Grand Game 319: Seeds of Corruption (Patreon)

Your elemental absorption has increased to level 85.

A frost ent has died.

You have reached level 165!

Less than a minute after I fled the field the elite died. Of course, no loot chest appeared. I’d not killed the frost ent myself, after all.

But somewhat to my surprise, I earned a level from the battle. After a moment’s thought, though, I realized it was a result of the crawlers I’d charmed during the encounter. This time around, I invested the new attribute in Magic. With a channeling spell in my arsenal, the additional mana would not go unspent.

Your Magic has increased to rank 22. Other modifiers: +14 from items.

Safely tucked behind the sharp bend in the canyon, and with Ghost by my side, I watched the stygians closely to see what they would do next.

First, they ate their dead.

Or perhaps, inhaled was a better term for it. In this sector, outside the Nethersphere, the stygians’ bodies didn’t possess any real mass, and after the crawlers were done, the bodies of their slain fellows vanished entirely.

“That explains why we saw no evidence of the attackers earlier,” I murmured.

“But what caused the wounds on the corpses?” Ghost asked, studying the crawlers as raptly as me.

“I suspect we’re about to find out,” I replied, pointing to the handful of stygians crawling over the ent’s body.

Some of the crawlers were burrowing deep into the corpse’s innards, others were tugging free long stretches of skin and muscle. It was a revolting sight, and having no desire to watch the nether creatures feasts, I almost turned away in disgust.

But then, I realized I was wrong.

The stygians weren’t eating. They were harvesting the ent’s remains.

Stripping free manageable chunks of meat from the corpse, the crawlers held them aloft in their legs—upturned to point skyward—and carted them away. I frowned. It was the strangest behavior by far that I’d seen from the stygians yet.

What are they up to?

Puzzled, I watched the fully ladened crawlers—each with every third set of legs loaded with meat—gather at the far end of the dead colossal. What use did the stygians have for the ent’s remains, I wondered.  They couldn’t possibly be feeding something with it, could they?

“There aren’t many crawlers left,” Ghost interjected. “Will you attack now?”

I broke free from my musings and tallied the nether creatures’ numbers. There were perhaps three dozen left. A lot, but still within my means to kill—especially armed with the ent’s spell.

Still, I shook my head. “We wait for them to leave, then we follow.”

My gaze found the meat haulers again. The crawlers were not on a simple hunt-and-destroy mission. They were gathering supplies for... something, and if I had to guess, that ‘something’ was waiting for them back at their base.

And I wanted to know where that was.

Ghost eyed me doubtfully. “You want to follow them? Is that wise? What if they join up with others and end up being too many to kill?”

“That’s possible,” I admitted. “Probable even. But I’m hoping the crawlers will lead us back to their nest. Finding it is more important than killing a few dozen of them.”

In all likelihood, the stygian’s nest was in the central fog bank, but that covered an area of a square mile. Too large to search easily, and besides, I could be wrong about what the crawlers planned on doing with their grisly burdens or where they were going with it.

I studied the stygians anew. They were still gathering, and I judged I had a few more minutes before they were ready to depart. “Will you keep watch?” I asked. “I need to attend to something before we set off.”

“I will let you know once they start moving,” Ghost promised and settled down beside me.

Nodding in thanks, I turned my focus inwards and called on my mana. I had a new spell, and it needed safekeeping.

Adhering to my will, my magic formed the weaves of the cold sphere spell. A silent passenger to the casting, I waited patiently while my mana worked. The spell finished in a flash, weaves charged and ready. Taking hold of them, I projected the casting, not outward and around me in a bubble of cold, but inwards and into the ring on my finger.

Spellhold enchantment activated.

You have successfully stored the cold sphere spell in the ring, mage’s surprise. This spell may now be trigger-cast when required.

Note, cold sphere is a channeled spell and therefore, after it is initially triggered, the casting will draw from your mana pool in order to remain active.

I smiled. I hadn’t been entirely sure my new ring would be able to capture stolen spells, and I was just glad it had worked. Now, even after I lost knowledge of the cold sphere spell, I’d be able to cast it again—for one more instance anyway.

I glanced up. The stygians were not done yet. Realizing I still had more time, I closed my eyes and set about restoring my defenses.

✵ ✵ ✵

You have healed yourself of all injuries. Your health is at 100%.

You have restored 100% of your psi.

You have replenished 73% of your mana. Void armor charges remaining: 73%.

“Prime, they’re moving.”

Nudged alert by Ghost’s warning, I opened my eyes. The stygians had turned around and were headed back up the canyon.

I rose into a crouch. “Go,” I ordered. “Don’t let them out of your sight. I’ll follow in a second.”

There was little chance the stygians would spot the spirit wolf, and it was best I maintained a healthy distance between me and the crawlers in case of any untoward surprises. Ghost raced forward and when I judged her far enough away, I set off after her.

The stygians left no physical trail to follow, and if not for the fact that Ghost and I kept them in our sights, we would have lost them altogether. When they came to a split in the canyon, the crawlers unhesitatingly chose the left fork, and a little later turned left again down a narrow chasm. An hour later, they had navigated a dozen twists and turns, all without slowing down.

Trailing silently in the nether creatures’ wake, my brows furrowed thoughtfully. The stygians knew the dungeon well—much better than I expected. I, on the other hand, was thoroughly lost and would have been worried if I didn’t know I could reorient myself using the plateau above.

“They’ve stopped,” Ghost reported.

I glanced up in surprise. Up ahead, I could see Ghost, but not the stygians themselves. We had traveled an appreciable distance, but I was sure we were nowhere near the central fog bank. So why had the crawlers stopped?

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” Ghost paused. “There are other stygians here. This might be the nest you were looking for.”

I frowned. A narrow chasm was the last place I expected the stygians to nest. “The others, are they crawlers too?”

Palpable silence, then, “No.”

I began moving forward again. “I’ll be there shortly.”

✵ ✵ ✵

Reaching Ghost’s side, I found myself staring into a fog bank. Not the large central one, but one of its smaller kin. Although from this vantage, ‘small’ was not the word I’d choose to describe it.

The fog bank stretched from one wall of the chasm to the other. Nor was its presence confined to ground level. A towering spire, the nether stretched upwards to wrap the chasm’s full height with billowing clouds of gray, completely obscuring what lay beyond.

I glared at the free-floating nether. From up above, on the plateau, the small fog banks had appeared to measure only a few dozen yards in diameter, but down here, in the chasm’s depths, there was no telling how widely it had expanded.

Nor what monsters it hid.

“Describe what you see, Ghost,” I said grimly.

She looked at me perplexed. “The stygians are in clear view.”

“They’re in a cloud of nether,” I explained.

“Oh, I see.” The spirit wolf’s ears pricked up attentively. “Are we inside the cloud right now?”

“Not yet, but the path ahead is brimming with the stuff,” I replied glumly and went on to describe what I’d seen from the plateau.

“So that is what you meant by fog,” she said.

I nodded. “But enough of the nether. Tell me what you see.”

Ghost’s gaze swung forward again. “The crawlers have met up with six other stygians.”

I frowned. Only six? This couldn’t be the stygian’s base, then. Not the main one, anyway. “Describe them.”

“They’re large,” she opinioned. “About as big as the hydras perhaps, and with six barbed legs and two stick-thin pincers for arms.”

I didn’t recognize the stygians Ghost described, nor could I try analyzing them just yet. We were more than fifty yards away from the fog bank and the creatures were out of range of my mindsight. “What are the six doing?”

“They’re standing in a circle.” Ghost hesitated. “Guarding something maybe? Whatever it is, I can’t quite—” She broke off. “Oow, I see it now. It’s small, shiny, and so dark. Blacker than your sword,” she finished, sounding fascinated.

“A seed,” I hissed. “A damnable stygian seed.” I’d seen one only once—that time I’d entered a rift with Simone’s party—but it had left an impression, and I had no trouble recognizing that was what Ghost described.

“What’s a stygian seed?” a confused Ghost asked.

I waved aside her question. “I’ll explain later.” What was a seed doing here? Were the stygians trying to create a rift?

Or had they formed one already?

I wasn’t sure. I didn’t know enough about the seeds to guess at this one’s purpose. Nor, I reminded myself, did I know how the stygians were entering Draven’s Reach. I’d assumed they had breached the sector’s barrier and were streaming in directly from the surrounding nether. But what if they were using rifts to fuel their invasion instead?

It was certainly a possibility.

Still, regardless of why this seed was here, I knew it had to be destroyed. First though, I needed more information. “What are the stygians doing with the ent’s remains?”

Ghost wrinkled her nose. “They’re packing the dead flesh around the seed.”

Urgh. My own lips curled in disgust. Were the stygians trying to hide the seed—or feed it? Did the seeds even need feeding?

It was something else I didn’t know.

I sighed, realizing my knowledge of the stygians was sorely lacking. I would have to rectify that when I could, but for now, my ignorance was merely one more factor I had to take into account in the upcoming battle.

I inched forward carefully. Before I kicked things off, I needed to know the levels of the seed’s guards.

“The crawlers are leaving,” Ghost said abruptly.

Mid-motion, I froze. “Are they coming back this way?”

“No, they’re heading deeper into the chasm.”

I relaxed. “Perfect,” I said, then settled down to wait.

✵ ✵ ✵

Five minutes later, the crawlers disappeared entirely from Ghost’s field of view. That left only the six seed guards for me to deal with.

Returning my shortsword, faithful, to my backpack, I equipped my stygian blade. The nether creatures were immune to physical damage, and even ebonheart would not hurt them.

Next, I considered the enchantment crystals on my belt. After a moment of silent debate, I decided to forgo using any of them. Given what I’d surmised already of the nether’s presence in the sector, I suspected the toxicity of the fog bank ahead was low, making this an ideal opportunity to train my nether absorption skill.

Lastly, I recast my buffs and stalked forward.

Six hostile entities have failed to detect you! You are hidden.

At the Game’s message, I halted. I was still more than fifty yards from the edge of the fog bank. “Have the six stygians changed position?”

“No,” Ghost replied. “Only two are facing you. The other four are looking in other directions.”

“Tell me if that changes,” I murmured. Resuming my advance, I padded forward until my mindsight triggered.

Two bright mindglows had crossed the edge of my awareness. I paused to consider them for a moment, but seeing as they remained still and unmoving, I crept forward another few steps.

Four more minds entered into range.

Drawing to a halt, I considered the stygians ahead. Mindsight reported all six creatures to be stationary, and like Ghost had said, they were deployed in a circle, four guarding the east and west approaches along the chasm while the other two watched cliff walls. Reaching out with my mind I analyzed the closest one.

The target is a level 182 stygian weaver.

“A weaver,” I mused. It was another type of stygian I didn’t recognize. Sending out further strands of my will, I inspected the other nearby hostiles.

They too were weavers, and they too were rank eighteen creatures.

Six rank eighteen foes. I rubbed my chin thoughtfully. Defeating the seed’s guards was certainly doable, but the outcome was by no means assured. I turned my gaze upon the fog bank.

I was about twenty yards from its edge. Assuming the seed was in its center, that meant the nether cloud measured about forty yards from end to end. Not as large as I’d feared, which was good news at least.

I crept forward again. There was one more thing to verify before I initiated combat, and that was ascertaining the toxicity of the nether.

Reaching the fog back, I slipped past its outer edge.

Six hostile entities have failed to detect you!

Warning: You have entered the nether! The nether toxicity at your current location is at tier 2. You are unprotected. Your health, psi, stamina, and mana are degenerating at a rate of 15% per minute.

You have failed a magical resistance check!

Your void armor has reduced the nether damage incurred by 20%.

Tier two. The fog bank itself posed no threat. In fact, if not for how the free-floating nether impaired my line of sight, it would have little bearing on the outcome of the battle.

Smiling, I retreated. It was time to plan my assault.