Chapter 35: Thunderstruck

Gray sensed that the Lizardman shaman was about to cast another spell and hurriedly lunged forward. Just as his fingertips were about to brush Chud’s chest, the Lizardman shaman’s body suddenly shrank out of thin air, transforming into a black-feathered, red-eyed raven that soared into the sky.

Gray was stunned for a moment, then snatched up a stone from the ground and hurled it into the air. The raven flapped its wings, easily dodging the stone, cawing mockingly from above.

Furious, Gray bent down to grab another stone, but the raven that Chud had become was quicker, launching an attack from above. With a swipe of its talons, a column of lightning crashed down, striking the giant marsupial’s back with a deafening thunderclap.

The power of the third-tier “Call Lightning” spell was far beyond that of the first-tier “Ignition.” Even Gray’s formidable physique couldn’t withstand it; he was knocked to the ground by the bolt, a painful groan escaping him as he struggled to move through the lingering numbness. Before he could rise, another flash of lightning struck from above, felling him once more. His back, battered by repeated strikes, was left torn and bleeding.

…

Joan crouched in the bushes, watching helplessly as the Lizardman shaman summoned lightning to smite Gray. Anxious and angry, he forced himself to remain calm, racking his brain for a way to help Gray escape danger.

If the shaman had remained on the ground, Joan could have rushed out and fought him directly, but now the enemy had transformed into a raven, hovering high above. What means were left to threaten him?

Joan estimated the raven’s altitude—about twenty yards from his hiding place—well beyond the range of his “Ray of Frost.” Even a dart would be unreliable at that distance. Clearly, his only option was the “Mage Hand, Greater” spell.

Without hesitation, Joan began the casting gestures, murmuring the incantation in a low voice.

“Rúma!”

As he uttered the activation word, Joan anxiously watched the sky, relieved to find that Chud hadn’t noticed anything amiss, still focused on conjuring a third bolt of lightning for Gray.

Taking a deep breath, Joan relied on the countless hours of grueling practice that allowed him to maintain concentration even in crisis. He deftly directed the invisible magical hand to draw a poisoned dart from his belt, sending it silently skyward. In an instant, it extended fifty feet outward, coming within ten feet of the hovering raven.

Joan wished he could inch “Mage Hand, Greater” even closer, increasing his chance of a perfect throw. But the Lizardman shaman was more alert than he’d expected, suddenly turning to glare in the hand’s direction.

No more time to wait!

Clenching his jaw, Joan’s pupils narrowed as he summoned every ounce of focus to hurl the poisoned dart with all his might.

A flash of silver streaked through the air, skimming just beneath the raven’s belly.

Joan’s heart sank; instinctively, he thought he’d missed. The raven tumbled through the air, flapping desperately to steady itself. Its crimson eyes blazed with fury as it shrieked a murderous cry toward Joan’s hiding place.

Crash! A bolt of lightning struck directly overhead. Joan felt weightless, tossed helplessly among the tangled undergrowth. Agony and numbness flooded his senses. Through the haze, he glimpsed the raven, now like a meteor out of control, flapping frantically in vain attempts to regain altitude, only to plummet earthward, shrieking in terror.

Seeing this, Joan exhaled in relief.

In the last second before losing consciousness, he knew his dart had at least grazed the Lizardman shaman, and was even more satisfied to see that the paralysis poison was more potent than he’d hoped.

…

He didn’t know how much time had passed. A gentle, warm touch on his cheek gradually pulled Joan from the depths of oblivion. Struggling to break free from the darkness, he slowly opened his eyes to a terrifying yet worried face.

Gray knelt by his side, cradling his head gently, sobbing in distress. All six of Gray’s eyes were brimming with tears, which fell onto Joan’s face, bringing a familiar warmth.

“Don’t cry… I’m not dead yet,” Joan said with a feeble smile.

Gray’s teary eyes widened; grief turned instantly to joy. He leapt up, cheering ecstatically.

Lying on the grass, Joan flexed his numb limbs, then managed to stand with difficulty. He found no obvious wounds, only a lingering numbness down one side of his body—likely the aftereffects of the lightning.

Leaning on a bush for support, he made his way toward Gray and asked weakly, “What happened to the raven?”

“Dead!” Gray’s face darkened. He turned and disappeared into the grass, dragging out the mangled corpse of a Lizardman. Only the tattered gray robe, stained with blood, allowed Joan to recognize the shaman; the skull, nearly flattened, told the rest of the story—Chud, after succumbing to the poison midair, had fallen and been caught by Gray, who promptly finished him with a crushing stomp.

After resting for two minutes and regaining some strength, Joan knelt beside the shaman’s body and searched it carefully. Fortunately, Gray had only smashed his head and hadn’t vented further rage on the corpse, so all of Chud’s belongings remained intact: two small leather pouches and three glass vials from his belt pouch, as well as the belt itself, all shimmering faintly with magical light.

Joan, not yet versed in the “Identify” spell, could sense their enchantment but not discern their effects. The exception was the three vials—he recognized them from Aunt Barbara’s general store as healing potions infused with divine magic.

He handed one to Gray, kept another for himself, uncorked it, sniffed the familiar, soothing aroma, and bravely drank it down. A wave of coolness spread from his throat through his body, and the pain and numbness from the lightning vanished in moments.

Gray swallowed his potion, glass bottle and all, as if eating a candy, then smacked his lips with satisfaction. The wounds on his back quickly scabbed over; such was the potency of the potion.

Joan hesitated to use the last vial. He tucked it safely away with the rest of the unidentified spoils.

A gust of hot wind blew from behind. Joan glanced back to see the magical blaze the Lizardman shaman had started was spreading, flames and smoke rolling steadily toward the cave.

He stared at the inferno for several seconds, then turned to Gray.

“Do you have anywhere else to hide besides here?”