I scuttled up the wall of the chamber and watched intently while it cast several more icy Spells forcing the others to dodge or end up some variety of skewered, sliced or frozen. I remained where I was; [Gaze of Bane] would do its work while I observed. All the while, Kels and Angus took minor wounds from the icy magic. Dozens of different Spell effects flew forth from the Naga Shaman's staff. From the icicle-like spears we had already seen, to more spinning blades that hissed through the air. Small snowflakes that drifted through the air only to explode in a spray of crystalline ice.

  There was something to see here, I knew it. Then its tail bunched again, as its slit pupils shifted to track my location once more, preparing for another strike.

  On a gut feeling, I activated [All-Seeing Eye] and saw the way the mana flowed through its body. Flowed and built up in a specific area. The mana reached the naga's tail and built up along the way; the end of its tail practically glowed like a miniature sun with how much mana was being directed into it and condensed there.

  That had to be its [Lash] Skill. That explained why it had been able to hit me like a truck earlier, despite its comparatively lacking Strength Stat; the Skill was enhancing its raw impact and striking speed well beyond what its combination of stats would normally be capable of. This time, I wasn't caught unaware; I leapt early and cleanly avoided the strike. The naga's tail slammed into the wall where I had been perched fractions of a moment before and decimated the wall, shattering ice and stone alike. Shards and fragments of stone were sent flying through the air.

  I was ready for it this time. Despite the growing ache in my head, I cast an [Edge Glare], the familiar arc of force blasted out from my good eye, this time directed at the naga's tail as it passed underneath me. Where it wouldn't be able to reach with its staff. Not in time to stop it. The arc of force slammed into the scaled limb and sheared right through it, spraying blood into the air as if from a hose. Satisfaction warmed me when I saw the damage done. The bastard boss monster might be able to stop my Spells with its barrier, but it could handle them physically.

  The naga hissed violently and pointed its staff at me while I was still in the air. What came out of its staff was like a blizzard at mach three, web lines froze and shattered as I tried to drag myself out of its path. It was bitingly cold, so bitter I could feel it down to the depth of my body. It was as if someone had stripped me naked and shoved me out the door in the middle of a Siberian winter.

  A bolt of green lighting flung from the other side of the chamber struck the naga shaman directly in the eye at that moment and interrupted its cast. It reared back screeching and hissing as its free hand and staff clamped to its face as it writhed in agony. It seemed in its desire to get at me, it had forgotten that I was not alone. Even if I was the largest threat in the room, I was not the only one. The naga's hands came down, and its tongue flickered out, tasting the air.

  The boss's jaws snapped in my direction, its whole body leaning with the strike, tongue flicking over blueish white fangs as it levelled a hate-filled glare at me. I was already far out of its reach, having slipped out of range the moment Signe struck.

  The wave boss's next move was every bit as calculated as before—it swept its staff into a vertical guard and let out a wordless shriek, and instantly, the frost that carpeted the floor drew itself up into a barrier of jagged blue ice. I was already moving, both from habit and from the mounting instinct of being prey as much as predator; spider legs dug into the rock and launched me high, arcing over the wall of ice before the boss could finish its follow-up cast.

  I watched in mounting horror as the snake monster almost seemed to Tsk in disappointment when I escaped its attempt to trap me like a rat in a box. Then it reached out with its free hand to snatch up the portion of its tail I had sliced off only moments earlier with my [Edge Glare]. Taking up the severed section of its tail, it slammed it down on the bloodied stump. All we could do was watch in collective horror as frost spread over its scales and the tail began to move again, almost as if it had never been injured. There would be no way of knowing it had been injured at all but for the line of cut scales that ringed the area. If this thing could regenerate at that speed, this battle had become a few degrees more dire.

  In motion, I had a moment to appreciate how little time had passed since the beginning of the fight. Seconds, barely a minute at most. Every movement was a heartbeat. This made the speed of the naga's regeneration ability that much more terrifying. Signe loosed another blast of lightning—arcing around the ice wall as if it was barely there, hitting the naga shaman in the chest. The oversized serpent thrashed and howled in pain as the corrosive lightning went to work, spreading across the naga. In the throes of its pain, the naga's tail arced out and around, slamming directly into Angus, who had no time to defend himself. The large man was bodily hurled clear across the chamber like a missile to slam into the wall with a bone shattering crack, where he hung unmoving amongst the debris.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  Shaking off Signe's lightning, the naga turned its hate-filled gaze on the mage. A wave of its staff saw a dozen blades of ice spinning in her direction. Unable to evade the incoming projectiles, Signe conjured up a bright blue shield of mana, taking cover behind it. The blades slammed into her shield. The first of the whirling blades cracked the shield, sending cracks spider webbing across the half dome; the second and third blades shattered it completely. Several of the blades bit deeply into her shoulder, hip, and leg. The blades shredded cloth and flesh and forced her into a desperate, blood-slick roll out of the way to avoid death as the rest of the blades passed by. Signe shrieked in pain, but she kept moving, crawling for cover behind a chunk of broken basalt rubble.

  I hissed for real this time—not some theatrical monster roar, but a raw, animal sound at the sight of the man limp in the shattered wreckage and Signe wounded, forced to hide behind shattered rubble. Rage and adrenaline burned through me, scouring away the cold. I didn’t think; I simply leapt straight at the monster.

  I wasn’t going to lose again.

  Eight legs tucked in, coiled like springs before I launched myself off the naga's ice wall like a cannonball, aiming at the naga's upper body. I trusted that my mass and fangs could give me the opportunity to finish what our spells had started. I saw the staff whip up almost in slow motion; I could almost taste the blue crackle of a mana shield forming. That wasn't going to be something that I could allow. I wouldn't allow this monster to stop me here. I lashed out with a triple layer of [Edge Glare].

  The pressure in my skull was instant and excruciating—stars exploded across my vision and something hot spilled down my carapace from my two rightmost eyes—but the effect was worth it: the mana barrier shattered like a dropped wineglass even as it snapped into being, shards of blue energy raining down around the naga as they flickered out of existence. The other two arcs of force spiralled off course, but they dug deep furrows into the naga's arm and body in their passage that sprayed monster blood into the air.

  My legs punched through summoned ice as the naga tried desperately to armour itself against my onslaught. Frost armour wasn't enough to stop me, not right now. My fangs followed and punched through the naga's shattered defences, venom gushed forth from my fangs and into the naga's body, carrying an agonizing death with it. The naga hissed in rage and pain. I clung to it, digging my legs deeper into its chest cavity as it tried desperately to dislodge me. It battered at my body with its free hand and staff, but I refused to budge, digging deeper and deeper. I triggered [Venomous Strikes], dumping even more venom into its system as each of my spider limbs buried in its torso became an instrument of venom injection.

  The boss thrashed in growing desperation, hurling itself against the walls and floor in a desperate attempt to free itself from my grip. When it moved to smash me against the wall directly and splatter me like a bug, I obliged and dislodged myself. Several wet squelches accompanied as I ripped my limbs out of its flesh before leaping clear. The monster crashed into the wall hard enough to shake the entire chamber.

  The naga reeled. Jagged bursts of venom blackened its scales as it coiled and writhed on the floor, blue-black blood sluicing out from the cracks I'd made in its armour. Even as it spasmed, new frost already began to snake across the wounds, sealing and knitting and denying me the prize of its death by inches. The monster's will to survive was monstrous enough to match its Charisma. It didn't matter. I wasn't going to stop until it was dead, or I was.

  I hit the floor rolling, a black smear of ichor and fury. Vipera was already bursting from my chest, a blue-black whipcord blur as she sprang for the naga's face. The monster was still in the throes of post-venom agony, and that was all the window I needed. Eight legs clattered on the ice, the echoes lost in the basso screech of the naga's wounded hatred. I went for the staff first; it was the nucleus for all its magic. No staff, no magic. At least I hoped.

  Web lines snagged the staff, and I yanked with every fibre of my being. For a moment, it seemed I wasn't going to succeed, and then Vipera slammed directly into the monster's eye. The howl of agony it let out as it released its staff was like nothing I had ever heard before. It rattled the whole chamber and made me want to cover my ears, which I didn't even have. The staff wrenched free. I hurled it behind me, watched it bounce and spin end over end, showering a snow-smoke of frosty glitter as it tumbled across the stone. The Naga shrieked, a death-knell so sharp it stung the back of my teeth. Vipera's body lashed its face, her needle fangs plunging in and out with mechanical precision, and each strike left flecks of venom and blood on blue scales. I knew better than to hope it was dead. Regeneration like that meant a fight to the absolute end, maximum violence and no mercy.

  And unlike a spider born on earth, born for webs, tricks and traps.

  I was made for maximum violence.

  I pounced again, directly for the throat this time. I didn’t just sink the points of my forelegs into the boss’s neck—I drove them through, dragging deep furrows across the slick plates of its scales. The chitin tips found purchase between the loose, overstretched bands of muscle, and with all the rage and momentum I could muster, I locked my body in and wrenched sideways, determined not to let go until the monster’s head came free. Even as blood and venom poured down its chest in rivers, the naga’s body thrashed, lashing out with its claws and trying to wrap itself around me.

  The thing was strong—too strong for anything with a humanoid torso and a snake's body. Its arms snapped up, one hand grabbing for my nearest leg, the other clawing at Vipera, who still clung to its face like a mask of death. The monster's fangs flashed inches from my own eyes, a blur of blue ice and bloody saliva, but I didn't flinch. I kept digging away at the bastards neck. Its head was going to be mine.

  I felt my limbs meet bone and hissed victory as I buried my razor-sharp limbs in the naga's spine, prying it apart. The monster shuddered and went suddenly limp.

  I kept digging, splattering blood and venom everywhere. I couldn't risk the damn thing healing itself from the brink of death. Only a fool left an enemy lying behind him to get up and come back again later. A sickening Schlrrk and an abhorrent sucking noise preceded the naga's head tumbling free of its neck, falling to the ground with a deep thump.