-Atherinon, Taker of Secrets
Out there in the chamber, the last termites are cut down. I sit on the rise with Jor’Mari, watching as a group of eight adventurers corral the last monster, cutting down the others as they push it into isolation. The culling of the last monster takes some time, each of the eight taking turns moving in, seeing how long they can dodge the monster’s wild attacks before being forced away.
A lot of us watch the spectacle, recovering from the exhaustion of the battle, the last of our enemy being tormented out on the field among the other dead termites. It goes on for a while, several handfuls of coins being exchanged as bets are collected. Finally, at the shout of our leader on the incline, a man with a warpick steps forward and proceeds to beat the monster into the dirt. At last, the chamber stills, and the army breathes a collective sigh.
Iona Nepsin approaches me after a few minutes of quiet. The elven woman is exactly what I imagine an elven noble to be, all cold beauty and dispassion. She even seems to choke on a bit of disdain as she looks down at me. A perfect representation of elven nobility.
“You are Ms. Devardem, yes?” she asks.
“That’s right.”
Glancing to the side, I find Jor’Mari sitting next to me. He is far more tired than he lets on; exhaustion always overtaxes him. It must be hard to be such a brilliant force of destruction. He feigns readiness, hiding the trembling in his hands beneath the fabric of his robes. Of the two of us, you would guess he was more ready to fight, his clothes aren’t decorated with his blood after all. You would be wrong through, an hour and a half of rest is far more than I need.
Pulling myself from the ground, I feel my vertebrae pop as my back straightens. This elven woman looks far less scary when she has to strain her neck to meet my eyes. “Can I do something for you?”
“We’ve destroyed the central chamber, the force of this hive,” Iona says, turning and looking out at the carnage. “Illigar’s orders were to return to him when the hive was destroyed.”
“There is a chamber below this one,” I say. “Filled with eggs, thousands of them. Didn’t Dovik tell you?”
The woman looks at me out of the corner of her eye before turning her gaze back to the battlefield. “I heard. A room full of eggs is not a part of the hive’s power, wouldn’t you say? We are only taking a handful of days to rid ourselves of these termite mounds. Cleaning up the eggs can wait. Now, have you recovered enough to disenchant the battlefield? I can bolster you if you require it.”
“No need,” I tell her. A soft inhale fills my lungs, pushing away unnecessary thought. When next I open my eyes, I am centered.
A wave of red rolls off my skin, spreading throughout the whole of the massive chamber, overlapping with the aura of several others and stretching far away. Few in the army have an aura so far-reaching as my own; all of ours are relatively weak due to that fact, it would seem. The green already permeating the chamber, the soul presence of one in the army that helped everyone see perfectly in the total darkness of the main chamber, is overtaken by my aura.
I feel it all, the slow dripping of ichor from the wounds of our enemy, the twitching of dead limbs out there on the field, but that isn’t all. I feel the setup around the cave entrance as well, adventurers exhausted from almost two hours of fighting, the smell of food and the warmth of brewing coffee, the empty space where three bodies lay beneath red and white sheets near the mouth of the tunnel. Everything is there in a single instant, and for once, my head doesn’t complain. A spark of my attention runs along the boundary line of my soul, connecting to that first piece of magic I ever integrated, triggering the power most native to me.
Throughout the battlefield, the bodies of hundreds of monsters ripple away into pink smoke, snaking together into the air to form sinister clouds. The smoke coalesces, spinning like a tornado with my forehead at the tip of its tail. As I sag from the huge expenditure of mana, I feel it, the essence of these creatures flowing into me, condensing into material to fuel me. It is by far the largest act of disenchantment that I have ever done, but instead of feeling taxed, another emotion appears from that part of my soul given over to gold. More, it wants more.
An instant scours through my body like a bolt of lightning. Pressure like that of a covetous god lances through me, vanishing as soon as I can notice it. Then I am back to myself, breathing slowly in the last dregs of pink smoke, straightening my back as I pull red hair out of my eyes.
“A big meal,” I say.
“You missed something,” Iona says, pointing out toward the center of the chamber. The huge green egg still sits upon a tower of meat.
“Those huge bugs from before were called royal guardians, the white and gold ones.” Iona quirks an eyebrow at my words, but I go on. “One guess at what they were guarding.”
“So, a little royal living inside that thing, does it?” Iona says. “These bug monsters seem to share their appearance with a similar insect species that lives on a continent to the far west. At least, that is what Illigar claims. He also said that such insects have a queen and king for their species. We figured that those would reside inside the northern hive if these monsters were thorough enough in their aping of real creatures. With what you say, likely either a queen or a king is to be born from that egg. It could be valuable.”
“I thought monsters couldn’t reproduce,” I say. “All the eggs in this hive paint a different story.”
“Monsters capable of reproduction are rare,” Iona says. “They are culled quickly by people when they pop up, but if you were to visit the more remote places of the world, places where no living person has tread for eons, likely you would find such creatures at the top of the food chain.” She turns away from me, getting the attention of someone nearby, sending them off to gather a small group. “We will take a closer look.”
The woman makes no complaint as I join her entourage. I am satisfied to find Jess and Dovik walking along with me as we make for the center of the chamber. Closer to the pile of meat in the middle of the chamber, it is easier to tell that the strips of flesh come from termites instead of other living creatures. The ease that revelation offers is somewhat muted by the sour smell and the buzzing of flies.
I opt to fly rather than tread on the pile of viscera as we ascend toward the egg itself, Iona joining me easily. Even without having natural flight like I do, the woman’s control of her body in the air is far better than my own. If the third rank is supposed to grant everyone the ability to traverse the air, I wonder what it will do for my ability to fly.
Sixteen of us make it to the top of the mound, looking down at the slimy egg as tall as a man. The shell is not as opaque as I first thought; there is a semblance of a shadow inside.
“I will make an inspection,” Iona says, dropping from the air until she hovers just in front of the egg. Her hand reaches out, fingers sliding through the viscous fluid covering the shell, her eyes closing as power flows out from her, melding into the surrounding air. Iona’s eyes flicker behind her closed eyes, her brow furrowing as she pushes her magic into the egg before her. With a sigh, she removed her hand, taking a step back. “It is too close to maturity,” she says. “Something like this can’t survive being placed into a spatial storage device, and without a way to keep it with conventional means, its value will be lost no matter what we do. Best to be rid of it now and salvage what we can. Jonathan, make me an omelet.”
“Don’t know how tasty this one will be,” A big man with a sledge on his shoulder says, walking up the incline toward the egg as Iona floats away.
There is a moment as the big man stops in front of the egg, hefting his hammer in his hand, working the grip, that I imagine seeing a flicker to the shadow inside the green shell. It is gone so quickly that I can’t be sure if I imagined it.
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“I thought humans liked to eat monsters,” Iona says to him, teasing.
“I don’t like green eggs particularly,” Jonathan remarks, raising his weapon.
A spatter of green matter splashes onto the floor. For a fraction of a heartbeat, the only sound in the room comes from the rattle of a drawn blade struggling to hold back a striking claw. Jonathan continues to stand in front of the egg, his face and clothing slathered in a green sludge. Less than a foot from his eye, two sharp points extend forward, reaching for the soft flesh of his face. The points of the stabbing claw trace back to a monster half-out of the sagging egg, its arm a hard carapace of mottled black and blue, ending in a hand of four claw-tipped fingers.
More than any of the insect monsters I have seen as of yet, this one looks the most like a person, two arms attached to shoulders supporting a vaguely person-shaped head, the eyes massive and multifaceted. Its chest transitions to an abdomen sporting six legs that still claw their way out of the shell.
The striking claw still shakes, its attack arrested by two with the mind to act in time to save Jonathan’s life. On the right side of the man, Dovik stands, the blade of his sword caught between two of the monster’s claws, his arms straining to hold it back. Just next to the monster, a woman holds onto the arm with a grip that could crush iron, a spike on the elbow of the monster stabbing straight through the back of her left hand.
“Kill it,” Iona says, her voice as dead as the sentence it carries.
The first bits of mana are still flowing to my fingers, and Dovik is still conjuring a sword in his free hand, when two wings spring from the back of the monster. Slick with the wetness of its birth, the wings spread wide, and their unveiling pushes back the three adventurers standing before it. The monster does not have an aura, but I can somehow see the air warp as it gathers power around it.
An arrow from below is the first attack to land, sinking into the neck of the monster. This time, I am certain that I see the rage flash through the monster as it turns its attention toward the archer, the arrow in its neck snapping with the flex of its carapace. Galea finally catches up, a window appearing above the head of the monster.
Acid Termite King
The momentary incongruity stops me cold, my brain distracted at rationalizing how a rank three monster could be of a lower level than even myself.
A deep thrum echoes through the chamber, the air almost seeming to be sucked into the body of the termite king as it inhales. A burbling exhale, a scream quieted by the phlegm and fluid trapped in its throat, erupts from the monster. The force of the exhale is enough to knock the three from the top of the mountain of flesh, enough to topple the tower itself and push everything back from the termite king in a clean sphere around the monster.
A wave of air hits me like a punch to the gut, knocking me further into the air, my flight having lost all control. By the time I arrest myself in the air, turning back to the enemy before us, I find a vacant spot of stone where once a tower of termite flesh had risen, the termite king standing in the center. All around, adventurers pick themselves out of the mess around them, pushing aside the horrid grime piled atop them.
The termite king’s head snaps up, and I find myself caught in its strange eyes, reflected and distorted by the wet gleam. For a fraction of a second, its attention is split between the two flying women, Iona and I. Then, Iona almost seems to shimmer, the monster losing all interest in her.
I move in time to dodge its lunge for me. This monster is incredibly fast, but it isn’t as fast as I am. The wet wings trying to flutter on its back, fail to catch the air as it strikes at me like an arrow in flight. My burning palm raises, pressing into its hard stomach as it begins to sail past, a detonation ringing through my hand as it is knocked aside with an explosion of dragonfire. The termite king continues into the air past me, its new trajectory leaving a line of smoke behind before it collides with the ceiling.
From any perspective other than my own, my counter-attack might have seemed relaxed, unbothered. My heart pounds in my ears as I descend from the sky, keeping my eyes trained on the uneven ceiling of the main chamber, my attention never leaving the monster clinging to a huge stalactite up there. With the monster having passed mere inches from me, I felt the power in its body, caught a whiff of the magic just beginning to roil inside. This thing is stronger than me, far stronger.
My feet touch down on the mushy earth, and I feel Dovik move up next to me.
“That thing is powerful,” he says, the fingers of his sword arm shaking with strain.
“You have no idea,” I tell him.
Acid Termite King
“It is getting stronger. Fast.” With my presence spread throughout the chamber, my mind notes the dozens racing down the slope at the tunnel entrance, heading toward us, but I pay them little attention. With how far away we are, they will not arrive in time.
The monster hanging overhead blurs, vanishing for a moment. In the instant of his descent, the termite king even evades the sense of my soul presence. A thundering collision, followed by a squelch of matter, booms just nearby. The termite king stands on top of a woman, the one who shot him with an arrow just before, her body crushed into the ground, dead in an instant.
The green aura suffusing the chamber disappears, the sudden loss of extraordinary sensation leaving my vision black for a moment, the last thing I see being three figures lunging toward the monster. Then the chamber becomes utter darkness, my eyes made useless by the depths of the inky black. Despite that, a window still floats in front of me.
Acid Termite King
Then, sensation returns, the world made real through the understanding of my soul presence. The termite king strikes a man from the air as he brings his arm down, the sudden darkness catching him by surprise. His entrails spill onto the stone as the monster slices him nearly in two. Easily avoiding the attack of the second adventurer, the termite king turns to stab at the third, and with horror, I realize it is Jess.
Jess’ steely aura spreads out around her, rippling as the impossibly sharp claws stab toward my friend. Her body contorts mid-air, turning, the blade of her chakram smashing into the side of the claws just a fraction of a second too late to fully save her from the attack. A shallow gash is cut along her side, a spray of blood spouting into the air as she is knocked to the side from the force of the blow.
She lands nearby, the shallow cut in her side already burning with green light as it begins to close. Down at the feet of the termite king, a man who by all rights should be dead, his body almost cut in half, releases a bloody moan as his skin starts to sew itself together. Somewhere, Iona is helping.
Then, Dovik is before the king, his eyes staring straight at the monster despite the utter darkness, golden swords gleaming in his hands.
Acid Termite King
Dovik’s exchange with the monster is too quick for me to properly follow. Dozens of slashes cut the very air around the monster as it moves, evading most of the blows, slapping the flats of the blades with its palms when it can’t. Another swordsman joins Dovik after less than a second has passed, cutting at the back of the monster with a huge sword. In the brief exchange, the blades cut into the carapace of the monster three times, all of the wounds shallow, but showing that the monster can be injured. Its body is not as tough as the royal guardians.
Light fills the area in the center of the chamber once more as two chains appear around the termite king’s legs. The chains of white light dig into the ground, rooting the monster in place, cutting off its retreat. Dovik’s sword punches into its side as the monster tries to sway to the side, but the strike shows itself to be a tactical sacrifice the next moment when the monster manages to catch the huge blade of the other fighter. With a twist, the greatsword is snapped in two, the second fighter hurled back as his broken blade is thrown with lethal speed into his chest.
Finally, three seconds have passed since the emergence of the monster.
Acid Termite King
Four more adventurers race forward, their weapons at the ready as they race to dispatch the immobilized monster. In the brief window, the termite king exchanges dozens of blows with Dovik, its claws blurring as they churn faster and faster. Dovik never seems pressured. In fact, it is the opposite; the stronger his opponent becomes, the more skillful his bladework grows.
Another thrum buzzes through the air, and I feel the same tension as before. The combatants move almost in slow motion as understanding passes through my brain. The termite king gathers power once more, pulling on the magic in the air itself to power what it does next. I stand, like an idiot, more than thirty feet away, a bolt of dragonfire growing far too slowly in my hand. I see the moment that the attack arrives.
Acid Termite King
A pulse passes through the entirety of the chamber, a shadow of power pushing away from the termite king in a blink. Its mouth falls open, and a scream from hell rips through the chamber, a wave of lethal magic pushing away from it. The wave of power that ripples toward me screams of death so powerfully that I activate the ability of my crown on instinct.
Crown of New Lineage(Mythic):
???
Enhancement: +180 attribute points, able to be distributed at the discretion of the wearer. <+60 Magic><+60 Speed><+60 Recovery><+10% all attributes>\
Focus: Sharpens the mind of the bearer, helping to prepare them for the challenges of power
Shield: Call upon the power of the crown to create a magical barrier to protect the bearer
A bubble of golden energy encloses me just a moment before the deadly energy washes over me. The wave of intangible force is powerful enough to push me back even inside of the barrier, though the threat of the magic outside does not approach me.
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