Harmless Human Sacrifice - 27 (Patreon)

Okay Markus. Massive regenerating plant monster. If you stand still for too long, it’s gonna grab you from every angle and choke you to death.

You know what that means?

“Fucking move!” the imp screamed from beside him, pushing him to the side as it ran out the range of the vines, dropping the chest in the process.

Yeah. What he said.

Markus jumped back onto one of the ruined ledges sticking out of the wall as yet more vines shot up to consume the spot he’d been stood in not moments ago. The plant’s branches looked thin enough, but the speed at which they moved and the barbed edges of the thorns all around them made it extremely clear just how effective these long vines would be at tearing flesh.

Markus stared at the chest laid right at the top of the room, still faintly glowing from his [Identify] passive. He’d set the vines before him ablaze if he thought it’d get him to the chest easier, but with how they were wrapped around the entire ledge he was worried he’d set the treasure on fire too. If that was what wound up occurring, there’d be no point. 

“Can you teleport and grab it?” Markus shouted, shifting to a new ledge even as he spoke, plants snaking in the direction he’d just come from and colliding with the wall, joining yet more of the overgrowth and regrouping for a fresh assault.

“I can’t use it that many times!” the imp screeched. “And even if I could, FUCK going in there!”

Fucking fat load of help he was. Markus could hardly blame him though. This was a mess. Vines lashed around Markus’ back, poised like snakes, striking in unison, and Markus activated [Stone Skin] in an effort to block the assault. 

At least, he thought he’d activated Stone Skin. Thorns impaled his shoulders and raked against his arms as he twisted and threw himself against the wall in an attempt to free himself, bringing his glaive up and swinging in a wide arc to at the very least carve a space out of the wall forming before him, though it did little to help with the thorns still digging into his back.

He eyed the next ledge, approximated the necessary force and acceleration, and jumped, gritting his teeth hard to ensure he didn’t bite his tongue as the sharp spines ripped out of him, groaning with exertion as he almost entirely overshot the next ledge, teetering on the edge of it. 

He hadn’t even managed to slow down this enemy. He didn’t have enough Flame Mana to set this whole room ablaze, either. His only continuous source was his Glaive, and it didn’t generate very fast. He had Earth Mana which he’d taken from the slime thing that’d jumped him, but his body didn’t understand quite how to use it. It was clunky and heavy and strange. Not at all like the flowy mana he’d become somewhat used to maneuveouring. 

He needed to focus hard on the sensation, which was fucking difficult with all this monster plant in his face. The Earth Mana was heavier than the rest, right? Then maybe instead of trying to hold it and move it within himself, he just needed to…

…drop it?

Holy shit, that worked. He felt the mana lining against his skin and beginning to spread as the [Stone Skin] spell activated, a portion of his energy instantaneously draining from him as soon as his skin took on a hardened, light grey sheen, instantly enveloping his flesh and superseding his flesh.

This new layer was heavy, Markus realised suddenly, his entire body feeling as if it’d gained at least fifty pounds of sheer, solid mass. It was a little slower to move in than usual, and Markus unwittingly ended up testing the resistance of the new ability just as soon as a new set of vines reached him, ready to smash into him and impale his body once more.

They bounced off rather easily, an utter contrast to the racking pain he’d felt as these same thorns had sliced through his skin like butter only moments before. This was incredible. He felt so much safer than he had before, as if he’d suddenly donned power armour.  

That being said, he had less than thirty seconds until this spell would run out, and he wasn’t sure how many times he’d get to cast it, nor how much Earth Mana he had left for a potential recast. That meant he needed to move quick. 

This thing didn’t have an obvious weakness from what he could tell. He’d scarcely been able to look in the time he’d been only retreating and dodging attacks, so he took the time that he had now—the attacks repeatedly bouncing off of him where he stood—to get a good look at the monster he faced, to map out what details he could and see if he could figure out his next move.

The room was structured in a wide open space, most of the ground covered in plants and vines that shuddered and twisted and moved in his direction, seemingly attracted to him, desperate to impale and throttle the life out of his body. On both sides of the room were two series of ledges that looked almost like dilapidated staircases with most of their structures missing, parts of them joined by a series of overgrowth that looked as if it was scarcely capable of being walked on.

Maybe if Markus was the imp’s size he could try that, but the more sturdy stone ledges looked like a much safer bet.

On the highest ledge, at the edge of a balcony, stood the heavy chest that had enticed Markus to enter this small cavern in the first place, the container crested on both sides by thick, writhing  foliage, unspoiled and untouched, just waiting for him to reach out and grab it.

Twenty seconds left. Markus took the time he had to grab the plant trying to stab into his shoulder and attempt to drain it. He absorbed some Life Mana and even a little of something else, and the plant began to wither, but it was replaced by yet more before he could even count his discovery as a victory.

It wasn’t just that it regenerated, but the fact there was so much of it. If he couldn’t bind it all together or drain it from the source, he’d never be shot of it like that.

Fire seemed to burn it away, but he was in short supply. He had regenned enough for one [Detonate], and if he was gonna make any use of that, he’d need to be tactical about it. 

Fifteen. He needed to move. 

His chances of beating this thing were pretty fucking low. He couldn’t find an easy solution, and the only thing he’d managed to figure out about its patterns was that it went straight for him and that it seemed to stem from multiple different points in the room. He had no clue how to use that. He imagined trying to cut it from the source would just wind up with him getting overwhelmed, and he could only [Detonate] one area right now, not four or five.

Markus jumped to the third ledge, wobbling as he landed, stone dislodging from the edge and falling to the ground with a heavy clank! that reverberated through his entire body. 

He felt the pain snaking up his right leg and into his calf from the landing, almost faltering from the pain, crying out from fresh exertion. Even with all of his healing since, that recent break had been so bad. Putting pressure on it was fucking killer. 

Still, he needed to jump at least twice more to make it. The penultimate ledge, then the balcony. Ten seconds left on his Stone Skin. He could do it.

Markus veered back to dodge another series of strikes from the thicker plant shoots lining this section of wall, then carried that same momentum forwards to jump straight across the space below and onto the newest ledge, cracked stone beneath his feet crumbling from the impact, his body reeling from the sensation, his face scrunched in strain and discontent. 

Each jump was only made more impactful by the stone lining his skin, and his body could barely take the strain. If he could, he would’ve crawled the rest of the way. That’s how much torment he was putting himself through, and there was still one last jump to go, this one wider than the last three, harder to envision clearing with this extra weight on him.

He didn’t want to do it. He didn’t want to jump. It hurt so fucking bad.

The stone beneath him cracked even further.

His body was too heavy. He was going to fall at this rate. 

That was at least fifteen feet. He was fucked if he allowed himself to fall down here. His protection would fade, and he’d be pierced a thousand times.

But the prospect of jumping another time like this, of making another jump with this weight…

Could he? Could he bring himself to do it? Wasn’t it easier to just accept his fate at this point, rather than destroy his leg even further?

He imagined he’d be knocked out by the fall. It’d probably be far more easy to—

Nah, come on Markus, think! What the fuck is this attitude? Are you really that afraid of an incy bit of pain?

Don’t be a pussy. Figure it out.

Markus raised his glaive by the handle, gathered his strength, and smashed the handle against his side.

The second his stone skin was pierced, the entirety of the spell faded away from him. As if it’d never been there to begin with. He instantly felt lighter, as well as feeling fucking winded from the fresh bruise he’d just left on his ribs in the process.

He activated his new [Reforge] spell right after, channelling Spirit Mana into his injured leg in an attempt to fortify it.

He was still in fucking agony, but a touch less. 

He was more than ready to clear that gap. Fuck it. 

The pain in his ribs distracted him from his leg for long enough that he could build the mental fortitude to leap forth once more, and Jumpmaster did its fucking job allowing him to clear the final eight feet and land right on the edge of the ledge, falling forwards instantly to avoid pressure on his leg, hands out against the stone ground, cutting against thorns as the vines around him sprang to life, possessed by hideous energy and foul intent.

He sliced and stabbed at the vines that surrounded the chest, pushing through his exhaustion, his speed increasing even as he continued to detach the chest from the monstrous form that embraced it. 

Enshrouded by malignant lifeforms set upon skewering him, body sweating and bleeding, mind ablaze, Markus focussed on attempting to open the chest, but it was locked. 

Fuck. Shit. Why’s it fucking locked?!

He flicked his head around as he looked for a key, activating [Identify] as he did so, but all he managed to spy was that on the other side of a large iron gate that sat behind him on the other side of the balcony, there were a comparatively large collection of other chests and treasures waiting for someone to claim them.

Well, that’s not fucking useful. Oh well, guess I’ll die.

Grr… fuck. So I can’t grab the shit and run? Okay. Fine. I’ll do one better.

Markus walked to chest, picked it up, and pushed it to the edge of the balcony. It was fucking heavy. The idea of carrying this thing out and jumping around with it in the process was fucking ludicrous. 

So Markus decided to do one better. He began to manifest a ramp.

He’d already made this kind of thing before when he was running up to hit the giants. Now he just needed to make a downhill one. Something he could use to ferry down the chest and get it the fuck out of here.

He just needed to make it long enough and angle it well enough that the chest would slide all the way down and out of the plants’ reach, then he could jump down and fucking bail. 

Sounded simple, right? Then he got about halfway through building the ramp and got stabbed in the legs so many times that he completely lost concentration.

Markus shot Blood and Life Mana towards his fresh injuries, releasing his [Reforge] spell at the same time and allowing the throbbing, searing pain in his leg to return in full force.

He couldn’t get distracted by the continuous stabs of the plants below. He needed the horrific pain of his worst injury to drown all the random cuts and slashes out, to ignore them for just long enough that he might finish his work.

His pain gave him focus. It told him he was still alive, still fighting. And if there was a way he could move beyond this pain to something better, he wouldn’t hide away from it. He’d use the hardships this world put him through to achieve greater results than anyone else in his position would dare to even strive for.

That was what it meant to be strong. To be better. No retreat, no compromise, and no fucking surrender.

There was no too hard. There was no leaving empty-handed. Raked by barbed and bloody thorns, Markus built his fucking ramp and he did so with stolid and unwavering focus, ignoring each cut that came his way, each vine that tried to add to his torment, to overwhelm him.

He couldn’t be overwhelmed. He couldn’t be overcome.

And he wouldn’t fall to a bunch of fucking plants after taking on the things he had. That would be fucking ridiculous.

In seconds, Markus had constructed the ramp of his dreams. In this case, that means a functioning one.

He didn’t waste time. He pushed the chest down and off the balcony with a mighty heave, watching as it slid and shuffled its way down the ramp and zoomed clear of the room into the near darkness, until a torch in the distance bobbed and bounced its way in the container’s direction.

Okay, fuck. The strain that ramp took to maintain…

And I have about fifty thorns in me right now. Holy shit.

Only one thing for it.

Markus cast Frozen Tomb, freezing off the plants clutching to him until they began to violently snap away from his flesh, then eyeing the edge of the balcony and the drop that waited for him. 

He’d held off on using his aura effect until now, aware of how the ice might affect his jumps and impact his landing, but now, ramp at the ready, he had a choice to make.

He could put faith in his own mana and his own ability to maintain focus, or he could try to stick the landing and simply jump down. Both had the potential to go terribly wrong. But one truly asked him to believe in himself if he was going to see it through.

“Shitshitshitshitfuckshittt!” Markus flailed and panted as he slid down the ramp, eyes squeezed shut, focussing so hard on maintaining the ramp he’d built that any wherewithal of the pain shooting through him all but left his mind. There was only him and the wind rushing past his face, the construct gleaming in his mind, the destination in sight…

He wooshed out of the room even as the freshly invigorated plants coalesced together in an attempt to seize him, each of them shooting from a different side of the room in an attempt to pin him down in the middle, smashing into each other in the process.

As Markus landed at the edge of the room, ramp dissipating as he rolled twice, he pushed himself up to his knees, glancing back only to see the product of his actions.

Each side of the room’s vines had snaked together in the centre of the room attempting to pin him, and now they were all mashed and tied together. The moment he left their range, they began to grow still, becoming dormant once more as the presence before them had finally subsided.

Markus almost wanted to [Detonate] the mass inside just to dunk on it, but he decided to hold onto the mana. He had a feeling he’d need it for whatever came next.

Still, there was fuckloads more treasure in that room behind that metal gate, and he’d definitely be coming back for it. That encounter had been terrifying, but it was a challenge Markus was more than willing to take on.

He channelled [Reforge] into his injured leg for a time, soothing the pained wound until it felt good enough to walk on, then limped his way over to the locked chest, sitting down and staring at it.

He gave it a little shake, but it wasn’t budging. It was fucking solid, too. Chances he was smashing his way through it were pretty thin, and he didn’t wanna chance it either way. Its contents could be destroyed in the process.

“Don’t suppose you know how to pick locks?” he ventured to the imp, though he only shook his head in turn.

“Not ones like that. They’re special, and they’ve got a fuckton of cyllinders. Made with a bespoke key in mind. Kind of thing rich people use to guard their valuables.”

Well, shit. Even if the key was back where they’d came from and he’d missed it, he wasn’t going back in there looking any time soon. He was already injured enough as is.

That said, Markus hadn’t gone through all that just to delay finding out what he’d gotten for all his efforts. Besides, he had the infinite applications of mana sitting at his fingertips, and he could use a few minutes of doing something other than running around fighting for his life.

And so Markus sat before the chest, crossed his legs, and started thinking up a way to get this fucker open.