Death's Disciple [Sys Apoc, OP Villain MC, LitRPG] Chapter 32: 1.32 Franken-Bot

Read chapter 32 of Death's Disciple [Sys Apoc, OP Villain MC, LitRPG] by TTReynolds on NovelPedia.

1.32 Franken-Bot [Skill, Marked to Die, Failed] I didn’t need the notification from the System to know that the skill had failed. Normally when I mentally activated my skill, there was feedback as it latched on to my target, the silvery thread connecting myself to them coming into existence. This time, the skill felt as if it reached forward and made an attempt to grab on to the Golem, but slipped off the figure instead, like so much smoke swirling around a statue. Is it because it’s not alive? It made sense, as I already knew I couldn’t use the skill on objects or equipment. So artificial creatures, golems, constructs, didn’t seem to be affected by my skill either. “Is it… killing its creator?” Huwett whispered. Once she said it, the area did have those Dr. Frankenstein sort of vibes going on and I couldn’t un-see it. It looked like the System was an enjoyer of the Earth classics, and was doing its own rendition by making us fight Franken-bot. Can’t anything just be a little normal? What happened to kobolds and zombies? The basic dungeon fights? I sighed quietly and shook my head. “It’s for sure the thing we gotta kill though, lets do it,” Francis said from over my shoulder. The large warrior brought out his axe and already began to step out from the machinery we hid behind. “Francis wait, Francis,” Barry hissed at his back. But he continued walking, unfazed by Barry’s protests. As he stepped from the shadows, the Golem suddenly stopped its activity of making human-mud pie and turned towards him. “Come on then clanky,” he waved his axe in a come-hither motion in front of his chest, “let’s see how you handle yourself.” There was a loud whirring noise as the Golem stood upright and began it charge. It moved far faster than Francis probably anticipated, as the construct struck him in the chest with a shoulder charge before he was able to defend. Francis was tossed off his feet and his back impacted the large geared machine behind him. To his credit, he managed to stay standing on his feet, and maintain his grip on his axe. Still, the idiot was in trouble, and he needed to be saved, again. “Let’s go,” I muttered, running out into the open with sword in hand. Barry followed close on my heels, Norton after that, while as always Vasquez and Huwett remained behind. The golem had closed on Francis already and had started to wind up a punch. I slipped in between them quickly enough to bring up my weapon and catch the large metal first on my blade to deflect it away. The strength behind the blow felt substantial, high forties at minimum, which meant I had to put on a show of having my block flung to the side and stumble a step to the left. Barry took my spot, using his shield to block the next hit. The golem’s fist rang against the face of his shield like a bell-toll, and the paladin grunted audibly. Perhaps the construct was even stronger than I thought. Did my vitality help me in handling the blow? Perhaps that was the case. I’d need to be more careful. Arrows peppered the side of Franken-bots body, each pinging loudly against its surface, but leaving not a single visible mark. Bolts of flame struck next, creating pops of flames then didn’t even look to heat the metal of the golem. “It’s armor is too tough,” Huwett yelled out, “If we use our skills, you guys might get hit. This area is too small.” And she was right on both accounts. Their basic attacks didn’t do much of anything to the golem at all. And the lab area was cluttered and restrictive when it came to battlefields. Too much machinery and equipment was laying about, making it difficult to gain distance or maneuver. “Hold on, let us try,” Barry replied. He took another punch on his shield and countered after with a strong swift of his longsword, the weapon sparking off the construct and rebounding back. At the same moment, I lunged forward, thrusting the tip of my weapon at a joint in its arm. My sword caught between the two plates of metal, doing nothing and forcing me to wre