Chương 27: Nothing to Worry About

The root haunt had been hiding behind some bushes, half-buried in muck, and its ghosts had been dormant. That was why Malachi figured Arisone hadn't seen it. It burst up out of the swamp, legs made out of a tangle of bones and rotting trunks, its body a mess of roots and more bones. As it stood, it let out a keening sound, and flashes of spectral blue light began to glow all over it. Ghosts of snakes, rats, and lampreys erupted from it, swirling around.

Other ghosts were half-formed, looking like gaping maws on something too malformed to be given a name.

"Run or fight?" he asked.

"Fight," Arisone said.

"I will handle the ghosts. You deal with the body." Malachi's skin prickled as she cast what he was pretty sure was the thorns curse on him. He turned and summoned his aegis and lightning javelin. How effective is lightning against this thing? You ever try using static electricity to kill an elephant? Fuck. SERA-Phasia had already warned him that knocking dead trees on top of a root haunt wouldn't do much either, and that was for a smaller root haunt. This thing was at least twice as big.

One of the ghosts rushed at him, mouth open in a scream, but blue light flashed behind him and the ghost turned away, turning back to flee inside the behemoth thing. Malachi hurled a javelin at it, then summoned another one. SERA was right. It hadn't done anything. To be fair, he was pretty sure that the longsword he'd scrapped for magic crystals wouldn't have done much either, setting aside the problem of it setting him on fire if he'd used it. The root haunt raised a thick leg.

Malachi dove to the side as it slammed down. His aegis had trouble deflecting that ice-dagger rain. He wasn't sure it could properly hold against that kind of weight. Another piece of the root haunt—not a leg, but some sort of arm made of vines and thin shards of bone, stabbed at him, and as he rose, he did put up the magical aegis. A burst of light erupted from the shield, but it did hold. He slashed at the vine several times with his javelin, the electric tip of the blade passing through the creature.

The vine crackled with electricity. Tell me that's doing damage, he thought. Yeah. A little. Another trunk leg came smashing toward him, and this time he ran around the abomination. The problem was, it didn't have a face. It didn't even need to turn to lumber after him, it just started moving in that direction.

"Arisone! What are these weak to?"

"Fires and axes!" she called.

"But I am attempting to combat the spirits animating it. That will be a lengthy process!" Then I need to kite it away from Arisone, and hopefully she wears it down before I go down, he thought. Another leg came down, splashing him with muck. The aegis at least prevented the mud from blinding him. Malachi began a steady retreat, hurling javelins at the creature to make sure it stayed annoyed at him, blocking the lighter hits, and staying far enough back he could leap out of the way if a leg came down.

Two more ghosts burst out of the creature, rushing him. Arisone's spell caught the first so that it turned aside, but the second rushed into him. He felt icy fingers plunging into his chest. He swatted at the ghost with his javelin, and was surprised to see the electricity crackle through its insubstantial body. This time, when the ghost's spectral hand reached for him, he was ready with his aegis. The shield blocked the ghost.

When its mouth opened in a hideous grin, Malachi plunged his lightning javelin through its gross face. The ghost vibrated, then burst outward in glowing mist. That was when the animated tree-trunk foot smashed into him. His aegis shattered, and he was flung back into the mud several feet, sliding until his head banged into a tree. He grunted and struggled to his feet, blinking away the stars. His chest hurt. Based on the dent in it, it seemed like the breastplate had absorbed a good chunk of the hit.

"How much longer?" he called. Arisone didn't respond. Malachi backpedaled as the root haunt advanced and glanced over. Oh shit.

"Behind you!" he called. Emerging from the swamp were what could only be described as zombies. There were about five of them—no, six. Three of them had probably once been human. They were still dragging along spears. Another had obviously been a gorgon. The last two were crocodiles. [Zombie] - Well I guess. Fuck! Malachi thought. He threw his magical javelin, this time at one of the zombies. It jerked in response, but kept lurching forward.

Maybe his ability would be nice someday, but right now it was like he was trying to kill things by waving a 9-volt battery at them. Malachi ducked behind the tree. Another ghost rushed out of the root haunt at him, but he deflected it and planted a javelin in it until it dispersed. Arisone had spun to confront the zombies, but she was wielding her wand in one hand and a knife in the other. What is she even doing? he thought, frustrated. Her situational awareness was dogshit.

What was even the point of those hair-snakes? She was backing away from the zombies, but that was going to lead her into the root haunt. And where did the zombies come from? Does that mean there's a necromancer around or do corpses just… do that on their own here? Well, he needed a proper weapon, and one had just been delivered to him. Malachi charged the zombies. He didn't bother to yell at the undead.

He stepped on the backs of the two zombie crocs, running behind the gorgon zombie, and body-slammed the human zombie closest to him. Chunks of rotten flesh flew off it as it slammed into the ground, which was gross as hell, but more importantly, the hand holding the spear had fallen off. Malachi ripped the hand off the spear haft, nailing the zombie in the face with its own hand as it climbed back to its feet, then spun it around and clubbed it with the butt of the spear. The spear was nice and solid.

The head was rotten. Its skull fractured, and rotten material sloughed out. The zombie collapsed to the ground.

"Deal with the root haunt!" he yelled, but didn't check to see if Arisone had listened. Instead, he got to work. The two human zombies by him raised their spears in thrusts, but they were slow compared to the invading lizardfolk and elves he'd fought back on Earth. He knocked the first thrust aside, then got in the second human's guard and gave it a solid kick in the torso, knocking it to the ground. He then dug the spear point deep into the undead's neck, then braced himself and shoved.

The vertebrae separated and the body stopped twitching. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Malachi parried the thrust by the third spear zombie. Intuition told him the gorgon zombie behind him was probably getting close, so he ran to the side, muck splashing over his boots, repositioning himself so that he was no longer between them. The zombie gorgon hissed at him, all the snakes that made up its hair dead and flopping around. That's so fucking gross.

You're next, he thought, and slammed the spear point into the undead's face. The gorgon zombie hissed again, bringing its tail around to try and smash into him. Malachi put leverage on the spear. It cut through the zombie's face as the tip came out, but the head stayed on. Malachi quickly retreated, knowing both the crocs and the third human were moving to surround him. Then, blue light erupted from the torso of the gorgon zombie, and the creature collapsed.

He looked to Arisone, who was standing there, the root haunt fast approaching.

"They're animated by spirits, not bone," she said, as if that answered any of the questions Malachi had.

"The root haunt!" he said.

"Is dead," the gorgon stated. She snatched the spirit from one of the crocodile zombies, which collapsed. Malachi casually stuck his spear into the head of the last crocodile, pinning in place until its animating spirit was also sucked away.

"It's still coming toward you," he said, now annoyed. Arisone gave him a sinister looking grin. There was an eruption of spectral energy, and behind her, the root haunt let out a scream that sounded with a dozen voices. It lurched forward another step, then trembled and collapsed. The pile of tangled wood and bones shuttered once more as the last ghosts left it, then was still. Malachi held up a finger.

"Okay. Okay." Again, he had a lot of thoughts, and it was taking the words a moment.

"We need to work on our communication. How did you do that?"

"Curses."

"Yes, okay, but—I understand how militaries need to keep their capabilities secret. But not from their close allies. I need to at least know vaguely what you can do so that I understand how to protect you." And more importantly, me, he thought. No point risking myself if it's not even necessary.

"I am a spirit mage. I command spirits. I thought that was obvious."

"I need to reiterate: Earth. Does. Not. Have. Magic." Arisone kept looking at him. Finally, one of her hair-snakes looked away, slightly embarrassed.

"Apologies, sentinel. A standard spell most spirit mages have is the ability to command a ghost—even a hostile one. The undead are necromantically animated by either a spirit magic or bone magic. If it is bone magic, I can do a little. Bone and spirit are both subconduits of the primary necromancy conduit. I am much more effective at destroying spirits. Does that satisfy you?" Malachi nodded. He thought about what he'd seen.

"The ghosts you turned—the root haunt would have tried to turn them back, yeah?"

"Yes." He started putting together the pieces.

"So each ghost you flung back at the root haunt was an ally. You cast your thorns curse on each one, so as the root haunt tried to reclaim the spirits animating it, it was destroying itself." Arisone narrowed her eyes.

"You deduced that?"

"I have a brain. I just need a bit of grease to keep the whole thing spinning."

"Human brains… spin?"

"No, it's… it's a metaphor. You do have figurative language? Never mind. Do these monsters have essences?"

"The root haunt does. Weak essences. Not worth bottling."

"What kind?"

"Nothing you can use. Spirit, body, and plant." Except I can use the 'body' one, he thought.

"Ah. Well, we can move on then. But first I need to take a leak." Arisone again looked confused.

"There are no roofs with holes to repair or seize—""I need to piss urine out of my penis," Malachi said, exasperated. SERA, I know you can do a better job translating. Stop using so many idioms you nefarious primate! You're the one bitching about clear communication, then you go and talk like that. Whatever.

"By the root haunt?" Arisone asked.

"Human tradition to urinate on our enemies," he said, deadpan. Glancing back he said, "Also, humans traditionally look away from each other when excreting." Malachi undid one of the buckles on his armored pants. He really did need to pee. With one hand, he aimed. The other he leaned on the corpse of the root haunt. The wood and bone it was made of was slowly flaking away, like ash from a fire. He guessed in a few hours it would be gone.

Harvest Essence: Martial (Body) Malachi closed his eyes as he absorbed the weak essence, feeling the power of it waiting to be committed to the conduit. Faint light wisped around his hand. He'd been able to outrun the root haunt, but he'd seen footage of some of the nastier beasts out there. He couldn't outrun them. Regeneration wasn't going to be enough for the shit he was dealing with, so upgrading that wasn't enough. He pushed the essence outward towards new nodes.

He'd done that once already in the dungeon, so now he could feel it pooling around new nodes in Martial Conduit. Apparently it took two essences right now to reach a new "constellation" of choices in his ability chart. At least, it did right now; maybe it'd take more later.

Text appeared on his interface: Select a Martial (Body) ability: Stance: Improvised Weaponmaster - While using this stance, improvised weapons you use hit harder and are fortified by energies from your conduit (scales with number of martial nodes). The weapon gains an enchantment based on your available spells. Drains a small amount of mana while active. One stance can be active at a time.

Endurance of the Mountain (Passive) - Your natural stamina is bolstered, you are harder to fatigue, and your body is slightly more resilient to punishment. You slightly resist attempts to move you. This reserves mana from your pool. Synergizes with Elemental (earth) conduit. Hunter's Senses (Passive) - Your sense of smell and eyesight is improved. You can more easily pick up tracks and other signs, and are more attuned to calls and changes in your environment. Synergizes with all Druidic conduits.

Malachi looked at the choices in his mind. How does reserving mana work? Basically how you think. Mentally activate the ability, and it drains it, and then you can't regenerate that mana while it's in use. How much mana gets reserved has to do with your mana regen, but you can't do anything about that right now. What matters more here is that—by the Guardian's left tit that gorgon's System Unit will not shut the fuck up. About that… I'm not going to get smote or something because you're helping me too much, am I?

Haha! No. Well, probably not. I think I can find a way to get it to reset its event memory before it starts spreading signals. Basic info you need right now: Ability synergies can be adjusted within a primary conduit as skills are merged or upgraded. So, an ability with an Elemental (fire) synergy could have its synergy changed to Elemental (ice). THAT DOESN'T COUNT AS HELPING, THAT WAS AN INNOCENT HYPOTHETICAL! Sorry, that motherfucker is pissing me off. I'm going to hack it. Uh…

is that going to screw up Arisone's magic? No. Malachi started buckling his armor back up. He had some more thoughts about SERA, but those could wait. He focused back on the choices at hand. He needed damage, but he also needed defense if he was going to go toe-to-toe against things like root haunts. Arisone had promised him a proper weapon, so the first choice was out.

The third choice was useful, especially in the Dark Mire, but he had to plan for the long term, and that meant thinking about how his abilities supported each other. SERA had just told him that conduit synergies could be changed for a reason. The little shit knew a lot more than it was letting on. Endurance of the Mountain, he thought. Immediately, a little icon appeared next to Regeneration. He felt the fatigue that had been hanging around him like a cloud lift. He didn't feel so sore. That was nice.

Gonna have to go silent for a bit. Pretend to be normal. You know, like you in high school. Zing! Malachi presumed that it had worked. He wasn't entirely sure what was going on, but if he had to guess, it had to do with the perforated Guardian he encountered in that acid hellscape where his squad had died. Everyone in these realms were using magic, but who had actually created magic? Who had created the System Units? Who had created the realms? And why?

Whatever the answer was, he was pretty sure it wasn't some sort of god-serpent laying a bunch of metaphorical eggs in space or whatever the hell Arisone's people believed.

"Are you… done?" Arisone called.

"Oh, yeah. Just got lost in thought," Malachi replied. With his armor back in place, they started heading out again.

"Do we need to be on the lookout for an enemy necromancer?"

"Yes," Arisone said.

"We are forbidden from animating the bodies of other gorgons. Likely, it is another Hadaun human. That one is likely this close to Matrasa is… concerning. We are almost there. Stay close to me. You are wearing Maatugivi armor, and likely no one here has seen a human that was not Hadaun. I would be quite distraught if a potential alliance with the Earth humans was stymied by your untimely death."

"Thanks," Malachi snorted. They continued on to the city of Matrasa.