held for a second. Maybe two. She actually moved him a few inches before her fingers phased through. She reformed. Grabbed again. Pulled again.

  She’s getting better, Bash thought distantly, watching her struggle to drag him to cover. But it wouldn’t matter in the end. Rewind was on cooldown. The game was finally over.

  Bash started to close his eyes, determined to make Shai the last thing he saw from this shitty afterlife.

  A notification appeared.

  Bash tried to focus on it, his slowly dying brain failing to comprehend.

  Another notification.

  And another.

  His jaw moved to answer, but only a gurgle escaped. He opened and closed his mouth, but nothing came.

  One word. Just one fucking word. His whole body seized with the effort of dragging in one final breath.

  "...yes."