Lowlife, Scoundrel, Bandit Queen

Chapter 156 - 156 - Too close for comfort

It's a dangerous gamble, but I take the risk anyway and attack once more. That the gathered ghosts press as close to the edge of the light spell's effective radius as they dare, works out to my advantage in this case. It allows me to strike the first one, one of those I managed to shake with my trash talk, down without risking any retaliation. Any why wouldn't I? Outnumbered as I am, I'm already at a disadvantage anyway. I need to stack at least the rest of the odds in my favor. Every little bit helps.

[*Ding!* Critical Hit! Ghost's Health reduced by 113!]

[*Ding!* You have defeated a Ghost!]

It's another well aimed strike, now that I know that ghosts can actually suffer critical hits, and it works out nicely. As the gruesomely mutilated ghost essentially bursts, splattering everything behind it with ectoplasm that almost immediately begins to evaporate, I retreat back towards the light before any of the other ghosts can get their hands on me.

The initial attack benefits my [Melee Weapons], [Blades] and [Long Blades] skills, helping them all along towards the next level up a little. My immediate retreat right after on the other hand, improves both my [Tactics] skill and my [Dodge] skill. That's not bad, not bad at all. Now I just have to somehow take care of the other two dozen or so ghosts. Easy as eating pie, isn't it?

This is turning out to be quite a workout! No rest for the wicked. I guess by some definition of the word I have to be quite wicked then. I flash the remaining ghosts, gruesome sights one and all of them, another toothy grin. It might look a little maniacal.

"Would you look at that, I think we already found the first idiot ghost and I'm starting to get an inkling which ones are the cowards too."

The trash talk helps. It's not just to reassure myself either. Some of the ghosts are beginning to look a little more reluctant. Both my [Bluff] and my [Intimidate] skill improve some once more too. Neither results into a much desired level up notification though. Too bad. I guess I have to keep earning those the hard way then.

I don't have time to waste either. The blessings on my buckler and more importantly my sword won't last forever and without a shrine with an altar I won't be able to renew them either. Somehow I doubt the ghosts would let me slip away into town to renew those if I'm caught amidst them when they fade. No, that's not bloody likely.

The line of ghosts at the edge of my light actually wavers as I jump again. My sword connects anyway, although not quite in the same decisive way as before, thus I have to follow up with a shield bash before I can retreat again.

[*Ding!* Hit! Ghost's Health reduced by 75!]

[*Ding!* Hit! Ghost's Health reduced by 58!]

[*Ding!* You have defeated a Ghost!]

In a way it's not the worst. More of my skills benefit like this. My [Melee Weapons], [Blades] and [Long Blades] skills are the first to improve, even if just ever so little. They are quickly followed by my [Shields], [Brawling] and [Ambidextrous] skills.

It's not bad. It really isn't. It comes at a price though. Another ghost manages to grab a hold of me, ever so briefly, before I can retreat again. This one looks like a baker. A baker that has been drowned.

[*Ding!* You have been wounded! Health reduced by 15!]

Her touch is especially unpleasant. It's possibly even worse than that of the ghosts that have been burned at the stake, which I defeated before. It feels cold like a grave, pretty much like the touch of any of the others so far. At the same time though, it feels wet and glibbery too.

That one will be my next target. That decision takes almost no time at all. That drowned baker's touch has been the worst so far. I choke back a laugh as I think about it. Given the nature of these ghosts it's probably only a question of time until I come across one that is even worse. I bare my teeth at the offending apparition, flashing it a toothy grin.

"I guess you are the next idiot I have to do in. I have to admit I'm a little surprised. The ratio of idiots to cowards is surprisingly high among your sorry lot. Alright let's finish this real quick so I can get in at least a little rest before dawn."

My [Intimidate] and [Bluff] skills improve some more and a handful of the gathered ghosts, or maybe even a few more, actually make a run for it. At least that is my best guess. They stop manifesting at the very least. For all I know they could still be around, but they didn't look like the sort who would come up with a clever ambush idea like that. No, they probably are really gone, at least for now. That still leaves me surrounded by more than enough others anyway.

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Before I can strike again though, hoping that the remaining spectral apparitions don't wisen up to my approach to take them out one after the other, the situation changes drastically though. A wail from many mouths washes over the place, and just as I whirl around, a wave of ectoplasm splatters me head to toe, as a number of ghosts get splattered by something else. My eyes widen as I take in the sight that greets me and my jaw actually drops a little.

"Well, quack."

I may be repeating myself there, but the statement still sums up my situation quite aptly.

It's another ghost for sure, but this one is different. Very different as a matter of fact. And he doesn't seem to care much for the other undead either, considering how he just splattered a number of them without hesitation. This one is big. If I had to guess, I'd say he was an orc in life. His stature reminds me of Barnim, Ediva's companion or Kronk, the former bandit lord. While he stands tall and looks massive he too is slightly translucent. Not in the same way as the other ghosts though. Unlike them he looks like darkness made incarnate. In fact shadowy writhe over the ground all around him, encroaching even upon the circle of light protecting me from the others so far. And then there is the mighty cleaver he is wielding, as spectral as he himself but obviously deadly anyway.

His body too hints at the way he died. He differs from the other ghosts in that regard too though. While the others obvisouly were executed in various gruesome ways, it seems that this one died in battle. Dozens of spectral arrow shafts are protruding from his body and his throat apparently has been slit too for emphasis while a gaping hole can be seen where the heart should be.

It might just be prudent to learn a little more about this one, thus unlike with the other ghosts I have dispatched so far, I properly focus my attention on him to activate my [Identify] skill, full well expecting that he won't like it. Some of my Mana drains away and the skill improves a little. Then the results brush the back of my mind, whispered in the voice of Fox.

[Barad, Executioner (Blood, Uncommon, Level 9), Wraith (Shadow, Uncommon, Level 9)]

Even as he roars at me in anger, shadowy spectral spittle evaporating in the light of my spell, I swallow hard. His levels aren't bad. Worse though, he has two uncommon classes. That usually is not a good sign. Not only am I in the thick of it, I might just be in it way over my head, especially considering that I'm not exactly fresh after the previous fights.

I decide to act tough anyway. What else am I supposed to do after all? Weep, cry and beg for mercy? That's not going to do me any good. Not with the damn bastard that probably is responsible for the presence of a good deal of the other undead. Thus I flash the big bastard a cocky grin.

"Well, look who decided to show their ugly mug. Want me to mop the hillside with it?"

I was uncertain at first, but apparently the dead orc executioner understands me well enough. The way his shadowy dark, translucent face distorts leaves no room for doubt in that regard. It's what happens next that gives rise to actual panic.

While the other spectral undead stayed away from the light, this one seems to have no such qualms. Sure the light seems unpleasant to it, but that doesn't stop it. It barely flinches back for more than a moment as it first enters the effective range of my spell. That's not good. Not good at all.

The next unpleasant surprise follows suit, as the undead menace raises its weapon only to bring it down right away again, as if to cleave me in half. Judging by the looks of the massive two handed cleaver that might just be what this thing was built for. This thing probably would have no problem beheading a horse or an ox.

I don't even think about blocking it, even though my blessed buckler and sword might just be able to do it, at least together. Instead I dodge. Or at least I try to. This Barad is faster than the other ghosts. Not as fast as me, but still fast enough to provide another unpleasant surprise. In fact, despite my intentions I have to bring up my buckler in the end to deflect the massive chopper, so it won't bite into my trailing leg.

[*Ding!* You have been wounded! Health reduced by 54!]

Although I did my best to mitigate the damage, it's still substantial. Goodness gracious! If it had been much worse I'd be joining the ranks of the spectral undead now. I feel like I'm precariously close anyway and can't help but shudder.

Not even the involved skills, [Dodge], [Shields] and [Block] improving in the process can count as a real silver lining in this case. It still felt like I was just grazed by a speeding coach. How can a mostly translucent weapon, that seems to be barely part of the world, feel so massive? Massive enough for my shield arm to feel numb?

At least none of the other ghosts take advantage of the situation. Quite the opposite actually. Even the last ones have made off by now. I guess that's that. Seems they don't want to end up as collateral damage, a sentiment I can surprisingly enough relate to after taking even just a glancing hit.

I stumble back a little, grimacing in pain now. Another hit like that and I'm done for. Oh, who am I kidding. If that brute so much as sneezes at me right now he might accidentally kill me. I need to end that monster and I need to do it quick. More importantly though, I need a second wind, otherwise I won't get out of this alive. The fastest way to get one? Attack!

First I channel some of my Mana into creating an additional sphere of light, directly in the face of my opponent. Sure, it doesn't seem to harm the big brute like it did the others, but he still seems uncomfortable. The drain on my Mana reserves still feels unpleasant, but that is something I can life with. My [Light] skill progresses a little towards the next level up too, which is important.

As the hulking brute recoils from the bright light I created right in front of his face, another of my skills improves and a notification follows. It's too bad that this one counts towards my scoundrel class.

[*Ding!* Your skill Tactics has leveled up to level 6!]

Well, I won't be disheartened though. At least it improves my spirit attribute and thus my Mana reserves and my magic power as well. And as for my second wind, I'll just have to keep working to earn it. And I know just how to achieve that too. The key to success? Attack! Not a halfhearted one either, thus I go all out.

I don't go high. No, I go low instead, aiming for the heels. Ghosts still are susceptible to critical hits after all, so why not? A quick but decisive slash in passing, so the huge brute will have to turn for his next strike.

[*Ding!* Critical Hit! Barad's Health reduced by 173!]

[*Ding!* You have defeated a Barad the butcher of the frontier lands!]

I stumble to a halt in surprise, as my blade does not just clip the tendons in the back of his legs. Instead the strike outright destroys the ghost that looked so massive and unshakable only a moment ago. I barely even take note of my [Melee Weapons], [Blades] and [Long Blades] skills improving another little bit.

Exhaustion washes over me, now that this fight is over and my arms begin to shake ever so slightly. I don't think I have been this close to death ever since my encounter with Kronk the mushroom zombie bandit lord. An ice cold shiver runs down my spine, as someone starts to slow clap nearby.