Poison tolerance advanced to level 3

I gasped for air, the sudden transition from drowning, paralysed and semi-consciousness to healthy and wide awake every bit as jarring as the first time. While waiting for my eyes to readjust, I idly pondered what would have happened if I'd wedged my horn spear so that it stuck through my respawn point, before deciding I'd rather not find out.

Come to think of it, why did my eyes take so long to adjust? Yes, the tree room was brighter than here, but it was nothing compared to the chapel I'd entered from the first time. I didn't have this problem when I popped in to drop off my spear just before I'd... accepted a voluntary work placement as fertiliser.

And why wasn't I hungrier? I'd not eaten anything other than a beetle since I arrived here. Nor had I drunk much, other than poison. Was that nectar particularly nutritious? No, I hadn't slept either. In that case, was my body restored to its exact original condition each time I respawned? That would be nice; if I did starve to death at some point, I wouldn't be trapped in an endless respawn cycle of starvation. On the downside, it would mean I wouldn't be able to build up muscles, and would have to rely completely on skills. Unless I stopped dying, of course, but given the monsters around here, that seemed unlikely.

Then again, my memories should be encoded into my brain, so if I was restored to my original condition, I should forget everything each time... Another mystery to add to the growing pile.

The next step on my continuing mission to fight the wolf was to manufacture myself some equipment. I made my way back to the murder tree's room and its pond of magical healing, where I would swear the tree was now shining more brightly than before. Probably enjoying its meal, the smug bastard. "Don't get used to it," I shouted over, being completely ignored like usual. To be fair, it was a tree. Trees didn't typically have ears.

Once again, I let my morbid curiosity get the better of me and peered into the pool. My first instance was almost gone, with little more than bone remaining. My second copy looked flayed, with bits of meat dangling upwards as if they were trying to float away. I promptly threw up again.

I needed to stop doing that... If I was going to continue to make use of this healing pool, I'd rather not have to drink my own vomit. Not that the addition of my vomit made much difference given that my everything else was dissolved in there too, twice, but it still felt gross.

Fortunately, the horned beetle corpses looked untouched. There seemed to be more munchers in the room than when I'd left, just like there were some back in the passageway despite my attempts to kill them all earlier, but otherwise nothing seemed to have changed. Probably more flew in from the wolf's cavern.

Now I needed to somehow fashion armour from the horned beetle shells... I needed a knife, but all I had was a glorified pointy stick. With no loose rocks, I doubted I could even make myself a crude stone knife, although given the way the horns had poked holes in the walls, such a knife probably wouldn't be able to cut up these shells anyway. I did my best to score lines into them with my horn, over and over, until I was able to snap them, then I had to scrape out the flesh from the other side. The work took hours, and even once it was done, I still needed to turn the loose chitin plates into armour somehow. For that part, the vegetation in this room was more useful, and I was able to twist some of the leafless bushes into pieces of cord.

I tied plates to my arms, legs, chest and back. There weren't any parts of the shell the right size or shape for my head, but I managed to tie a few fragments together into a sort of oversized bandana. I'd taken the whole front section of one of the heads, horn still attached, and fitted it as a shield. I'd then coated the front side of my new shield in the glowing moss, thankfully finding it stuck on well, to give myself a sort of torch. In all, my efforts were far more successful than I'd expected, although I did have to admit to having help.

New skill gained: Makeshift crafter

Professional equipment is generally superior to home-made junk in every way except for one important one; when you're in the middle of an adventure, fighting for your life, you're unlikely to come across a professional blacksmith and their fully equipped smithy. In such a situation, being able to adapt and use the resources available to you can be vital. This skill aids in the creation of improvised weapons, armour and items.

Makeshift crafter advanced to level 2

I wasn't too sure how I felt about my attempts being called junk, but my clumsy efforts noticeably improved after I acquired the skill, so I refrained from complaining about it.

By the time I was finished, close to an entire day must have passed. I'd been nibbling on the beetle flesh as I went, but now I was seriously thirsty. I took a look at the sweet, inviting pool, but decided against it; I couldn't go diving in there to solve every little problem, and I'd not sunk so far as to commit suicide just because I was in need of a drink. Nor could I safely drink enough of it to sate my thirst, because the poison would kill me first. It was time to earn myself some water the hard way.

I refilled my scoop shaped piece of muncher shell with poison, in the hopes of feeding it to the wolf, then stepped into the crevice and worked my way back along the passageway, stabbing the munchers as I went, and swearing a bit when my new shield kept repeatedly catching on the walls.

Spear dabbler advanced to level 5

Nice. Another level-up before my showdown.

I left the spare third horn in my respawn cave, so I'd still have a weapon in case I died somewhere that left my current gear inaccessible, then headed for the other exit of the passage. There was a black, congealed pool of blood in the crevice, remaining as evidence of my first visit to this area. I still found it amazing that I'd managed to survive that injury, however briefly, but for now I shoved it out of my mind in favour of peering out into the darkness.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Beyond a few munchers, there was no life visible from the entrance, and I didn't particularly want to get far away from the wall and the additional light cast by its collection of moss. I decided against visiting the brook and running back like last time; this chitin wasn't excessively heavy, but it was still enough to slow me down. I'd have fangs in my back before I made it halfway.

Maybe if I made some noise here, I could attract the wolf? There was the danger that I might attract more than the single wolf I intended, but I'd need to clear the whole cavern of anything aggressive before I could use it in safety anyway, and the danger was no worse than if I did anything else. Besides, if I failed and died, I'd have a better chance of recovering my equipment if it was near the crevice. Hopefully, any monsters in here wouldn't drag my corpse away... Settling on that plan, I scraped against the wall with my spear, generating a loud scratching sound that caused the nearby munchers to click at me in annoyance and buzz off.

A couple of minutes in, I noticed that my shell of poison was no longer clear. The liquid had turned a milky white. That was... interesting. Ducking back into the crevice for a moment, I poked my finger in it and sucked, only to find the liquid no longer tasted sweet, nor did it have any numbing effect. So the poison degraded quickly if removed from the pool? Then didn't that mean I could drink it? It tasted a bit gross now, but it couldn't be more dangerous to me than it had been before... It would also be useless for use on the wolves. I reluctantly discarded the shell, and returned to my noise making efforts.

I kept it up for a full ten minutes before I heard snarling. Apparently, the wolf had got fed up with the noise, and was here to shut me up. There was, thank goodness, only one of them, and this time I had a far better view of it. It was pony sized and wolf shaped, black furred with protruding fangs that were easily the length of my spear. All four paws sported long, curved claws. Its eyes were too large for its face, slitted, and I could see occasional flashes from within, as if there was something reflective deep inside them. They were obviously adapted to the darkness. Which simply made them better targets.

"You might as well give up already," I told it. "Even if you kill me here, I'll still be back. I only need to be lucky once, but you need to be lucky every time."

It growled at me in response, then leapt. Given its size, I didn't fancy my chances of catching its full weight, but with my spiked shield, that still seemed my best option. With my back pushed up hard against the wall, I let go of my spear, held tightly to my shield with both arms, and aimed its spike directly in the path of the wolf. It slammed into me, driving the shield backwards into my chest, and my back into the wall. The impact winded me, and no doubt left me with a few scrapes, but the stupid wolf had just impaled itself. The horn had run straight into its mouth!

It pulled back and thrashed around wildly, spewing out blood. Continuing to use the shield instead of the loose horn, I jabbed at it a few more times, not inflicting any more wounds the size of the first, but still managing a few shallow stabs. I had to dodge or block claw swipes a few times, but it wasn't really aiming for me, just spasming randomly, which made it easy. A few minutes later, it had stopped moving.

New skill gained: Novice blocker

When something wants to kill you, it's often advisable to keep something large and sturdy between you and it. A wall might be preferable, but sometimes effectiveness must give way to practicality. This skill will aid you in the use of more portable shields.

That was... anticlimactic. No, wait. Bad Katie! Don't think such dangerous thoughts!

Alas, my self-beratement came too late, as I heard more snarling start up in the darkness, this time from multiple directions. I caught the reflected light in... one, two, three new pairs of eyes. Hurriedly grabbing my spear again and backing towards the wall, I saw the first monster leap just as I reached it. Bracing the shield with both arms, I managed to pull the same stunt as last time, laughing as a second wolf impaled itself on the spike.

Then I stopped laughing as its thrashing snapped the spike off, and the next wolf leapt.

Still winded from the previous impact, I barely held this one back, and then had no response to make when it swept at me with its vicious claws. It caught the edge of the shield, tearing it off my arm, but fortunately not causing me further injury. That freed up my right hand, so I stabbed out with my spear, catching it in the eye, and doing enough damage for it to join its pack-mate on the floor, thrashing around in its death throes. Alas, I didn't have time to withdraw my spear before it did so, and it wrenched it out of my hand.

That left me staring down the last wolf with neither shield nor weapon. Neither my original spear nor the second horn that had snapped off my shield would be accessible until the stabbed wolves stopped writhing, so I started edging along the wall towards my shield instead. The last wolf didn't have any intention of letting me reach it, though, leaping at me just like the others. Perhaps I got my statement about luck backwards; all of these wolves had used the same predictable attack, but each one had worn me down more, and now I was out of defences. They only had to be successful once, but to win this fight, I needed to be successful every time.

I dived out of the way of the leap, only to feel the impact of a claw swipe on my back. There was a sharp screeching as claws ran across chitin, but my improvised armour held, and the wolf failed to wound me. I scrambled for my shield, grabbing it with my right arm, but couldn't turn around in time to prevent the wolf from chomping down on my left one.

For a brief moment, we stared at each other in confusion, both equally surprised at the unexpected outcome; the wolf had completely failed to bite through my armour. My arm was crushed between two chitin plates, and I would surely have one hell of a bruise, but it was whole and unbroken. The wolf, apparently not having any plan for this eventuality, paused as it considered its next move, so I took the opportunity to thrust the edge of my shield into its eye.

That made it let go of me pretty quickly, whimpering at me before running away, tail between its legs. I'd taken down three wolves and injured a fourth with only bruises, scrapes, scratches and a drool covered hand to show for it. Nothing that would warrant another session in the healing pool. But what was with that bit at the end? The first time around, a wolf had bitten through my leg like it was nothing. Was this chitin actually some sort of super-material? I'd been intending to pluck out the wolf's claws and fangs once I killed it, to make myself some better weapons, but now it looked like that would actually be a downgrade.

I finished off the pair of downed wolves and recovered my pair of spears. It was a pity I couldn't reattach one to the shield. Most of the moss I'd stuck to it had been knocked off in the impacts too, leaving me without my torch. Nevertheless, I wanted to chase down the one that had fled before it recovered, or called down its mother on me or something.

I also really needed a drink. Preferably brandy, or something even stronger, but water would have to suffice for now.