Chương 12: GB - Chapter 12: The Forest’s Take

Shit, Luke thought, my Mindless Undead back at the fort aren't on my status screen anymore. That means either they collapsed, or they aren't under my control anymore and could be running loose. That idea was worse than them just collapsing and being useless once more: what if someone came across the fort and was attacked by the walking dead? Luke hated that thought, and hoped that no one was dumb enough to go there and would, if injured or needing a place to stop, return to Mistbrook.

A sword was put point-first next to his neck, and he froze in place. Captain Amara's voice was cold, and she said, "Stand up." Luke did so, and the woman pressed the blade to his flesh, but didn't cut it.

"What?" Luke asked. Her gaze was hard and bored into him. She glanced down at the shards on the ground that Luke had been collecting.

"Those go to the town."

"Fuck that," Luke replied.

"I killed these ones, so I get these Essence Shards." Amara was about to say something, but Percy intervened, pushing Amara's sword down, palm on the flat of the blade.

"Captain," the man said, "We don't have time for this." The woman grunted an affirmation and pulled her sword away, sheathed it, and walked over to where she had dropped her crossbow. Luke looked at Percy.

"Thanks for the save," Luke said.

"No problem at all," Percy replied.

"She's just pissy for some reason. Normally she's rather nice."

"Doubt it." Amara, voice loud and commanding, said, "Alright! We are close to the nest. Be ready for the fight of your lives."

"What can we expect?" Luke asked her. She glared at him, and begrudgingly replied, "Fog Creeper Matriarch. The nastiest of the bunch." She turned and began moving into the forest once more. Luke followed, with Percy just a step behind him. Luke asked, "What can we expect to find in this nest?" Percy's voice was grim.

"Dead people and animals used to incubate the monster's young."

"Do all monsters do that to reproduce?"

"Nope," Percy said with a scowl.

"These fuckers are just like that. Makes hunting and trapping a bitch. It's why we eat so much fish." Luke was happy for the plethora of information and the ready source to provide it. He had to take advantage of it now, while they had a positive perspective of him. He already knew that monsters, people, and animals were just different categorizations, and that monsters broke down into Essence Shards, but what of their origin?

"Where do monsters like this even come from?" he asked. Percy ducked below a tree branch that Luke had plowed through, heedless with his armor. The guard said, "Supposed to be from places where Power Types are prominent. Y'know, forest is really potent with all manner of Life, so you get a Life monster." He held up a hand with three fingers presented.

"These ones got Life, Caustic, and Toxin." Luke thought, well, thank God I'm fully inured to Toxins with maxed Resistance to that. The tingling I felt must've been either Life, and that's just how it feels to Undead Creatures like myself, or Caustic—some type of acid, maybe. Captain Amara stopped up ahead near a fall of trees that had formed a barricade that was top-of-head-high. The other guards joined her, and Luke was the last to arrive with Percy. She peered over the barricade, and waved everyone to join her.

Luke did so, and as he peered over the top, he saw a sight that was absolutely grotesque. Bodies of animals and people had been encased in cocoons of thorns, and seemingly strapped by those cages to the ground. The thorns weren't just growing over them, but burrowing into them, and glowing a dark, deep green. Blood and infected pus oozed from the bodies, and the scent of decay and rot was strong enough that Luke could smell it with his dulled senses.

Some of the monster incubators were dead, some were alive, and he saw the one man who had been dragged off was writhing in pain on the far side of the grove. That man had only three thorny vines wrapped around him—chest, abdomen, and below the knees—but those thorns were digging in and seeming to suck up the blood. The space had once been deadfall, and Luke assumed that such places had fertile enough soil to have the nutrition required to grow more of the Fog Creepers. As for why they needed living hosts?

Luke had only one guess: it had to do with something about transferring Life itself. A deer with a single, pointed spike atop its head and six legs was brought in by one of the hulking Nest Guardians, which slammed it to the ground, dulling its senses, and then wrapped some of the thorny vines around the thing. As it gripped and wrapped, Luke's gaze was drawn along the length of vine to something that would've made him vomit if he had something in his stomach.

All of the Fog Creepers, thus far, had been lanky, with a thin trunk, legs, and arms, with an oversized head. This one, what he assumed was the Matriarch, had thick legs and arms, a bulbous head, and a giant torso. The vines he had tracked from the Nest Guardian's grip were being pulled from the Matriarch's body—from right where the belly-button would be on a person.

But that wasn't what disgusted Luke so much; what made him sick to the stomach was that the vines that were yanked out were accompanied with gushing blood and tissue. It was akin to one of those meat slaughterhouse videos where he saw the makings of a hot dog: just a bunch of scraps of bodies that were churned together. A small Fog Creeper was up on a branch near where the Matriarch was perched upon a log, and was feeding her cut up, rotten bits of meat—Luke presumed from the victims who had already seen their use.

Captain Amara pulled down.

"I don't see the one we injured, but it was here." She pointed at the ground beneath them, and Luke saw the splatter of brown ichor that he associated with the monster's blood.

"Rescue is the priority. Here's the plan." She looked pointedly at Luke.

"You're the distraction." Why am I not surprised? Luke thought. Amara continued, "While the Undead here keeps their attention and draws them away, I'll deal with the Matriarch, and you lot focus on getting Thorm." Everyone nodded, except for Luke. He looked down at the dagger he was given, then up at the guards.

"Any chance—""No," Amara said, voice cold.

"Fucking do your job and do it well." Luke thought, If I want to get this town on my side, then I need to get her to give a good report. Fuck, I hate this. He was almost out of mana and needed it for literally every aspect of his current setup with Arts. He could manifest a single Pale Flame Bolt or Black Guard, but then that was it. What he needed was time: enough time, and he could literally raise the animal corpses in the deadfall area as a distraction.

"Give me some time. Ten minutes and I'll be full up on Mana, and can be effective."

"Thorm doesn't have time," Percy whispered.

"If we don't get to him, he's going to die." Luke sighed and nodded.

"Fine. Let me at least distract them my way." He looked over the barricade again and spied some openings in the trees on the far side.

"I can get around to the far edge and draw them away. Two minutes so I can do it slowly and not get caught before getting into position." He was doing two things. First, he was buying himself some time to get Mana back. Second, he was effectively repositioning himself at the farthest point from the direct path to town. It would give the others a straight shot back. And, he hoped, he could then lose the monsters in a chase and circle back.

As long as he kept the direction right in his head, he was sure he could outpace the monsters. They might be in their favored terrain, but he never tired. He would win in a pure battle of attrition. Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. Going to his left, and following the edge of the deadfall, he found plenty of soft loam to take the tread of his boots.

The armor, thankfully, due to its tattered and well-worn state, made only a little noise, and the squelches of thorns digging into flesh and the cries of the victims in the deadfall clearing were more than enough to drown out his movement. As he got to the left of the clearing from where he had started, and a minute had passed, he was feeling pretty confident.

Luke was sure he would be just fine— A massive claw slammed down into his right shoulder, shoving him down, but his body moved forward by reflex to turn the crushing blow into a glancing one. Still, the needle-like claws dug deep, and as Luke rolled away—right into the clearing—and came up in a spin, he saw the injured Fog Creeper they had chased was the assailant. Health: 74 / 125 Mana: 10 / 86 {126} Stamina: 65 / 96 {116} Damnit, Luke thought as he saw the small aura around him in a sphere.

I forgot to turn that off. His Chill Field and Black Guard were still active, and he had no doubt that the area-of-effect was what gave him away. Either that, or the Guardian was waiting, protecting the nest. In any event, Luke was now in the open, with one Guardian in front of him, one to his left, and the Matriarch behind him. I have to take one out before I'm overwhelmed! He lunged forward, dagger in hand, and jammed it deep into the torso of the already-injured one.

It was big enough to stay upright despite Luke launching himself full-force into it, but his blade must've found something vital, as brown ichor spurted up in his face, and the monster began congealing into sludge. Luke's weight from his launch carried him forward a bit, and he stumbled, turned around, and barely got his forearm still covered with bits of the summoned shield into the path of a claw that was the size of his head.

He could feel the pain as his left arm was bashed aside and the bone pulverized from the hit. His armor was dented, and deep, black, long-dead blood seeped from the wound in a spurt. Flipping the dagger in his right hand to a saber grip, he shoved it forward and up into the neck of the other Guardian. The knife bit in and Luke shoved with all his strength. The monster stumbled backward from the vicious attack, and Luke heard the twang—thunk of crossbows being fired.

He didn't see where they were being fired, as the Fog Creeper opened its massive mouth and chomped down at him. Luke let out a cry of pain as he felt it bite into the top of his scalp, but it was a glancing strike which only peeled away flesh from bone—his skull was still intact.

"You shithead!" Luke said without breath as he shoved his knife deeper and used Pale Flame Bolt with his little bit of remaining Mana, focusing on fixing his left arm. It snapped to place and he could still feel the pinching from the dented armor. But, it gave him a second hand to work with, and he brought it up to wrap around his other hand holding the dagger, and he wrenched it to the left, almost decapitating the monster. It fell backward, taking Luke with it, and he collapsed into its goopy form.

Luke staggered to his feet and heard the screaming. Looking around, he saw that Percy and his allies had retrieved Thorm and were in the process of getting out the way they came in, but the Matriarch had blocked their path. Amara had engaged with it, trying to clear her way through, but the monster had impaled her through the guts with a vine-wrapped tendril that was like a spike.

Still, the woman showed her mettle, as with a scream of defiance shoved the thing out of the way enough for her allies to run past with the saved villager.

"Go!" she gasped out. Luke's body moved before his brain could process the full scene and come up with a solution. He wanted data, information, and to make informed decisions, but his body operated on instinct. He shoulder-tackled the Matriarch, sending the trio falling to the ground. The thorn-spike ripped out of Amara, and she let out a grunting curse as she fell and clutched her wound. Luke was on top of the Matriarch, and felt its vine-barb wrath as the creature shoved its tendril into him.

He could feel the spikes worming its way inside his chest cavity, and glanced at the numbers on the top-right of his vision. Health: 24 / 125 Mana: 0 / 86 {126} Stamina: 65 / 96 {116} I'm not fucking dying again! He thought. Luke brought his knife to bear and began stabbing down at the monster. As its thorns pushed farther into his body, his stabs grew less ferocious. He wasn't tiring, but it was trying to seize him up from the inside.

Luke saw an opening and dreaded what he was about to do, but saw no other option. He saw the thing's neck, and rearing back his head, he dove in, teeth bared, and ripped away at the tough, root-covered, leathery-underneath hide. He came back with a chunk that he spit out, and deep, brown blood gushed from the wound. The Matriarch began to slow, until finally, as Luke was on the verge of death, it stopped moving. Health: 3 / 125 Luke didn't move from the slowly dissolving pile of goop for a few seconds.

He wasn't exhausted, but just thinking, mind moving a million miles per minute. He had almost died, again. What had he done wrong? Well, for starters, he needed to—"Help," Amara barely got out from behind him. Luke glanced back and saw her there, clutching her stomach, intestines spilling out. He knew that an injury like that was probably lethal, and could take several days to actually kill her.

"They have magic healing back in town?" he asked. She nodded, eyes full of fear and pleading.

"Please." Luke searched the goop, and found the Matriarch's shard. He looked back at the deadfall clearing, and saw the glittering glow of the other two shards, but knew that sticking around to grab them would be a risk he just couldn't take. He sheathed the dagger, and moved to the Captain.

"Sword?" She pointed to her left, and Luke grabbed it, put it through the loop of his belt, and then reached down to pick her up. She let out a whimper of pain as he gathered her up in his arms, one arm under her shoulders, the other under her knees, letting her hold her guts in her hands.

"T-town," she said as she kept shivering. Ah, shit. Luke turned off all of his Arts and moved after the other guards. They were long gone, and Amara passed out from the pain. [Quest Completed!] [Title: Save those who need saving.] ["Death and Life are part of a balance, a cycle, and you were willing to sacrifice yours for another's."] [Reward Granted!] [Name: Grim Harvest.] [Power Type: Gravebloom.] [Duration: Instant.] [Mana: 0.] [Stamina: 20.] [Effect: The user manifests a scythe that sweeps in a 180-degree arc in front of them, out to a distance of 10-feet. This scythe deals 5% max Health damage, or heals the same amount, as the user dictates upon use.] [Experience Gained: 175. Current Experience: 192 / 1000.] Luke kept his eyes peeled as he walked, not wanting to risk any more attacks, or possible assault. As he walked, he chose to use his new Art.

The moment he thought of it, and his desire to heal targets in front of him—the woman he was holding included—the Art activated. A scything blade of brilliant green sliced from his right to left in an arc before him. The moment it touched the trees around him, those glowed a little bit brighter. When it touched Captain Amara, her intestines began to suck back into her. Awesome, Luke thought. I have an area-of-effect ability. Not the most damage or healing, but still, I have one.

That's something I was hoping to get. While walking, keeping his eyes peeled, he mentally replayed the entire encounter. He chastised himself for not making sure his Arts were disabled. That was an easy mistake he could have not made. I wonder if there is a way to auto-deactivate things when I'm not using them? No voice replied, and Luke resigned himself to knowing that he would have to keep his Committed Arts at the front of his mind whenever he used them. They were always on until he disabled them, after all.

Without that, he might not have been ambushed. Still, he was quite happy with how he held his own, given the fact he took on two of the Guardians himself. He was surprised how quickly they went down, but he was fighting a lot more fiercely this time, throwing himself at them. And, one was injured already. Still, going for up-close fighting seemed to be the call against these things.

They're the apex of this forest, he thought as he recalled old National Geographic documentaries he used to play in the background while he worked. And apex predators don't change their hunting or fighting habits—they are probably used to using their longer reach to their advantage, and the head-chomp killing blow upon restrained prey. If I fight them again, I need to get in close and personal.

Going at a slower pace, Luke had plenty of time to let his Mana refill and used Pale Flame Bolt on himself over and over again. By the time he reached the outskirts of the town, where the tree line gave way, he was fully back to normal: all wounds healed and Health full. He had intentionally not used his new Grim Harvest on Captain Amara, because he knew he could use her as a political piece.

It was cold and unfeeling, but the fact was if he came back with her, unconscious but alive, then he would show the town all the more that he was not interested in making them into corpses to raise to serve him. Hopefully, my plan works out, he thought as the gates opened to receive him and his injured rescuee.