Sand and chips of dried cy explode upward as the monster erupts from the earth. Long, spindly vines of cacti crawl from the opening like feelers on an i.

  Okay, so, looks like Hans might not have been totally off his rocker after all. If I could hear the approach of a giant, underground, se cactus monster whispering murderous threats as it sped our way, maybe I would have been freaking out, too.

  A spiudded viabs in my dire, and I stumble baarrowly avoiding being turned into a human pincushion. Er. Dhampyr pincushion? I’m not given a moment to sider this as more feelers race over the ground, all of them ing for me and Hans.

  I take one look at the swarm of crawling cacti, then turn tail and run.

  So, not the most heroic move. It’s definitely not my io leave Hans to a spindly death. But there’s nothing I do against this creature barehanded; which means the first step is to arm myself.

  As I dash out of the cactus monster’s range, I run past one of the bodies that litter the field. Most have hints of some kind of armor on them, and some of them… there! I dive for the hilt of a sword and yank the on from the sand as I spin to face the cactus.

  I test the weight of the bde as vines race toward me, grimag as I he rust and nicks along the edge of my sword. Hopefully that won’t stop it from cutting through some pnts. I’ve never used a sword before, but how hard it be to swing a sharp implement around?

  I quickly find out. One of the feelers spears toward my feet, and I sidestep the vine, chopping the sword into the ground. Sand sprays into the air as a result, some of it ending up in my eyes and lungs, which causes me to start hag untrolbly.

  [6 points of Sshing damage dealt,] Echo reports.

  Great start, I sarcastically think to myself. But at least I mao cut through the cactus. And the damage report is iing. It’s like a game or something—only this feels all too real.

  The severed limb sits i o me, leaking a clear juito the sand. I might have actually overdo with the chopping. Looks like these things don’t hat much force to cut through them. All the better for me.

  Spitting grit and blinking the sand out of my eyes, I quickly locate Hans—an endeavor made easy from all his screaming. One of the vines is ed around his leg, and it’s dragging him back toward its main stalk. I don’t know what it intends to do with the man once he gets there, but I think ‘nothing good’ is a fairly safe assumption. I charge in his dire.

  More vines e for me as I run, and I hack them apart without breaking stride. Notifications pop up as I do, Echo rep, [4 points of Sshing damage dealt. 6 points of Sshing damage dealt. 3 points of Sshing damage dealt,] as I cut each of them to pieces. It’s kind of fun, actually. I love how powerful I feel with each swing of the sword. I love how I feel like I’m doing something. Proteg someone. Maybe it’s just the adrenalialking, but I could get used to a high like this.

  I skid up o Hans, sshing through the thick vihat’s ed around his leg. The cactus monster squeals in protest, its injured limb whipping away, as I grab Hans and haul him to his feet.

  “e on,” I tell him. “We o get out of here.”

  He tries to take a step after me, but his leg crumples. “I ’t,” he gasps. “It hurts!”

  I gnce skeptically down at his leg, and find the severed vine is still ed around him. I grab the loose end and pull, which causes Hans to scream and a strange smell to hit my ’s sweet with a coppery tang, and instantly makes my mouth water. My stomach turns a moment ter when I notice the rivulets of blood running down Hans’s leg and I realize where the smell is ing from.

  Dozens of finger-long cactus spines are embedded in Hans’s calf, which is why the severed viill hasn’t fallen away. I swear, one-handedly swinging my sword to cut through more ining attacks, then hoist Hans’s arm over my shoulder and begin dragging him away. He cries out as I do, but he’ll just have to bear it, or we’ll both end up shish-kabobbed.

  When we’re finally far enough away from the main stalk, I unceremoniously drop Hans to the side, then turn back to face the cactus. Maybe if I keep chopping off every vi sends my way, it won’t have ao attack me with. Even as I think that, a dozen more stalks erupt from the ground and begin crawling over the sand.

  I sigh. “You gotta be kidding me.”

  Our one saving grace is that the pnt isn’t only targeting Hans and I. It’s also grabbing the skeletons half buried in the sand, attempting t their crumbling remains back toward its ter. That might mean it’s a sger of some kind. If it’s just as ied in the bodies as us, then we have an opportunity to escape and leave it to the bones.

  “Think you make it to the top of the slope?” I ask Hans, still keeping an eye on the cactus monster. “If we make it up there, it might not follow.”

  He only groans in response. Was the injury worse than it looked? I spare a gnce down at him, w what’s wrong.

  [Check,] Echo says, answering my unasked question. [HP: 113/135. Status Effect: Sanity Loss.]

  “Sanity Loss?” I repeat, armed. Sure enough, the man is groaning, rog slightly bad forth as he clutches his head. “Why? What’s causing that?”

  [Failure to adhere to the user’s Role Requirement may result in a decreased Sanity stat.]

  “What the hell?” Whatever happens, I o make sure I don’t end up the same as him. But first thing’s first. I have to take care of this—

  Stabbing pain spikes through my ankle as I’m yanked from my feet.

  [7 points of Pierg damage sustained.]

  The sword is flung from my hand as I strike the ground. I lunge for it, but aug on my leg pulls me away, and I grab only a fistful of sand. I scream through ched teeth as excruciating pain radiates up my leg with each tug, and I roll over onto my bad kick at the vih my free foot. A bloody spine protrudes from my ankle, and my stomach lurches at the sight. Fog instead on the vine, I grind the heel of my boot into the pnt, and succeed in breaking open its flesh. More watery liquid spills out, and with a final sm of my boot, I break all the way through. I hiss in pain as I drag my injured leg back toward me, struggling to cw my way through the sand and away from the monster. I leave drops of blood in my wake, and the smell once again prickles my nose in a way I only describe as delicious.

  This is so messed up.

  I groan as I try to peel the vine away, each tiny shift sending fresh nces of pain up my leg. I ’t get anywhere with this thing stig out of me. Shit, no wonder Hans was screaming. But as damn painful as it is, at least it didn’t hit any vital ans, and I’m in no danger of bleeding out.

  “Do it fast,” I growl to myself, grinding my teeth as sand ches between them. “Like a bandaid. Quick—”

  I yank the spi of my leg and scream again, throwing the spine uselessly back toward the monster.

  “Screw you,” I seethe as blood oozes from my wound. I cmp my hands around it, but the pain has already lessened, and when I roll my a aches, but there’s no new nces of pain. “Screw you, you stupid meat-eating… pnt.” Okay, not my best insult. But it’s a little hard to e up with something snappy when you’re in pain and fighting for your life. “Now you’ve do.”

  I struggle to my feet, testing my weight on my injured leg, and find it support me just fine. I thought it was worse than this, holy. Maybe it wasn’t as deep as I thought?

  [Health Regeion Rate: 1 HP per minute.]

  Woah. I’ll heal automatically? ’s still ag pretty bad, but at this rate I’ll be healed up in another couple minutes—assuming I survive them. That cactus monster o be taken down. Now, it’s personal.

  More of the cacti feelers are crawling in my dire, so I limp quickly away, looking for my sword. I catch sight of it half covered in sand a doze away, though a wisting vine is between me and it. No matter. It’s not the only discarded on in the crater.

  Quickly cheg Hans is still out of vine range first, I jog-limp away to the body. The skeleton’s clothes are full of holes, and its armor and bones fall to pieces when I try to tug part of it out of the sand. If there’s a sword strapped to its waist, it’s buried, and I don’t have time to go digging.

  A glint of metal catches my eye, and I limp-ruo it . The er of something pointy is stig out of the sand. I grab the edge and pull. The item shifts, but it’s heavier than I expected. I take hold of the metal with both hands, then haul it up with everything I’ve got.

  I go staggering back as the shield es free from the sand. It’s enormous—as big as me—and patterned with a wicked design of fangs and cws. Red stones glint within the dark metal like eyes, and an impression of teeth are engraved at its ter. Holy, pretty damn cool looking. But it’s not a sword, and while a shield certainly doesn’t hurt, this one is definitely of the two-handed variety.

  At the very least, maybe I set it up in front of Hans to buy us some time. I dash back over to Hans, finding the shield lighter than expected—or maybe I’m just strohan I’m used to—and the ache in my leg lessening with every passing moment. One of the cactus’s feelers is creeping toward Hans even as I arrive, and I sm the shield down on its limb, severing the vine as I lodge the shield in pce. So not totally useless as a o.

  “Okay,” I say, gripping the edge of the shield as I look around for the avaible on. “If I were a sword, where would I…”

  Something moves at the edge of my mind. I flinch, looking wildly around for the source of the deeply uliion I just experienced. What was that? Was it really in my head? Maybe I caught something in the er of my eye—

  The sensation happens again, and this time, it’s apanied by more crete thoughts. A mind yawning into my own, stretg out like a cat waking up from a nap.

  Blood. It tastes blood.

  A faint light appears within the rubies on the surface of the shield. Spiraling out from the stones, red lines glimmer to life along its surface, trag the carvings of teeth and cws etched into its face. My bloody fingerprints, which cover the shield where I’d been holding onto it, abruptly vanish as if absorbed into the metal itself.

  [Boablished,] Echo says.

  I snatch my hand away, taking an armed step back. What the hell? I mean, I know the demonic design probably should have clued me in to its suspicious nature, but how was I supposed to know it was literally possessed?

  Even though I’m no looug it, I still feel it in my mind. It’s looking about curiously, taking in our surroundings. It notices me, and more specifically, it notices the open wound on my ankle.

  Blood. It needs more!

  “Uhhhh, yeah, no thanks,” I say, bag further away. Unfortunately, that leaves Hans right o it. The shield notices him, tood dammit.

  I dart ba, grabbing Hans and hoisting him up by his shoulders, then give the creepy shield a kick food measure, intending to unch it away from the both of us.

  As it turns out, this was kind of a dumb move.