Chris Huisjen
patreon
Stormblade C21: The Price of Power (3)
🕑 Added 2025-06-16 13:15:00 +0000 UTC21 - The Price of Power (3)
As we climbed the tunnel in the dark, I kept waiting for an arrow between my shoulder blades or to walk into a razor-sharp string trap.
But that didn’t happen.
The only sound was our clothing crackling at the joints with every motion; it was cold enough to freeze, even against our body heat. Without Zeke’s Unique skill, I’d have been in real trouble. Even as it was, my skin was covered in goosebumps, and my fingers felt stiff against the Stormsteel rapier’s grip.
The only bits of good news were that Zeke had—finally—shut up, and that Andrew’s team thought we were dead. I was going to take advantage of that second fact soon, but the first was already paying off.
I stopped at an intersection and held up a hand. The freezing air howled through icicles so long they touched the ground to either side of us, from left to right. If I was correct, right would bring us back to the chamber we’d been in when we split up.
Instead, I chose left, pushing against the wind.
My battle plan was simple.
The archer had been suspicious of us from the beginning. She might not believe we were dead. If she didn’t, either the whole team would come after us, or she would alone.
In the event of the first one, Zeke and I would play dumb. We couldn’t fight four D-Ranks. That just wasn’t possible. But we could play it cool and try to survive whatever they tried next, or try to escape from the portal before they cleared it. Either way, I’d have to keep my anger in check, and Zeke would have to manage his fraying nerves.
That made the second option better. If she came after us alone, I was going to kill her.
It’d be tough, and Zeke was against it. He just wanted to leave. But I needed revenge. I couldn’t let this go. It was too much like the bullies on the playground in elementary school. Someone had to stand up to these guys, and there wasn’t anyone else around. It was me, or no one.
And she was the most likely to come after us.
The icicle-filled path was miserable to cross; I could only hope that the jagged, spiky terrain would flatten out up ahead, so I could set an ambush. If the archer was able to get distance, she might be able to kill me before I closed the gap. I needed somewhere I could move quickly, but where she couldn’t get a clear sight line.
“Kade, there,” Zeke said, pointing at a patch of snow. “Do you think that’s…?”
“An Ice Troll? Probably.”
We gave the monster’s lair a wide berth and kept moving. Then I had an idea. A really bad one.
“Watch the path and get ready.” I pulled out my notebook and scribbled on a page. Then I tore it out and released it, letting it float in the frigid air. Three more followed.
And then I pulled one of my lightning trap Scripts out, took a deep breath, and put it in the snow, right next to the monster’s trap. I withdrew as quietly as I could. The trap was set and baited. “Let’s get out of here.”
We hadn’t gone a hundred yards when an arrow slammed into the icicle next to us.
I threw myself left, hitting the snow hard and rolling with it.
Zeke stood there for a second like someone who’d never been in a fight. Then I dragged him down. His armor smashed a dozen icicles flat, and he gasped as he crashed to the ground.
“You two are wasting your time,” the archer said. It was the first time I’d heard her voice. It was surprisingly lyrical—almost like she was singing—and I couldn’t figure out exactly which direction it was coming from. It rose above the wind’s howl; I could hear it clearly across the cavern. “You can’t beat me.”
“Is she right?” Zeke whispered.
“No.” I wasn’t sure. My trap had failed; in fact, she’d almost certainly seen me lay it. The hope had been to stun both her and the Ice Troll, close the gap, and create a chaotic, three-way fight. That was still possible, but it’d be messy.
Another arrow zipped across the cave, bouncing off two icicles on its way and filling the air with snowy powder. I took the opportunity to move. She was almost certainly doing the same thing—not that I knew where she was.
It did give me an idea, though. As Zeke followed me, breathing hard, I stopped and pulled his head back down. “She’s got a way to track us, but unless she’s really specialized, I don’t think she can blind-fight. What do you have?”
Zeke looked pale. I shook him a little, and he started answering. “My Unique skill can cover Health regen, movement, and damage. I don’t know why—“
“What else?”
“I’ve only got like two other skills. Heavy Armor Mastery and Heavy Blade Mastery. They’re worthless. I’m still building.”
A whining sound filled my left ear—more whiny than Zeke—as an arrow passed by close enough that the fletching grazed my hair. “Come on out. I’ll make it quick,” the archer called.
I needed a plan. Something to turn the fight around. If I couldn’t find one, it was only a matter of time until the archer killed us. “Okay. Zeke, I need you to breathe. This is going to sound dumb, but it might work. Take off your helmet.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
He unbuckled it, passed it to me, and pressed his face down into the ice as low as it’d go.
“Okay. Give me the speed buff. When I move, you move. Hit the ceiling, try to knock some snow loose—or whatever you can do to cloud up the air. Wait five seconds, then switch to the damage buff. Got it?”
Zeke nodded.
I turned off the lightning blade but kept the rapier summoned.
Stamina: 59/170, Mana: 125/200
Plenty of Mana, but not enough Stamina—and no potions this time. I’d have to be perfect here. I rested the helmet on the tip of my blade, pressed my body as low as it would go, and lifted the Stormsteel rapier.
Then I waited. One second. Two.
Wham!
The impact shook my hand and threw the helmet across the cave, an arrow through the face gap. It had come from the right. “Go!” I yelled.
I sprinted as Zeke pushed himself up and started breaking icicles and kicking up snow. The mental countdown started.
One.
Two.
Another arrow whipped by as I ducked. I electrified the Stormsteel rapier.
Three.
Four.
Someone screamed in pain. Zeke, maybe?
Five.
Zeke’s buff switched, and I slowed. The archer appeared from behind an icicle, brown cloak flapping behind her as she tried to reposition. I threw myself into a Vital Lunge; she dropped her bow and leaped backward, and the tip of my sword sliced her thigh—but not deep enough to do real damage.
Then she had two daggers in her hands, and she used a skill.
I’d expected a decent fight. Instead, I got a whirlwind of stabs and slices. Before I could react, I was bleeding from a half-dozen cuts to my arms and face. I stabbed again; she threw herself inside my reach, and I had to grab a wrist with my off-hand to avoid a gutting blow.
She pushed. I pushed back.
For a second, my strength felt like it might win. Then she shoved harder, and the dagger inched closer to my stomach. Worse, her other hand was free; she scored a thin line across my leather breastplate that cut to the chainmail below.
I collapsed to the ground and rolled right. The sudden move flung the archer into an icicle, and a cloud of breath erupted from her lungs as I let go of her. I forced Stamina into the worst wounds, trying to ignore the pain. “Healing!” I called.
The buff shifted again. I couldn’t overpower the archer—even the poor role matchup for her was outweighed by her skills and her higher rank. I’d have to change my plan. But I had, if not a healer, then at least something close. My wounds itched and burned as they slowly closed and scabbed over, only to re-open as I rushed the archer and stabbed for her chest. I needed to stop her from recovering her bow and getting distance. If she pinned me down, I was done.
The battle trance took over as I closed in. She knocked my blow sideways and danced away. One dagger was gone; the bow was feet away. I threw another Vital Lunge her way, bending into the thrust. She took it under her rib; blood leaked into her leather armor. But she stayed up. Her hand landed on her bow. I slammed my shoulder into her back. Drove her into the snow. The Stormsteel rapier flew out of my hand and disappeared.
Shit.
She rolled on top of me, straddling my chest. The dagger hung over my face; I grabbed her wrist with both hands, and she pushed down with her whole weight. “I told you, kid! If you’d given up, I’d have made it quick, but now? Now, it’s gonna hurt!”
I tried. I pushed with every bit of muscle I had, tried to roll out from under her—anything I could think of. But I couldn’t let go to summon my sword, and nothing else I could do would help. I needed…something. Anything.
The tip of the dagger touched my throat. A piece of paper flapped in the wind next to a patch of snow.
I let go with one hand, pushed the archer’s wrist to the right, and rolled my whole body left. The dagger ripped across the side and back of my neck as I rolled; hot blood poured down my side and back, cooling as it hit my soaked, frozen clothes. But it didn’t hit anything vital. I could keep fighting.
I summoned the Stormsteel rapier.
The tip reached out, searching for its target.
And a moment later, a roar of pain filled the tunnel.
◄▼►
The moment my sword sliced through the lightning trap Binding, three things happened.
First, lightning raced up the sword and into my arm.
Second, the archer’s muscles convulsed, and she collapsed into the snow.
And third, the Ice Troll that had been lying in wait roared as it thrashed inside the snow pit it had dug, claws and fangs ripping at the ice around it.
If it had only had one target, the lightning trap would have lasted longer. As it was, it only lasted about three seconds—but that was more than enough time to re-shape the balance of the fight. Through half-closed eyes, I watched as Zeke rushed in, sword drawn, and slashed down. His blow landed on the archer’s back; armor straps snapped and her cloak ripped.
Then she rolled right and sprang to her feet, and the Ice Troll rose to its full height. It started dragging itself from its hole, and I picked myself up. The cut to the back of my neck was already slowly gumming up, but I felt light-headed, and I couldn’t tell if it was from the blood loss or the shock trap.
It didn’t matter.
The troll moved first. Its claws lashed out, and the archer backed away to avoid the slicing claws or the inevitable grab that would follow. I saw an opportunity; my foot connected with the abandoned bow, and it flew into the icicles. “Get it!” I shouted.
Zeke stood there for a second, sword hanging from a loose arm and a shocked expression on his face. Then he turned and started moving.
I lunged again, Stamina dipping dangerously low. My sword caught the Ice Troll in the shoulder. It roared and whirled as I stepped back.
The fight could be a deadly balancing game—one where I had to keep the Ice Troll engaged while wearing it down, and keep the archer from getting to her bow or second dagger. If I could do that, the troll had a good chance of killing her for me. It’d be the safest way to win.
But I didn’t want safe.
She’d known. From the moment we’d stepped into this dungeon, she’d known she’d be trying to kill me. And she’d thought it would be easy. My fingers gripped the rapier with white knuckles as I circled, putting the archer between the ice troll and me. It was just the three of us, and I had to be the one to finish this.
I had to kill her. And I wanted to.
And now was the time. Now, while she couldn’t focus on me.
The Ice Troll roared. The archer’s eyes flickered toward it for a second. And I thrust the rapier into her side. This time, I caught something; she started to double over, gasping in pain. Then she pulled herself together, dodged my next attack, and stabbed twice.
Both found their marks. The Ice Troll roared in agony, blood pouring from both eyes. It lashed out, but even wounded, my opponent avoided the clumsy strikes. She threw herself at me. Her dagger flashed toward my face.
I parried. Then I followed the deflection with a cut across her face. She gasped again, and her dagger slammed into my chest. I rolled with it, and instead of cutting into me, it clattered and sparked across the chainmail inside my breastplate.
That armor had saved my life twice so far.
As she recovered from the blow, I stepped back, creating space. “Damage!” I called. Then I sent another Vital Lunge rocketing her way as she closed in.
This one caught her in the chest, dead center.
The blade sank in nearly a foot. I felt it come out of her back. She stared at it for a second, but didn’t go down. I blinked. She stood there, dagger up, unmoving. Then I whipped the sword out of the wound. Blood spurted out behind it, coating my back and legs in red as I spun. Then the tip of my sword cut across the woman’s throat, splattering more blood across the cavern.
She crumpled in an unmoving heap as exhaustion set in.
Stamina: 15/170, Mana: 107/200
I’d won. I’d beaten the archer. One down, three to go. For a moment—one crucial moment—I let myself relax, let my fatigue get the better of me.
Then the blinded Ice Troll’s claws shredded my back.
