Chapter 191 - Frustration (Patreon)

Talia jogged through the desert, her course parallel to the group of refugees Abby and Carlos were leading back to Jariq. As she did, her normally placid mind roiled with frustration. She felt forgotten. Discarded. Tossed aside because she didn’t fit in. The refugees, she understood. They’d lost so much at the hands of the undead army, and in their traumatized minds, Talia was no different from the creatures who’d killed their friends and families. However, she had expected more from her own companions.

Was it too much to ask that she be included? That someone ask her opinion? She didn’t think so, but everyone else seemed to think of her as, at best, a tool to be used. At worst, she was a burden to be hidden. The group, in all its infinite wisdom, had chosen the latter tact, with Abby telling her to stay in the tower, alone and unwanted. And for a while, she had done just that. But even monsters could succumb to boredom, and hers was bolstered by indignation, frustration, and a healthy portion of anger.

Or given that it had driven her to follow the group, shadowing their every move, and doing so from afar, perhaps it wasn’t so healthy.

Talia wanted to care. She wanted to be normal. She wanted to go back to being the person she was before her world had been turned upside down by the transformation that had been forced upon her. But that wasn’t possible. She could scarcely remember how to be that old version of her, much less come up with a way to embrace whatever humanity she had left.

No – she was a monster. She’d proven that dozens of times, and each time she consumed a heart, she felt herself drifting further down that dark path. For now, she was restrained enough to control herself, but for how long? Eventually, she would succumb. It was only a matter of time. She could only hope that, when that day came, she could direct her monstrous tendencies away from her companions.

The only one who seemed to understand her was Zeke, but he had his own issues. He was busy fighting his own battles and wrestling with his own demons. She wasn’t altogether certain how much he’d changed in the demon realm – outwardly, he looked much the same, save for the golden flecks she sometimes saw in his eyes – but it was clear that he’d experienced a transformation that, in some ways, rivaled her own. Talia liked to imagine that even as she struggled to retain her humanity, he did as well.

Or perhaps she was merely projecting her own insecurities. Either way, she felt closer to Zeke than to anyone else. He had become something akin to an older brother. It was ironic, though, because she’d had quite a few actual brothers, though they’d all been sacrificed in her mother’s quest to resurrect her father. She never knew any of them, though. They’d been so much older, and they’d all had their own lives in other parts of the world, leading her down the road to an extremely isolated life.

As she ran, she pondered these and many more issues, all the while keeping her senses trained on the desert around her. At first glance, it seemed wholly unlivable, but it housed plenty of monsters. And even if she wasn’t technically part of the refugee party, she’d taken it upon herself to protect them.

Her attention was rewarded when she caught a glimpse of something in the distance. At first, it seemed like little more than a smudge on the horizon, but it slowly resolved itself into a group of monsters that seemed to be on a collision course with the slowly moving group of refugees. Talia raced to intercept. After she drew close enough to see the creatures clearly, she slowed to a stop so she could get a closer look. And what she saw was a little disturbing.

After using her inspection skill, she saw that the pack of monsters were called desert wolves, and most of them ranged from levels twenty-three to twenty-five, with one elite alpha at the center of the pack of twenty or so creatures. As far as appearance, they looked like a cross between lizards and canines, though skewed in favor of the former, with a row of jagged spikes along their backs and long tails. The alpha was bright green, with orange stripes, while the rest were a muddy brown with slightly darker splotches along their ribs.

Talia hesitated for a brief moment, wondering whether she wanted to wait to engage until after Abby and Carlos noticed the threat. That would have been much safer, but it would’ve also revealed the fact that she’d been following them. Right now, the pack of desert wolves were far enough away that the other group hadn’t noticed them, but that wouldn’t be true for much longer.

Figuring that she could always retreat if the pack proved too much to handle, Talia made her decision. She darted forward, her torso low to the ground and her claws outstretched. As she did, she activated [Alacrity of Undeath] and [Plague Strike]. The first increased her agility while the second coated her claws in vivid green venom that would poison anything she managed to scratch.

In seconds, she covered the distance between where she’d stopped and the pack of desert wolves, crashing into the first monster with a momentous swipe of claws that sheered through its ribs and fractured its spine before sending it tumbling into one of its fellows. As one, the pack turned on her, and for a moment, she was nearly overwhelmed by a host of snapping jaws.

Talia was faster than them, but only just enough that she managed to avoid most of their attacks. She took a few nips here and there, but she barely felt them – one of the many benefits of her undead nature. She wasn’t immune to pain, but she could mostly ignore all but the worst of it during a fight.

Activating [Chill of Undeath], she danced between the monstrous lizard-wolves, dragging her claws across each one. She didn’t need to penetrate too deeply – just enough to infect the creatures with her poison and the effects of [Chill of Undeath]. As their wounds, shallow though they were, began to accumulate, the wolves’ movements gradually slowed. [Chill of Undeath] didn’t really do any damage on its own, but what it lacked in pure firepower, it more than made up for in utility by freezing muscles and decreasing an opponent’s speed. That played right into Talia’s usual hit-and-run battle tactics, making her already-prodigious agility that much more effective. Coupled with her [Plague Strike], which gradually spread poison and decay from any wounds, and Talia could easily whittle most foes down to nothing.

The exception, of course, were elite- and boss-tier monsters who had increased resistances to her skills’ effects. With them, she could get the same results, but it often took more than a couple of flesh wounds. And given Talia’s overall mood, that was perfectly fine by her.

Once the members of the pack began to falter, some even tumbling to the desert ground, Talia’s path to the alpha materialized. She shot forward, dodging a few snapping jaws along the way. As she narrowly avoided the lizard-wolves’ attacks, her claws flashed, easily slicing through flesh and bone alike. Finally, she made it to the alpha and launched into her first attack.

It didn’t go as she had expected, though, and her claws met with only air. Meanwhile, the sand beneath Talia’s feet started to ominously vibrate, and before she could react, shapes grew out of the earth, resolving themselves into sand sculpture versions of the other desert wolves. Her unbeating heart leapt into her throat as fear finally charged through her formidable defenses. Panic flooding her mind, she counted her new opponents.

One. Two. Three. She gave up at eight, and they were still rising.

It was then that she considered retreat. The sand versions of the lizard-wolves moved, faster and with more surety than their scaly brethren. Talia dodged the first attack, which was meant to hamstring her; she saw the monster coming a mile away, so she easily avoided it, her own claws slashing out as she whirled away. She clipped the creature in the shoulder, but even as she felt her [Plague Strike] take hold, she knew it was a poor weapon against the inorganic monsters. The rot surged, blackening the immediate area surrounding the shallow cut, but it was quickly subsumed by the sand. The monster was similarly unaffected by the [Chill of Undeath] that accompanied the strike.

Talia’s stomach clenched as she realized how ill-suited she was to fighting the creatures, and with that at the forefront of her mind, she decided that discretion was the better part of valor. Her choice made, Talia wove her way through the monsters, hoping to get clear.

The alpha had other plans.

Suddenly, a wall of solid sandstone erupted from the ground, barring Talia’s way. Even as she leapt, trying to clear it, the wall grew higher and higher, eventually topping out at more than fifty feet. Talia, seeing no options, kicked off the wall, flipping backwards in a long arcing descent. She landed next to the alpha. Her hands blurred as she attacked in rapid succession, connecting a handful of times. But for every wound she landed, she missed three or four times.

Talia wasn’t deterred, though. In fact, it almost felt like her heart had begun to beat, she was so excited for the challenge. Of course, that excitement was mitigated by the rapidly closing desert wolves. Those comprised of sand or flesh alike rushed toward her, jaws snapping, and dry, hissing barks erupting from their throats. Talia pushed herself to her limit, avoiding the attacks she could but resolving to endure the ones she couldn’t. It was a painful sacrifice, but with so many attackers, it was necessary.

The only attacks she refused to let land were those coming from the alpha. If it managed to bite down, the damage would be far too severe to endure. It was just one more thing to track as she gradually began whittling down her enemies. The sand wolves were functionally immune to her skills, but if she landed attacks just right, she could tear a chunk of their bodies away. If she did that enough, they would collapse into a pile of sand.

Was it perfect? No. Not at all. She much preferred enemies of flesh and bone. But Talia prided herself on her martial prowess. Sure, she couldn’t stand toe-to-toe with a monster like Zeke – not on pure stats alone, especially without [Avatar of the Beast] fueling her own attributes – but she’d been training under a true master for most of her life. That counted for something, and allowed her to leverage her large pool of agility and dexterity to great effect.

She was a whirling dervish of claws, feet, and, on a couple of occasions, even teeth.  As the battle wore on, her leather armor was ripped asunder, and her pale skin was stained green with her blood. Still, she pressed on, slowly eroding the forces stacked against her. And eventually, after a couple of hours mired in the melee, she and the alpha were the only ones left.

Backing away, the monster let out a hissing growl, its head low to the ground. Talia responded with a snarl of her own as she crouched, her claws, dripping with mingled blood and poison, outstretched. The alpha was wounded, one of its back legs incapable of bearing its weight. But Talia was little better off; if she’d been a living, breathing human, she would’ve long since succumbed to her own wounds, which crisscrossed her body, dragging lines of green blood and ragged flesh across her pale skin.

For too long, Talia had been entirely dependent on Zeke’s skills. Whether it was the [Leech Strike] granted by his [Mark of Companionship] or [Avatar of the Beast], which sent her stats skyrocketing past any reasonable level, she had begun to take them for granted. In a lot of ways, she’d used them as a crutch. Now, though, without them propping her up, she had a chance to prove – to herself, if no one else – that she could wield true power. That kind of thing wasn’t as important to her as it was to Abby, but it was an irrefutable fact that, in their world, power trumped all. If she wanted to live with any kind of security, she needed to be strong enough to dissuade any challengers.

Sure, they would fear her. The reactions of the refugees had hammered that home, even if her experiences in Jariq, where she was forced to hide her nature, hadn’t. But that was inevitable, due to her very nature. Strength would keep them from acting on that fear.

With that in mind, Talia launched herself toward the desert wolf, swaying to the side when it countered her charge with one of its own. As she did so, her claws swept along its flank, dragging long furrows in its scaly skin, eliciting a spray of red blood. Creeping rot followed in its wake, spreading from the wounds even as a biting cold infected its musculature, causing cramps and numbness.

It wasn’t enough, though, and despite Talia’s inhuman endurance – driven by the stat as well as her undead nature – had begun to flag. In a battle of attrition, the wolf had the advantage. Monsters were stronger, faster, and more durable than their counterparts amongst humanity, and their stamina didn’t lag far behind. No – if she wanted to survive, Talia needed to end the fight soon.

It was a good thing, then, that she’d held her final trump card in reserve. [Circle of Decay] was an incredibly powerful skill, and one she’d used liberally since her transformation into a revenant. However, it wasn’t without its own weaknesses, chiefly that it was limited in how often it could be used. Because of that, she often held it back, relying on her other skills until it became clear that she needed more. Such a time had come.

However, throughout the battle, she had felt something stirring inside of her. It had begun with an dim awareness of her skills – specifically, [Plague Strike] – but it had soon resolved into something deeper. Something incredibly powerful. Something that promised understanding on a level she could scarcely comprehend. She only had to reach out and embrace it.

As she readied her skill and leapt forward, Talia did just that. Immediately, she felt a bone-deep understanding of [Circle of Decay] – enough that she could guide it forward. Usually, the skill manifested in a wave of black death, but as she finally activated it, she wrestled it into a more concentrated, focused form.

A beam of pure, black death took the desert wolf in the snout, and for a brief second, nothing happened. Disappointed, Talia spun, aiming a kick at the monster’s head. It failed to dodge away – a curiosity in itself – and when her heel connected, the creature’s face broke apart in a shower of blackened flesh, infected blood, and shattered bones.

It fell, dead and unmoving, a moment later.

The walls fell with a crash of sand, burying Talia up to her knees. But she paid it no mind. Instead, her thoughts were focused on a pair of new notifications:

Fused Path (Martial and Mystic): Decay (Novice – Early): You have embraced your nature as a being of death and decay. Continue on your path of self-discovery. +10 Strength, Dexterity, Intelligence, and Wisdom.

Talia was aware of martial and mystic paths; her mother was reputed to be well into the next stage of a mystic path, and Silas had revealed that he’d progressed past the novice stage of his martial path. However, she’d never even heard of a fused path. The stat increases were amazing, but she was more interested in how the path had affected her skill. The next notification revealed the details:

[Flood of Death] (F) – Evolved from [Circle of Death], this skill may be used in much the same way, sending a pulse of pure destruction in a circle around the user. However, it may also be focused into a beam that increases the destructive power by sacrificing the area of effect. Upgradable.

Talia let out a rattling, raspy, and ultimately unnecessary breath. [Circle of Death] was already a potent skill, and it had just gotten stronger. She desperately wanted to experiment, but she was already on the verge of collapse. The longer she put off dealing with that, the more onerous the process would be. So, collapsing to her knees beside the desert wolf, she deactivated her skills and, with her sharp claws, dug into its chest. After a minute or so, she emerged with a still warm heart.

She took a bite, activating [Focused Reformation] as she did, and savored the feeling of her wounds beginning to heal. That, and she had to admit that the irony taste of the hearts was beginning to grow on her. There was just something about the feel of her teeth ripping into the dense organs that sang to her. Blood dripping down her chin, Talia soon devoured the heart, but her skill needed more fuel. In that respect, monster hearts weren’t nearly as potent as those of sapient people. So, she soon fell upon the other desert wolves, harvesting the hearts well after her wounds had fully healed.