Chapter 2 - A Mossy Awakening II
Crippled by its injuries, the hellhog moved at an excruciatingly slow pace. Each step it took covered only the slightest bit of ground. Hesitation slowed it even further. The spiny creature seemed unwilling to take too many steps at a time. It took the beast several minutes to finally make its way out through a tunnel on the other side of the illuminated cavern.
Cire far outpaced it. Even while doing her best to stay absolutely silent as she crept from rock to rock and cover to cover, she found herself with an excess of downtime, during which she simply had to sit still because she was too hot on its heels. She didn’t quite like the idea of letting herself idle, so she looked for something to occupy her in the meantime.
The first idea she settled on considering was her approach. Her mind cycled through a wide variety of options, methods she could use to take the monster down. Of all the possibilities she considered, only three stood out as viable, all of which involved first waiting for the creature to stop and rest. She wasn’t confident in taking it head on, even if it was in desperate need of a wheelchair.
Her first pn was to destroy its remaining eye with the dagger hilt she had on hand. Though there wasn’t any bde left, the guard was hooked and could be used for gouging. Once it was blinded, she could repeatedly attack its throat until she brought about its demise. There was one major fw with the concept, namely, her ability to finish the creature off. She doubted that her damage output was even remotely close to high enough given her ck of both might and magic. Even when strengthened with various spells and enchantments, most mages abstained from close quarters combat. And though Cire was one no longer, her stat spread was still identical to that of any other pure caster—completely and utterly devoid of anything that even remotely resembled strength.
Option number two involved leveraging the wounds that the egg-shaped bats had inflicted. Its exposed spine was vulnerable and she felt that, even with her ck of strength, it was possible for her to smash the creature’s skull if she were to use a rge stone. There were, of course, problems with this proposition. She didn’t know how hard the hog’s bones were. Nor did she know for certain if literally crushing its mind would be enough to end it. If it did manage to survive, then it would surely sh out and crush her in a single strike.
Finally, the third and seemingly most viable option was to gather up some of the acid used by the eggeyes and dump it onto the creature’s head. The viscous fluid didn’t seem to be able to melt bone, but it was more than powerful enough to eat through flesh. Cire suspected that pouring it into the now-emptied eye socket would most likely spell her foe’s demise. Like the others, this final approach also came with its own set of assumptions and requirements, but none were as outndish as those involved in her other ploys. All that Cire needed was for her candle holder not to melt and for it to hold enough of the fluid to deliver a fatal blow.
After she was sure the creature was far enough from the glowing cave to not notice her, Cire stepped inside and made her way over to the skeletal arm that had been torn from its owner. She examined the bone, squeezing it and trying to tear it apart to no avail. It was tough, so tough that she immediately gave up on her second option. Tearing the creature’s body apart was clearly a pipe dream, even with a rge rock. Likewise, she also began questioning her ability to cut her way through its throat, but knowing that its flesh was less durable, she refrained from dismissing the possibility outright.
Setting the arm back down, she first took a quick gnce at the inscriptions on the wall and confirmed that they were runes. She vaguely recognized some of them, but the passage’s meaning remained unknown to her. Cire brushed the notion of inspecting it in more detail aside, at least for the time being, and approached the darkest pool of acid. Once she reached it, the halfbreed dipped the metal candle holder inside.
Please don’t melt.
Much to her surprise, her pn worked. The dish quickly filled with the dark viscous liquid.
I bet the only reason nothing went wrong this time is because I only said it in my head.
Cire pulled it back out as soon as it reached about three quarters fullness. She wouldn’t have been able to keep it steady enough to prevent spilge if it contained anything more, and she wasn’t exactly keen on the concept of accidentally burning herself to death. Granted, tripping likely would have spelt an untimely end either way, as the resulting noise would surely have attracted her prey’s attention.
I’m not sure what’s worse, dying because I accidentally melt my own face off, or getting eaten by an ugly pig.
With her poison procured, she once again began tailing the near-dead hog.
___
It took a full hour for the boar to finally return to the alcove that was its nest. Cire suspected that the distance could easily be covered in five minutes under normal circumstances, but the hog’s limp had slowed its pace to a crawl.
The halfbreed knew little about the frequency with which monsters appeared in dungeons, but she felt that the ck of another opportunist was a stroke of good fortune either way. The scent of blood seeping from the pig-creature’s wounds was so pungent that she could track it even without keeping an eye on it.
Is that a tent?
Peeking into the creature’s home provided Cire with a surprising sight. There were clear traces of a pit meant for a firepce as well as a tent, a wooden chair, and a sleeping bag clearly not rge enough for the three meter tall pig-beast. If not for the human-like skeleton ying in the corner, Cire would have begun to think of the creature as some sort of intelligent being. Not that such a fact would have had any sway in her decision to end it.
The humanoid bones were by no means the only set present. The entire backside of the recess was filled with bare skeletal remains, none with flesh still dangling from them. Cire wasn’t capable of identifying all the different creatures present within the pile and the haphazard manner in which they were strewn about didn’t help, but she was at least able to make out several different types of skulls.
A bloody mess was added to the collection as the hellhog walked over and regurgitated whatever was left of the creatures she had watched it fight. Seeing it puke made her want to do the same, but by pcing her candle dish down and using the freed hand to pinch her nostrils, she was narrowly able to stop herself.
The beast’s next set of actions only made it even more difficult for her to refrain from violently gagging. It started picking away at the pieces of the flesh it had vomited before shoving anything deboned back down its gullet.
Crie had no desire to watch or even listen to it, but leaving felt like a mistake, so she instead directed her eyes behind the hellhog and took a second, closer look at its skeletal collection. Specifically, she searched for any bones even vaguely resembling weapons. Unsurprisingly, they were far from scarce. There were pointy ribs, sharp horns, and fangs identical to the beast’s. While some of them were buried too deep, others sat isoted from the pile and could easily be retrieved. Far better than a broken dagger.
There seemed to be a few things inside the tent as well, but there was no way for her to get a better view of its contents without being spotted, so she refrained.
After a few minutes of gorging itself, the beast finally settled down and curled itself up, seemingly satisfied with its meal. Still, sleep didn’t come immediately. It spent another half hour grooming itself, tending to its wounds with a long, thick tongue. Only when it was finally done did it close its eyes and allow its breathing to slow.
Now’s my chance. Cire took a moment to steady her nerves.
One way or another, she managed to convince herself she was just euthanizing a cripple as opposed to facing a fearsome monster. And while that thought didn’t exactly do any wonders for her conscience, it did allow her to finally stop shaking. She tip-toed out from behind a boulder, approached the pile of bones next to her parapalegic target, and grabbed two of the fang-like structures she had deemed the most easily accessible, just in case things went wrong.
And go wrong they did.
Her ankle brushed up against a skull as she attempted to bring the fangs back to her previous hiding spot. The force rippled throughout the pile, causing bones of all shapes and sizes to rattle. Her target began to perk up. It had been alerted of her presence.
She messed up. Badly. There was no salvaging the idea she had suddenly come up with, coating her newfound weapons in a yer of acid, but she wasn’t doomed just yet. The creature was only starting to awaken.
The halfbreed had only a split second to choose between fleeing and pressing the attack. The outcome of the former was effectively guaranteed. There was no way for the heavily damaged creature to outrun her, and there were plenty of opportunities for her to return. But something about that choice annoyed her. It annoyed her so much, in fact, that she instantly chose the alternative without even considering the ramifications.
One knife-like fang was driven straight into the hog’s remaining eye, and the other its throat.
Leaving both weapons where they were, she nded in front of it and shot towards the creature’s armless side to evade retaliation.
Another mistake.
Dodging away from an attack was only a feasible choice in the case that the evader was swift enough to outrun the incoming strike. And swift Cire was not. Nor was she even truly under attack just yet, but that was besides the point.
The blow she took was no real strike, but rather, a mere byproduct of the monster recoiling in pain. Its arm brushed up against her gut when it raised it, sending her tumbling through the air.
Cire wanted to scream in pain. The agony assaulting her system was almost too much to bear, but she desperately held it back as she crashed into the ground. Making noise was the one thing she didn’t dare do. She couldn’t afford to give her location away to the blinded beast. A quick gnce at her status informed her that she had only three points of health remaining, even after regenerating fifteen over the course of the hour and a half she’d stalked it. It terrified her to know that the blow would have killed her had the two cshed any earlier, but she pressed on nonetheless.
Her teeth clenched and whole body trembling, she crawled back towards her acid-filled candle holder. She grabbed the first bone she found along the way in one hand and the broken dagger she’d set down in the other. There was no time to look for anything with a particur trait, not unless she was willing to forgo an opportunity to attack. The ck of offensive potential was compensated for by sthering both makeshift weapons in a yer of thick, purple goop.
Once re-armed, she forced herself to her feet and circled back around her target. She remained behind it while it filed its arm around at random, breaking pieces off the stone walls and smashing both stactites and stagmites alike as it attempted to locate its assaint.
Only after feeling a burning pain in the back of its sole functional knee did it finally realize where she was. It swept at her rough location, but this time, it hit nothing.
She danced between its legs and unched another attack. The hellhog being twice her height prevented her from reaching any vitals, but she managed to deal significant damage regardless by driving her acid-ced dagger hilt straight into the creature’s groin. The purple fluid destroyed its gonads, ensuring that it would never reproduce even if it managed to survive the encounter.
Again, the hellhog loosed a feral scream. But as terrifying as the roar seemed, it only encouraged her. She grabbed a fang off the ground, the one the creature had torn out of its eye socket, and jammed it into its thigh. Once it was as deep as she could get it, she grabbed the protruding ivory with both hands and pulled downwards with all her might.
Blood streamed down her arms, leaking from the wound as would a crimson cascade. When the pig beast finally fell to its knees, she forced the makeshift weapon into its armpit, tearing at the muscles it was using to fil its only functional limb. It was an action Cire equated to putting the creature in check. But even though she felt as if she had all the momentum in the world, victory continued to elude her.
The arm she thought she had disabled shed out the moment she withdrew her fanged bde. The monster grabbed her, wrapping its thick muscur fingers around the maiden’s shoulders, and holding her arms tight to her chest. Breaking free was impossible. Its grip was too powerful.
She was taken to its face, where its maw awaited with all three sets of sharpened teeth ready to consume her, the very same teeth that had so easily ended both the foes she had watched it defeat.
The tables turned. Now, she was the one that desperately filed as her opponent took control of the situation. Fortunately, the creature’s blindness led it to misunderstand the nature of her form. She was able to kick it in the nose, inflicting just enough pain to force it to reel back. Its grip loosened for the briefest moments. An opening she failed to miss.
Slipping out of its grasp, she jabbed the sharpened enamel into one side of its neck and her broken dagger’s guard into the other. The bits of acid still covering its contours allowed her to eat through the creature’s flesh. But not even that was enough. She realized, after seeing it fail to fall, that it was going to take much more than a few cuts and burns to drain the remainder of its health, so she ducked to evade another grab and momentarily retreated. To return with her acid-den dish in hand. It was only half full now, but she wasn’t worried.
She carefully maneuvered underneath its armless shoulder and pulled out the weapon she’d driven into its neck. Her candle holder soon repced it. The thick purple goop nearly spilled from the metal container as she jammed it inside the creature’s throat, it’s viscosity the only thing keeping it in the dish. As soon as the package was delivered, she flipped it upside down, dumping its contents into the hog’s flesh.
As the beast fell forward, she grabbed the closest thing she could, a chair, and bashed it against the back of the thing’s head, over and over and over until the old, brittle wood buckled, driving splinters into the pig’s exposed insides. Cire repeated the process, smashing the chair against her foe again and again until all four legs broke off, after which she crammed them down the hole in its neck, one after another.
The beast struggled. It desperately tried to get her away from it, but it cked both the energy and strength it once had. Its arm was unable to do anything but pitifully push itself against her each time it tried to knock her away. It grew more limp with each passing moment, more powerless, more vulnerable. And eventually, it succumbed, lifelessly colpsing beneath her with its throat jammed shut and its innards fully dissolved.
Log Entry 476You have sin a level 47 hellhog.
This feat has earned you the following bonus rewards:- 2 points of agility- 7 points of dexterity- 5 points of strength- 1 point of vitality
“I did it…” she muttered to herself quietly as she colpsed onto her rear. The additional reward was a welcome surprise. She knew that obtaining bonus points from combat was possible, but she had never experienced it for herself.
Log Entry 477You have acquired the Tracking skill.
Log Entry 478You have acquired the Makeshift Weapon Mastery skill.
I didn’t even know that skill existed. Oh well, now I’ll be even better at hurting things with chairs!
Log Entry 479You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been restored and all harmful status effects have been cleansed.
Your racial css, Halfbreed, has reached level 10.
You have gained 6 ability points.
Log Entry 480You have unlocked the Rogue css.
Looks like all that effort paid off after all.
Log Entry 481You have unlocked the Barbarian css.
Barbarian? How rude! I’m a perfectly well mannered noble dy, thank you very much.
Log Entry 482You have unlocked the Hunter css.
Three? I was only expecting one. I guess today isn’t as bad of a day as I thought after all. Thanks, box.
Cire slumped over, her breathing still ragged and her heart still pounding with both fear and excitement. It wasn’t her first kill—her father and his guards had set many up for her before for the purposes of bolstering the efficacy of her ritual magic—but it was the first that she had earned.