Magic Breaker [Enby MC Anti-Mage LitRPG]

The crowd parts immediately, and chaos erupts within moments. Opal already gutted one priest, and Thatch stabbed another one with a sharp breadknife. Inu slips between me and the paladin, tackling her with brutal momentum, and slamming a whole slew of disorientation against the woman’s mind.

When Philia blinks the dizziness away, I’m already out the door, throwing a handful of mana-darts at her as a gift. They shatter against her armor, but one breaks skin, sending her own magic into disarray, though I don’t stick around to find out.

One of the priests chants a spell, but I shatter it, and an arrow from an archer harmlessly bounces off Inu’s chestplate, barely staggering her. When we dart around corners, we become [Unassuming], and I [Suppress] any detection ability thrown our way. 

We stick as a slippery group at the edge of their awareness. They try to encircle us, but Thatch finds them ahead of time, seeing them through buildings. They send archers, but Opal teleports and stabs them. Levels can only do so much against a sword through the gut.

A few times, the priests stop to cast healing spells, sometimes flapping crystal wings, or scaling mushroom buildings on dark claws. Wounds mend behind us, so only about half the people we attack die.

Somehow, Opal’s death toll is lower than Thatch’s. Whenever the handsome fighter gets his fists on someone, they break. It’s brutal, violence channelled into gallant fists, and his face doesn’t even seem angry anymore. The red rage doesn’t tint his skin, just flows with direct purpose. He’s perfectly calm as he caves a scithian’s face in.

Whenever the pursuers come to close, Sylves will invoke the fairy rites, making their muscles seize up. They collapse to the floor like puppets with their strings cut. Yet, through it all, Philia is relentless. She chases, flapping her crystalline, light-woven wings, disappears and reappears in bursts of brightness. She’s high level, but I’m mentally marking down her skills.

Some kind of light based movement, the pillar she’s used before, and some kind of heal, I’m sure. That’s three. She almost certainly has more. 

I grin. Only a matter of time until I tear them apart.

A new flash of light, and a small beam burns and tears through my shoulder. I quickly heal the wound, though the lingering heat licking at my insides makes it hard. Luckily, I can still run. Inu shifts to be behind me, probably relying on some class skill to defend me better. 

We sail through a market stall, tossing crates behind us, and crowds part in front of us. Sylves, especially, uses wind to knock plenty of obstacles in the way of our numerous pursuers.

The paladins hack through wood and mushroom, glass and metal, stomp past confused people and wasted food. They contend with pain, dizziness, rage, my [Suppression]. None of their skills work properly, and a half dozen debuffs bore into them. Thatch channels his [Rage] into his [Piercing Gaze], turning the ocular ability more dangerous, too.

With all these advantages, we make it to the tunnels. We scramble, we hop, we duck and dive in a strange confusion. Philia is right on our heels the entire time, blinking as light. A radiant sword manifests in her hands, and she swings it - only for the resplendent beam to strike against a pane of liquid mana, harmlessly diffusing.

A scream of rage tears from the woman, and I laugh, loudly, infuriating her more. Then, I quiet down, and focus on running. We’re at the gates when she catches up again, the city guards attempting to stop us. 

Opal grins, happily, as they reveal another one of the lovely secrets we’ve prepared. With a quick movement, they pull a bomb from their pockets, push mana into it, and toss it at the paladin. Another bomb sails at the guards, who very quickly decide not to get involved.

Then we’re out, and in the tunnels. We toss another bomb, and Norman conjures up a few [Protective] barriers that Philia smacks into. One is deviously placed at head height, and while it fragments, I cannot imagine it feeling pleasant. Light envelops her, healing her wounds, but we’re already around the corner, then.

All at once, we jump, sailing high through the air and easily clearing a part of the floor that is thin and weak. Philia, crossing the corner a moment after us, steps down heavily.

The sabotaged sheet of brittle stone breaks under the weight, and she is forced to waste more mana by stopping her fall via a teleportation. Inu uses that moment to send another spike of dizziness and pain her way, and the ground under her legs shifts as the ants start helping.

A few of them are magically skilled at manipulating rocks, and are now putting that talent to work, destabilizing the paladin’s footing, slowing her down some more. Enough for us to reach the first branch, where we started truly trapping things. People split off into different directions now, and I lead Philia along with me, showing up just long enough to give her a middle finger.

She roars in anger, chasing after me - right into a tripwire spun from Amelie’s most durable thread. She stumbles, for just a second, and I send a needle of mana her way. That blazing sword manifests again, deflecting it, when the ceiling above her opens up and a torrent of rocks pours down. 

Another teleport of light. I throw a half-hearted [Deconstruction] at it, disassembling the remains of the abilities after it’s over. It clicks into place, but not quite enough. More running.

Amelie has puppets, placed in nooks in the rocks, that stumble out to hack and stab at Philia. A bolt of light suddenly shoots my way, but gets entirely swallowed up by Kuro’s darkness, my shadow wrapping up to eat it.

“You even have the power of darkness!” Philia yells. “Of course a parasite like you would reject Respitia’s glorious touch!”

I grimace. “Does your goddess often try to gloriously touch strangers? That’s kinda gross,” I reply easily, ducking my head under another tripwire. 

When Philia tries to reply, she’s drowned out by the screech of metal, as spikes drive up from the rocks floor. She leaps over them. In the middle of the air, I toss a bomb at her, forcing her to teleport. 

Again, I pick at the edges of the skill, analysing, learning, profiling. I have her radiant sword selected, feeding information from it, too. Another puppet traps her, and then, we’re finally deep enough.

I take one more turn, and come face to face with Elis. 

The warrior ant is titanic, confidently taking up the tunnel, and decked out. Her entire body is covered in armor, densely filled with the simple inscriptions I could manage. It glows, drawing in mana in a torrent. Philia’s eyes widen as she sees the insect.

“Oh my,” I tease. “Looks like it’s finally dawning on you. You fucked up.”

Elis charges.