ELDRITCH NIGHT (Rough Draft)

Chapter 43: Kiting with Behemoths

I only had the smallest amount of eldritch energy built up within my body. If I had compressed it fully, it might have been no larger than an egg. Despite that, the energy was spread throughout my body in an almost universally distributed web of thin, interwoven channels. Creating this delicate structure had taken days of intense effort and concentration, and yet if I failed my plan threatened to destroy all that work in a moment.

I focused on drawing the energy downward into my left leg, but the process would take time. As I worked I continued to run forward in a mad dash, my mind and breath heavy from exertion. Each step I took brought me closer to completing the process, but also allowed the charging King Behemoth to close the distance between us.

My concentration was split as an army of tank sized monsters threw themselves against my wall of spikes. With every crash I could feel myself shudder, as if the hit had struck me physically. It was exhausting both mentally and corporally.

I knew I could not go on for long.

I wanted to check on Telvy and her sister, but my attention was already strained and taking even a fraction of a second to do so could prove fatal. I would have to hope that my actions had been enough to buy the mage and her sister the time they needed.

I wanted to do more. I couldn't fight the entire herd directly but creating barriers and weapons had become a bit of a specialty of mine.

I was already drawing heavily on the eldritch energy around me and it would take incredible focus and will to draw on it further. Maintaining the long palisade of spikes also took less effort than switching to a new image. Each construct needed time to form in my mind and each new image took exponentially more mental effort to sustain.

I still had the advantage of system dictated spells. They were not as versatile or as powerful as my own constructs, but many of them had the benefit of not requiring direction or concentration to utilize. They were much like macros, producing a complicated but predetermined output from a simple command. I aimed at the ground directly beneath me and used Tanglefoot bolstered by Wild Growth to create a wall of brambles in an attempt to slow my pursuer.

Thorns and twisting vines would grow out from the point where the spell was cast. They would be left behind to trip my enemies as I continued to run forward. The strategy was best used to tie down a group of smaller pursuers and I had never used it in combat before, but I was out of choices.

I did this several times, but it was worthless. I could hear the behemoth tear through each obstacle as if it were ripping through tissue paper. Its feet struck the earth in a drumming of heavy beats that never slowed or faltered.

It would have been just as useful had I gift wrapped myself for the creature in the hope that it would give up and go away.

As it broke through my final barrier, with my mana expended, I could hear small dings as bits of plant and thorn struck the back of my armor. Perhaps it was my mind creating illusions, but I swear I could feel the breath of the behemoth as hot gusts brushed against my neck and a pungent musk filled my nostrils.

The horde of smaller beasts continuously crashed into the barrier to my right, adding to the confusion and slowly sapping my concentration. Some of the beasts had decided to stop slamming into the wall and were instead leaping above it, crashing into the ground to my left with heavy thumps. They left long gashes in the earth as they slid to a stop and fell onto their sides and backs in failed attempts to quickly turn.

The lumbering behemoths were not graceful when taking corners. This new strategy did little to add to their pursuit, but it did add to my mental pressure as I began to feel as if I were being closed in on from every direction.