“What’s his name?” I asked, again. Why would someone who could take on a Region Lord by himself not make the A-team?

“I don’t actually know his name,” Clark replied. “People call him the Zealot.”

In the distance, beyond several of the collapsed buildings several blocks away, I could make out the massive, tube-shaped figure of the Centiscythe, but I couldn’t catch any sight of the Zealot.

“I’ll go see if he needs a hand,” I said. I turned, and saw that Justin and Feng had followed us here.

“Keep an eye on these two,” I said. “If they get hurt, I’m holding you responsible.”

Then I passed Justin and Feng each an Interdimensional Pouch. “You’ve got health potions, mana potions, antidotes, Mana Beads, F-rank Personal Mana Shields, and backup weapons in each pouch,” I said. “Take care.”

With that, I vaulted over the wall, landing squarely on a massive roly-poly bug. The name didn’t do the creature justice, but I couldn’t remember what the bug’s real name was.

With Samantha’s combat shadow, I made easy work of the larger bugs. None of these creatures were threatening to me, but the wasps and mosquitos were certainly annoying. There were just too many of them, and they were everywhere. Fortunately, I had almost every inch of my skin covered, and the smaller bugs were too weak to bite or sting through my equipment.

It was slightly encouraging, as I fought my way past the city, that the plague of insects didn’t actually go on forever. I could see, off in the distance, an end to this massive swarm of creatures.

As I neared the Centiscythe, I started to doubt how I would actually kill the thing.

This was a monster the length of a football field, with thousands of hairy scythes sticking out of its body that cut through anything near it.

Dense swarms of bugs flew around it, just outside of the deadly reach of the scythes. and the ground was littered in worms and insect guts. The Centiscythe was a mottled patchwork of colors—it was a light brown, with specks of grey and huge splotches of purple blood.

I could see whole chunks of flesh the size of a car torn off of the creature, some scars running several yards long along the course of the body.

Pools of bloody ichor dripped from the Centiscythe onto the ground.

The creature itself was writhing in agony, slashing out frantically in a hundred different directions, curling in on itself and spasming, crushing nearby buildings in the process. It was clearly in pain, but I still couldn’t see the Zealot. As it spasmed, I realized why Ryker said it was essential we keep it from the walls. This creature probably weighed hundreds, if not thousands, of tons, and it moved with such speed that it could probably short-circuit the city’s Mana Shield with a single blow.

“Hello?” I called out, loudly but tentatively. “Need a hand?”

I was far enough away from the Centiscythe that I didn’t need to worry about its attacks, so I was content to kill any creatures that neared me. It was a dance of efficiency. I was investing my floating points in Agility, which allowed me to quickly kill all the insects that were capable of hurting me, while leaving behind the ones that couldn’t bite through my equipment.

“Hello?” I called again, louder this time.

Five seconds later, a gush of purple blood spurted out of the Centiscythe’s massive body. Then, a purple figure climbed out as well.

The man, dripping in purple ichor, swung a sword and shouted, “For Barith!” He chopped off the nearby limbs with ease, and then headed my direction.

It wasn’t until he wiped the sticky blood off of his face that I finally saw who it was.

Ethan. He had the same crazy eyes, hair matted in blood, and disregard for his own physical well-being that I had seen in the tutorial.

Ethan was a member of the Crucible? Why didn’t I know that?

I ignored Samantha’s jab, focusing on Ethan’s shouts. Who is Barith?

Samantha responded.

Ethan stopped ten yards away from me, and I could feel his aura slam down on me. It was a furious, blood-filled aura that left a metallic taste in my mouth.

“Don’t steal my kill,” he snarled.

“Okay,” I said, slowly, not quite sure what I was dealing with. Last time I met him, Ethan had barely been able to form coherent sentences. “I’m working on becoming a better person. I will help weaken it, and you can deal the final blow.”

This is my decision. Anyway, you told me earlier that I should try to befriend him. I want you to help me help Ethan kill the thing.

Ethan blinked in surprise at my words. “You bore the pain but you don’t have the power,” he said, half-dazed.

I had no idea what he was talking about.

I repeated Samantha’s words.

“Clear a path for me,” Ethan said. “I have one last skill.”

We lingered for a minute longer, letting Ethan catch his breath and drink a health potion. At least he wasn’t so crazy as to jump in to a battle in his current condition. The Centiscythe’s purple blood was slightly acidic, and even as we fought off the other bugs, I could hear the slight hiss of Ethan’s skin dissolving slowly.

Ethan didn’t seem to notice.

Breaking through the insects was the easy part. I moved with natural ease, every blow killing two or more of the insects, until eventually I was close enough to the Centiscythe that the number of bugs had decreased.

Meanwhile, Ethan had sheathed his sword and was muttering to himself, following me with his eyes half closed.

“Blood-soaked Barith, my blood is your blood, my sword is your sword….Blood-soaked Barith, my blood is your blood, my sword is your sword.”

I ignored his ramblings, focusing on following Samantha’s combat shadow.

I was acutely aware that at any moment, Samantha could lead me the wrong direction, leaving Ethan exposed to die. So I tried to predict the incoming attacks as well, making sure that I would never leave Ethan unprotected.

With the insects, that had been doable, but it was almost impossible for me to predict the Centiscythe’s movements.

Interestingly, it was challenging enough to discern if the Centiscythe was even trying to go anywhere. It had calmed down its writhing from when Ethan had been inside it, but it looked like it was more inching its way in circles and figure eights, than actually moving anywhere.

Its movements were very three-dimensional. Sometimes it would bunch up vertically, other times it would coil up like a snake, and at other times, it would roll over on the ground.

It rolled so frequently, spinning on its side so often that I was starting to think it didn’t actually consider one part of itself to be its top or bottom.

Once we were within the creature’s range, I finally used more than just my floating points, adding an additional 30 points into Strength, which allowed me slice through the scythe-like limbs with ease.

At the same time, Samantha had to predict flailing limbs that we couldn’t even see yet—the legs that were on the opposite side of the creature, when the creature was about to roll over.

This trick of the Centiscythe also functioned to replace any gaping holes among the scythes that I created.

Samantha, to her credit, was an amazing combat artist. We didn’t directly target the Centiscythe’s core, instead, we targeted a part of its torso about 20 yards away from the core.

However, by the time we were actually close to the creature’s body, we were just five yards away from the core, thanks to the creature’s curious pattern of movement.

“How close do you need to be?” I asked, as I sliced through a limb that nearly cut off Ethan’s head.

“I have given you my blood, I have given you my pain, now grant me your power!” Ethan started with a mumble, but it built to a shout.

I shrugged. “I guess we’ll get as close as we can.”

We were close enough to touch the Centiscythe, and with a sudden, earth-shaking flip, the creature looped a part of itself around us, trapping the two of us inside a circle of its own body. I was starting to think Centiscythe was a misnomer—I’d never seen a centipede that could move so quickly, or curl itself up in such a strange, sudden way.

This meant that there were limbs striking at us from all angles, now. The bright side, though, was that the Centipede wasn’t running, or trying to distance its core from us.

I increased my Agility by 30 points, dodging the strikes that were coming my way, and defending Ethan.

With a few quick steps—“There!” I said, pointing to an inconspicuous patch of the creature’s prickly surface.

Then, I returned to my defensive stance. It reminded me of a dance. I had taken Bachata dance lessons, once, and the instructor had mentioned that in bachata, the follow was the center, and the lead was revolving, orbiting around the center. You step away briefly, then return. You glide behind the follow, then bisect the dozens of limbs that are trying to kill your partner, and then return to your original stance.

“Blood! Pain! Power!” Ethan’s sword was glowing with a blinding white light, and he swung it directly towards the core of the creature.

The sword itself was about five feet long. But as Ethan swung the blade, the blinding light extended past the end of the blade, driving a deep gash that almost split the creature in half.

The Centiscythe spasmed, and the scythes that had been about to slice at us fell lifelessly towards the ground.

Purple blood oozed around us, and from Ethan’s feral grin, I knew he had just defeated a Region Lord.