If there was one thing that Lugh’s bombastic final charge had done, it was to create an opening for which Ari to escape. In the moment that all the bronze guards had their attentions focused solely on stabbing him to death, the catgirl made her escape, slipping into the spaces between buildings as swiftly as a sudden breeze. Moments later, she could hear bronze against stone all around, but by then, she had already made good her disappearance. For a battle, a troupe of twelve bronze guards would have made a mess of her, but for a search? The underground city was large, and their numbers, superhumanly fast as they were, were small. It was with only the occasional heart attack induced by a shadow flying overhead that Ari picked her way through the more shaded areas of the city, her Resources regenerating until she was maxed out once more, as healthy and as fit as when she first arrived.

So gradually, she left the chaos and the site of Lugh’s demise behind, forging onwards to the palace on the far side of the city. The walls were the same size as before, and no new guards were lined up nearby, the chaos that was caused by Ari’s home invasion having affected nothing in these surroundings. Once again, two inanimate statues stood at either side of the gate leading to the palace’s inner courtyards, their polearms glimmering bright in the star-studded stalactites’ cold light.  Rings hung from the center of the gate at Ari’s eye height, and the statues did not move even as she approached. Up close, the gate and the walls were even more daunting than before. Though Ari had plenty of ways to scale a five meter height, her real life common sense still rebelled against the notion of having superhuman capabilities.

It was [i]tall[/i], and whatever was immediately on the other side could not be seen until she scrambled over it.

As she grasped the rings to pull open the gate, however, a voice sounded to her left.

[b]“Of your trespass, and your resistance, one has observed thusly.”[/b]

Another voice, as firm as the first, sounded to her right.

[b]“Of your inadequacies, and your audacity, one has acknowledged thusly.”[/b]

The polearms fell, stopping inches from Ari’s wrists to form a criss-cross pattern, as the once-inanimate guards turned their blazing gaze onto the explorer. Together, their voices rang out.

[b]“Of the Tomb of the Sunblessed Emperor, you seek to tread. Will your motives be drawn through your mouth, or your skull?”[/b]
[sub][@GreenGoat][/sub][hr]
Moving at speeds greater than his own, Amulak’s chains whipped outwards in a frenzy towards the leech-mouthed Gakis. Though mere tendrils of mana at first, they rapidly gained substance as they neared, until they took the shape of iron chains. One wrapped around a ghost’s waist, slamming it into the ceiling. Another swung around a monster’s upper arm, then hurled into Patches’s blender. A third punched into the leech-mouth of the starving creature, while a fourth practically mummified the creature it bound. But the fifth only managed to snag the Gaki by the ankle, and before the monster could be slammed into a wall or bound more securely, the monster bent over and tore off its own foot with its jaws. It was a ghost, after all. Even without feet, it could fly.

And with a screeching cry, it slammed its emaciated body against Amulak’s, the force enough to stagger, but not knock the mage back. Nails dug onto the plates of his armor to secure its place, while the leech-mouth lunged forward to tear at the mage’s face. It was a nightmarish experience, even with Amulak’s pain sensitivity set as long as it was. Rows of rotten teeth scraped over his flesh with the sensation of human nails scratching him, and though only a meager [b]27 points of damage[/b] was dealt to him, the sensation was fucking disgusting, and so was the sniggering laughter of the Gaki.

A laughter that was cut short moments later when the Seeker Chain that missed had returned, wrapping around its throat and pulling it off Amulak.

But the situation really was growing dire. The amount of DPS that Patches and Amulak were dealing wasn’t enough to quickly cull the swarm of monsters, and meanwhile, they were both burning their Resources at a quickening pace. No healer present meant any loss of HP they incurred was for all purposes permanent, while the unnatural form of the ghosts meant that even when cleaved in half by a pulsating cleaver or torn to bits by magical forces, they were still not fully destroyed. Even now, the ones that Amulak had bound were struggling to make their own escape, slowing tearing their bodies apart to get a taste of the mage’s flesh and blood.

[b]“Amulak!”[/b] Patches shouted through the deluge of arcane power. [b]“Gonna make an opening! Just bring mine with you; I’ll find you after!”[/b] Another Gaki rode the arcane waves, gnarled fingers catching the bloodied warrior on the head. [b]“Fuck, get ready!”[/b]

Without waiting for a response, he drew an iron spike from the folds of his jacket and slammed it into his temple. It slid in effortlessly, Patches’s bright blue eyes clouding over with red as the spike pierced through flesh, bone, and then into the brain. He stalled, for just a moment, and the Gaki descended upon him, teeth eagerly digging into his pale flesh.

Pale flesh that expanded rather being torn away.

The cleaver-wielding warrior doubled in bulk, the stitches over his body more prominent than ever as he let out the guttural roar of a creation made only after trespassing upon a domain that science ought never to have done so. With one arm, he cut a swathe through the forces, four ghosts dismembered at once. With his other arm, he slammed the ground itself, a shockwave so tremendous as to blow them all back. But Amulak, a member of his own party, was not affected. Throughout the titan’s frenzied rampage, only he could pass through unscathed.

There was certainly a way for him to run back now, to pursue another path. But, considering Patches’s sudden power-up, maybe it was possible too, for them to simply clean house together?
[sub][@Psyker Landshark][/sub][hr]
[b]“Chief, it’s not working!” “Oh shit!” “Keep at it, don’t stop!” “No, look!” “How’s he doing that?!” “Ahhh, no!” “Damnit!” “Abort, abort!” “Grab everything; we’re gliding out!” “My mom, where’s my mom?” “Woman and children first!” “Gogogo!” “Ahhhh!”[/b]

More tiny needles stuck themselves into Klein’s skin, but the volleys were erratic now, disorganized, and soon, right as he began to start uprooting the tree, all the voices disappeared. There was only a shimmering haze of light exuding from behind the tree, and by the time the mountain man uprooted the entire tree, it had grown totally silent.

Was that for better or worse?

Regardless, Klein had no further difficulty hoisting it on his back. Though it was a bit cumbersome to maneuver through the denser sections of the Thunderstruck Grove, physically he was fine. The passives afforded to him gave him more than enough tenacity to carry a whole tree with him out of the forest, after all, and as the mist curled away from him to reveal the bright blue beauty of Gala’s sky, all he had to deal with was the occasional inquiry or snicker from a passing human. Few seemed to appreciate his claims about this being a demonic tree, and his plans of planting it into a goblin’s burrow drew a mixture of disbelief and mirth.

Still, none of the guards within Nyu-Taro had stopped him from entering or exiting, accustomed as they were to the shenanigans of Immortals. So long as he wasn’t actively harming the Riens of the city-state, they wouldn’t raise a hand, it appeared. Or maybe it was simply because no one wanted to approach the tree-hugging beefcake.

Past the eastern gate, the familiar sight of the Goldspun Fields stretched once more, as well as the sight of Immortals running around, eager to do battle with the murderous goblin raid parties that wandered the expanse. They had done quite a number on him during his grinding session with the others as well, enough so that if it weren’t for his party and his Nuclei’s ability, Klein would’ve been dead more than just a couple times. He had a weapon now though, and a decent boost in his stats to boot; he should be fine now, to face a goblin party by himself?

The whistling of arrows through the air told him that such thoughts would be put to the test. From the tall brush, three Goblin archers, one of who wore a dyed headdress signaling him as the raid leader, fired at him from upon their malnourished mutts. With such shoddy weaponry, only two of the four arrows actually struck, but the pain that accompanied them, as well as the HP lost, reminded Klein that, unfortunately, he wasn’t wholly invincible.

[b]39 HP[/b], after all, was lost in that initial volley. 
[sub][@Shovel][/sub]