>>6053316How many times is this thing going to repeat the same old tactic? Could it be that the fear effect of the scream is the only effective form of protection it has? The familiar icy grip of fear enters, and it breaks something brittle within you. You take a step back, intent on fleeing from the tiny, ugly thing to the safety of your comrades and the Gate.
But something stops you. There is no one behind you, but there is a firm hand on your shoulder pushing you forward and preventing another step backward. A woman's voice whispers in your ears, soft yet unyielding as iron...
<span class="mu-g">Twas now, men say, in his sovran’s need
that the earl made known his noble strain,
craft and keenness and courage enduring.</span>
<span class="mu-r">Trait - Brave Wiglaf: The more exposed you are to psychic attacks by an enemy, the greater the chance of resisting it. If you expose yourself to it enough, you may become immune to that enemies' mental attacks! </span>
This damn thing had tried to breed unwarranted fear within your breast multiple times. In fact, the moment you set foot in the magically labyrinth'ed manor, it tried to make you a coward. The strange breathy whispers and nonsense noise, the subtly unnerving rooms ever-expanding, and the bloody ceilings are all its doing.
Illusion appears, illusion ceases, and there is nothing but mere phantasms behind this attack!
<span class="mu-r">Backlash is building...</span>
Damn it, it seems <span class="mu-s">The Black Prince</span> is no longer able to ward off Backlash from the World anymore with <span class="mu-r">Chevauchée</span>.
As though sensing the resistance of the fear attack, the eye changes tack. It blooms, sends out billowy strands of hair, and floats upward on the heated air circulating within the burning room. It elegantly lifts like a hot air balloon. Bright purple tentacles catch every possible draft it can to escape your reach.
"The Gate is ready!" Yatagarasu announces.
The mason has already dragged two, the thin Baphomet and the heavily injured evolved Baphomet, to the center of the circle, where the two other warriors huddle and shiver in fear and anger. It is hard work for the weakened goat man to rescue the immobile; smeared with soot, he coughs miserably from the smoke. The fire has been growing all this time behind you. You can hear the cracks and crashes of the roof falling in somewhere in the house, and despite the ice force field, the heat is becoming unbearable.
The two baleful eyes are going to make their escape; you could try to at least skewer one of them. The question is, do you have time to waste on that? The manor is crashing all around you now; the fire is so intense that it has finally melted through the icy force field and allowed in a blast of heat that scours the lungs.
