Was it because giants felt emotions more strongly? Or was that simply the strength of his love for his dearly departed wife, Reyi?
The vision ended as abruptly as it had begun. Vir found himself in free fall, back in the underground tunnel, fighting the Narapazu. His body reacted before his mind did, driving his katar into the Narapazu’s back, gouging a line into it as he fell.
Finally, he came to a stop, right at the Narapazu’s waist. His fall had undone all the progress he’d made.
But that wasn’t what bothered him the most. A torrent of thoughts flooded his mind—the foremost of which being that this memory fragment hadn’t imparted any special powers. With each prior memory, he’d gained something. First, Prana Vision, then the chakram arts from Ekanai, and finally Dance of the Shadow Demon from Shardul.
Though he’d worked to earn those abilities, Vir somehow sensed this time was different. Without that blue tattoo, there was simply no way he could use Balancer of Scales. The knowledge buried in Narak’s memory made that abundantly clear.
There must be something! Something he could use in this situation.
When Vir stared up at the massive beast’s back, he noticed something. It wasn’t anything he could put into words—more like a hunch. It bothered him that he couldn’t place it, like an itch he couldn’t scratch.
Then, when the Narapazu moved, it finally clicked. Narak had shown him how giants move.
Not through words, but by allowing Vir to live through his memory. Unlike Shardul and Ekanai, Narak hadn’t spoken to Vir in the memory—hadn’t even acknowledged his existence. Perhaps it was due to the passage of time and the eroding of his memories. Perhaps it was all Narak could impart.
It wasn’t nearly as useful as his previous memories. Vir would not gain any obvious power from this, but perhaps that was okay. He felt like he’d gained something else from it. Something precious.
And it wasn’t all useless for his current predicament, either.
Suddenly, Vir understood. Large beasts like the Narapazu couldn’t move as quickly as smaller creatures. Doubly so for such a confined space. Their every move was telegraphed—they couldn’t move subtly or deftly, and the larger the beast, the truer that was.
To a giant, smaller creatures like humans appeared to move excessively fast. The same was true when he gazed at small rodents.
But what was it like for the rodent? Humans must seem ungainly and slow. And so it was for the Narapazu. Vir couldn’t believe he never noticed it before.
It’s as if it’s announcing its every move!
And so, when the Narapazu arched its back and raised its arm to strike at Tia and her party, Vir was ready for it.
He High Jumped from his position at the Narapazu’s waist, landing steadily upon its shoulders, rejoining his furry friend.
Awoo!
“Nice work, boy! Now let’s end this!”
Woof woof!
Truthfully, Vir hadn’t known whether he could channel ground prana through another living being. Vir suspected it worked so well thanks to the Ash prana that flowed within the Narapazu’s veins. If it were any other affinity, Vir doubted he’d have been able to pull it off.
As an added benefit, pulling Ash prana through its body seemed to upset the balance of prana within the Narapazu, causing it to stumble.
Vir might have forced the beast to abort its attack, but he didn’t have long; every second counted.
Leaping along its shoulder, he closed the distance to the elephant-beast’s neck. Its arteries glowed brightly to Prana Vision. Leaping again, Vir drew his prana-coated katar across its jugular, severing it.
Then he turned around and hit the other one.
In conjunction, Tia and Vason grabbed the noose the Narapazu discarded earlier, and were currently running around, binding the beast with its own weapon.
Their efforts proved fruitful—against the combined assault, the Narapazu fell to its knees. It was dead, it just didn’t know it yet.
But that wasn’t enough for a certain scorned mejai.
“Die, you abomination!” Haymi croaked as she lay on her back, weakly stretching out her arm. In her hand was a Lightning orb. That wasn’t what surprised Vir. What surprised him was the size.
That’s a B Grade spell!
Haymi couldn’t charge B Grades in the field, which meant it was precharged. She must have been saving it for maximum impact, but she’d been blindsided before she could use it.
And now, she had every reason to.
The thunderclap of the precharged B Grade Lightning Burst was so loud, it made Vir’s ears ring. The blindingly bright light seared his eyes, forcing him to look away. With only a Lesser Lightning Affinity, Haymi ought to have been incapable of charging such an orb. She must have paid an enormous sum for a mejai to precharge that orb, Vir thought.
Lightning attacks behaved differently from those of the Fire Affinity. While Fireballs left scorch marks and soot, Lightning magic left comparatively little in the way of aftermath.
When Vir’s vision returned, the Narapazu’s eyes had simply rolled into the back of its head. It swayed heavily before finally crashing to the ground.
Vir and Neel jumped onto the Narapazu’s enormous trunk as it fell, and rode it down like a slide, flipping in midair, then landing lightly before Tia and her party.
Tia could only stare at Vir, her mouth agape.
“Who are you?”
19PARTY TIME
Vir stood blankly in front of Tia as a torrent of emotions overwhelmed him.
“Are… you alright?” Tia asked, her expression tinged with concern as she looked him over. “Are you hurt?”
Wiping away the tears that flowed down his cheeks, he shook his head and turned away. More out of concern for his face paint than embarrassment. Luckily, he’d learned a few tricks to make the paint slightly more waterproof. It didn’t come off nearly as easily as it used to.
But why am I even crying?
These weren’t his tears, but Narak’s. The giant whose memory he’d seen. His prior incarnation. Unlike with Shardul or Ekanai’s memories, Narak’s had been far less coherent. Vir had to dig deep to gain anything of value from the memory at all. Rather, he mostly felt like he’d been left with the heavy burden of grief.
“Reyi,” he whispered. Narak’s wife had passed centuries ago. Perhaps even millennia. And yet, the pangs of guilt and regret coursed through him as if it were just yesterday. To grieve for someone long dead… for someone he’d never even met. It felt ridiculous, and yet there was undeniably a connection there.
Vir took a deep breath and cleared his thoughts. The Narapazu’s lair was no place for such feelings.
“Let’s go.”
The journey back up was far more arduous than the way down. Not only because Tia and her party had to use the lift—which was always in high demand—but unlike on the way in, they were all spent.
The wait for the lift was agonizingly long. After all, few mercenaries descended to the lowest level. Unfortunately, Haymi’s condition went from bad to worse. She’d been teetering on the edge of consciousness, but her pulse was now rapidly fading.
“Let me take her back,” Vir said. “I don’t need the lift to get back.”