Chapter 123 - More than a Distraction (Patreon)

Talia skirted the edges of the cavern, carefully keeping just far enough away from the walls so that their creeping vines couldn’t reach her. She wasn’t certain if they were connected to the patriarch in the same way as the more ambulatory myconids, but she wasn’t going to take the chance. Slipping around the perimeter, she hoped she remained unnoticed. Otherwise, her plan would require a few adjustments.

Not that there was much chance of that, of course – not with Zeke roaring and hammering the rubbery mushroom man with his mace. The armored warrior had plenty of faults, but getting a monster’s attention seemed to be one of his talents. It was a good thing that he was so adept at survival, because of both his skills and stats, because he was particularly adept at drawing his enemies’ attention – especially when they were semi-sapient, almost unthinking monsters.

And that suited Talia just fine. Because of her utter lack of vitality, she found herself unwilling to test the limits of her endurance. Certainly, she had [Focused Reformation], Tucker’s potions, and the ability to absorb vitality by consuming her enemies’ hearts. However, without those things, she would be little more than a rapidly degenerating corpse. Over the course of their journey, she had discovered that her body could maintain equilibrium with the decay, but only if she didn’t exert herself and came upon no bodily harm – neither of which was really an option. Not even if she was still ensconced in the Temple of the Sun, where she’d lived a life of relative luxury and ease, and certainly not in the wilderness. On top of that, her companions had no intentions of slowing down or avoiding danger, so if she wanted to remain a part of the group, she had to do so as well.

Of course, that was precisely what she’d always wanted. Going back as far as she could remember, Talia had dreamed of being a wandering adventurer, a frontline warrior who could hold her own in any given fight. And now that she had it, she wasn’t so certain that she’d ever thought of the ramifications or costs of actually getting what she so desperately wanted.

As a healer, she could’ve progressed in relative safety. The experience she’d gained while learning in the Church of Purity had been miniscule in comparison to what she got from killing monsters, but it was steady, nonetheless. It would’ve taken a while to reach the pinnacle, but Talia was the daughter of one of the most powerful people in the world; evolution wouldn’t be a problem for her, and as such, she’d had a long life ahead of her. It would have been the safer, more prudent path.

But not for Talia.

Even with her emotions dampened by her new race, she felt a spike of whatever passed for adrenaline in her new body as she circled the mushroom monster that could flatten her with relative ease. Across the nest, which was crawling with tiny, vermin-like myconids, she saw Pudge moving like a shadow, mirroring her own path. The bear was getting huge, but he’d taken well to mimicking the snow leopards he clearly idolized. According to Zeke, he hardly ever shut up about being a “ninja bear,” whatever that was supposed to mean.

Of course, Zeke had tried to explain to her about ancient, Japanese assassins, but there was clearly something lost in the retelling, because she couldn’t see the draw. It wasn’t the first time she’d felt out-of-place amongst those reborn from Earth, and she suspected it wouldn’t be the last. The only consolation was that, according to everyone she’d asked about it back in Beacon, memories of the old world seemed to fade with enough time. It was to the point where her mother and Master Silas could scarcely remember more than the broadest strokes. So, eventually, that gap would be bridged between her and her chosen companions. Or that was her fervent hope, at least. She already felt like an outsider – a monster, really. And anything that would help her find common ground with other people would be welcome.

But first, a mushroom monster. Then, she’d fight the ephemeral other-ness that haunted her every moment. The fungal patriarch seemed the easier enemy, if she was honest.

After a few more seconds of circling the monster, Talia found herself behind the creature. Or rather, what she assumed was its back. It was difficult to tell, because it didn’t have a face or eyes or any other features to suggest which side was its front. Either way, it seemed pretty safe to assume that the patriarch was facing the armed and armored man whose every swing of his mace tore a chunk of rubbery flesh from its stalk. It felt pretty safe to assume that he had its full attention, because its tendrils – or arms, maybe – were flailing wildly against Zeke’s armored form. In addition, almost-solid jets of spores, emanating from all around, would periodically assail him. Against anyone else, it would’ve been a deadly assault, but Zeke seemed tailor-made to withstand the attacks, whether it was due to the increased resistances Talia had only recently learned about, his armor, or his insane endurance.

Whatever the case, Talia was free to attack without any real danger, though that wouldn’t last. However much ire the Patriarch held for Zeke, it would soon give way to hatred for Talia the moment she unleashed the full gamut of her abilities – at least if the other myconids were any indication. The moment she unleashed [Circle of Death], it would turn on her; so, she had to be careful about when she did so.

After taking a moment to settle her nerves, Talia rushed forward, her feet silent on the oddly springy ground. She ignored the oddity, instead focusing on the task at hand. With a mental flick, she activated [Plague Strike], and immediately, her fingers – no, claws; she had claws, now – dripped with a green sheen. Then, she toggled [Alacrity of Undeath], relishing the increase in both her speed and perception. Everything around her seemed to slow down even as she felt herself speed up. The movements were a bit jerky, owing to the fact that she hadn’t quite gotten used to it yet, but they were effective nonetheless. In an instant, she was upon the mushroom monster, raking her claws back and forth with such speed that she imagined herself as a blur to anyone else’s perception.

But it wasn’t enough to eviscerate one part of the monster. She needed to spread the effects of [Plague Strike] as thoroughly as she could. So, over the next few moments, she alternated between one column-like leg and the other, working her way up until she reached the monster’s trunk-like torso.

That was when it seemed to notice her.

Suddenly, a pair of new sharp-tipped tendrils erupted from the patriarch’s trunk, rushing toward her with enough speed that they seemed fast, even to her increased perception. Talia dodged one, but the other speared her through her left shoulder, pushing her high into the air. Owing to her muted nerves, she barely felt it. Instead, she raked out with her claws, severing the tendril in a couple of swipes.

The danger wasn’t finished, though. Even as she dropped to the ground, the remainder of the tendril wiggled once, then tried to burrow further into her. With a cry of surprise, Talia gripped it and yanked, throwing it aside. However, that brief moment of distraction was all that was necessary to seal her fate. With a mighty stomp, the Myconid Patriarch sent a wave of rippling reverberations throughout the living cave. And every surface came alive in an instant. The creeping and crawling, pest-like myconids surged as one, and the vines slithered forward to deal with the attackers.

Prone as she was, there was little Talia could do when those vines wrapped themselves around her arms and legs and the myconid vermin surged atop her, burying her in a musty, earthy cocoon. Suddenly, her placid emotions were overwhelmed by the sheer panic at the prospect of being buried alive. Or un-alive. Whatever the case, she was terrified, and in a way she’d rarely experienced before. The only thing that had come close was when she’d begun to realize just what the abyss was before her resurrection, but even that was muted by that strange, placid state of mind that had come with the place. There was nothing mitigating Talia’s panic as she was pulled deeper into the mass of vines, the tiny myconids trying their best to burrow into her skin. Thankfully, her endurance was high enough that they made no headway, but more than a few of them managed to find the wound in her shoulder.

And her mouth. Her ears. And eyes. It was enough to send her non-existent heartbeat to new heights.

Luckily, Talia wasn’t alone – a fact that she was forced to acknowledge when she heard a familiar sizzling sound, followed by the mass of vines disintegrating all around her. Even the myconids who’d crawled into her various orifices dissipated into dirt and ash, leaving her buried in a pile of refuse. Over her, Tucker stood, offering his hand.

“Sorry,” he said. “Would’ve been sooner if I hadn’t had to get Zeke free first.”

Talia nodded, then took the man’s offered hand. He yanked her to her feet, and she saw that Zeke was still standing toe-to-toe with the Myconid Patriarch, though his armor seemed worse for wear. All across his breastplate, spider-webbing cracks had appeared. His shield was nowhere to be seen, and one of his gauntlets was gone. Still, though, the man stoically hammered at the myconid, steadily ripping chunks of its fleshy torso away.

It wasn’t doing any good, though. As impressive as Zeke’s strength was – and it truly was impressive, even for someone who’d grown up around the legends of the Radiant Isles – the fight wouldn’t be won via strength alone. The Myconid Patriarch was an elite-tier monster, and as such, it had the mass and endurance to fight for days, if necessary. On top of that, it had an entire nest at its disposal. They needed to end the fight, and quickly, lest they get overrun by a flood of lesser mushroom monsters.

And that meant it was Talia’s time to shine.

Already, her [Plague Strike] had withered the flesh of the myconid’s legs. It wasn’t enough to incapacitate the monster, but it had weakened the appendages. Soon, though, its elite-tier vitality would go to work on the injuries. And that, coupled with Zeke’s constant assault, meant that it was more vulnerable now than it was likely to ever get.

“As soon as I use my skill, throw one of your mushroom-killing grenades at it,” Talia said.

“They’re called [Fungicide Bombs],” he said. “Not mushroom-killing –”

“I don’t care,” she said. “Just do it.”

“Fine.”

With that covered, Talia readied her skill, then ran forward. When she was close enough, she leapt, and using her claws, latched onto the monster’s back. It went wild, various tendrils erupting from its torso as well as from its capped head. However, Talia held on for dear life for long enough that she released [Circle of Death].

Not for the first time, she was thankful for [Mark of Companionship], which she’d been elated to learn excluded Zeke and her other teammates from the effects of her own skills. Without it, she would be too afraid to use it around her companions. But now? She could use it without worrying about melting her friends’ flesh, which was always a good thing. Zeke could probably survive it, but she had no illusions about Pudge, Abby, or Tucker, though if the last were to somehow meet with an accident, she wouldn’t be terribly put out.

Just as she used the skill, the monster managed to hit her with a jet of spores that bore into her own stomach only to erupt from the other side.  The momentum ripped her claws free of the monster’s rubbery flesh, sending her flying across the room. However, while she was in mid-air, she saw a pair of Tucker’s grenades crash into the Myconid Patriarch’s trunk, exploding just as her own skill swept over it.

The effect of the two skills working on concert was immediate, sending a wave of decay through the monster. Huge chunks of blackened flesh fell away, making Zeke’s attacks even more devastating. Instead of fist-sized bits, each swing carved deep furrows into the monster’s rapidly decaying body.

But the Myconid Patriarch wasn’t a normal monster. No elite-tier creature could go down without a fight. Even as it was clearly dying, the Myconid Patriarch bore down on Zeke, pummeling it with renewed vigor. It traded each of Zeke’s hammering strikes with a dozen of its own, denting his already-damaged armor with each one. After one vicious combination from seven different tendrils, Zeke was driven to his knees. Then, all at once, the tendrils came together into a huge, tree-trunk sized club of fungal flesh.

The monster was dying. It knew it. The decay had already crossed a threshold, and in its mind, sapient or not, it knew what was coming. So, in one last act of defiance, it would take one of their group with it. Zeke was the only one close enough, so there was no choice who to target.

As the club-like appendage began its rapid descent, Talia screamed. More emotion than she’d felt since eating the giant’s heart erupted in her mind, and she struggled to find her feet. She wouldn’t be in time. She couldn’t save him.

But Pudge could.

The dire bear came out of nowhere, crashing into the myconid with unprecedented force, his momentum born of incredible strength and the mass of an almost fully-grown, carriage sized monster. Even as he tackled the myconid, though, Talia bit her lip hard enough that she pierced the skin. No blood trickled out, though. Not anymore.

The collected tendrils slammed into the ground with a thud of finality, thrown off course by only a foot. It clipped Zeke, but he rolled with the blow, minimizing the damage. Then, unable to withstand Pudge’s full weight on its decaying legs, the Myconid toppled to the ground, where the dire bear began to viciously savage it. Zeke was on it in a couple of moments, swinging his club one-armed, the familiar reddish glow of his life-leeching skill active. Without it, he would be out of commission for days, perhaps weeks.

Talia activated her own, watered down version of the skill and joined them in the slaughter. The only one who stood back was Tucker, who’d remained unharmed throughout the fight. Talia didn’t blame him, though. He wasn’t as durable as the rest of them. And, when push came to shove, he’d saved her. He’d also done his part in taking down the creature.

She drank in the stolen vitality, trickle though it was, and felt it knitting her injuries together. The fallen myconid was too weak to fight back, but it clung to life long enough that Zeke was able to heal himself back to something approaching pristine condition, while Talia’s own efforts closed the wounds in her stomach and chest. She’d probably need to find a heart to consume, and soon, but for now, the skill provided a nice stopgap.

When the monster finally died after almost an hour’s worth of them attacking it, Talia had long since realized just how few groups could’ve managed against such a creature. Never mind the threat of the spores, which would infect and assimilate anyone who didn’t have Tucker’s inoculating potion. But without her decay-themed skills, Zeke’s overwhelming stats, and Tucker’s [Fungicide Grenades], they wouldn’t have stood a chance. Without any one of them, they’d have ended up part of the myconid collective.

And that wasn’t even considering Pudge’s timely intervention.

Talia glanced at the bear, whose shoulders were slumped, with his head low to the ground. “What’s wrong with him?” she asked Zeke, who’d bent down to use his looting ability on the Myconid Patriarch.

Zeke followed her nod to glance at Pudge. Then, he laughed. “No blood or guts,” he said. “He says rolling around in this –”

Zeke indicated the myconid’s corpse, which was little more than a pile of eviscerated, rubbery flesh, before continuing, “It’s like rolling in the dirt, like an animal. But he did get to go full ‘ninja bear,’ so that excited him. He probably won’t ever shut up about it, though.”

“He did save us, though,” she said.

“Don’t remind him,” Zeke said, grinning. “He’s already got a big enough head. And he used our berserking skill without checking with me, which he’s not supposed to do. Right, Pudge?”

The bear pointedly looked away, which drew another laugh from Zeke. For his part, the armored warrior stood up, then summoned a curious-looking ball of vines, which, if Talia looked at it from just the right angle, had wrapped themselves around an elite beast core.

“Ah, the heart,” Tucker said, reaching for it. Zeke gave it over, and the alchemist cradled it like it was a precious gem – which, to him, was probably a decent analogy. “With this, we just might be able to fight that wyrm of yours. Once you get a lot stronger, of course. If you let one of those hit you like you did with that myconid, you’d be paste, glancing blow or not.”

Zeke ran his hand through his hair, saying, “I don’t intend to stop fighting. We’ll be strong enough when we get there. I guarantee it. Plus, we’ll have Abby with us then.”

Left unsaid was that Tucker blatantly didn’t believe they’d ever see the woman again. She’d gone into just as dangerous of a situation as they had, and she’d done so alone. Her odds of survival weren’t good. But Talia couldn’t bring herself to expect the worst. Not even if all the signs pointed in that direction.