Snowy just looked like he was laughing.
With only seconds remaining before he’d get sucked back to the tanks with a taunt, Jirald moved quick as the wind, grabbing his dagger from where it hung tangled in Snowy’s fur. The wolf darted back faster than Murmur had ever seen him move, and for the first time she saw mild panic in Jirald’s face.
Like he hadn’t actually believed he could lose, and yet here he was, about to do so.
He still made the most of his last seconds before Devlish could taunt him again, flitting around and inflicting as much damage as he could. He even got Masha, Sinister, and Veranol with a gut wound before he was forced to return.
The healers were so low on mana, even if Jirald was at six percent health. It would be touch and go to get him to where she could cast Forestall Death on him before he was free again.
Every percentage past five felt like a stab at her brain. She watched it so carefully. At three percent all of the DoT casters stopped using those spells so it wouldn’t accidentally tick him over before she could cast her spell. If she hadn’t been so scared of mistiming the damned spell, she’d have found this amusing.
That one percent remaining felt like it would never go anywhere, and Risk was on his last taunt already. She wanted to ask Somnia what the hell had possessed the world to make them spare his life when all he ever threw at them was trouble?
But she knew deep down it wasn’t humane to treat him differently. After all, just because she didn’t like him didn’t mean he needed to suffer endlessly. That would make her far too much like him. And she didn’t need to stoop so low.
Jirald screamed out a challenge with but a sliver of life left. But a sliver in a huge hit point pool was still a lot of hit points.
“Murmur, Murmur. You know I’ll find you. I’ll hunt you down. All of you and your stupid guilds. This is only virtual.” His grin spread so much it seemed Halloween horroresque.
It was difficult not to let those words take root and grow to bother her, but she managed it, mainly because this was just a worse version of him. Maybe things would be different had they landed in the same guilds way back, but they hadn’t, so here they were.
She could feel Snowy’s presence right beside her, his steady warmth and guidance. It would be okay, it had to be. It was almost time. Forestall Death sat at the tip of her fingers, her MA ready to throw it, and her mind ready to instantly transplant it over to him.
Ten thousand hit points.
She could feel the entire raid practically holding their breath there was so much tension in the air. Too much tension, it felt sort of suffocating.
Five thousand hit points…and she let it go. The spell hit him, just as he began to crumble to the ground out of injury and exhaustion. He had maybe one or two hitpoints left, and Masha’s HoT on him. At least with him still in the raid directly targeted beneficial spells could work.
You have defeated Jirald the Vengeful
You have completed the quest: See the Light.
You have successfully defeated Jirald without killing him and will receive appropriate rewards.
You have been granted access to the full final tier of the Prison.
Don’t waste it.
Look for your reward when this is all over.
Murmur stumbled, but Snowy caught her with a concerned wuff. “I’m okay, boy,” she said scratching behind his ears. “Just didn’t realize how tense I’d gotten over the whole thing.”
“You’re talking to the wolf again. You know that can’t be healthy, right?” Havoc observed, standing next to her, his eyes riveted on where Jirald lay on the ground in the middle of the massive hall they’d fought in, apparently breathing, if his moving chest was anything to go on. “You really sure we shouldn’t have just killed him?”
She shook her head. “No, but apparently Somnia was. So we got that quest. Let’s go see what happens now he’s been defeated?”
Even as they walked over, Veranol and Masha had begun to heal him up. Devlish was in the middle of talking to the rest of the raid.
“…hits you like a freight train ran over you, left you for dead with all of your death throes intact, and then it reminds you that you’re actually alive, and it takes a few minutes to get your bearings back and remember you can breathe now.” Devlish said it with a grimace. “But it is definitely better than dying and losing experience and armor durability, and whatever else comes with it.”
Then he turned and looked at Murmur. “So…thanks for that?”
She laughed. “If you remember correctly, the first person I had to test it on was me, and all thanks to Mr. Jirald here. You’re welcome. And is he waking up?”
Masha crouched next to the rogue, and even Murmur could see his eyes open as he stared out to the side. The rogue had his hands back up by his face, having shrunk back down to his original size.
Masha looked up at Murmur and shrugged. She sighed, hoping they could just move this along, because standing here in this chamber didn’t seem to be a good idea.
“Everyone renew buffs. Get your potions restocked and anything else you need,” Devlish called out over the raid upon noticing Murmur’s expression. She mouthed thank you to him and studied Jirald as the rogue finally moved.
He rolled to a sitting position, his head in his hands, and a soft groan escaped him.
“How are you feeling?” Masha asked gently, like he was babying him in case he was injured.
For the first time since she’d known him, Jirald didn’t snap an answer out. Instead, he sighed took a long breath and spoke. “Like my head has been in a jackhammer for three weeks.
