But something told me this adventure was going to be different. Looking at my map, I could see the outline our scouts had made of the route leading to the Shadewood. At a certain point, the map just ceased being useful. A hundred miles of land was documented by our people, but after that, we had no idea what was out there. Sure, there were old maps of territories, but the land had changed drastically since the Titans had arrived so long ago. Whatever lied past the 100 mile marker was a mystery to us all.
The Shadewood is a great forest, one beyond the size of any you have seen. Trees the size of mountains. It is where many of what you call monsters come from. Long have we tried to reach the wood, only to meet failure. Our great friends, the mighty Venators who once aided us, hunting these creatures for sport and pleasure, have all but vanished. There was more power in the claw of a single of those Venators than in your entire hunting team. If there was no hope for them, then we must assume there is little to none for you.
Those had been the parting warnings of Brain. He spoke without empathy, pity or compassion. There was no long goodbye, nor words of affection towards me. If Masara had feelings, it was clear they did not communicate them with statements or phrases.
Behind me rolled along one of our greatest inventions. It was a short, square wagon, with metal wheels and a transparent box atop it, full of metal gears that rolled themselves, powered by a mixture of physics and magic. The mobile workshop, christened the Stabwagon by snickering recruits, was everything I’d need to perform my regular Venator activities on the field.
There was an alchemy bench that flipped out on the left side, full of tiny cauldrons and metal vials that could be used to brew potions on the go. On the right was a butchery station that served as a workbench for crafting charms. The interior had been hollowed out, to allow me to sleep in safety, as the Stabwagon was smeared in a special concoction of monster blood and pheromones that rendered it more or less invisible to scavenger type creatures. This creaking, groaning and occasionally sputtering contraption would be my only company for the long, long journey ahead.
I walked in front of the wagon, making my way through Fort Rasha, staring blankly ahead. All of the Venators of the camp had assembled to wish me farewell. New recruits and veterans alike lined up the newly installed metal walls, cheering for me as I walked through the open gates.
“You’re gonna kill them all, Avery!” someone shouted.
“You’ve got this!” another one called. Many shouted encouragements, words of thanks and exclamations of how I’d succeed, but I could see what really powered their cheerfulness. Each and every one of them was grateful that they wouldn’t be coming with me. Grateful they’d get to stay home. I couldn’t blame them. If I were just another grunt, I’d be silently praying that no one made me go on such a terrible adventure either.
I forced a smile and waved, making stabbing gestures in the air, to show how ready I was. It was all an act, of course, and I kept the smile up for as long as they could see me. But the moment I was clear of the outer gate, past the last batch of scout towers, I immediately reverted back to a neutral attitude. This was going to be a long, miserable trip. Dangerous too.
My ears twitched as a rustling came from behind. In an instant, Josiah’s Storm was in my hands and I whipped around, facing the wagon, looking for the source of the sound.
“Why do you get all the cheers when you leave, but when I leave no one even notices?” Trig said, sticking his head out of the top of the wagon’s escape hatch.
“Trig?” I said. “What are you doing here?”
“What do you think? I’m stowing away so I can finally get some sleep,” he said, climbing out and jumping down beside me. He didn’t look good, necessarily. Not that he wasn’t in good shape, of course his skinny frame had filled out quite a bit from all the meat and training that the Venator life could afford. But his face was forlorn, weary and in his eyes, I could see such sorrow. The sorrow he had carried ever since the fateful day we had killed our first Titan.
“You can’t be here,” I said. “I’m about to head—”
The lad put a hand up to stop me. “I know the whole deal. Your overbearing husband explained it all, so we can skip the unnecessary recap.”
Higgins was behind this? “He sent you here?”
“Officially? No. Unofficially? Yup. He said you were worried about going it alone. Figured I could keep you company on the journey. And no one would notice me taking a vacation since well, let’s face it, I haven’t done anything important since that damn fort went up.”
My heart warmed at this gesture. “But, Trig, you realize the odds? The Masara were extremely clear that even my chances of survival are so slim that they’re assuming I’ll die too.”
Trig shrugged. “Personally? I think those gem dudes are just like the eggheads in Maxwell’s Breach. Obsessed with calculations, theories and the lot. In truth? You can’t just run a calculation and assume it’ll work out that way. Real life is impossible to predict.”
“Sounds nice but…will you be saying that as something horrid is chewing your guts while you’re still alive?”
“Aves, I cheated death once before. No, not cheated. A trade was made. Gloria saved my life and, in the process, gave her own,” Trig said, the warmth fading from his words. A cold pallor came across his face as he stared past me. “The fact is, sometimes you have to be willing to throw your life away to save others. And you’re one of the people I’d die for. Not because of our friendship, but because of what you will do for all of these survivors. All of the villages.”
“There’s a difference between sacrifice and suicide,” I said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Back out now, while you have the chance.”
“Why?” he asked. “Because my life has value? And yours doesn’t? Or maybe you’re just so self-obsessed you think you’re the chosen one who will save us all.”
“Oh yeah, my ego is the size of a planet,” I replied, smacking him on the arm. “All right, you can come with me. But anytime you want to back out, it’s fine with me. Just know, one thing is more important than anything else.”
“And what’s that?”
“You’re on watch first,” I said, scurrying up the wagon and climbing into the sleeping hatch. I smiled once hidden away from Trig’s eyes, sighing heavily at what my husband had done for me. Trig was good company. And while I’d certainly make him go back home when we reached the Shadewood, the journey wouldn’t feel nearly half as long with that chattering youth to fill every waking moment with conversation about anything and everything.
Chapter 4
I woke up to a familiar whistle. Three short ones followed by a long shrill tune. Danger wasn’t nearby but a warm trail was just discovered. I opened an eye and sat up.
“How did Dette make this bed so comfortable?” I muttered, wondering how long I had been asleep. I let out two quick chirps to signal I’d be over in a moment. Climbing out of the wagon’s top hatch, I looked around to see that we were out of the Zinoss Jungle and in territory that was quite unfamiliar to me. The area was still wooded like the jungle, but the trees were tall and pointed, with palm fronds sticking out every which way.
Trig was kneeling on the ground, running his hands over a small, smooth divot in the dirt. Instantly my hunting senses gave me an idea of what had made the divot.
Trail Age: Less than 2 hours
Monster Type: Bipedal scavenger
Preferred Habitat: Jungles
“So it’s definitely not a danger to us,” Trig said. “Trail seems cold.”
“It was here less than two hours ago and is a scavenger,” I replied, drawing my bow. “A scavenger I don’t recognize. Certainly not a Kinru.”
“You want to hunt it?” Trig asked. “Frankly, I could use the Bloodpoints. You don’t get a lot of them while handling guard duty.”
I nodded at that. A hunt would be good for us to stay fresh while traveling. Besides, a new charm would be welcome. “Let
’s go. Nice and silent.”
We both were quick to adopt quiet stances and began stalking through the jungle wood. The dragging trail mark was easy to follow and as we got closer to a muddy patch of dirt, footprints began to form. Each footprint was the length of a human, nearly six feet in length and three feet in width, with Kinru-like talons.
“This is a big fella,” Trig said, rubbing his hands together. “You still up for it?”
I didn’t bother to reply. These specific footprints were extremely fresh, less than a few minutes old at the most. How come we hadn’t heard anything yet? Not a stomp, not a thump nor a roar. Few monsters were that silent.
I raised a hand for my companion to keep quiet and began to search around us, staying in place. This part of the jungle was muddy but everywhere else had been perfectly dry. And there was no source of water anywhere around. It hadn’t rained in the area for days either…and this particular area was being touched directly by the sun. There was something wrong with this mud!
My realization came a moment too late. The mud burbled as it suddenly came to life, rising upwards and throwing itself on Trig.
“Ahhhh!” Trig screamed, caught entirely by surprise as he was tackled to the ground by a small beast covered entirely in mud. Or…no, wait, it wasn’t covered, it was composed of mud! This creature was an amorphous blob, forming tail, fin and even limbs as it grasped and grabbed at Trig, trying to pin him down.
Fortunately, Trig had built his class around stealth and clever tricks to escape from these exact situations. One moment, he was being assaulted by this strange mud beast, the next he had simply vanished from sight.
“Gloorr?” the beast burbled as it realized its prey had vanished. I drew my bow and aimed it at the creature’s ever-shifting back, firing a few arrows at it. Each arrow crashed into the creature’s body, but the beast did not react. There were no sounds of pain, nor shrieks of agony. Slowly, it turned to face me.
The mudbeast shifted form into a large, tall blanket-like body, growing tall enough to where it could fall on its prey. As it reared up, several bones fell out from it, including that of a large Kinru-like skull. I guess that explained where the tracks had come from.
I rolled out of the way in time as the beast crashed onto the ground, its body splattering everywhere. Though I was able to roll clear of the impact point, I could not avoid the splotches of mud that were spraying everywhere. At first, I merely rubbed the mud out of my eyes, mildly annoyed, but that proved to be a terrible mistake on my part.
As soon as the mud made contact with my hands, it began to rapidly expand around my fingers, seizing them tightly and forcing them together.
“Ah crap!” I shouted in surprise as both of my hands became encased in mud gloves that were rapidly hardening. The mudbeast burbled with satisfaction as it began to lurch towards me, forming a series of tiny legs on its stomach, like a centipede, to allow it to crawl quickly to me.
I staggered away, trying to break my hands free of the mud, but no amount of smearing against my armor would clean the mud off. Once the dark brown substance had finished hardening on the outside, an intense pressure began to assail my fingers.
At first, the pressure was merely firm, as if someone was squeezing my hands tightly in a handshake, but as seconds passed, the pressure became like a vice grip. I let out a grunt of pain as my fingers started to succumb to the squeezing, each digit cracking one after the other.
An explosion rocked the world around me and at once, my hands became free! A wave of heat struck me and my eyes watered, but I was unaffected by the explosion.
“I reallllly hope that didn’t hit you!” Trig shouted from the trees above. He had two explosive orbs in his hands, special weapons from his advanced class, the Grenadier. The infusion grenades, as they were called, allowed him to throw bursts of elemental magic, mimicking the devastating power of dynamite, all without having to waste the blasting powder from the mines. It was quite fortunate he calculated how to hit my hands without hitting me!
“I’m good!” I shouted, leaping up into a nearby tree, avoiding the charge from the mudbeast. It slithered across the ground, almost snake-like, and then immediately flattened itself, forming another mud field across the jungle dirt. At first glance, if we had not seen this monster with our own two eyes, the mud would have looked completely believable as nothing more than wet terrain.
“How do we kill it?” Trig asked, priming another explosive.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” I replied, switching my arrows to fire type. Fire carried heat, right? So maybe I could dry out the mud? It was worth a shot.
A few flaming arrows crashed into the dense ground, but my shots merely sank down into the mud, absorbed completely. Two more grenades were thrown down, causing a bright explosion that forced me to look away for a moment. Looking back, the mud seemed undamaged.
“So…I can say without a doubt that being attacked by a large blanket of mud is the weirdest fight I’ve had,” Trig said. “And seeing how our attacks failed, er…why not just call it a day?”
“You’re giving up on a pile of mud?”
“An anatomy-less beast with no apparent weaknesses? Hardly cowardice to just pack it up, rather than get mud in between my prim and proper nails,” he replied. A solitary bubble rose from the mud, popping. We both tensed up, waiting for something to happen, but the creature merely resumed its restful state.
“Hmmm…” I said, thinking of the different types of monsters we had faced over the year. “It’s a trap monster. And didn’t seem interested in chasing once we were out of arm’s reach. This means it has a limited supply of energy.”
“It’s lazy, makes sense, probably only gets meals every now and then, by trapping whatever it can grab. So running around would cost a lot of energy,” Trig agreed. “What are you thinking?
“Why fight it in its prime?” I said, grabbing a nearby tree branch and snapping it off. The brown branch was meaty enough to get a reaction, or so I hoped. With a heave, I tossed the branch into the center of the mudbeast.
Instantly, the beast came to life, its entire body wrapping upwards, like a carpet come to life, rolling around the stick. The creature gurgled as it balled itself around the stick, slowly contracting until it was a tight sphere, perfectly round and smooth. Once it was finished contracting around the target, it relaxed and returned to its inert state.
“Your turn,” I said.
Chuckling, Trig threw a skipping stone he kept in his pouch, causing the exact same reaction from the beast. We did this a few times, and eventually, the mudbeast began to slow down. Each reaction took longer and longer; it would jerk and sputter, the perfect ball becoming looser and looser, until it eventually began to struggle to jump up at all.
“Looks like you were right,” Trig said after the last stone produced no reaction at all. “I think we burned its energy down.”
“And probably its defenses too,” I said. “Unless it has some kind of reserve.” I raised my bow and readied a multi-shot, lining four arrows on the neck at once. “Let’s throw everything we have at it. Same time.”
Trig grinned and produced two flame grenades, waiting for my order. “One…two…three!” Arrows of flame and explosive struck the creature at the same moment, causing it to let out the most hideous shriek. It blew apart in a matter of seconds, the mud splashing out everywhere, striking tree, rock and leaf. The mud dripped down onto the ground slowly, but nothing moved to reform.
“Woah!” Trig gasped, pointing down at where the mudbeast had been. Laying on the ground, inert and lifeless was a large seed, roughly the shape of a coconut. Unlike other seeds, however, this one had a glowing core in the center, as well as veins that pulsed slowly. The light faded as this strange monster died, leaving nothing but mud and seed as a testament to its strange and hungry existence.
Chapter 5
“It’s a shame you can’t make steaks out of mud,” Trig bemoaned as I worked on the seed in
the alchemy workshop, carefully cutting it down into different ingredients. Being on the road meant being far, far away from our usual alchemist team. I’d have to rely on my own alchemical abilities, though they were woefully lacking since I had stopped progressing in that area for quite some time. Alchemy was something I had left to my more adept allies.
One of the benefits of being part of an organization was that we didn’t need to fulfill all roles alone. Each member of the group could specialize into their chosen field without having to worry about branching out. Being alone, possibly for the next few months, meant we’d have to round out our own skills. I gave Trig the Bloodpoints for this kill, but the next one would be mine, primarily so I could advance my alchemical abilities.
One useful design of the Stabwagon was that it could distill alchemical ingredients while traveling. All I needed to do was place the proper material into the right cauldrons and vials, and then let the automated system work. Pouring most of the salvaged mud into a steel alembic, I then dumped the chunks of raw seed into an extraction device. This metal container would superheat the organic material over time and turn it into pure liquid Estoan and Firnin. Quite handy to have.
And last, but certainly not least, I took the core of the seed itself, a strange hollow cylinder that was tender like meat, but firm as bone, and began to fashion a charm out of the core. You could really never have too many charms, especially since I could change them out on the fly.
Aspect of the Glurp:
Amorphous (0/5): You no longer have weak spots.
Monster Hunting 401: A LitRPG Fantasy Adventure Page 2