Skye is the Limit by Phenomenal Pen (detective books to read TXT) 📗

so shall she lay claim to what is owed.

We shall be swift harbingers of Her retribution!

Enveloped by a bright glow, Fairy soared towards the stalactites. She was miniscule compared to her opponent but her spell packed a punch because the hardened lava under the Orc Mother’s entomo-mechanical legs sank as though she had instantly gained tons of extra weight. The Count, who was still slumped on the ice just a dozen meters away, knew better: the earth was coming alive and it was about to swallow the Orc Mother whole. Fairy had activated a type of gravity attack.

The Orc Mother reached vainly for purchase before attempting to jump out of the instant quick sand and the waiting magma underneath. Fairy hovered just above the multifaceted head like a diver tensing on a springboard. Next, the team’s Nightcrawler dove and actually produced a small muffled sonic boom. Most of the stalactites mirrored her action, falling like so many pieces of broken glass towards the flailing Orc Mother.    

Fairy deftly avoided the Orc Mother’s swinging arms and, without slowing down, slammed against the giant’s chest. There was a sound like a bell’s bong followed by the crash of raining stalactites. The Dreamwalkers protected their ears from the noise but they saw the Orc Mother’s flesh ripple from the point of impact. Rather poignantly, she took the pose of a tyrant in her death throes as boiling magma splashed upwards from the gaping earth.

She sank with a final earsplitting cry. All her children stopped whatever they were doing – wrestling Bear Tooth to the ground, encircling Man-At-Arms or grabbing at Nethril’s ankles – and watched horrified as their matriarch disappeared.

Fairy hovered gazing down the open pit of magma. She was still doing her slow, tired flaps. Her tiny figure turned towards the Dreamwalkers when all the commotion had settled and, to the Dreamwalkers scattered below, she looked no less than a guardian angel.

“Hiya, guys,” she greeted over the radio, her voice betraying her low health. “I’m so sorry.”

All of a sudden, a magma-covered, enormous hand thrust upwards from the pit and snatched Fairy. The whole thing happened so fast and so unexpected it was like a cadaveric spasm. It seemed as though the Orc Mother was determined to take anyone with her to the afterlife. Her hand then sank like a listing ship.

“Fairy! NOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Bear Tooth screamed. Because of his ursine throat, the cry ended up a roar.

A great hush fell over the Fiery Caverns.

Then, the newly orphaned Orcs turned back to the Dreamwalkers with murderous hate.

****

“Everyone, gather round Bear Tooth!” the Count ordered. His front-row view of Fairy’s sacrifice had roused him back into action. He picked up his sword. He had an idea.

As the Orcs sensed the shift in his presence, in an extremely dream-like fashion, they rushed to converge around him.

Water plus magma equals increased explosivity, he remembered from Geo class. He also knew his sword had a kind of water elemental charm.

This is a terrible plan, he thought to himself. He intended to throw his sword all the way to the frozen mineral water falls at the back of the Ice Throne, which was approximately sixty feet away. This is not a spear. This is a two-kilogram broadsword. And you’re not an Olympic javelin-thrower.    

Another part of him argued: But this is not the real world either. That’s why this plan is going to work. To quote Mage (may he rest in peace), it’s the thought that counts.   

As the Orcs raced to tackle him, the Count took a deep breath, cleared his mind and walked back for a running approach. He lifted the sword up above his shoulder. He held it with the flat of the blade resting on the palm of his hand and his fingers behind the cross guard. He ran several steps forward (the nearest Orcs bearing down on him from three directions) and released.

Unconsciously, he let out an earsplitting roar that was almost leonine, suggestive of his Anima crest. 

The Count watched the sword sail in the air. It was spinning on a lengthwise axis and looked quite stable. More amazingly, it was flying with great velocity, which said a lot about his throwing arm. The Count was reminded of the superhero film trope I-guess-I-don’t-know-my-own-strength. This was his last thought before the first Orcs slammed against him. 

The projectile hit its target, splitting some icicles and burying itself in the wall of ice with an audible twang. Nothing happened for a couple of heartbeats but then, the frozen wall turned into a raging waterfall.

“Bear Tooth!” the Count screamed. “Hamster ball!”

The Count threw a whole mob of Orc tacklers off him, not realizing how effortlessly he did it, and began running towards Bear Tooth. Man-At-Arms was already next to the berserker while still spraying bucketfuls of Anima bullets to keep the hordes at bay.

As the rushing water reached the first magma opening, great explosions shook the Fiery Caverns all the way to the surface of Erebus above. The first blast obliterated the two Orc princesses and the Nidhoggrs flanking the foot of the Ice Throne.