Chapter 153: No Fun (2)

Despite the pout, Jaxir’s grin returned before the tanks had taken another two steps. Figuring out the individual weaknesses of a dozen strangers sounded exhausting, especially when he didn’t need to be clever about every problem placed in front of him.

Sometimes brute force deserved a fair chance too.

The first tank raised his shield as Jaxir moved, expecting another Cast, only for something cold and black to spill from the man’s own shadow instead. Haunt settled over him like a second outline, faint distortions clinging to his armor as Jaxir slipped sideways from an incoming arrow and turned his staff toward the next tank.

A second Haunt took hold before the first man understood what had happened.

"He’s using L2 Abilities!" someone shouted from behind the shield line, panic carrying clearly over the marsh.

Jaxir twisted beneath another arrow, planted a third Haunt, then ducked behind one tank’s shield angle long enough to attach a fourth before skipping backward again.

The spell cost far less than it had any right to now, with Attune and his Reflection Staff working together to make something that once would’ve emptied him frighteningly affordable.

"Let him!" another player yelled. "If he keeps throwing L2s around like that, he’ll burn through his mana!"

Jaxir heard that and nearly laughed.

He kept moving instead, weaving between arrows while one tank after another gained the same faint distortion around their bodies. By the time Haunt settled over the last member of the front line, all of them had tightened their formation and lowered themselves behind their shields, clearly expecting some enormous attack to follow.

The ranged players behind them began firing again, using the wall as cover while trying to pin Jaxir into one position.

"Magic Classes, call it the second you can cast!" someone shouted. "Once the suppression drops, his mana’s running low!"

’Oh?’

Jaxir hadn’t known that.

He felt the pressure his mana exerted over the surrounding Magic Class players, then glanced inward at his own reserves and found the connection almost immediately once he knew to look for it.

The suppression wasn’t some separate Grand Archmage ability at all. It was the weight of his comprehension expressing itself through the mana he controlled, which meant the effect naturally weakened as the amount of mana available to him fell.

’Useful information.’

Jaxir spun the Reflection Staff once through his palm as an arrow crossed his chest, then planted his feet and began to Channel. Silver-blue mana gathered at the end of the staff, compressing until the light became dense enough to tint the marsh around him.

One of the tanks braced behind his shield.

BANG.

The Cast ripped across the clearing and struck the center of the shield hard enough to drive the tank backward through the mud.

[-463]

The shield survived, and so did its owner, though both arms dropped several inches while his HP bar plunged. Tanks gained 20 HP with every Level and began with far more health than Jaxir ever had, meaning a Level 15 Tank already carried at least 460 HP before equipment entered the equation. Add a proper Rare shield worth easily over 500 more HP in effective protection, and they could take punishment that would’ve erased most Magic Classes several times over.

Jaxir still laughed.

"Not quite enough." He shifted away from another volley, spun the staff back into line and started feeding mana through Channel again. "Let’s try that again."

The second tank saw what was coming and planted both feet, his Rare shield glowing as defensive mana spread across its face. Jaxir held the Cast longer this time, feeling the silver-blue tendrils spreading from it before release and reading the changing pressure across the shield. Then he adjusted the Cast’s shape and fired.

BOOM.

The shield buckled inward.

[-617]

The tank crashed onto one knee and coughed blood into the mud, half his HP vanishing in a single strike despite everything he had stacked in front of it. Haunt still clung to him, and whatever strain the Cast had introduced didn’t disappear when the impact ended. Jaxir could feel the Hex continuing to burrow into at what had been damaged.

His laughter carried over the marsh.

The sound changed the mood more effectively than the damage numbers did. The tanks had advanced expecting to grind down a mage with numbers and protection, yet Jaxir kept slipping beyond their attacks while hitting them with casual Channeled Casts with enough force to drive them to their knees. Worse yet, he seemed to be enjoying himself more every time they managed to make things difficult.

Jaxir moved again, letting three arrows pass behind him before charging another Cast on the run. He released earlier this time, striking the first tank he had hit directly across the chest as the man tried to recover his stance. Haunt twisted through the damage already there, and the tank’s HP finally hit bottom.

[-284]

―

[You have killed player "Demer Holt"]

―

+1128 Experience

+382 silver

+74 copper

―

The man scattered into motes of light, leaving a battered Rare shield, breastplate and several smaller pieces of equipment in the mud. Jaxir’s eyes flickered over the loot for half a second before returning to the remaining line. Plenty of time for shopping later.

Another tank fell shortly after.

[-341]

―

[You have killed player "Sela Orrin"]

―

+2977 Experience

+417 silver

+31 copper

―

Her shield hit the ground before the rest of her equipment followed, and that was enough to break the discipline of the front line. One tank backed away from the next charged Cast instead of bracing, exposing the Power Path melee player hiding behind him. Jaxir curved the shot at the last instant and caught the tank across his unprotected side.

[Critical Hit!]

[-692]

The man folded around the impact and Haunt finished what little resistance remained.

―

[You have killed player "Venn Marrow"]

―

+3,117 Experience

+506 silver

+18 copper

―

"He’s killing the tanks!" someone screamed.

"Then fucking rush him!"

The remaining melee players started moving around the crumbling formation, but Jaxir kept rotating through them, never standing where the arrows expected him to be. Every few seconds another charged Cast cracked across the marsh, another shield broke, and another Haunt-marked tank stumbled far enough out of formation for Jaxir to finish the job. Equipment began littering the wet ground around them.

Then fire bloomed behind the line.

Jaxir’s eyes shifted toward it just as a Magic Class player stared at the fireball hovering over his hand with something close to religious relief.

"I CAN USE MY MANA AGAIN!"

The fireball came screaming toward Jaxir.

Farther back, Ilyan looked toward Orsa and Bex at the exact same moment. Orsa lowered the mace from her shoulder, Bex shifted his grip behind the broad face of his shield, and Ilyan finally drew his bowstring all the way to his cheek.

It was time to move.