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And Screams--52

  Silence stretched, broken only by the faint whisper of dust billowing outward. The sudden stillness was deafening, the absence of noise ringing in my ears. Adrenaline thundered through me, each heartbeat a hammer against the quiet. Slowly, my senses began to return.

  Pain came first.

  It started in my shoulder, branching outward like fire spreading through dry grass. Each breath was a battle against the inferno in my veins. A distant, detached part of me identified the cause: poison.

  Blinking against the haze of dust, I focused on the basilisk’s glowing eye. Its jaws were clamped around my shoulder, a massive fang piercing my armor as if it were paper. My free hand braced against its upper jaw, holding it open by sheer willpower.

  I sucked in a ragged breath, agony pulsing with every beat of my heart, and analyzed it again.

  Bane Basilisk

  Level 4

  Hit Points: 80/200

  Mana: 50/100

  Status: Partially Blinded, Enraged

  Under that, I caught the rows of information I hadn’t seen before.

  Resistances:

  Magic

  No wonder Clover’s lance hadn’t worked.

  A scrambling sound reached me, cutting through the haze. Clover’s voice followed, sharp with worry.

  “Frederick?!”

  Her tone mirrored the panic bubbling through my veins. The basilisk’s jaws clenched tighter, sending fresh waves of pain cascading through me. My grip faltered, and darkness crept into my vision, the poison draining more life by the second.

  Time was slipping away. We needed a plan–and fast.

  The basilisk jerked, drawing my focus to its throat.

  Its squishy, vulnerable throat…

  A fragment of an idea began to form and I asked inwardly, Does magical resistance work throughout the body or only on the exterior?

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  My spirit’s reply came instantly, tinged with the same frantic urgency I’d heard when we’d found Gregory’s body.

  Exterior. But you are in no condition to use Retribution!

  She was right. With both hands occupied, using the ability wasn’t an option. But that hadn’t been my plan. Last time, Retribution had drained half my hit points in an instant. Judging by the darkness crowding my vision, using it now would kill me.

  Forcing a deep breath through the pain, I gritted out. “Clover, get ready to fire another lance.”

  Her reply was a choked noise, the light of her magic flaring at my back, unable to reach the wound. “Are you insane?! It’s resistant!”

  “Only on the outside,” I rasped, my grip slipping as the basilisk thrashed. If I faltered, it would end me before the poison could.

  Gritting my teeth, I pressed my arm upward, forcing its jaws open wider. The fang embedded in my shoulder twisted, white-hot agony igniting anew. I didn’t stop. Dragging my foot forward, I slammed it onto the snake’s lower jaw with all the strength I could muster.

  A sickening crack echoed through the room. The basilisk writhed, its struggles jerking the fang deeper, but I followed its movements, refusing to let go.

  Summoning my mana, I cast: “Radiant Bastian!”

  The golden shield enveloped me, dulling the worst of the pain. I shouted, every fiber of my being straining to keep the creature’s mouth open. “Do it!”

  Behind me, mana surged, thick and electric in the air. Light built in a dazzling wave, casting jagged shadows across the room.

  Clover stepped forward, the glow of her lance illuminating the dust-choked battlefield. With a determined cry, she drove the lance upward into the basilisk’s mouth.

  “Illuminating Lance!”

  Heat warmed my side, but I didn't flinch. The spell pierced the roof of the basilisk’s mouth, golden light spreading like cracks in shattered glass. Its skin split, mana pouring from every fissure.

  The light intensified, enveloping the creature’s head entirely. A heartbeat later, its body slumped, lifeless. Its head–everything from the neck forward–was gone.

  I staggered back, my hand instinctively clutching my shoulder. From the corner of my eye, I saw the dark cloud surrounding the phoenix dissipate. A surge of victory flared briefly before exhaustion crushed it.

  The room spun, colors bleeding together in a nauseating whirl. My legs gave out, and I collapsed, the ground meeting me with pitless force. Pain roared anew, drowning out everything else.

  The fire in my veins burned brighter, a cruel reminder of the poison coursing through me. I tried to speak, to warn Clover, but liquid filled my throat, choking me. The sharp tang of iron overwhelmed my senses.

  “Frederick!”

  Her voice was raw, drenched in naked terror. My eyelids felt impossibly heavy, but I forced them open. Clover knelt beside me, her face pale and streaked with tears. Gold healing light glowed in one hand, the other cradling my head in her lap.

  Her lips moved rapidly, words tumbling out, but I couldn’t hear them. The icy chill of the poison spread, wrapping me in a suffocating embrace.

  I focused on her face–the tears dripping onto my cheek, instead of the coldness wrapping around me like a tomb.

  That wasn’t right. She shouldn't be crying.

  We’d won…hadn’t we?

  With effort, I reached up, brushing her tears away. A streak of red marred her skin when I pulled away.

  “S’rry…” I slurred, the word thick and heavy on my tongue. My head buzzed with disconnected thoughts, but something hissed at the back of my mind.

  Clover shouldn't be covered in blood.

  Her head shook violently, her glowing hand pressing harder against my wound. Her free hand gripped mine, desperation written in every line of her face. Her lips moved, but her voice never reached me.

  The darkness surged, consuming the edges of my vision. The last thing I saw was Clover’s eyes widening, her mouth open in a silent scream.

  Then–nothing.

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