The mustached man cursed under his breath as his figure flickered erratically. He pushed his instincts and reflexes to their absolute limits, weaving and darting with all sorts of unpredictable movements and impossible angles.
But Prismatic Spray could bend.
There were simply too many rays, and they were terrifyingly fast. No one could evade every single one.
Up until now, the mustached man had relied entirely on his thief's instinct to "move first." In essence, it was precognition—anticipating the attack before it happened—then trusting a bit of luck and the instinctive reflexes granted by his extraordinary Dexterity to dodge.
But there was only so much a person could do in such a tiny fraction of a second. Even if his first prediction was correct, it was nearly impossible to react effectively to the rays' two subsequent homing course corrections.
Bang! Bang!
An indigo ray and a yellow ray struck almost simultaneously.
Blinding arcs of lightning and a dull gray petrifying enchantment spread across the mustached man's body.
[Mask's Chosen was hit by the Lightning Ray, taking 43 lightning damage. Current Hit Points: 96/183.]
[Mask's Chosen was hit by the Petrification Ray. Constitution saving throw succeeded.]
Some of the remaining rays dissipated against the Forcecage's invisible bars, while others slipped through the gaps and slammed into the wooden building beyond. The walls were blasted full of holes as flames erupted throughout the structure, leaving it on the verge of collapse.
Shivering, the mustached man rolled into a corner and shouted, "You... listen to me! Evan's in danger! If you go now, you can still save him..."
Anser ignored him completely.
He drew his bow again and unleashed his signature spell once more—
Prismatic Spray!
This time, however, he replaced the Petrification Ray with a Fire Ray.
Eight rays in total.
Every single one an offensive ray.
They ricocheted wildly throughout the cramped Forcecage, their paths so chaotic that even Anser himself couldn't predict where they would go.
The mustached man tried using the uneven lattice of force as cover, but Anser had deliberately chosen this firing angle. Shooting downward from above left almost no blind spots.
Bang! Bang!
Two more rays found their mark.
Fire and poison erupted simultaneously.
A fist-sized hole was burned through the man's waist, revealing blackened, sickly green internal organs beneath.
[Mask's Chosen was hit by the Fire Ray and Poison Ray, taking 41 fire damage and 34 poison damage. Current Hit Points: 21/183.]
'He has resistance to almost everything.'
Anser wasn't surprised.
A level 19 character had access to legendary feats. It would have been stranger if he didn't possess numerous resistances.
Especially as one of a god's Chosen.
With a thunderous crash, the riddled wooden building finally collapsed. The relatively small fire was smothered beneath the debris, leaving wreckage strewn everywhere.
The Forcecage remained suspended in midair.
The mustached man lay limply against its invisible bars, staring fixedly at Anser. His eyes were filled with shock and utter disbelief.
This wasn't right.
None of it made any sense.
Struggling upright, he fumbled out a potion. But one of his arms had been badly injured, leaving him unable to lift it to his mouth. Panic and fury twisted across his face.
"Do you dare kill me? If you do, my lord will surely mark you. You won't escape..."
Anser maintained a calm expression, though inwardly he was a little uneasy.
He had never killed one of a god's Chosen before.
He hadn't even imagined that a single Forcecage would be enough to trap someone like this.
Being marked by a deity didn't particularly bother him.
What worried him was the possibility of Mask personally descending to hunt him down.
A commotion suddenly rose in the distance.
Shadowy figures poured into the dim street, sprinting toward them at full speed.
Under the moonlight, one bald man carrying a massive greatsword stood out immediately.
Stoll had arrived.
'Kill him.'
Anser made up his mind.
He wasn't fighting alone.
He had never held much reverence for the gods themselves, much less one of their Chosen.
The bowstring trembled.
A dazzling burst of prismatic light shot forth once again.
The mustached man made no attempt to dodge.
He could only watch as three of the rays ricocheted and struck his chest, thigh, and shoulder.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
His body convulsed violently, his eyes losing focus. Layer after layer of brilliant colors spread across his mangled flesh, beautiful yet cruel.
At death's door, a holy symbol shaped like a black mask lit up on his forehead.
Its radiance flared brilliantly, releasing wave after wave of faint black divine light that spread outward before enveloping him completely.
The horrific wounds covering his body began healing at a speed visible to the naked eye.
"Hahaha..."
The mustached man's consciousness returned.
Lying on the ground, he burst into manic laughter. His wounds split open again from the strain, making him look almost hysterical.
Anser immediately sensed something was wrong.
He leaned forward, lightly plucked his bowstring, and unleashed his signature spell.
Eight beams of prismatic light tore through the night sky.
Several of them struck the ring of faint black divine light, only to ricochet away one after another, flying over a hundred meters before vanishing into the darkness.
Seeing this, the mustached man became even more arrogant.
Pointing his dagger at Anser, he shouted, "Come on then! Kill me, mortal!"
Anser had no intention of indulging him.
He raised a finger, casting Temporal Shunt and Chronal Shift simultaneously.
The divine light rippled.
No effect.
By then, the divine aura surrounding the mustached man had reached its peak. It began pulsing rhythmically, while his body gradually blurred, as though he would disappear at any moment.
Realizing what was happening, he began making threats, though even his voice was becoming indistinct.
"You just wait..."
The halo exploded outward, flickered a few times, then quietly faded away.
Yet the mustached man remained exactly where he was.
[Mask's Chosen activated Divine Teleportation. A difficult Charisma check was forcibly triggered. Check failed. The spell failed.]
The mustached man jerked upright in panic.
He touched his forehead, looked around, his mouth hanging slightly open while his fingers trembled uncontrollably.
"How... how could this happen? My lord... is omnipotent..."
He couldn't believe it.
For the first time, even his faith in his god began to waver.
The corner of Anser's mouth twitched into an odd smile, equal parts mockery and amusement.
'Does this count as trying to prop up a hopeless case?'
He hadn't expected a Chosen to have a trump card like this.
But even such powerful life-saving abilities still depended on the Chosen themselves.
If you fumbled it yourself, there was no one else to blame.
"Where'd all that swagger go?"
Anser shot back.
Not wanting to drag things out any longer, he immediately drew his bow again.
Eight rays of prismatic light burst forth.
Their dazzling colors reflected in the mustached man's eyes, mercilessly mocking the bravado he'd shown only moments ago.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
His eyes were vacant.
His fighting spirit had completely collapsed.
He instinctively tried to dodge, but four prismatic rays blasted him off his feet, sending his twisted body crashing into the corner of the prison.
[Target killed. Gained 5,678 combat experience and captured a wisp of divinity.]
'That should be real this time... right?'
Standing atop the bars of the Forcecage, Anser remained on guard for quite some time, but detected nothing unusual.
'That's it? He's dead?'
Oddly enough, that only made him less confident.
The amount of experience and the way the man died didn't seem worthy of one of a god's Chosen.
"Anser!"
Stoll leaped into the air, lightly pushing off the bars of the Forcecage before landing atop the prison.
"Are you alright?"
Even though he knew it was a pointless question, he couldn't stop himself from asking.
The moment he heard the commotion, he'd rushed over at full speed, leaving crater after crater across the several hundred meters he'd crossed.
But the battle had ended too quickly.
All he'd heard was that skinny man shouting arrogant taunts inside, followed by what sounded like a spell failing, before several rays turned him into a human pincushion.
"I'm fine."
Anser looked down.
Osborn, Nefis, and the others had already arrived.
Behind them stood two Iron Golems, both in combat mode.
Farther away, quite a few people were watching the scene from a distance.
"Evan?"
Anser looked toward the Upper City.
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