Eternal Master: Path to Godlike Status-Chapter 11: World

Elisa recognized the clothing.

Argent Tower robes, worn and faded from years of use. Beneath the hoods stood two middle-aged mages, skin pale and bluish, dark circles carved deep under their eyes.

One of them spoke, voice soaked in old resentment.

"Funny, how talent works. Not even twenty and almost at Master Rank." His eyes moved over her slowly. "You think you’re better than us, don’t you?"

"You’re here for the skeleton." She met his gaze. "Take it. Don’t make this personal."

"We came for the skeleton, yes. But now that I’ve seen you... wasting someone with talent like yours would be a shame. I might have failed, but perhaps I can raise a successor. Using you."

The second mage’s lips curled into a cruel smile. "Not a bad idea. Why don’t we see who can make her bear a child first?"

Elisa’s hand trembled, their words crawling under her skin, leaving only disgust and fear behind.

Dorn let out a tired, defeated sigh.

"Well." He rolled his shoulders and set his stance. "So it’s a death match. Fine. At least one of you is going down with me."

Eira chuckled and took her stance. "You’ll have to kill us first if you want to touch our friend."

Watching them defend her honor, Elisa was glad to find trusted teammates.

Unfortunately, the power of friendship was not enough to save their lives. Their deaths were practically etched in stone.

"Are you really going to fight us under those conditions?" the first mage sneered. "Just hand her over, and we’ll let you live."

Dorn’s grip tightened.

"Hand her over ?" he growled. "Not a chance. If you want her, you’ll have to pry her from my cold, dead hands."

He slammed his hammer into the ground. His body heated up, skin turning red, muscles tensing. He was using his berserk skill, a power that would ultimately kill him after a single use.

"ATTACK THEM!" The first mage barked orders.

Two armored fighters charged straight at Dorn.

"EARTH-SUNDER—"

The shield slammed into his shoulder, but he swung anyway, hammer crashing into the fighter’s head.

Eira slipped through the gap, axes flashing as she struck before the enemies could regroup.

"Watch your left!" Dorn warned.

She caught the blade on her crossed handles, pushed it up, and head butted the enemy across the nose. He stumbled. Her elbow found his throat on the way down.

Two down. Five left.

Elisa poured what little energy she had left into her staff. The crystal barely glowed.

"FIRE ORB!"

It hit the mage’s chest, but a translucent barrier flashed into existence, absorbing most of the impact.

Then she noticed the other one. He was moving his hands slowly.

Green mist crept up from the ground. Thin, almost invisible in the light filtering through the trees. A strange smell came with it — damp soil and sweet.

Sleeping spores.

"Get back!" She tried to move away from the mist. Her legs felt like they were buried in mud. The staff was suddenly very heavy.

Not yet.

She threw one last gust of flame at the spores. It barely disturbed them.

Eira was still moving, still fighting despite the exhaustion. An axe slipped from her hand. She caught it with her other hand and buried it into a fighter’s shoulder. Sadly, her movements were becoming slower.

"I’ll STOP YOU!" Dorn roared and charged straight ahead. He only made six steps before his legs gave out on him.

He rolled onto his back and looked up at the sky through the canopy.

"Dirty tricks...," he muttered.

Elisa used the staff to hold herself up before her knees gave out. If she weren’t so exhausted, she could easily counter the spell.

The two mages stood over her and laughed. It was the kind that came from men who had been small for a long time and finally felt big.

"Look at her." The first one crouched down and grabbed a fistful of her orange hair, tilting her face up. Her eyes were half open.

"All that talent. All that potential." His thumb pressed into her cheek. "And she drops just like anyone else."

The second mage remained silent, his gaze lingering on her chest with twisted thoughts already forming.

Before they could act on their desire, a leather-armored fighter’s voice rang out from across the clearing.

"What about the big one?"

Dorn was face up on the ground, chest still rising and falling.

"Do what you want with him."

They didn’t need to be told twice.

Kicks rained into his ribs. He groaned, eyes barely open, and feeling every hit.

"Big man." One of them drew his sword. "This is for killing our companion!"

The blade slashed down toward his thigh.

"ARGGG!" He bit down hard, yet a rough, pained sound still escaped through his nose.

The second fighter slammed his boot into the wound, and they stabbed again and again until he drew his last breath.

"NO!!!" Elisa screamed.

Before she could even finish mourning, her eyes caught Eira being dragged to a tree. They tied her up and started removing her leather armor, one piece at a time.

"STOP IT! YOU SICK BASTARDS!"