Support my main contracted novel and winner of Writing Prompts #26 - The Legendary Mage!
Desolate Mage: A Legend Reborn!
https://www.webnovel.com/book/12013957905760805/Desolate-Mage%3A-A-Legend-Reborn!
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If she were smarter, it wouldn't have taken a life threatening encounter to trigger the idea of using her self-created skill. She would have integrated it (as well as her footwork and own unique style of movements) days ago, since she had used it to penetrate Stefan's highly resistant armour.
If it worked against the divine armour (albeit weakened by several orders of magnitude), it should definitely have been effective against others as well...
Though her Unique Skill: Handshake wouldn't have been useful against Reeve; since she couldn't land a clean hit anyway. And she realised she couldn't have used it either... Humans would pop like watermelons from the intense tremors...
That's what she called her skill - Handshake. Forcefully vibrating her muscles and transmitting it through her hands to shake up the target. Hence, Handshake. It was a pretty good name... Or at least she thought so. Simple and clear. Little did she know that every historian and warrior would outright reject that ridiculous name, and call it the First Palm: Disruption instead.
The stalker backed away for the first time so far, allowing Sam some much needed respite. Despite not using mana, Handshake placed immense stress on her entire body; as the vibrations were generated from her footing up through her waist and to her hands.
It released a low growl. Then it crouched down low. Sam felt uneasy, her danger senses tingling.
Then it roared aggressively and pounced at her.
?
But why did it seem to not be moving any closer...?
To Sam's horror, the creature was facing her, but running backwards - towards Reeve.
"No!" Already half a second slow, she could only repeat her earlier move of extreme compression of her leg bones and muscles to intercept the creature.
She shot forth, quickly closing the distance and collided with the creature, sticking to its chest as they rolled on the ground, tangled up together.
To her horror, the stalkers maw widened in a smile, as if a tasty fly had fallen into its trap. Then it chomped down on her shoulder.
Pierced by the inch long razor teeth with her flesh and blood corroded by the acid spit, Sam screamed in pain and rained blows on the stalkers neck.
Again and again she smashed her fists, palms and chops into its head and neck, while the creature shook its head to widen and deepen the wound. She managed to breach its armour and mash up the inner flesh and muscles with her attacks - but she was running out of breath and dizzy from blood loss.
(Is this as far as I can go...?) She thought, even as her hands did not rest.
Then she realised that their tangled up bodies rolling around on the dirt ground were moving closer and closer to Reeve.
(Reeve... Well, even if I die, I'll make sure you're safe...)
She gasped as she saw him stirring and raise his head. Then raise his hand and prepare to throw his sword over.
"No!!!" She cried out in anguish, as the stalker decisively released her mangled shoulder from its jaws and pointed its claws at Reeve. The longest middle claw began to rotate, and with a disgusting slushing sound, the glossy claw fired at Reeve and embedded itself into the centre of his chest.
Reeve collapsed at a sickly angle, sword clattering down at his side and began to dissipate - a bad sign.
"!!!" Sam opened her mouth in silent anguish. Her body released eerie cracking sounds as she began to shrink - back down to her former 150cm size. Then in the blink of an eye, she vanished - then burst through the stalkers chest and out of its back. Her body seemed to blur as she induced intense vibrations throughout her whole body, causing her skin and blood vessels to rupture.
Now covered entirely in her own blood and the creatures acidic blood, the inhuman pain nearly knocked her out - it was only the rage and adrenaline that kept her from passing out. She landed behind the now kneeling monster and pivoted to release a powerful chop that cleaved through the base of its neck until her palm exited near its tailbone.
Where her chop split it in half, the muscles, blood vessels and armour at the edge of the wound began to hemmorhage and disintegrate, and the monster fell, this time for good.
Her body reverted to her normal tall form with sickening cracks and pops, and she watched it for a second or two, then, satisfied that it would not be able to regenerate, she collapsed with one thought in mind.
(Reeve... Live.)
* * * * *
Near the temple area, at the very edge of the commercial district stood a plain 3 story building. It was made of red-brown bricks and was solid and well built, despite being simple and unadorned.
The lower floor had an entrance wide enough for a small wagon to pass through, where a set of plain double hardwood doors stood. Right now, the door was open, and one could see 2 men standing just inside the doors, ready to help carry the injured, or to deny entry to troublemakers.
Further in, 3 people were seated behind a long wooden counter, above which a sign with the words "registration" hung.
On the 2nd floor, there were 2 long passageways with numerous rooms on either side. One of the rooms had the door open, where a short, balding old man stood beside a big bed. The bed looked very big, especially because the room was cramped despite having nothing else but one more chair inside.
On the bed lay a person wrapped from neck to toe in bandages, which from the pungent smell were seeped into low to lower mid-grade ointments and herbs. The person was beginning to stir for the first time since the disaster last Monday which left 1 student dead, 4 injured and 1 teacher unaccounted for.
The physicians and priests had done all they could, and sighed, regretting that they could not do anything more - not without top-grade healing materials. And even if they had the resources, they would need someone who knew how to utilise them for healing.
With all those conditions met, it was still only enough to salvage the person's life, with no hope of advancing any further in cultivation.
Sam had awoken earlier in the morning, startling the nurse who nearly dropped her medicinal pastes. Sam could only weakly croak for water, before her consciousness drifted away again. She did feel wetness on her lips and in her throat though, so the nurse remembered her water.
Now Principal Snow was here to wait for her to wake up - as he felt responsible for calling Mikael away during the critical moments of the spar. The remains of the enhanced nightmare stalker were cleaned up - though they could not find traces of how the level 8 bio-undead managed to materialise in the middle of the defence formations.
Mikael had insisted to investigate Nadal's background, and even volunteered to lead the inquiry himself. But Principal Snow could only stay silent - Nadal's backing wasn't something their little town and academy could take on. Even if the victims were great talents, and even if the mayor's son was among the fallen...
The balding man sighed, adjusting his brown overcoat over his voluminous white tunic. He twirled his monocle in his right hand between his index and middle fingers. He rubbed his temples, wondering what to do with the Baron's proposition... Without Reeve and Sam, there was only Joe's son, Bob. But he doubted the Baron would choose the boy.
Coughing, Sam Sat up slightly in her bed and opened her eyes a crack. She craned her stiff neck to look for water and grunted at the pain landing through her shoulder. She forgot - she was still wrapped up in the physician's offices.
"Here, have a drink." Principal Snow held the cup to her lips, then was surprised as she downed the entire cup in quick gulps. Then she continued coughing, calming down only after a good 10 seconds.
"Feeling better...? It's a miracle you survived. And a miracle you be recovered so well."
She looked at him without expression, then gasped when she remembered the most important question.
"Reeve... He..." Sam didn't know how to continue, as she choked up and the words couldn't leave her mouth - because she saw Principal Snow's face fall and grief mar his face.
He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Then he looked down at the floor, as if the words were too heavy to be spoken. He took a deep breath, looked up and said to her, "I'm sorry... He - he didn't make it..."
Two streams of tears flowed down Sam's cheeks as she lay her head back onto the pillow and closed her eyes.
Taken aback at the girl's grief, Principal Snow tried to speak when a nurse burst into the room.
"Principal, you'll want to come upstairs. Reeve woke up."
The Principal gave Sam an embarrassed smile; sheepish that his prank/ joke was seen through so quickly.
If Sam weren't wrapped up and crippled, Principal or not, she was angry enough to punch his teeth out. She settled for throwing her cup at his shiny head, smiling when she saw the water dripping down his face and a red bump rising.