Cataclysm System (Completed) - Chapter 93：No Longer Naked

As the group of five got closer to where the flare had lit up, the noises got louder. At first, there had just been few noises travelling through the wind but for every step they took, another beast joined the cacophony.

It was now the climax, the roars and screams in beat with the squelching mud. Stanis wasn’t scared; he had braved similar scenarios too many times now. Nor was Okoye, Vasile, Jen or Pete; they were just as impassive as he was. The mood between them was sombre and cold in contrast to the humid air that surrounded them.

Stanis watched as Pete took another swig, before wiping the droplets out of his beard. In all truth, Stanis also felt the desire to drink and numb himself for what was to come but his mind wouldn’t allow it. Every time his hands lowered and accidentally slipped towards his waist, they would find themselves frozen, trembling even.

Alcohol would numb him but it would also ruin his decision making. That was an acceptable trade-off in the company of Pete, Bear and Skint, three people he could overpower even when drunk. But the people he had around him now?

Vasile was a strong frontline fighter, enough to give him a hard time without a doubt.

Okoye was worse, her spells and skills restricting and weakening. What use was his strength if she could easily downgrade it?

But the worst out of them was Jen, the silent pyscho. She didn’t talk and she didn’t move much, but her zombies more than made up for her inactivity. Her zombies seemed to retain some part of themselves from before death and so it made a group of them frightening, each of them strong in different ways. And on top of that, she had supportive skills to strengthen her undead, as if her strength hadn’t been domineering enough.

Luckily Pete was still Pete. That was the sole joy Stanis got out of the group. Pete cared, of course he did, but he acted like he didn’t care about anything in the world. He was the biggest irreverent, piss-head Stanis had met and thank goodness for that; at least he was a person Stanis could vaguely understand and relate to.

Stanis’s thoughts were brushed away as the figures in the distance cut into his vision.

“That’s a lot of ’em,” Pete said, his voice almost without a hiccup.

“Doesn’t look easy either,” Vasile said while casting a spell onto his feet.

“YarrGHH—arrgh,” one of Jen’s zombies agreed.

“Oh, there they are,” Pete pointed with his canteen. The other group’s flashy skills were visible even through the hordes of false-men and women that surrounded them.

Stanis rubbed the handle of his sword while wondering how they were going to make their entrance. It was obvious from their mannerisms that everyone in the group had been leaders, in their own respects, back on Earth. But assigning such a role between them was impossible for the time being. No single person had enough trust or power in the group to be able to ascend above the rest of them.

“Okoye, do your thing already,” said Vasile.

She grunted in response and took out a large container from under her robes, one far too large to fit under her robes. Inside it was the various parts of flesh she had torn off each of the false-humans they had fought. She opened the container and picked a few bloody pieces of flesh out, rubbing it between her palms while chanting.

“Ya, la seto cokoma —-ra ne mato. Shauurgh,”

The false-humans closest to them, who were still quite a distance away, began to twist and turn, their limbs rolling up and down through their joins. Stanis could see their flesh melting away as they tried to resist, to no success, of course, as their wax-like flesh continued to melt down.

A few of the false-humans who were close enough to the group to notice what was going on but far enough to not be targeted began to scream, alerting the rest of the false-humans of Stanis’s group’s entrance. The response was quick as 8 false-humans immediately left their positions and sprinted towards the group.

Stanis tightened the grip on his sword and focused, to which several crystals began to form around him. He shot the ice crystals in conjunction with two simultaneous Blueshot spitfires, his reward for such a feat being a head full of pain. But it was worth it as 3 of the false-humans dropped out of the charge, not at all hurt enough to be injured but still distracted.

He raised his sword and stepped forward to meet the first false-human, dodging its punch before chopping towards its neck. It twisted out of the way with a cat’s agility before punching out once more, this time at a larger target: his chest. The punch landed and Stanis stumbled back, stabilising himself just before falling over. The false-human was worse off and watched him with snake-eyes while clutching onto its fist. Its knuckles were burnt black and its fist was still twitching.

Stanis grunted before closing the distance, leaping over a sweeping kick before thrusting down. The false-human moved out of the way but was still hit by the lightning that grew and fell off the blade. The false-human recoiled in shock but not fast enough as Stanis thrust once more, this time chipping flesh off of its knee.

It fell forward and Stanis followed up, chopping down at the false-human’s feet. It didn’t cringe in pain but instead continued to attack him with its free hands, some hitting while others being miles off.

With the knowledge that he didn’t have much time left, Stanis frontloaded his sword with much more mana than sensible and violently struck out at the downed biological machine. His hands were numbed frozen and burnt black by the end but it was worth it as the false-man’s lopped head lay by his feet.

Stanis finally let go of his breath, and looked around as he Lightly healed his hands. Jen’s 5 zombies had stopped 3 of the false-humans. From one look, it was obvious that her side was barely winning but it was also clear that she cared very little about the fight as she was watching the still, blue sky.

On the other side, Vasile was caught up with two false-humans. He was similar to Stanis in the fact that he was a frontline fighter, but there was a fundamental difference on what they focused on. Stanis had quite a loose focus but it was mostly on offensive strength. Whereas for Vasile, he trusted his transformed state enough for offensive abilities and instead focused his points into defence. This was the reason why, despite managing to take two on at once, he was getting nowhere with either of them as both parties did very little damage to the other side.

Stanis turned around and looked at Okoye, before quickly wishing he hadn’t. Her opponent was crawling across the ground towards her, only to be stopped time and time again by invisible walls. As for the reason why the false-human was crawling instead of walking, that would have to do with the fact that its legs had been melted off, allowing Stanis to see the bright bones inside.

Last was Pete, who had actually far out-broken Stanis’s expectations from when he had first met him. Pete was holding himself quite well against the female false-human he had found himself against. His strikes were lousy but also accurate, each of them twisting mid-way to hit their target each and every time. Despite the clumsy way in which his feet moved, his body was still upright and rarely falling or even flailing. In fact, Stanis was certain that Pete would have won by now was it not for the fact that he looked at the false-woman’s breasts every half strike…

After having acknowledged that none of his teammates were in immediate danger, and more importantly that his hands were healed, Stanis picked up his sword and went looking for a new target.

****

Through the course of fighting the false-humans, Stanis used all his skills, apart from Scout and sense, without fail. It was 15 minutes later, with his dagger drained of darkness, with his body drained of energy due to Layman’s rush, with his vessels drained of mana due to his wild spell use, that the false-human crowd began to thin.

The other group of five had seen his group the moment they had come and had acknowledged them, before getting back to fighting. Not too far from where they were making a stand was a raised platform with pillars arching towards a bright light in the middle. It looked exactly like the teleporter in the nameless man’s basement apart from the buttons and levers.

Delirious and lost in a sense of bloodlust, Stanis cared little about the objective behind their mission. Instead, his mind was filled with macabre thoughts of striking all these damned things down. But not even his illusions could stop the fear from cutting through as he heard rustling sounds, and then a war horn.

Out of the thickets stepped out 5 more false-humans. However, compared to the ones he was fighting and nearly finished with now, these ones were wearing clothes and had actual weapons by their sides.

“Shit,” Pete muttered from the side, his hatchet almost slipping out of his grip.

Shit indeed, thought Stanis. Shit indeed…