"WHAT IN GODSES TARNATION HAPPENED?!" he shouted, not angrily, just in exasperation.

  Obviously, neither Jie nor Whiskey knew. Though Simulacrum chimed in: "Although your grenades are powerful tools against automotron forces, they were not designed to target fae-constructs. As shrapnel-oriented weapons, they will have limited effectiveness against assemblage-creatures."

  Everyone disliked that and groaned excessively. "FINE!" Zan said, more childishly than he ought to have let himself be heard.

  He calmed himself and looked back to the room. "Whiskey," he asked. "How many fae remain, you think?" His headset provided only limited guesses.

  "My eyes count... well, we destroyed two of them, it looks? Both of the Fatal Grazes which were on the corners of the support beam were destroyed. The combat drone on the right, there? It looks injured. The rest looks fine."

  "Better than nothing, I guess. Shall we lob more grenades and hope for the best or wade back in? Shet! The Combat Done is coming for us -- Whiskey- shoot it! Jiehong, charge and I will take it from the side while you have it engaged!" he said, his teammates following his orders right away.

  Whiskey's arrow bolted straight through the side of the drone's 'head,' and unbalanced it long enough for Jiehong's body -- supported by his mildly protective cage -- to slam into the drone and toss it to the floor. Unexpected as its fall was -- Zan was planning on skewering the drone -- Jiehong took the initiative instead and heaved his axe to its chest. Or would have! Had the drone not somehow rolled or shifted its body ever so slightly, thus allowing it to evade the killing blow.

  "You have this one, it looks! I am going for that Space-Filler on the far-side," he said to Jie, who grunted his acknowledgement.

  He dashed toward the Space-Filler, trusting Jie and Whiskey could handle the Combat Drone already on its last legs. Although the Space-Filler repeated its 'tackle' move, this time, he reacted quickly enough to side-step its blow. He felt pretty cool while doing it, too.

  Seeing his opening, he jabbed his blade as he wanted to against the Combat Drone. This Space-Filler was composed principally, if its looks were anything to go by, of rusty flooring tiles and simple magical components. It managed to withstand his assault but leaked strange blood-like fluid from an internal element through one of its newly formed wounds. Not letting it gain any breath -- literal or otherwise -- he set fire to his sword using magic and kicked and hacked at the fae with every bit of brutality he could muster.

  Seeing its movements stop, a whiff of magical decay then exploded upward like a mass of fungus on a tomato vine bursting. "This one's dead and gone!" he shouted.

  He turned back to the battle at hand just to his side. He saw the drone Jiehong had engaged unmoving on the floor, magical energies flowing up and away from its destroyed body. He had been victorious then, excellent!

  "Second Combat Drone on approach!" Whiskey said, leaving her position in the doorway and angling through the data slab area to avoid the oncoming drone.

  "Shet!" Jie uttered. "There's an Unfun Gas ahead along with a Fatal Graze to the corner. Both can't exactly move much on their own. It's the Combat Drone we're worried about, right? If we don't watch our footing, we're going to become easy prey for those two immobile fae constructs. So, what should we do, Zan?"

  Knowing they only had so much room to maneuver considering their tight quarters as well as the Screen Master's desire to not see the data slabs damaged, he knew they were now caught between a rock and a hard place. The incoming Combat Drone blocked their escape route. The way around to the other side of the room was infested. They would need to confront the drone and knock it out before it pushed them into the Unfun Gas and the Fatal Graze. If they couldn't defeat it by then, their lives would be at risk.

  But he wasn't going to let that happen. "Jiehong. Bear your shield and keep that enemy occupied. Defeat it while Whiskey and I handle the Unfun Gas. Can you do that?"

  "Of course I can brother!" he yelled, pumping himself up, before he aggressively advanced toward the Combat Drone, shield at the ready, and blocking its first blow as though it was the easiest thing in the world.

  "Whiskey. Light flame magic to your arrows," he ordered. She obeyed.

  "Where do you want me to shoot the Unfun Gast? I think where it has manifested within the support column would be a good target," she suggested.

  Looking at the area Whiskey pointed out, he had to force himself to focus. The grunting and clanging sounds of Jiehong taking drone blows as well as dishing them out nearly drove him to become an anxious mess, worrying over his safety. He looked at where Whiskey indicated: to him, it looked highly likely to be one-in-the-same with where he thought its 'heart' must be, insomuch fae-constructs had a central-most weak point, which they didn't: but they had only fought one such Unfun Gas before, so he had limited experience to go on. "Fire at the crack! Let's see what this does!"

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  Whiskey fired her arrow and though it hit true, the flames had a limited effect. He should've known, considering how last time he fought it, he had to use water-based magics on it. Not fire. 'It seems like all fire should be able to kill something, magical or not,' he shouted at himself. 'I need to break out of this binary! If something has a magic-type resistance, then that's it, fire or no, it's not going to have an effect!'

  He needed to pivot. Fire magic didn't work. Grenades didn't work, not really, and were mostly impractical given the space anyway. "Do we have any water?" he asked Whiskey.

  "Some, yeah! Here!" she replied, tossing him the two water containers and dumping another with several mighty swings, anticipating his need.

  "Thanks! It's almost like you can read my mind," he said, kidding, of course, but still wondering at the back of his head if Whiskey could read his mind. He figured she would've mentioned any ability to read minds. Yet-- back to the situation at hand, me! Focus!

  Already on his knees despite his internal tick having trouble ticking, he held the two water bottles in front of him and squeezed with all of his might. The water flew from the bottles and landed all over between the floor and the creature and wall. He channeled his magic into his palms, then -- No, he thought, it isn't my palms. It's my arms! He redirected his magic. He had never attempted before now to re-direct magic from one part of his body to another; then again, until recently, he had not known he could channel magic to any point other than his palm. He hadn't even known it was possible to channel to places outside of his palm! No one ever talked about it...

  With the magic flowing into his arms, he tried his best to relieve the tension in his arms, as the guidebook Whiskey had read to him called for. He thought of healing properties, de-cluttering his mind. The softness of the early twilight.

  He unleashed his buildup. It entered the water and careened through the water's surface refracting light from the energy. For a brief moment, the room illuminated with colorful hues, before, like previously, their efforts resulted in one nearly destroyed fae.

  "Looks like it is badly wounded. Help me dump this water," he said, already readying another attack. He unlatched the lids and tossed the rest of the water onto the floor and wall.

  "Hurry! Looks like Jie is getting pushed back! Jie!" Whiskey said, at first, to Zan, and then to Jie. "Get aggressive! Defeat it! Don't just pussyfoot with it!"

  Not taking too kindly to Whiskey's impatience, Jiehong spat back -- "I'm doing my best, Whiskey! Help me!"

  Not paying attention to if their conversation continued anymore, he heard the whoop of Whiskey's arrow unfurl and smack into and through the Combat Drone... or something... he did not know for sure as he knelt and channeled energy into his arm. He found it hard, this time, to clear his mind. The fusion of stress, pressure, but having, weirdly enough, a little bit of breathing room thanks to Jiehong's defense, combined to make his head cluttered once again. he unleashed his magic, and it hurt the fae, yet it remained clinging to life. He channeled magic and tried again, this second time, killing the lifeless creature with his unpracticed incantation.

  His System gave him an alert regarding his low magic use. 'Did I really use so much magic?' he thought. He didn't want to admit it, because it seemed unfair, but he knew the headset was right. His magic use, although limited, had been frayed. He panicked and channeled overly quickly and with too much output force. He retained some magic, though. He had to use it very carefully, however.

  With the Unfun Gas exterminated, and the Fatal Graze still locked into the corner of the pillar, barely ahead, but far enough for its moldy edges to not affect them with hurtful and dizzying effects, the only true enemy left was the final Combat Drone. Which Jiehong soon dispatched with a twin set of blows from his axe -- power slash to the right, then power slash back left. He repeated the motion twice and finished the construct off with a final crushing blow to its head.

  "Feck. Harder than I thought it would be -- it might look slow but whatever that thing uses as a melee weapon can pack a punch. It seriously kept me rooted to my position just enduring blow-after-blow!" Jiehong said.

  "It's okay, Jie! You held it off for us, that's what's important. But we still have three enemies left as part of this network. How do we destroy a couple of Fatal Gazes which looks like have totally colonized that part of the support beam? And then this other Unfun Gas? We don't have any more water. We know fire won't work on it. Should we just chuck a couple of grenades at it?" he asked.

  Jiehong took appraisal of the situation and came up with the following: "Let's not overcomplicate it. Our way out of this room is open. We know there are no additional fae in the bunker since we have cleaned it out. How about we just go and fetch some water from outside real quick?"

  "That sounds good! Why didn't I think of that!" Zan said, laughing for the first time that day.

  Whiskey offered to go and fetch the water. He said he would go and get it, though. Ostentatiously, because he was the leader, but really because he wanted to stretch his legs after the 'intense' part of the battle. To help his jitters, he liked to walk, to pace. Doing so now, and quickly combing his path through the bunker, he felt already more at ease. He went to the closest source of water, a large puddle near a pond, and filled his container with the clear and refreshing looking water.

  Back at the bunker, he went as close as he dared to the Unfun Gas on the other side of the room and doused it with liquid. He repeated the channeling process. Although he had very little magic in him, and the Slipstream had been nowhere in sight outside, without the danger of the Combat Drones or Space-Fillers, he had time to --

  'Wait!' he realized while on his knees, about to channel the remainder of his magic. 'There had been two Space-Fillers, wasn't there? Where was--"

  WHAMP!