ELDRITCH NIGHT (Rough Draft)

Chapter 20: Song of Battle

With every swing of my blade I would feel the eldritch energy respond, both in myself and in those around me. Each death brought a combination of blood and thick streams of eldritch energy mixed together with the smell of sweat and the sound of gurgling death rattles. The beasts seemed to be infused with the energy. I could see its shape as it spread and flowed throughout the bodies of my foes. It took on a pattern vaguely reminiscent of a circulatory system – thick streams endlessly splitting into smaller and smaller capillaries that reached and nourished every cell.

As the beasts died the energy would shoot forth into the air thickening and adding movement to the dense energy in which the battlefield was awash. I could reach out and manipulate this energy, but only after it was released into the air. I could feel the energy in each beast, even get a sense of its shape and flavor, but I couldn't grasp it. When I tried it was like attempting to catch air between my fingers, flowing and immaterial. Each creature had its own unique 'signature,' I believed with time I could learn to tell individuals apart by the unique shape, feel, and color of the eldritch energy that flowed through their veins.

I had never had this kind of sensitivity to the eldritch energy before, but since I had leapt into the fray I had gained a greater understanding and sensitivity. Perhaps my skills were improving, or my own understanding had increased. It was likely that I would never again be able to tell the difference. The abilities granted by the system were too much a part of me to determine where 'skill' ended and raw human talent began.

I was still only a few meters from the barricade, desperately trying to stop anything that tried to get close. So far, I had been successful in killing everything within range of my blade, and yet many simply swarmed around me or jumped over me too fast or too high for me to react. I could detect the sound of battle to my right, and gunfire coming from behind me. As long as they fought, I would stand beside them. It was a vaguely heroic thought that I quickly pushed down, focusing again on my own actions.

In my left hand I held the short sword granted to me by Sebbit, from what felt like a lifetime ago. A shifting shadow like blade had been built atop the sword from countless layers of eldritch energy. Each foe I killed would strengthen the phantom blade, as if it were being nourished and sharpened through battle.

In my right hand I carried a shield nearly as tall as I was, but weightless and appearing to be made of a dark and translucent smoke. I used it as a weapon to bash at my foes or to catch and break claws and talons. Despite this, countless blows made it through my untrained defense. For each attack I blocked as many as three would make it through, a stinger to the stomach, slashes across my chest or the pounding of fists upon my back.

My arcane shield still stopped these attacks, though I was down to less than ten percent of my mana. I could also feel my blows slowing and landing with less force as my stamina was gradually depleted. I retreated towards the barricade, slashing out wildly around me to keep my enemies at bay. For a moment I had let myself get carried too far forward, and yet in that instant of mindless rage I had gained a deeper understanding.

My connection to the eldritch energy was beginning to wane, but the brief experience had given me a greater idea of just how interconnected the system and the eldritch lifeforms were. I could feel the energy in my own body, not like a series of capillaries but as a sphere of densely packed runes and shapes that defined my skills and feats. It was too tightly packed to make out any details, but I couldn't shake the feeling that this ball of energy was the source of my current power.

This insight didn't help to strengthen my weakening arms or to replenish my nearly depleted mana. As my back reached the barricade I planted my feet and hid behind my shield, swinging my sword wildly at anything that came too close. In front of me stretched hundreds of foes each waiting eagerly to take the place of those I slew.