Chapter 260 Terror Construct VS. Dream Beast-03
As the mist swirled around, the Hydra stood tall, a monstrous guardian forged from the fusion of dark magic and a patch of dried skin from the legendary Lernean Hydra. Its presence alone sent shivers through the surrounding area, dispersing the mist around the Hightower mages.
With a deft wave of his hand, Eisenhart directed the Lernean Hydra Terror Construct to lower itself, facilitating his swift ascent onto its back.
"Join me up here! We need to retreat now!" Eisenhart urgently called to his comrades. The wind shield protecting them from the encroaching mist began to diminish, succumbing to the corrosive influence of the Dream Realm.
"Thank you!" expressed one of his comrades, conveying gratitude as he promptly leaped onto the Terror Construct's back. The remaining mages followed suit.
Once everyone had found their places on the creature's back, it surged forward in the direction opposite to Sloth. That path held their promise of survival, leading towards their waiting allies and the secret base of operations for the Path of Knowledge Faction in this region.
One of the mages, his voice laden with both concern and confusion, cautiously addressed Eisenhart, "Lord Eisenhart, why haven't we reached our destination? What the hell is happening?"
Eisenhart, maintaining his composed demeanor, scanned the mist-shrouded surroundings before providing an explanation, "I've delved into this in the Hightower secret library. These mists are an extension of the Dream Realm's influence. Time and space here operate differently than in the real world. The clock ticks in strange ways, and the mist seems to abide by its own set of rules. We're ensnared in a kind of dreamy limbo between the realms of dreams and reality. And you know dreams — they're inherently unpredictable."
The mages exchanged uneasy glances, a mix of fear and realization crossing their faces. The revelation that they were entangled in the mysterious rules of the Dream Realm added an extra layer of disquiet to their already unsettling predicament. They clung tighter to the construct, navigating through the mist with an uneasy acceptance of their entrapment within the dream's eerie embrace.
As the construct thundered through the mist-laden abyss, a grotesque tentacle, long and nightmarish, unfurled its rows of razor-sharp claws, aiming to ensnare and halt their desperate escape.
Eisenhart and the mages, their courage still unwavering, unleashed a cascade of attack magic, illuminating the oppressive darkness with the brilliant hues of their spells. The air vibrated with the echoes of their incantations, a momentary reprieve in the foreboding stillness.
Yet, as the tentacle crumbled into dissipating shadows, an unsettling roar pierced the oppressive mist. It was not alone; various dream beasts, each one more nightmarish than the last, responded in a grotesque symphony of eerie roars. The very fabric of the fog seemed to quiver, and the mana corrosion power within it intensified.
The strain on Eisenhart, who maintained the wind shield safeguarding them, became tangible. It was as though the mist itself hungered to consume not just their hope but also their sanity, and the eerie chorus of dream beasts echoed in sinister harmony, as if responding to a malevolent conductor orchestrating the nightmare that unfolded.
Within the swirling mist, the cacophony of nightmarish creatures intensified. The haunting symphony now included guttural growls, unearthly screeches, and the unsettling sound of unseen entities shuffling through the ethereal fog. Shadows danced around the mages, their forms distorted and elusive before the first direct assault came.
A shrill screech pierced the air as a bug-like dream beast rushed out of the fog, its body burning, yet its maw with rows of sharp fangs open wide, attempting to bite the neck of the nearest mage still intact.
With a resounding crack, the small beast sank its fangs into the magic shield prepared by the mages. However, the dream beast's teeth, crafted from a mysterious material, corroded the mana in the shield, causing it to crack and weaken.
"Die!" One of the mages, fueled by a mix of fear and determination, unleashed a fiery punch directly at the small dream beast, reducing it to ash on the spot. Only its sharp fangs remained, proving to be the most resilient within its fragile body.
"Please hurry, Lord Eisenhart!" Another mage pleaded, their courage wavering as their dwindling mana became more apparent.
The onslaught grew more relentless. Larger dream beasts, their forms monstrous and grotesque, emerged from the mist. Tentacles, claws, and indescribable appendages reached out in a frenzied attempt to ensnare the fleeing mages. The air crackled with palpable malevolence, as if the very mist conspired to devour their hope.
Driven into a berserking frenzy, many of the smaller dream beasts hurled themselves at the mages with fervor. Flames erupted as the creatures collided with protective spells, their ephemeral bodies burning in a macabre display. The mages, bathed in the eerie glow of arcane energies, fought desperately to maintain their defenses.
The very fabric of the dream realm seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy, amplifying the surreal intensity of the encounter. As the mages struggled against the relentless assault, their surroundings warped and twisted, heightening the disorienting effect of the dream's influence.
The line between reality and nightmare blurred, and the mages found themselves caught in a nightmarish dance where every incantation, every spell, was a heartbeat in the rhythm of survival.
As hours elapsed, the relentless assault of dream beasts took its toll on Eisenhart and the mages. Their mana rapidly depleted, and the reserves from both their mana pool and the regeneration capsules they had prepared were exhausted, leaving them teetering on the brink of succumbing to the nightmarish onslaught.
In a moment of decisive and malevolent intent, Eisenhart's eyes gleamed with unsettling determination. Without warning, he thrust his hand into one of the nearest mages, who gazed at him with a mix of confusion and betrayal.
"Why?... Why me?" The mage, understanding Eisenhart's pragmatic choice in this dire situation, but questions still remain… Why him? Why does it need to be him? Despite the dire circumstances, he harbored aspirations and ambitions that now seemed to crumble.
Before the mage could press further, Eisenhart began chanting an incantation, and an excruciating pain gripped his mind.
"Arrrrrrrgggghhhhh!!" The unfortunate mage's scream echoed, while the remaining mages observed stoically, grateful that they were spared this grim fate.
In a dark and ancient ritual, Eisenhart harnessed the blood and life force of the sacrificed mage, converting it into a surge of mana. The lifeless body of the fallen mage transformed into a dried corpse, akin to ancient mummification, before crumbling into black dust, leaving only the red mana within Eisenhart's hand.
Directed to everyone, this newfound mana replenished their reserves, momentarily halting the encroaching exhaustion. An eerie glow of arcane power enveloped them, providing a renewed vigor to fend off the relentless dream beasts in the abyss of the mist.
The struggle persisted, the passage of time marked by nine arduous hours within the enigmatic mist.
"How much longer, Lord Eisenhart!? I can't… Arrrggghhh," screamed the inquiring mage, his question cut short by a blade-like sting from a bee-like dream beast piercing through his abdomen. Though burning, the creature's maw opened wide, severing the mage's head in a single bite before retreating into the mist.
The mage's lifeless body lay on the ground, becoming a macabre bait for other dream beasts, distracting them from pursuing the dwindling group. Now, only three survivors remained, including Eisenhart.
Fear clutched the hearts of the remaining mages, their wary gazes fixated on their leader. Dread lingered as they wondered who would be the next victim.
"Our extraction point is just 10 minutes from the target. If what I've read from that book holds true, the dream realm's influence on reality has limits. The temporal distortion won't exceed ten times the normal length. In just one more hour, we'll survive this nightmare!" Eisenhart attempted to rally his followers, seeking to boost their morale.
"Ye… Yes, Lord Eisenhart! We will obey!" The mages nodded in response, the two remaining survivors proving more pliant and less rebellious than their fallen comrade, making it easier for Eisenhart to maintain control of the situation.
The relentless assault resumed with a newfound intensity. The dream beasts, having tasted blood, hungered for more, their ferocity escalating as they sought to feast on human flesh and blood once again.
The mages maintained their defensive stance, yet the dynamic of the assault shifted. This time, the dream beasts strategically targeted what seemed to be vulnerable points on the Terror Construct, concentrating their attacks on its multiple heads in the form of the legendary Lernean Hydra.
Despite the heads being torn off, the legend held true, and two more heads sprouted in their place, exponentially enhancing the Lernean Hydra's combat prowess.
"Heh! Foolish creatures," scoffed one of the mages with disdain, witnessing the futile attempts of the dream beasts to assail their leader's Terror Construct, fashioned in the form of the legendary Lernean Hydra.
However, as more heads grew, the speed of the Terror Construct was noticeably hampered. Recognizing the urgency of the situation, Eisenhart took decisive action. Once again, he sacrificed one of his subordinates, but this time, employing necromancy to channel flesh, blood, and vitality directly into his Terror Construct.
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