Whether it was because of distance or forewarning, Alarion's second experience with [Spectral Orchestra] was considerably better than his first. His ears weren't happy with him by any measure, but the young man remained standing and clear-headed through the explosion of sound that devastated the line of Soulless constructs.

More importantly, he was still standing to handle their counter-attack.

The bolt of incandescent pink light was fast as an arrow, telegraphed only by a sharp whine and a terrible glow at the end of one outstretched arm. Aimed at Sierra, the attack crossed the distance in a heartbeat, only to cascade off Vitrian steel as Alarion interposed himself.

Seven of the Soulless had survived Sierra's attack, but none had done so particularly well. The most intact one had fired off a shot, its crude blackstone arm already shifting to target exposed portions of Alarion's body while its compatriots collected themselves.

Quite literally, as it turned out.

Even the most damaged of the Soulless were repairing themselves at a speed that would make a fiend envious. The shattering of their bodies had thrown ruined stone across the courtyard, but that stone seemed drawn to them. It twitched and shifted of its own accord, then jumped and skittered along the courtyard to rejoin the main body as soon as it came close enough.

"It's the head," Alarion said after quickly surveying what differentiated the dead from the living.

"Agreed," Sierra replied through heavy breaths. Casting her spell in such an involved fashion had drained a considerable amount of her reserves, and there was a clear 'thank you' in her eyes for how readily he had come to her defense. "I'm alright. Go."

Alarion flicked a glance back at her for only a split second. Just long enough to be sure. Then he charged.

For all Sierra's legitimate concerns about the dangers the Soulless could pose, Alarion was not impressed on an individual level. They only had one attack, a slow charging, predictable blast that was not up to the task of putting down an Awakened of even Alarion's caliber. Yes, it had considerable stopping power, as evidenced by melted divots where the scattered beam had melted the courtyard stone, but its only real chance to hit him was to fire at nearly point-blank range.

Alarion would not give the machines that option.

His flying greatsword caught the Soulless in the torso, just above the breastbone. He'd been aiming for the head, but throwing and shifting his weapon on the run was an acquired skill that Alarion had nowhere near mastered. Even so, the blade punched in one end of the stone soldier and out the other, buried up to the hilt.

Surprisingly, having an enormous sword sticking out of its chest did not disable the Soulless. In fact, it barely seemed to notice it. Fortunately, the weight threw off its aim, allowing Alarion to avoid another blast and close the remaining distance. Once there, he grabbed the sword's hilt and wrenched it clear of the machine's body. Its top half teetered, the wound already healing, when gravity took charge and snapped its torso off at the hip.

One heavy blow to the downed automaton's head finished the conflict decisively.

A high-pitched cry of energy and a sharp pain brought Alarion out of his victorious revelry. A second Soulless had recovered while he was fighting the first, and it had put a bolt of energy through the skin and muscle of Alarion's shoulder as the boy had turned to face it.

You have suffered moderate P̸̙̺̅͜a̷̛̟̠͈r̷͔̳̟͗̀̈́t̸̤̥́i̵̤̖͑̄́c̶̱̀͜l̵͈̺̪͂͒e̸͇̝̿ damage. HP -76.

Alarion did not have the time to consider the oddity of the system message. Even a grazing shot had done considerable damage. More damage than it should have, and with a correspondingly large amount of pain. A debilitating amount of pain, Alarion realized, as his right arm struggled to maintain a grip on his greatsword.

He swung twice, pressuring the Soulless back, but unable to land a telling blow with only his left hand. It leveled its dominant arm, a pink sphere building just beyond the outstretched tip.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Then Sierra came to his rescue.

The girl bull rushed the machine, knocking its weapon out of alignment a moment before the bolt loosed with a sound akin to the teeth of a saw grinding along a metal pipe. She followed up with several sharp stabs, none of which found purchase where they needed to. Stone flaked off in chunks, and the creature's shield arm fell away under a series of withering attacks. But it stayed upright, its weapon already charging for another shot.

Until she pushed her fingers in its face and snapped.

A sonic boom assaulted Alarion's already wounded ears as the stone guardian's head disintegrated under a wave of concentrated sound and force.

"Are you alright?" Sierra asked quickly.

Alarion flexed his hand. The fire in his nerves had already begun to dim, and he nodded in response. "Mm."

They exchanged no further words as the duo advanced on the remaining five Soulless, who were engaged with a handful of Sierra's summons. Unlike the battle with the fiends, her spectral soldiers had not lasted long. Their attacks could inflict nothing approaching lasting damage on the automatons, but the reverse was sadly not true. Each energetic blast dispersed one of Sierra's minions back into the ether, and the spirits were not keen enough to learn the timing to dodge.

But they had done their job. Seven soldiers against a wounded Alarion and a flagging Sierra might have been a problem. Five was manageable, especially when the humans could pick them apart piecemeal. Alarion crushed one into the dirt with an overhand attack against its shield, then pinned its arm in place long enough to pierce its head. Sierra put her knife to work, decapitating another in a twisting volley of slashes. Together, they defeated a third, with Alarion removing limb after limb before Sierra struck the killing blow.

They did not escape unscathed. Twice more they were wounded, flash burns from a near miss for Alarion, and a shot through the leg that dropped it out from beneath Sierra. Alarion covered her through her recovery, and her magic proved its mettle again as she summoned Kotone to strike from above. The attack was weak, but pinpoint, as a stinger emerged from the familiar's bottom half and pierced the Soulless from crown to chin.

The machine shuddered in mid-air, then fell limp.

With only one enemy remaining and Sierra safe behind him, Alarion advanced on the last foe with abandon. He took its weapon arm in a single stroke. Then its shield. It tried to rush him, and he impaled it to the ground for its trouble, kicking away its arms to keep it from regenerating.

"What are you doing?" Sierra wondered.

"Can you talk?" Alarion asked it. The machine's only response was a struggle to stand, which Alarion suppressed by adding his foot to its burden. Then he switched his dialect, this time to Ashadi. <Can you speak?>

Nothing.

<Can you communicate?> He pressed a third time in halting Imurian.

"Kra Rak Navir?" Sierra said in a tone that spoke of a total lack of conviction.

Yet it was that phrase that got the machine's attention. It was slight, an almost imperceptible turn of the head. But something she said had triggered a buried subroutine.

"What language was that?" Alarion asked.

"Eviran. It is an eastern language, spoken by the first Steelborn. Before they developed their own." Sierra rapid fired through half a hundred words in the language, but none got the same level of reaction as her first. "If it understands us, it cannot act on it. Give the poor thing mercy."

Alarion's blade tore through dark stone as he finished the wounded machine to a whirlwind of system notifications.

You have slain [S̵̛̟̼̜̊M̷̫͚̣̽-̶̔ͅ6̶̢̛͕̣̌0̴̹̪̽̕F̵̳͗̓ ̶̰̟́͋̇S̵̝̽e̶̳͔̻̊n̴̙̳̐͊͗t̶̛̼̠̒r̵̥̦͇̋y̶͔̒̏ – UCL Error]

Exception: Unexpected Subject

Full Traceback

Re-categorizing

You have slain [Soulless Sentry – UCL 96] – Bonus experience earned for slaying an opponent above your UCL.

Level Up! Congratulations, your Stubborn Swordsman Class has advanced to Level 7! STR +18. AGI +18. VIT +6. INT +12. PER +12. WIL +6.

Skill level increased. Imperial Greatsword Mastery is now Level 9. STR +12. Skill level increased. Thrown Weapon Mastery is now Level 7. AGI +4. PER +4. Skill level increased. Pig-Headed Resilience is now Level 2. VIT +8.

When Alarion looked at Sierra, he noticed she was also focused on her Status, looking perplexed.

"This isn't normal, is it?"

"Hmm?" Sierra was momentarily flustered as she snapped back to reality. Fortunately, her mind caught up in time to save her the embarrassment of asking him to repeat himself. "No. No, it is not."

"I know UCL isn't a great judge of strength, but…"

"It must be their weapons," Sierra answered his unspoken question. "Did your status also-"

"Break?"

She frowned.

"I have seen nothing like it. But at this point, unprecedented events seem to hit us by the hour. We should just thank the System for valuing them so highly when they were so easy to beat."

Alarion couldn't argue with that, so instead he turned his attention to the spire the sentries had been guarding.

"Time to find our way in?"

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