Chương 9: Chapter 8

The hammer smashed into the squirrel's body like a hot knife - or, in this case, a chipped hammer - through butter. The thing exploded into bits of viscera, bits of it slowly dripping down Corin's already-drenched face. [Squirrel (Lv. 1) slain!] [+2 XP!] [Loot dropped: Acorn] Corin had so many goddamn acorns. 19 of them, to be exact, matching the 19 corpses littering the grass. At the supposed 5% drop rate, the next one better have a Gilded Acorn, or he was going to be pissed.

He sighed, wiping off his hammer on a nearby stump, then pushed himself upright. The admittedly-beautiful garden was now considerably less so, thoroughly scattered with little bodies beneath the shade of a massive, gnarled tree at its center - which might have been a sad sight, if not for the bite-sized holes and scratches covering his own. He'd made a slow-release regen salve for this exact purpose, but it was proving to be particularly slow release. Corin looked around for his next quarry.

The squirrels were everywhere. Culling was certainly necessary. He avoided the larger groups, wary of death-by-rodent, and picked off the smaller stragglers on the outskirts instead - hopefully quickly, since as much as he hated the little bastards, he didn't want them to suffer any more than he was. Still, at 50 silver a pop, even a single Gilded Acorn would almost double his money. A 5% drop chance. Just need to kill 600 squirrels then, give or take. Fun.

Tossing the acorn into his Bag of Holding (two of them sold for a half-copper), he set out in search of his next squish. A nearby squirrel soon proved to be more than willing for mortal combat, and Corin happily accepted. [Squirrel (Lv. 1) slain!] [Loot dropped: Acorn] Fuck, I really think my prediction was wrong. I'm not sure if I'll even be able to pay off the cure for frothfrenzy. A group of three squirrels soon ambled to him, more than he was willing to fight but forced to nevertheless.

One launched itself onto his shoulder and bit down deep, and he grabbed it, ripping out a small chunk of flesh in the process, and threw it at its leaping brethren. He missed entirely, but figured it was worth the attempt. Managing to clip the leaping squirrel with his hammer regardless, he stomped on it as the third bit at his leg. He leaned downwards and lopped its tiny head off with the sharp end of his hammer, then executed the first previously-flung squirrel.

He let out another sigh of frustration, the pain in his shoulder flaring. Idly, he checked through his notifications, wondering if he was at all close to his level up, though he knew the squirrels provided a dismal amount of experience points: [Squirrel (Lv. 1) slain!] [Loot dropped: Acorn] Of course it's another fucking acorn. [Squirrel (Lv. 1) slain!] [Loot dropped: Gilded Acorn] [Squirrel (Lv. 1) slain!] [Loot dropped: Gilded Acorn] Corin stared at the readout in utter disbelief.

He didn't believe it until he picked up one of them, and sure enough, the acorn was indeed fucking gilded. Turning it over in his fingers, all the pain from the scratches and bites and scars ebbed away into nothing, instead being replaced by utter glee. Two gilded acorns were worth an entire gold coin! He sat down on the same tree stump he'd used to wipe the viscera off his hammer, then carefully put the two gilded acorns into his Bag of Holding.

He briefly had a vision of them disappearing, just as his prior riches had, but then waved that away. 7. 5% of his total debt comfortably rested in his magical little bag. If everyone found out about the increased drop rate, I don't think there'd be a single squirrel left in all of Aldford. Corin looked around at the little squirrels scurrying about, each one suddenly a lot more valuable in his eyes. If there were a hundred left, that would average out to five Gilded Acorns.

With the two he already had, plus the small payout for the culling itself, he'd already be well on his way to clearing his debt. Then, he wondered how much adventurers would pay for the knowledge. Selling the information itself would be a lot easier than getting 100 little injections of frothfrenzy, but certainly not as profitable as doing the dirty work himself - and he was more than used to that. And if I sell my knowledge, then I sell my secret. Corin regarded that in silence.

Each day, his Foresight was proving to show real knowledge of the Turn; however garbled. People made immense amounts of money trying to do just that - and were often killed for being wrong, or permanently imprisoned and indentured for being right. If it was discovered that he had actual, reliable, true knowledge of the Turn, then he'd have more than a target on his back. He'd have a goddamn death sentence. He thought back to his dealings with Greta, Farris the beastmaster, and Bran most of all.

He'd exposed himself more than once already. Not that kind of exposed, though being caught with his pants down would be infinitely preferable to being permanently enslaved in a noble's Dungeon. Standing up and gripping his hammer, he decided to be a lot more careful moving forward. This would be, and remain, his own little secret. Best to remain Corin the Epic loser, rather than Corin the Eviscerated-For-Study. With that, Corin resumed his squirrel-genocide endeavors.

He'd killed at least 50 of them, with only a single more Gilded Acorn dropping. It stung a little, but he knew it was all down to chance. Fifty more should statistically yield at least a few more tiny drops of debt-repayment. He checked his potion information: Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

[Rejuvenation salve {Common} time remaining: 23 minutes, 20 seconds] Corin didn't like the idea of fighting without the salve, since all those little bites and scratches certainly added up without constant healing. He figured it was a good deadline: try and kill as many as he could in 20 minutes, then head home to bank his riches. He was also starting to feel a bit lightheaded, and wasn't sure if that was exhaustion or early-onset frothfrenzy. Either way, it wasn't something worth waiting to find out.

More squirrels charged at him, quickly proving as flimsy as their peers. He'd only encountered two above level 1, and they'd both been easily hammer-squished all the same. One perk of fighting them was that they were all clearly frothfrenzied, meaning not a single one did anything but relentlessly attack.

That was a horrifying effect applied to greater beasts (the northern farmlands had been absolutely wrecked by a herd of stags, infected and subsequently culled entirely), but on these squirrels it was positively adorable. Dozens of little sharp sticks of butter. Prickly, but perfectly capable of being smeared all the same. He noted another gilded acorn with immense satisfaction, putting the total at four. A decent dent in his total debt.

Not a lucky drop rate, mind you, but with only a couple minutes left of his salve he figured this was as good a time as any to leave regardless. This immediately proved challenging, since as soon as he turned to leave, a bunch of the remaining squirrels all turned to face him - a disquieting prospect, as this was heretofore unheard-of squirrel unity. He felt like he was being judged, and held up his bag awkwardly as an apparent excuse.

"You all have frothfrenzy," he told them, as if they'd understand.

"It's an awful way to go. Much better to be hammer-squished, trust me." The squirrels did not seem to agree, nor particularly disagree, seeing as they were squirrels. Instead, they formed a complete circle around Corin, then took small steps toward him, managing to look surprisingly intimidating for undersized rodents. Corin gripped his hammer, entirely unaware of how to deal with his newfound knowledge of sentient squirrels.

It was fast proving to be exactly the kind of situation he hated: a fair fight, as opposed to a comically-unfair one. The massive tree in the center of the garden shook, and dozens more squirrels emerged from it, pouring down its trunk like some kind of swirling madness, reinforcing the now-imposing circle until no gaps remained. Corin felt more like a sacrifice than an executioner. Is this frothfrenzy? Am I hallucinating? no Corin stared at the thought.

It occurred to him that it was in bold, and as far as he was aware, he didn't think in bold, nor in letters at all. Additionally, while it was indeed a thought in his mind, he was pretty sure that he wasn't actually the one who thought it. Hello? die This proved to be a far more troubling thought, and a much more intrusive one than he was used to. It was particularly unsettling in that he felt like he was being spoken to, but there was no clear direction to it. Instead, it came from exactly the center of his mind.

I'm sorry? Die The capitalization added to the imposing nature of the message, not helped by the fact that the circle of squirrels was now edging gradually closer. He glanced at the tree they were coming from, and a sudden, terrible realization came over him. Sporemother. Yes Ah, fuck. The tree. I'm fighting a fucking tree. not tree"Yes yes I fucking know, not a tree, a fucking fungal spore or whatever, you still live in a goddamn tree," Corin said, unable to hide his annoyance.

Not Tree I KNOW, Corin thought, getting more and more pissed off that his final demise was going to be caused by a fungus controlling an army of squirrels - the bastards didn't even have frothfrenzy. Corin peered closer at the tree, staring into the small gnarled opening at its center, until the notification finally clicked: [Sporemother - Lv. 17 {Uncommon}] HP:???

Threat: Ample Corin was not entirely sure how you went about fighting a fungus - and realized he had a horde of squirrels to deal with before he could find out, the realization proving particularly profound after the first squirrel's teeth went directly into his thigh. He yelped and swiped at it, the blow leaving two tiny teeth lodged in his leg while the rest of the body imploded. The gilded acorn notification did little to improve his mood, as he still had around 50 other squirrels to deal with.

The fighting proved frantic, each squirrel-swipe leading to two more lodged in him, and soon the various bites and scratches had already brought his HP down below half, and fear soon replaced frustration. He'd already tried to run away several times, as he was wont to do, but each time the swarm of squirrels would block any and all exit. Fuck, I'm really going to die to a bunch of squirrels.

His salve had run out already, and he cursed himself for not getting a class before this fight, knowing full well he'd never have been able to afford it regardless. A single fireball would make short work of all of them, but all he had was a chipped copper hammer, and a lot of grit. Actually, not that much grit. More like the grit you'd get stuck in your teeth after a particularly tough piece of meat. But the grit he did have, well, it was a gritty grit.

The squirrels briefly relented, then converged all at once in a flurry of tiny teeth and claw. Corin flailed wildly, hitting several but taking damage regardless, becoming keenly aware that teeth built for cracking acorns worked just fine on soft flesh too. He swung his hammer in a blind panic, clipping himself half the time in the process, tiny bits of squirrel flying through the air with every desperate arc. This was proving to be a losing battle.

Corin kicked at them, sending a couple flying, then desperately felt at his pockets in the brief respite. He soon found his quarry: a small tin of matches. He sprinted toward the center tree housing the Sporemother, and the squirrels all reconverged on him, more violently this time, as if to specifically defend it. Lighting a match proved particularly problematic when assailed by two dozen rodents, but he somehow managed it all the same.

He then pulled out his flask of lamp oil, trying to toss it into the hollow, only to be overrun by squirrels mid-throw. The flask burst in his hands instead, showering him and the nearby squirrels in violently flammable liquid. Corin realized he'd just essentially doused himself in wildfire, and stared at the lit match in his hand, desperately willing it to extinguish itself.

The match instead proved unmatched at ignition, alighting the liquid with such alarming ferocity that before he knew it, his right arm and several squirrels all burst into flame at once. He spun and flailed, trying to shed both fire and squirrel, and mostly failing at both. His HP ticked down rapidly, the red number flashing in his periphery with the same panic gripping the rest of him. In all the chaos, he realized he didn't have anything to throw into the tree - then realized that he, in fact, did.

Corin grabbed a flaming squirrel and tossed it at the hole in the tree - and it slammed into the trunk a half-meter off, instantly resembling anything but intact-squirrel. The squirrels, seeing this and apparently appalled at the wanton disrespect of their peer, subsequently redoubled their Corin-murdering efforts. Then Corin, fully aware this would be his final opportunity, grabbed another fiery rodent and flung it at the hole once more.

This time it flew true, the flaming squirrel sailing directly into the hollow, the ensuing "thunk" more subdued but no less satisfying. Then, bold-fonted screaming erupted in his mind: BURN IT BURNS IT BURNS IT BURRRRNSSSS The tree erupted in flames, as did the remaining squirrels within it, all of which sprinted in every direction except toward it. Corin didn't have the satisfaction of watching it burn, as he was instead watching himself burn.

He immediately threw himself to the ground, rolling desperately, his right arm now thoroughly engulfed to the shoulder. [Sporemother (Lv. 17) slain!] [{Uncommon} Feat completed: solo-killed an {Uncommon} creature! Guild standing increased!] [Loot dropped: Sporegloves] [Loot dropped: Concentrated Spore Extract] [You have leveled up! 10 → 11] [+2 stat points available] By the time he looked up, the tree was completely ablaze, as was half the rest of the garden and counting, each fiery squirrel proving remarkably competent at pyromania. Corin watched the royal garden get royally screwed, the ping of his level-up doing little to assuage the realization that he'd just set an entire estate on fire. He stared at the devastation, a dull, sullen thought popping into his mind.

"This looks... expensive."