NOVEL NEXT Chapter 138 - Experience
Inferno's flame streaked across the walls, slithering around the spikes jutting from the underground cave system, through the crystallized rocks scattered about the ground, splashing wide down the swarm of spiders scuttling toward them with blinding speed. It seeped through the holes it could find on their hard shells, scorching the black flesh underneath with brutal efficiency.
Ding!
[You have managed to defeat [Wretchling - lvl 113]!]
[You have managed to defeat [Wretchling - lvl 116]!]
[You have managed to defeat [Wretchling - lvl 121]!]
Then Nomad was running, hauling the sword high over the squirming swarm, his frequencies rising high over the Resonance as he crushed into the creatures. He caught one from its underchin, dragged it screeching close and sent it sprawling over the others, made a sweep with his sword to clear some space for Celme, whose face twisted in cold, eager fury.
There were, on a cursory glance, about twenty of these creatures creeping inside the tunnel that served as a welcoming surprise for the group. Valens had winced the first time he saw their bodies, the twisting limbs and the numerous eyes dotting their heads, all filled with filthy rot and pus. Not only that, these monsters were big, which made it hard to stomach their appearance without prior notice.
At least they don't phase through walls and shriek into your face. These are, for the lack of a better word, real monsters. I can deal with that.
He forked the tails of the Inferno around the swarm, allowing Celme and Nomad a clear space to battle their hearts out. The tunnel was only so wide that two warriors were enough to block the passage.
Watching them for a while, he had to admit there was some real work waiting for them ahead if they were to match the Templars' efficiency. On their own, Nomad and Celme were highly talented individuals. Nomad himself was like a machine fashioned from all kinds of hard material, and although his sword seemed plain and simple, Valens caught more than once a sudden glint appearing in its tip which suggested the use of a skill.
Celme, instead, relied on her hands and feet, a fact that earned Valens' respect now that they came across a swarm of spiders. Let alone crushing the hard shells of these creatures, the simple act of facing them in close proximity demanded a certain madness that was hard to imitate.
Is it the armor? Or the lack thereof?
He thought back to the trio of Templars bounding stately across the Brackley Mine, armored feet pounding on the ground, sacred light clustered about their pauldron and burning white-hot when you stared too much. The holy duty of keeping a country clean gave them an air the adventurers so direly lacked.
Ah… Of course. They were serving a grand purpose.
A sudden weight settled on his shoulders at the thought. Leaving Captain Edric and the others behind hadn't been easy, in a city that was ravaged and destroyed by an army of dwellers, but he wasn't the one burdened to relieve a nation that suffered a catastrophe. That work had been entrusted in the hands of his former companions.
The Resonance changed as Celme stumbled a step back, gasping as rotten blood splashed across her body. It dripped from the edges of her long hair, burning like acid as it sprinkled in a sickening rain down the ground. Nomad moved in to cover her retreat, reaching out with his sword and stabbing at the creature responsible for the unexpected shower of gore.
Taking a breath, Valens gathered himself and quested for the Windpulse Barrier. He moved in, stretching the barrier just enough to surround his companions with an extra layer of protection. That done, he placed a hand on Celme's shoulder, sending his Lifesurges to patch the burning wounds across her body.
His eyebrows rose. The damage was awfully limited even as blood poured from those wounds. The venom barely slipped past the outer skin, and what little of it managed to seep into the blood flow had come across a boiling temperature too high for it to exist. Still, Valens stitched the wounds and washed her body with lifemana for good measure.
"You know you don't have to punch everything, right?" he then said, pointing at Nomad, whose sword crunched sharply into a Wretchling's chitin. "There's nothing wrong with using weapons."
Celme glanced down at her healed knuckles, then up at Valens as a stubborn smile stretched her lips wide. "This is what I do. Using a weapon will fundamentally change the way I am. And you get stronger by punching hard things. We still have a Healer in the team, right? Can't let it go to waste."
"I'm touched," Valens said, shaking his head. "So this bloody business is all about keeping me entertained, eh? That sounds… strangely twisted, even for you. Go, then. Go punch more spiders to pieces. I'll wait."
She gave him a wink and was back on the swarm, jabbing with burning excitement a Wretchling that found itself facing a Bloodbound as an enemy. The outer chitin of the creature dented inward after a flurry of punches, then it gave in, revealing soft, green tissue underneath. Celme reached forth and pulled blindly at the flesh, wrenched a handful of rotten innards that stilled the creature right away.
You can do that?
But it was working. Already, she gained two levels and reached Level 102. If they were to deal with an insidious bastard like Mourning King, she would need more. That was why Valens kept his mouth shut and kept healing the former Berserker.
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…
After they dealt with the initial tide of Wretchlings, Valens patched his companions before they marched on. The battle had only served to prove a suspicion burning in the back of his mind, which was rather unsettling.
Killing creatures below your level was, in a general sense, not entirely efficient. While Celme gained six levels from ten or so spiders she had killed in the tunnel, all around Level 120–130, Nomad barely saw an increase in his experience.
"That's a sort of fuck-you to people who think they can grind mindless creatures," the undead said as they trudged on. "You'll have to rise to the occasion. Force yourself to confront the stronger bastards, hence the bonus experience."
"Rather cruel, I must say." Valens nodded. "But in a way, I can understand the reasoning behind it."
The Evercrest woman told him that the Surgemasters had created the system. That, in itself, wasn't too surprising. What really bothered Valens was the purpose behind it. It was clear that this all-encompassing machinery worked on a simple, yet cruel mechanism that rewarded risk with generosity, while it almost neglected the peaceful side of things.
"It wasn't always like this," Celme said, voice heavy. "Back in the Ancient Age, things were different. Killing monsters wasn't the only way to become someone. At least that's what I've been told."
Through the tunnel they marched on, Valens keeping his Windpulse Barrier active and his senses keen over the Resonance. His sound vision picked the interior complexity of the passage, which consisted mostly of crystallized rocks. There were long cracks across the walls, and on occasion, a tremor would pass through them to spark a momentary rain of pebbles and dust.
Soon after, there was a shift in the frequencies. He paused, gesturing at the others to do the same, inching slowly forward toward a pristine crystal the size of an adult man. Through the cracks over its surface, a set of frequencies leaked outside. The movement was coming from inside of it, too soft and delicate.
"They're hatching," Nomad said, placing a hand on the giant rock. "A dozen of them, I reckon. Must've disturbed them in the heat of that first battle."
"Hatching?" Valens scowled as he approached the rock. Closing his eyes, he focused on the unique frequencies leaking from inside of it, managing a Lifeward over its pristine surface. "Oh." His eyebrows rose. "That's… interesting."
Trailing the frequencies showed him that there was, underneath the crystal shell of the rock, buried deep within it, a dozen eggs the size of his fist. A pair of them had cracked. Dark, squirming limbs jutted out from them, hairy skin slick with sticky liquid.
"Fine way of making nests, eh?" Nomad chuckled while Celme stared at both of them. "The Broodmother makes the Wretchlings carry the eggs. Reckon that's why this Mourning King of yours never bothered to take these tunnels. You'd find scarcely a worse enemy than a pissed mother."
"So you're saying these rocks are not just rocks?" Celme asked finally, glaring at both of them. "They use these to breed those spiders? That seems strange. Is there even enough room in these rocks? How are they supposed to escape—"
"There's an intricate network inside," Valens said, eyes still closed. "Pathways through the rock, all leading to the ground. They even considered the number of eggs and ensured the passages don't cross one another. Each Wretchling has a clear way downward. It's great work, honestly."
"That happens when you live in an environment where everyone is food," Nomad shrugged. "You get creative to protect your offspring."
"This Broodmother," Valens said, curious. "If that's the reason why the Mourning King left these tunnels alone, then are we talking about a Ghoul here? A creature that's passed its Second Trial?"
"It's hard to say." Nomad hauled his sword back on his shoulder, peering out into the dark cave ahead. "The Wretchlings were strong. That could mean two things. Either they've seen plenty of action and lived just enough to pass their First Trials, or the Broodmother is a Ghoul and she's birthing monsters right out of the eggs."
Valens glanced back at the passage they had trudged on, then peered around him for any signs of damage. Other than the long cracks across the walls, the ground had barely seen any disturbance, judging by the thick carpet of dust.
"Oh," Celme was the first one to point out. "It's the second one, then. We have one big mother waiting for us."
"Could've been worse," Nomad said, shifting back.
"We should leave these hatchlings alone, then," Valens said, removing his hand from the crystal. He had caught the two newly born spiders stumbling down through their individual passages. Judging by their frequencies, he supposed the two were around Level 30, which was a lot for a newly born creature.
Burning them to a crisp would be as easy as lifting these rocks with Gravitating Earth, but if there was a Broodmother waiting for them ahead, it was best not to piss her off by killing her little darlings.
"Make sure not a single Wretchling escapes," Nomad said simply. "The Broodmother should be in her cave, busy with a host of mates. If we can catch her unprepared, then it'll be easy work."
They exchanged glances, then marched on.
…
The idea was simple. You find a Wretchling, you kill it off. Never let it scuttle away in the dark, in case it would alert the others that some humans were after their mother. Or mate. Arachnids were strange in that regard. Valens had never learned much about them other than a few times when he experimented with Bloodspiders because of their unique poison, which could kill an adult in a minute's time if injected directly through veins.
Even then, a Bloodspider was… a normal spider. Small, fast, squished easily under a foot or could be swatted flat with the back of a hand. He doubted you could do that to a Wretchling.
That was why, when they came across the second swarm, he decided to take a more active approach rather than letting Celme get her levels by punching their brains out.
This swarm was more crowded. Over fifty Wretchlings, at first sight. More waiting around the crystals scattered across the tunnel. It seemed surrounding some rocks with crystal-like shells and drilling pathways through them wasn't enough of a protection. Valens agreed with their approach. Pity that they crossed paths in this situation.
He forked the Inferno sideways, taking the left side of the tunnel, sending his flames sprawling across the furious tide. One of the Wretchlings came bounding through the burning waves, flashing its dangerously nimble limbs sharply toward him.
A gust of wind welcomed it when its limb bit into the barrier, growing fierce as it pushed the creature back into its burning companions, tearing a long gash across its underbelly in the process. Dark blood poured from the wound, but it wasn't the blood that demanded Valens's attention.
Ding! [Windpulse Barrier (Adept): 1 > 2]
He felt the warm rush of mana in his chest, pouring into the invisible shield around him. Valens smiled as he cherished the sensation. Toward the side, Nomad was reaping the pitiful creatures with mad efficiency, allowing Celme a clear space around the middle where she only had to deal with one creature at a time.
It felt nostalgic, he had to admit. Back on the ground, with the same people by his side, braving against different species but doing the same, grueling work. There were a couple of changes, of course.
We've gotten good at this. I daresay experience makes a hell of a difference.