Heavy Metal [ A Monster Evolution LitRPG ]

Chapter 95 – Defeated?

“The sacrifices are running away, stop them!”

“Kill everyone, slaughter them before they escape into the city.”

Rusty sprinted up the stairs as fast as his metallic body allowed him to. He could hear shouts and screams coming from above. The clamor of cultists and the pounding of boots above echoed down the spiraling stairway as Rusty charged upward. The chaos behind him spurred him to move faster, though his metallic joints strained under the pressure. Gleam clung to his back instead of his shoulder while trying to regain her mana for the battle ahead.

He had left the terrifying cultist high priest behind and was now attempting to free himself. His goal had never been to rescue these people or to oppose the strange cultists. Some of the people here seemed to have misunderstood his motives, but it wasn’t worth the effort to correct them. What he needed to do was escape this hell hole and leave the city overrun by humanoid creatures. Rusty just wanted to finally enjoy his freedom - something he couldn’t truly accomplish while his friend Gleam had been captured.

“( ó﹏ò )”

“Sorry, Gleam. I don’t have any more mana potions on me. Just rest for now; I’ll get us both out of here.”

After reassuring his partner, he noticed a faint light shining from above. The exit was there, and he wouldn’t let anyone stand in his way. During his trek up he had passed many of the injured prisoners, one of them being the priest. She had stopped climbing and instead started healing the people who were unable to ascend further. 

Rusty did not stop or even glance her way and instead kept his own well-being in mind. As he finnaly approached the exit he heard a person scream. A man who had been given one of his weapons had just been stabbed through his chest. He was in the process of being pushed down the secret exit but Rusty was right behind him. 

He threw his polearm, making it fly past the stabbed man’s shoulder and right between the eyes of the cult member that had just stabbed him. The polearm struck true, embedding itself deep into the skull of the cultist. The figure crumpled like a marionette with its strings cut, the force of the impact sending it sprawling backward. The wounded man, now free from the immediate threat, slumped against the stairwell wall, blood pooling at his feet. Rusty didn't spare him a second glance. He had no time to stop, no time to help.

Gleam, still clinging to Rusty’s back, glanced at the dead man for a moment. Her antennae wiggled briefly, but she lacked the mana for another healing spell. Without his healbard, Rusty switched to his sword and shield once more. Lowering his center of gravity, he activated a skill to increase his weight and charged forward. Another cultist stood in his path, but the man’s dagger merely bounced off Rusty’s metallic form as he barreled past and charged outside.

They finally emerged above ground, finding themselves in a seemingly deserted building that had been taken over by these strange people. However, after the secret exit mechanism had been triggered, more cultists appeared than they had encountered previously. Rusty had feigned death while being transported to this place, and Gleam had slipped past unnoticed. Neither of them had seen this many guards earlier, which suggested reinforcements had come from elsewhere. Even more might have been on their way so they needed to leave now. 

‘It seems they don’t want this place to be discovered. It’s probably going to be hard to get out of here… And what is that? They’ve kindly put up a lovely silencing barrier around the whole place, why isn’t that grand?’

Aburdon called out to Rusty in a somewhat mocking tone. The demon lord had always opposed the plan to rescue the other prisoners, and now he was gloating over the apparent failure. The silencing barrier shimmered faintly, barely visible to Rusty thanks to his mana-sensing skill. He had hoped that, once above ground, it would be easy to escape. Even though it was still nighttime, his plan had relied on chaos - prisoners shouting and running would have forced the city guards to intervene. Now, however, things looked grim. More cultists had gathered in the area, some wearing heavy armor, while others were armed with bows, loosing arrows in Rusty's direction.

“Gleam, stay on my back!” 

“(＞﹏＜)”

He raised his shield to protect his head as several arrows flew toward him. Most bounced harmlessly off his armor, but a few left scratches and even small dents. He had already burned through many of his metal reserves and was running low on sp. Switching to other loadouts and repairing himself would soon not be possible. 

The cultists appeared from all sides, some charging at him with spears others shooting arrows. It was quite difficult to progress forward, his back against the entrance in an attempt to shield Gleam from harm.  After identifying the archers and bouncing a few arrows back he decided to sprint forward. To his dismay he was intercepted by two armored men, both holding large tower shields that he couldn’t push against. 

It reminded him of the adventurers, where the heavily armored warriors would keep monsters at bay while the archers pelted them from a distance. That’s exactly what the cultists were doing to him - shield-bearers advancing in unison, using their bulk to push him back, while the archers continued to rain arrows on his body. Slowly, the damage started to accumulate and he needed to do something. He glanced to the sides. If he ran now, there was a high chance Gleam would get hit, something he was trying to avoid. 

‘Should I switch out and make a break for it?’Nôv(el)B\\jnn

He wondered if he should use SP for a last-effort loadout change. In his larger form, he could let Gleam enter his body, where she would be relatively safe. However, there were people behind him. If he did that, it would be obvious he was a monster, and he could end up being hunted by both sides. 

“Kill them all, use the fire bombs!”

Before he could decide, one of the cultists shouted from the side. In his hand, he held a vial containing a red liquid. Rusty had been in this city long enough to know exactly what it was - and what would happen if he was hit by it. If that potion struck him, Gleam would be in serious trouble. However, Rusty wasn’t truly alone in this struggle. Despite Aburdon’s complaints about the plan, he had still managed to gather some allies through it.

An arrow shot out from behind him, striking the cultist’s wrist just as he was about to throw the fire potion. The vial slipped from the man’s grasp, shattering on the ground and setting the cultist on fire. Layla had finally climbed up and joined the fight. She wasn’t alone, either - four more armed allies emerged through the opening, with the elven healer close behind them. Their wounds were mostly healed now, and they were ready for battle.

“Bastards! Die!”

The cultists surged forward as chaos erupted, but Rusty stood firm, heartened by the reinforcements at his side. The clash above ground escalated into a chaotic melee. Layla, alongside the newly armed and reinvigorated prisoners, fought ferociously. Her arrows flew with pinpoint accuracy, injuring cultists from a distance. Meanwhile, the others, wielding weapons forged by Rusty, charged into the fray with desperation and fury.

Rusty, now surrounded by both friend and foe, knew it was time to make a bold move. While everyone else fought for their lives, he needed to escape. This had gone on for far too long, and now it was every man for himself. But a shield-bearer stood directly in his path, blocking his way. Despite several attempts, Rusty couldn’t force the man aside or break through his guard to make a run for it. These cultists were surprisingly well-trained, holding their formation with strange discipline.

What unsettled Rusty most, though, was the look in their eyes. They fought with a strange, almost frantic desperation - not as though they were afraid of losing to their immediate opponents, but as if they feared something far worse than the battle at hand. The cultists fought with a maddened fervor, shouting praises to their Lord of Blood even as they bled out on the ground. They seemed unstoppable, driven by a force that defied comprehension. Yet, amidst the chaos, Rusty’s mind was clear and he pushed on. 

Now facing just one opponent, Rusty decided to go all out. He activated his Fury skill, followed by Fortify Armor and Weight Control. His MP plummeted dangerously close to depletion, but this was his final gambit. If he didn’t break free now, he never would.

With his enhanced strength, resistance, and sheer weight, Rusty slammed into the shield-bearer like an unstoppable force. The impact was devastating. The shield-bearer was hurled to the side, his heavy shield spinning through the air, torn from his grasp. Rusty didn’t pause to savor his victory - he surged forward, barreling straight into the group of archers who had been tormenting him earlier.

The archers scrambled to aim at his vulnerable joints and weak points in his armor, but their efforts were futile. Rusty was no human but a living armor; he was a monster. Bolstered by his skills, arrows that found their mark barely slowed him. Only a direct hit to his core could stop him now, and Rusty had no intention of letting that happen.

“S-Stop hi—agh…”

One of the archers was struck by Rusty’s shield and slammed into a nearby wall. The impact shattered his ribcage, and blood poured from his mouth as he collapsed lifelessly to the ground. This was it. Rusty had blasted through everyone standing in his way, and now the exit from this hellhole was finally in sight. Shouts echoed behind him, but he paid them no mind. As long as Gleam was with him, there was no reason to look back. Freedom was just within reach, and soon, they would both be free.

Rusty burst through the final barrier of cultists, his shield clanging as he deflected desperate strikes aimed at stopping him. The cool night air hit his frame as he emerged from the abandoned building. He was now outside and freedom was at his metallic fingertips. However, his relief was short-lived. While the chase behind him was ongoing another force blocked his escape.

They emerged through the soundproof barrier - men clad in heavy armor, similar in design to his own but far thicker and more robust. Their metallic frames glistened in the moonlight, the silvery surfaces reflecting faintly, eerily reminiscent of Gleam’s carapace. Each carried identical equipment: a large oval shield in their left hand and a longsword in their right. The shields bore an engraved figure - perhaps a deity - whose identity tugged at the edge of his memory, though he couldn’t quite place it.

“Oh no, this might be bad… Rusty, it might be better to retreat…”

“Retreat, now?”

Aburdon muttered, eyeing the well-armored troops steadily approaching. At a glance, they were far stronger than the cultist group they had encountered earlier, and their numbers seemed overwhelming. With a quick sweep of his surroundings, his skill confirmed the grim reality - they were surrounding the entire building, cutting off any chance of escape. His heart sank as he stepped back toward the entrance he had just used, where the sounds of fighting still raged.

“Rusty, we have to escape somehow! Don’t let those silver zealots catch you - if they get too close, they’ll surely discover the possession skill, and it’ll be over for both of us!”

He was not sure what this was about but those people looked awfully similar to the descriptions of paladins that he heard about. In this world, there were multiple gods, good and evil. Perhaps the lair of these evil god worshipers had been already found and they had been planning to raid it all along. 

Rusty's gears whirred as he processed the situation. The so-called paladins were closing in, their movements coordinated, their shining armor unmarred by the grime and chaos of the battle he had just escaped. Between the cultists' desperate frenzies and these disciplined warriors, his chances of survival seemed to be rapidly dwindling.

Just then, a tremendous explosion echoed from within the building. A blast of crimson light surged out, breaking through the soundproof barrier and coloring the sky red. Everyone that was in the immediate vicinity was sent flying to the sides. The secret stairs leading down into the air were blasted upwards with the pillar which they dissolved into ashes.

From within this crimson pillar of energy, a lone man rose. He was floating, robes fluttering in the evil slaughter energies his god imbued him with. It was the high priest Rusty had left behind. His tattered robes were now mended by the pulsing energy that surrounded him, a malevolent crimson aura crackling with raw power. The high priest’s eyes glowed like twin blood moons, and his voice boomed across the battlefield, filled with divine wrath.

The pressure emanating from this being was truly tremendous. Rusty didn’t know what he was looking at and had never encountered a creature with such overwhelming power before. His gaze was drawn to what the high priest held in his left hand: the severed head of the warrior Rusty had previously helped. The man who was seemingly a berserker was quite strong. If that man hadn’t stood a chance, Rusty realized, then he wouldn’t fare any better.

The cultists who remained alive dropped to their knees, chanting fervently. The paladins, unfazed by the display of power, took formation, their shields locking together as they advanced. Rusty knew better than to admire the spectacle. The priest’s ascension was no blessing - it was a death sentence for everyone present.

“Rusty!”

“I know!”

Aburdon urged him to hide, but there was nowhere to go. The paladins were dangerous, but the high priest was on an entirely different level. The crimson energy radiating from him distorted the air, warping the surroundings. Dark bolts of energy crackled, unleashing enough force to instantly vaporize the building’s structure. It was clear this place wouldn’t hold much longer, and staying here was a death sentence. But how could he possibly escape?

 "Form the barrier! Stay in formation! Contain the heretic!"

A shimmering golden dome began to materialize around the area, a divine barrier meant to suppress unholy power. The high priest laughed mockingly, raising his hand to unleash a barrage of energy blasts. Each strike shook the earth, sending shockwaves that shattered nearby walls and tossed cultists and paladins alike into the air and even the previously imprisoned innocents.

“N-no!”

Layla cried out from the side as a bolt of energy hurtled toward her, but to her surprise, someone stepped in front to shield her. For a brief moment, she noticed an ant perched on the man’s back before the energy bolt struck. The impact sent him flying through the air, his body twisting at unnatural angles as he was flung away...

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