The Legend of William Oh

Chapter 51: Relic Theft



William Oh’s face is so hard that the craftsmen of Benguli used it to stamp marble blanks, which they meticulously scaled down for their currency.

  • Kevin Hammond, level 15 scout

…Why am I standing on a hydra? Will thought as the ground rose up beneath him in the middle of his power-pose, six massive necks rearing up around him, revealing half-rotten frilled draconic heads that emerged from the swamp, dripping with muck.

Then things got rough, fast.

Mark Wyrd launched himself up at Will, shooting through the air by virtue of overwhelming Strength.

Wonder if he’s got similar stat growth? Will thought, triggering Gravity Charge and targeting his Phantom Hand, causing himself to slide backwards out of the way of a feral punch.

If there was one thing Will could be confident of, it was that so much of Mark Wyrd’s build was dedicated to optimizing Thorns that it was unlikely he had any spare Abilities dedicated to movement or attack.

So, despite being twice the level…he wasn’t as fast as Will.

On the other hand, I can’t actually hit him, Will thought, weaving around the six fungus-dotted necks the size of massive tree-trucks while an irrationally angry young man chased Will around them for no reason.

Maybe I can..

It took an agonizing fifteen seconds of playing keepaway around the massive necks while all hell broke loose outside their little dance, until Will spotted an opportunity.

Will dodged out of the way just as one of the hut-sized maws came down at him, leading Mark Wyrd directly into the path of the creature’s attack.

Either this will work or I’ll get bisected, Will thought, crossing his fingers.

The entire Hydra jerked as its head slammed down into its back, snatching up Mark Wyrd like a bird with a fish. The lordling was clamped between the hydra’s razor-sharp teeth bigger than Will’s palm.

With an odd tearing sound, The hydra’s stomach burst open as tooth-marks savaged it’s side, caused by Mark Wyrd’s damage reflection.

At least it’s not me.

POOF!

Will watched in horror as the massive cut along the hydra’s side released an explosion of spores, catching the enemy Nuker in the face.

The Nuker went stiff and toppled over backwards, his eyes beginning to fill with Mycelium.

Oh, shit, Will thought, glancing back up at Mark Wyrd, clutched between two rows of teeth.

“Hey, maybe we should find a better-“

Mark Wyrd gave a vicious elbow strike to the hydra’s jaw, shattering the teeth and bone keeping him in place and dropping back down to the hydra’s back, where he rose to his feet, not looking away from Will.

Well, that’s terrifying.

Will was so distracted by the feat that he didn’t react in time as the lordling charged him, landing a good haymaker in Will’s liver.

Will folded around the strike and slammed into one of the many necks creating the bounds of their arena.

Ow, my hand! Son of a-

Will had just enough presence of mind to angle Gravity Charge to slip out of the way of the follow up punch aimed at his face.

“You can fly?” Mark Wyrd demanded, the tiny cuts on his sides closing rapidly.

I’m starting to get his build. Will thought, shaking the pain out of his hand, where it felt like he’d punched his own liver over and over again until it was bloody.

If Will was correct, his dance partner had a Thorns Primary Ability, and a Lifesteal Primary Ability, both of which were incredibly rare, but together? Insane…ly cool.

Mark Wyrd took the actual damage, reflected it, then healed based on the amount of damage he reflected, keeping him in fighting shape while the other guy withered away.

Unlike a traditional Tank, he didn’t have any Taunt or teammate protection abilities, which meant he actually didn’t fill the Tank role, despite having a stat block nearly identical to one.

Even the punch he landed on me triggered the Thorns, damaging my hand while also bruising my liver, Will thought, shaking the pain out of his bleeding hand.

His Relics must synergize to drastically boost his Abilities.

There was no way a class would ever give someone anywhere near 100% Thorns and 100% Lifesteal, not without a full suite of Relics dedicated to boosting them.

If Will could steal some of them…

Easiest ones?

Will scanned his opponent’s body until he landed on the circlet around the lordling’s brow with what looked like a drop of blood in the center. The lordling’s rings had spikey motifs, making Will wonder if they faced inward too.

And of course the amulet was rather hefty, with some kind of skull and bones cast in silver.

Will didn’t have much more time to think about it as the lordling pursued the advantage, rushing in to close the distance.

Will flew backwards, keeping pace with the slowpoke.

“Is this your father’s build?” Will asked, running his mouth while he did some thinking. “Because you’re kinda slow, makes me wonder how he’s a Lord.”

“GAH!”

Mark Wyrd pulled a small sphere out of his pocket and threw it at Will.

Will desperately flew sideways, allowing the object to rip through the air past him.

BOOM!

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The sphere exploded against the Hydra’s neck behind Will, causing shrapnel laden with deadly mycelium spores to pepper the side of Will’s body.

Oh, that’s so much worse.

Will’s skin went cold as he felt an itching begin to spread outward from a handful of points of pain on his body, but there was no time for horror, as the Lordling was already in range with another punch.

Damnit. Will turtled up, putting his bad arm in the way as the Phantom Hand swooped in. Will was going to have to take the hit to even the playing field.

This is gonna hurt.

Dimensional Storage

29->26 of 34 Charges remaining.

The Phantom Hand swooped past, landing on Mark Wyrd’s fists and finding themselves unable to pass through. This was something Will already knew through testing. Whatever Tower-magic created a Climber’s Class also warded off intrusion from the Phantom Hand.

But he wasn’t trying to store a chunk of his opponent’s heart or unleash acid in their brain, he was trying to snatch two rings and an Amulet, worn externally.

There was a strange…cobwebby feeling as the Relics were plucked off and stored into his Phantom Hand, if he was stretching some ephemeral bonds between the lordling and his relics before they finally snapped.

Crunch!

The punch got through his guard and caught him in the ribs again, causing Will to tumble to the side and slam up against a hydra neck, barely avoiding getting snatched up by one of the angry-looking zombified heads.

Will felt a pain in his right hand, as the damage feedback from Mark punching him was fed back into his own hand, but it was significantly less than before.

About thirty percent? Before it was somewhere close to 85-100%. Much better.

Mark seemed to not have noticed that he was a few ounces lighter as he pursued the advantage, charging straight toward Will.

Will switched the orientation of Gravity Charge, boosting his jump with gravity, flying straight towards his opponent.

Mark’s eyes widened minutely, but he didn’t bother to block, instead going for a vicious right hook, expecting his Build to do the heavy lifting for his defense.

Will caught the lordling’s face with his knee, putting his whole body weight and all his falling speed into the strike.

CRACK!

Will recoiled as a phantom kneecap broke his nose.

The lordling staggered backwards, clutching his bloody nose in disbelief as it refused to heal.

“Wha-“

Will didn’t want to give him time to realize he’d been robbed, so he whipped out his tomahawk and aimed for Mark Wyrd’s chest.

If Will caught Mark in the heart, Will bet he could drink a potion of Greater Healing in the handful of seconds before he died. The spine might be a bit too much, though.

Instead of getting stabbed in the heart like a good sport, Mark seamlessly went on the defensive, taking wide a stance and blocking Will’s attack with his forearm, driving a palm into Will’s chest, causing his ribs to creak in protest before he went tumbling backwards.

The itching from where the mycelium had planted itself in his side was gradually getting worse.

On the ground, the enemy team’s Nuker was convulsing violently and frothing from the mouth, showing where Will was headed. The group’s healer was attending to him, but there wasn’t much he could do without an operating room.

Their trackers had already run away, leaving the Sniper, the Tanks, the Barrier caster, and the druid/Bear and her…husband/rider?

It seemed as though Loth or June had ordered the rest of the Party to stay low and hidden, allowing the enemy party to take the brunt of the Raid Boss’s ire. It was a perfect decision, tactically, and Will was 100% on board with it, even though it left their Party Leader out in the cold.

Just gotta stay alive for the next couple minutes.

My right side is spotted with mycelium and the worst spot is on my ribs just under my shoulder.

Idea! This is going to hurt!

Will used the Phantom Hand to gently shoot the lordling in the exact same spot that he needed to cauterize the wound and burn out the mycelium.

Mark’s eyes widened as he was kicked violently to the side by the Manhunter effect, the wound drawn through the tracer fire.

Will gasped in pain as the Lordling’s thorns kicked in, causing his skin to catch fire, burning out the deepest invasion of mycelium.

Why thank you, sir, Will thought as he released a Potion of Greater Healing from the Phantom Hand, downing it as he stood.

The skin renewed itself, and a burst of energy flowed through him as he went back on the offens- Oh crap!

Will dove out of the way as one of the hydra heads slammed down right where he’d been standing.

A moment later, another hydra head lunged down, and Will assumed it was going for a bite, but then a roiling mass of fetid brown gas emerged from its gaping mouth, slamming down on the creature’s back and spreading every direction.

Hydra aren’t supposed to have breath attacks! Will thought, barely able to lift himself out of the cloud of fungal spores before they engulfed him.

Apparently this one did, though.

Mark Wyrd shot out of the cloud of spores and caught Will’s ankle, climbing up him until the two were face to face.

“Where are my Relics!?” He demanded, locking both hands around Will’s neck and squeezing. It seemed counter-productive to ask someone a question and then strangle them, but Will couldn’t say anything about it.

Since Will only had the one hand, there was no way he could pry both of Mark’s hands away from his neck, so he didn’t even try.

Instead, Will reached out and plucked the circlet off Mark’s head and tossed it into the distance.

The lordling released his neck and tried to catch it, but Will grabbed the lordling’s hand and drew him back in for a headbutt, the ephemeral horns on his mask making the damage much more significant.

It felt like someone had taken a hammer to Will’s face, but the lordling got an even worse deal, his head snapping back, eyes fluttering as he struggled to retain consciousness.

Four hissing sounds were followed by four meaty thunks as four arrows buried themselves in Mark Wyrd’s body, one for each shoulder and leg.

In the distance, Will could see Reggie keeling over in pain as the rest of his Party burst out of the dense shrubs.

Almost forgot about them.

They rushed forward, engaging the beleaguered enemy Party and the hydra-fungus abomination. Will decided to let them do their work and focus on his job. The job that he was best at – apparently – was dueling Climbers.

Will turned his flight away from the side where Mark’s Party could help him, aiming for the pond on the opposite side of the Hydra’s body.

He rode the lordling’s body into the water, pushing his stupid face under the stupid water.

Will’s lungs began filling up with water almost immediately, but he was able to cough it out, while Mark was busy drowning, stuck under the surface of –

BOOM!

Will was thrown clear of the lordling, nearly impaling himself on some scraggly trees.

“I’ll kill you!” Mark Wyrd shouted, pointing at Will as he drew a wiggly-looking knife out from a sheath at his side. Will felt something ominoussettle over him.

Well, that doesn’t sound good, Will thought, pushing himself to his feet, ready to fight off whatever attack the lordling was about to launch.

Before Will could react, Mark Wyrd drew the knife across his own leg.

A line of pain drew itself across Will’s leg, matching the cut that the lordling had inflicted on himself. the cut that was already healing. Will was forced to drop to his knees as the muscle refused to support him any longer.

Right. Secondary Abilities. Damnit.

Gravity Charge.

26/34 Charges remaining.

Will leapt up with his good leg and began falling towards his enemy, winding up for a good strike with his tomahawk.

The lordling moved the knife to his other hand and sliced his right palm.

Will’s right hand burst into pain, forcing him to drop the tomahawk.

“You’re just a pathetic-“

Will used Phantom Hand to shoot his enemy straight on in the chest.

Mark Wyrd’s eyes widened as he was drawn straight towards Will, who was already approaching at terminal velocity.

Will slammed horns-first into Mark Wyrd’s face at an unholy speed, delivering a headbutt the gods themselves would be envious of.

Will’s head jerked back, and he was assaulted by a migraine that threatened to shatter his very soul, but he was able to retain his consciousness thanks to Gravity Charge reinforcing his skull, brain, and spine.

The same could not be said of the living voodoo doll, who crumpled bonelessly to the ground.

Will lifted up his mask and spat out some blood on his opponent’s face.

My teeth feel loose.

ROOOOAR!

Oh right, the Hydra, Will thought, his mind a bit foggy from the multiple self-inflicted blows to the head.

He groggily turned to find his Party battling the hydra. Travis was keeping the thing’s attention while June, Loth, and Alicia whittled it down.

Mason was hanging back and using his Conflagrations sparingly, only vaporizing parts that had been cut off the raid boss before they rooted or regrew.

Good on you guys. Will thought, stumbling to the nearest tree and slumping down against it.

I’m just gonna take a nap. Wake me when you’re done with the raid boss.

Will’s eyes drifted closed, idly itching at the mycelium growing from his shoulder.


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