Chapter 20: Against The Storm
Elf Mage Afton's P.O.V.
The desperate screams of innocent civilians could barely be heard at the moment, yet the sound of steel against flesh seemed to resound clearly in his ears.
The fact that even the explosions caused by skills and flying objects failed to drown the horrible sound only served to bring more horror to him.
Afton - protected behind a human's stone wall - stretched his hands as if to receive something. His eyes unfocused for a brief moment before he came back to and looked at his foe.
That monster was freely navigating between the dozens of surviving adventurers, hopping from one flying surface to the next while attacking with his stolen katana, a casual grin still hanging on his mouth.
Besides his sword, he also made use of the rubberbanding rubble in the air to smash his foes and prevent them from regrouping and counterattacking.
His movements were flawless, weaving here and there like he knew where the next attack would come from and rehearsed everything countless times beforehand.
Were it not for the fact that time travel magic was too costly to be used by a level 3 adventurer, the elf might have believed that this creep was messing with timelines.
After a moment, the elf mage became aware of his words and corrected himself. For the opponent they were facing was leagues ahead of a simple abomination.
His naming was not enough to describe the feeling of facing this enemy head on. Afton felt like he was back in his infancy exchanging magic spells with an adult Royal Elf, anything he did felt futile, and he was lacking in absolutely everything.
That thing could not be fought against, not by normal people - which they all were, despite the divine blessings. Everything sent at it would be swallowed effortlessly before it came back to them, to him.
It could not be stopped, and as time passed, it would only grow stronger. The momentum it carried could not be measured, for despite it still not being as strong as a legendary level 8, the weight it put into the minds of its victim far surpassed a mere tale.
This was the strength of nature, a power that could not be wielded while in this world, in front of the elf's eyes stood a symbol of death, one that he had no hope against.
In front of him was a Storm.
The mage came back from his thoughts as his mana left his body and called for the spirits' help, a white light appeared in between his outstretched hands before he called for the type of spirit he wanted.
"ippótis flógas, kaíne tous echthroús mou!"
At the end of his words, the light turned into a blazing ball of fire that separated into half a dozen fire lances before shooting out towards the disaster.
The elf prayed for his thoughts to be wrong, for if they are right, perhaps no one would leave here alive.
Either unaware or uncaring of the panic its summoner was going through at the moment, the spirit of fire weaved its fire lances through the mob of adventurers and kept aiming at its target indifferently.
Seemingly unaware of the oncoming threat, the enemy simply kept on his slaughter, and when the farthest fire lance was but a meter away from striking true, it was intercepted by a random block of flying stone.
The next projectiles suffered similar fates, some were even effortlessly dismissed by a wave of that thing's sword.
Afton would have laughed drily had his failure not meant the death of yet another companion.
He turned to look at his surroundings while unlatching a mana potion from his belt, he looked towards the hole digging deep into the dungeon, from where an absurd quantity of monsters left at every moment.
They were mostly of the weak variety, and the current team could hold them off for hours on end if needed.
However, they were stuck.
Afton looked skywards, the faint shine of a constellation that should not exist in this world was there to greet his eyes.
He sighed ruefully before drinking the whole bottle that was the size of his hand, the taste of blueberry filled his tongue, reminding him that grapes were better.
Once again, he stretched his hands.
"Plénoume stin xirá!"
He felt water flow under his skin for a moment, before the horrifying bloody reaper in the distance suddenly became drenched.
Even while water clouded its sight, the creepy apparition still leisurely avoided blades that were decidedly faster than itself.
Then, Afton saw it looking at him, a brow raised in amused confusion. He shrugged, inwardly thinking that he screwed up.
When he saw that disaster moving towards him, he knew he was definitely screwed.
"We're all gonna die either way, so to hell with it."
Afton grabbed a monster core that shined blue from his backpack, it was his version of a grenade. He felt frustration build in his heart when thinking that perhaps even this would be avoided.
Clicking his tongue, he decided to risk embarrassing failure, it might give his friends more jokes to tell in the Realm of Gods later, but it would look cool if it worked. Probably.
His mind working harder than the first time he tried to outdiss his brother, Afton estimated his foe's speed and distance, plus his own casting time and the grenade's effective range.
There was no time for useless panic, so he imagined that he was facing a flying dummy seeking to bump his forehead instead of an unstoppable force trying to spill his guts.
Forty meters between the two, Afton started chanting for an earth wall.
"I gi spíti!"
He reduced the number of words in favor of faster casting, the enemy was quirky and crafty, but not literally strong to make a difference.
Wall rose right behind the wet bastard, and then Afton realized, he fucked up.
There was a sword pointed at him from ten meters away, the hand didn't seem ready to stab, however.
It was then that Afton remembered the other didn't use the same magic system as he. There was also the impression that the sword was going to be shot straight through his lungs.
'An embarrassment it is then.' Afton thought, unexpectedly calm.
True to his guess, a shining circle enveloped the katana before sending it flying straight at him, Afton could only smile wrily at the situation.
Fortunately for him, it seemed that today was not his day to die.
A spear flashed in front of him, deflecting the sword to the side - which then returned to its new owner as if held by a string.
Afton could see the back of a young woman, her casual clothes forming an extreme contrast to the rest in armor or protective vests. Her ponytail was long, and only served to add to the image of a casual girl taking a pleasant stroll through the streets.
Perhaps because he almost died, his head was not in the best of conditions and he thus failed to hold back his tongue.
"Oh, my hero." He said with all the drama he could summon. "Would you perhaps have a boyfriend?"
"A few." Came an answer, as if the random talk was totally okay in such a dangerous environment.
"Oh." Well, that was awkward.
There was a weird pause after that, the newcomer then raised her spear and pointed at the 'Storm'.
Afton realized then that there was something different about this savior of his, and he thought that maybe, just maybe, she may actually be a hero.
"Well, things are like that, bad guy." She said, the tip of her spear drawing eights in the air. "Please, release the hostages and fight someone else."
At this moment, the constellation in the sky shined once again, trying to extend its powers towards the new arrival.
And failing completely.
A beam of light descended and tried to shine on her but got blocked midway by a transparent barrier, losing strength before dispersing.
Thankfully for everyone present, the damage just so happened to spread to the entirety of the constellation, dismissing the intangible pressure that promised death to all deserters.
The woman seemed to realize this too, as she opened her mouth once again.
"You guys get back to killing monsters, I'll deal with this one until help arrives!"
Afton felt for a moment that it was a better idea to band up and deal with the immediate threat, but then realized that they would be fighting against a single man and letting hundreds of monsters free to slaughter civilians.
"On the move..." Afton muttered, then turned to the others. "Don't waste time, there are monsters to kill!"
He decided to not make any comment towards his companions who looked like they received amnesty, instead opting to turn and run away from the imminent duel.
He recognized the spear in the woman's hands, that was a legendary Spirit Weapon that belonged to Loki's most promising talent.
On the absolute peak of level 4, she was Beatrice, Fang of Calamity.
"Get ready." The woman in question said, smiling capriciously as she lowered her stance. "I'll kick your ass."
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
LostSoldier1
LostSoldier1 And we're close to seeing current Verhund's true capabilities! I would like to say that I'm brainstorming for ideas but these things come at random for me.
Also, I really wanted Beatrice to say "I'mma whoop your ass!" at the end but she was not that type, unfortunately.
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