Threads of the Soul

Foliage blurred as Seth darted through the trees, weaving between them and barely avoiding knotted roots that seemed intentionally placed to ensnare his feet and trip him at the worst possible times. All the while he was constantly avoiding a hail of blood bullets pelting through the air and crimson arrows that shattered the trees on contact, sending splinters into the air that threatened to blind him.

It hadn't taken the mage long to find his sniper spot, something about being constantly assaulted from the same direction made it easy. But it's not like Seth was a complete idiot and hadn't expected that outcome.

When it became clear that it was going in the direction of a prolonged battle, he had quickly scooped up what limited ammo he had and added it to the collection he had floating in the air around him. It finally made him understand what a shark surrounded by pilot fish felt like.

Unfortunately for him, what he hadn't expected was the mage's intelligence. As soon as he was forced from his position and put on the run, it switched from high powered arrows to a slew of small, bloody marbles.

He quickly dove out of the way of another fatal arrow, only to find himself in the path of a shotgun blast of those horrid little bullets.

Without any time to dodge, he took one of the blood bullets to his shoulder and another two to the chest, as he was thrown backwards.

Laying on his back, cradled by the luscious forest grass, Seth drew in a strained and wheezing breath before letting out a cough that rumbled his chest. Each cough forced new waves of pain throughout him, a sensation he was getting all too familiar with.

Although his armour had prevented them from tearing through his pasty flesh, there was only so much it could do about dissipating the force.

As he took a second to recover from the wind being punched out of him, he watched as more blood bullets flew above his head. But it wasn't because of poor aim, in fact many were hitting their marks, as they collided with his floating arsenal and caused a few of them to shatter or snap in half.

Gritting his teeth, Seth drew the ammunition towards himself and quickly rolled like a log. Placing himself with his back against a tree, he cradled his chest as it rose and fell with more laboured breaths.

That damn thing was too smart for its own good.

When he was still in his sniper spot, he had been retracting almost all of the ammo that he spent. Always making sure to keep threads tied around them before he threw. But the mage had quickly grown wise to that, often forcing Seth into cover before destroying the feathered blades he had thrown.

Now that he was out of cover, it seemed to have taken it up a notch, deciding that even letting him throw them first was too generous and took it upon itself to destroy them first.

Wincing at a jolt of pain from a breath that was slightly too deep, Seth dug around in his pouch. The bullets might not be fatal like the arrows, at least not on a body shot, but they still hurt like a bitch. He had no idea what a broken rib felt like, he assumed it was unpleasant, and wasn't about to go jabbing his fingers in his chest to find out. Not that he even knew what to look for in the first place.

Regardless of how bad his injuries were, he knew that he had one thing to help him out.

A little video game tune played in his head when he finally retrieved the item he was looking for, a water bottle filled with a transparent, golden liquid. Like the blood of the old gods.

Stuffing the bottle between his thighs, he quickly unscrewed the cap before taking a few desperate gulps of the golden ichor contained within. As soon as it hit his tongue, a wave of euphoria flowed through his body that drowned out the pain. He lost himself in guzzling down the nectar of the gods, eager for just one more taste and one more drop.

Only when a blood arrow crashed against the tree he was hiding from, blowing a chunk out of the wood and causing the lumbering lumber to shudder, did he finally snap back to his senses. Yanking the bottle away from his lips, he stared at it with an expression of horror and confusion. He had nearly devoured the entire bottle in his euphoric state, leaving barely 50ml left.

Who would have thought that simple water dew, taken from the fields of golden grass he had once walked through, would have such a feeling. When he had walked through, it had a relieving feeling but not nearly on that level. Although then, he had only felt a few droplets touch his skin every few steps.

It was the difference between the occasional snack and having a buffet in front of him.

On the upside he was no longer in pain and actually felt like he had healed somewhat. But he knew that he would have to be careful in the future.

Not just because having access to such a healing item could make him more prone to sloppy mistakes, lost in the mindset that he could just heal injuries afterwards, but what he felt… Someone could easily get addicted to that sensation if they took too much at once. Watering down was definitely required in the future.

Stuffing the healing heroin back into his borrowed storage pouch, Seth poked his head out of cover slowly to check on what the maleficent mage was doing.

Unsurprisingly, he was channelling the blood into more arrows. Wonderful. But before Seth could throw a dagger to stop him, the mage was interrupted by an arrow clanging off of its mystical forcefield and a second digging into the back of its shoulder just a moment later.

The Hemogoblin mage dodged the next arrow, sending its already formed blood arrows into the treeline towards the ambushing slime girl. Seth narrowed his eyes, watching its movements carefully as it staggered around for a few seconds, wary of attack, before rooting its feet once again.

The moment it stood still, Seth lashed out with a feathered blade which scraped along the edge of the magical forcefield. But instead of being annoyed or frustrated, he simply counted.

'1…2…'

Before the feather had a chance to hit the ground or be destroyed by the mage, he yanked it back into his hand like a fish on the line and immediately threw it out again.

'3…4…'

The mage leapt to the side, barely avoiding the retaliatory attack and began to quickly form bullets of blood, launching them towards the one armed human the moment they were formed.

'5…6…'

Seth constantly drew back the feather that he threw before casting it out again, wielding it like the world's deadliest Yoyo. All the while dodging the few blood bullets that the mage was casting at him.

'7…8…'

As he cast out the feathered Yoyo once more, it sparked against the mages shield and was quickly destroyed by the frustrated Hemogoblin before he could retrieve it. Having finally destroyed the pesky weapon, the mage let out a sadistic sneer as it looked towards the human. It had hoped to see it wallowing in despair, it wanted to taste its fear. But its sneer dropped in confusion when instead the human simply looked at it with a smirk.

'Gotcha bitch.'

8 seconds. It had dodged for 8 seconds. Why? Well the answer was obvious to him now, in fact he was slightly annoyed with himself for not thinking about it sooner. But it had been Cynthia's small act of assistance that finally clicked it for him.

It had a cooldown. The reason for it, he didn't know and he didn't care, but for those 8 seconds after it cast its shield it was vulnerable.

Stepping out from behind his cover, Seth ripped another feather from the air around him and launched it towards the mage. Yet he didn't bother to wait and see if it landed, and this time it wasn't out of ignorance.

He immediately spun on his heel, reaching out with his threads and wrapping a new set around one of the emerald daggers, his mind too occupied with calculations and controlling the others. He simply let his instincts take control as he ensnared it. Ripping it from the air, he whipped it around and catapulted it to the side, off into the trees.

The Hemogoblin might have been smart, but with that intelligence came arrogance. It was confident in its shield, it was confident that nothing would be able to overcome it and that the human would eventually succumb to despair when it realised it couldn't harm it. All it saw was futile resistance, like a cornered animal. Something it had seen hundreds of times before.

But that attitude would be its downfall.

As the feather soared towards it, it sneered once again, casting its trusty shield to deflect the pathetic projectile. It focused itself on the human, waiting to see what it would do as it waited for its shield to recharge.

Yet the human did something strange. It simply held out its arm and swept it in front of it like it was swatting a fly.

Confusion etched itself onto the Hemogoblins wretched face, until out of the corner of its eye it saw the emerald dagger flying towards it from the side.

Unknown to the mage, the dagger was following a particular path. Drawing out a circle in its wide arc, with Seth at the centre of the circle. His threads acted as a fulcrum, forcing it to swing around instead of simply yanking it back.

But he was slightly off in his calculations. With his mind occupied with so many things, he had made a fatal mistake. The path that the dagger was moving would make it fly just a hair passed the mage. At most it would harmlessly clip its pointed ear.

'Dammit. Dammit Dammit! Just a little closer. Why can't you just turn!'

Seth lamented in his mind, trying to figure out if he could retract the threads and by how much at the last minute, all the while wishing it would simply turn in the air. Yet, as impossible as it seemed, that's exactly what it did.