The plan ford as if it were second nature to him.
Without missing a single beat, and before he could even nock the first arrow, Kael jumped over the railing of the store and legged it.
The storefront had a low barrier, and Kael vaulted it with a desperate burst of agility that surprised even him. Destination: the underground tro system. The plan ford instantly because the tro was the only place he understood better than the streets.
He’d survived there. He knew its corners. And knows its dangers. And by that knowledge, by that advantage he can turn this situation around.
He was more familiar with that place than anyone else, and if they decided to chase him into the dark, they’ll have only themselves to bla. The thought was grim satisfaction.
The tro wasn’t safe, but it was predictable in its danger. And predictable danger could be weaponized.
"Fuck, he’s running, shoot him down!" the first guy howled as he chased after Kael, while the second guy was aiming at Kael.
The bowman’s posture lowered, shoulders tightening, drawing motion smooth and fast.
From experiencing the heat of the Floor Boss, Kael knew that his best shot was to simply dodge duck and zigzag his way out.
His feet pounded on broken pavent, weaving between rubble piles and half-standing walls.
He thought of using [Presence] to avoid them, but decided otherwise; he has another use for that rune later and couldn’t be caught with his mana lacking.
The rune was a lifeline he couldn’t afford to burn out on arrows if he needed it for sothing worse in the tunnels.
The first arrow flew far too close for comfort next to Kael’s feet, but he managed to dodge it.
The shaft struck the ground and splintered, the sound sharp in the night. The second one grazed his head. A hot sting flashed at his scalp, and he felt a trickle of blood, warm and irritating, sliding down the side of his face. He couldn’t turn back, he had to trust his feet as he sprinted as fast as possible toward the tunnel.
"Fucker! Stop right there!" the one chasing him with the stone sword howled as he realized that Kael was freakishly fast.
His voice was full of disbelief and rage, the kind that made n sloppy. Kael didn’t answer. He didn’t have breath to waste on sarcasm.
’The fuck you an stop?!’ Kael couldn’t even say that out loud of how absurd it sounded. The thought flickered through him anyway, bitter humor trying to survive alongside panic.
Just then, as he reached the entrance of the tunnel, a sharp jolt of pain almost made him stumble. One of the arrows dug itself into Kael’s shoulder. The impact punched air out of him. He staggered a step, arm going numb for a heartbeat, then pain surged back hot and imdiate. But thankfully it didn’t penetrate deep enough.
The arrowhead bit, but not to the bone. He could still move his arm. He could still run. That was all that mattered.
"GOT HIM!" the man with the arrow said as he also sprinted after them. Kael heard the grin in his voice, the satisfaction of a hit.
He cursed and pulled the arrow out, a small stream of blood ca out, it wasn’t dangerous. If it had bit any deeper, he would have rather kept the arrow there until the chance to drink the other healing potion he had on him. For now, the pain he felt was manageable. So he continued on with his plan.
Kael got inside the underground tunnel system fast, without stopping he jumped past the stairs and landed near the rails. The sll changed instantly, damp stone, old tal, stale air that tasted like rust.
Darkness swallowed the street behind him as he descended. He climbed down to the rails and began sprinting in the dark toward the next station in the direction of the Dark Basilisk of Getava’s dungeon.
His lungs began burning with the effort, and the arrow wound in his shoulder throbbed with every jolt, but the tunnel gave him what the street couldn’t: fewer angles, fewer open lines for the bowman.
He had a plan to get rid of these pursuers. It wasn’t a clean plan. It wasn’t kind. It was simply the only one that fit the Tower’s logic: make the bigger monster eat your problems.
Checking his map, only one of them was close enough to the entrance, and he followed after. The second dot lagged behind, either cautious or slower. That was good. One pursuer was easier than two, and the noise Kael intended to make would do the rest.
And without wasting a beat, Kael’s crowbar struck down with the butt of the curved end on the railing.
Once, and sprinted, twice and sprinted, and thrice and kept sprinting.
Striking the railings with as much force as he could, creating as much noise as he could. The sound rang through the tunnel, tal on tal, a harsh clanging that echoed forward and backward, bouncing off walls like alarm bells.
It was reckless. It was stupid. It was perfect.
"Stop right there motherfucker!!" The man jumped behind him and began chasing after him. The pursuer’s footsteps slapped loudly on the rail bed, heavy and angry, and Kael’s lips twisted in a grim, breathless half-smile. Let him follow. Let him be loud. Let him tell the tunnel exactly where the food was.
And right then, Kael Heard it. It wasn’t a howl, nor was it a roar; it was the skidding of scales on stone and steel. A sound that didn’t belong to humans. A scraping glide, too heavy to be a snake, too smooth to be anything with legs. The noise carried with it a faint vibration through the rails, like sothing massive shifting in the dark.
The Basilisk had awoken. And it was pissed. Kael felt it before he saw anything, felt the pressure in the air change, felt the tunnel beco alive with hunger. The sound of scales grew louder, closer, and Kael’s spine prickled as if the darkness itself had turned its head toward him.
And both Kael and his pursuers were now on a direct collision path toward the jaws of a hangry creature.
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