Serpentine heads snapped at me viciously as I steadied my shield. The force behind the attacks were deceptively heavy, each head's multiple fangs breaking my stance bit by bit. Still, I knew from experience that it wasn't smart to change my tactics.
The 2 metre tall Mini-Hydra, as I grew to call it, had a tendency to tire itself out after going into a frenzy. Despite its many heads, the sum of its intelligence was still lacking somewhat, allowing Gro'Bur and I to farm the creatures with this tactic relatively easily. Their elastic muscles and many heads, as it turned out, were exceptional delicacies, especially after roasting over the pit for an hour or so. I eyed the goblin lying lazily on the branches above me, his one leg swinging carefree over the edge. With a thought, I sent a mental communique across quickly.
Father, a little assistance perhaps?
"No, no. Son can do it." he replied, his expression still serene as though there wasn't a life or death battle occurring beneath his nose.
"We Champions of the Forest! Eat shit snakehead!" he chuckled loudly. With an annoyed grunt, I received the latest round of attacks on my trusty shield. Made partly from the rib cage of the Great Elk, we had wrapped the creature's tough hide over it tightly, stabilizing it with several bunched up vines. This formed a durable membrane-like barrier capable of enduring significant punishment.
The Mini-Hydra's attacks, however many, stood no chance. On two of the rib bones, there lay four eye catching squares, each carved deep till it reached into the marrow. All eight were connected by even deeper scratches that stretched all the way to the spine. At the multi junction, set like a centerpiece, was the stone we had picked up from the river.
Eventually a short lull came from the continuing onslaught, the sign that I was waiting for. Right as it threw its latest bite, I shoved the shield forward suddenly, slamming its head back into another. Stunned, the creature's many heads stopped moving for an instant. With a heavy swing, I slashed my sword across two of its necks, severing the heads smoothly.
Piercing shrieks sprang out from the remaining three heads, before they renewed their terrifying assault on me. Not willing to go through another one sided beating, I gripped the handle tightly, willing the mana within the stone into the shield. I had enough leeway to watch with my magi sense as what seemed like bright blue liquid trickled through the scars, leading into the multiple runic shapes carved into bone.
Almost immediately, a familiar bright flash tore across the grove, causing both the Mini-Hydra and a certain goblin to cry out in surprise. Not wasting a chance, I swiped my blade across two of the heads. I casted a purple net on the third. With a crunch beneath my feet, a crushed neck served as the end to the tiring hunt.
"Argghh! Always warn! Always!" Screeched my father. He tumbled down into the bushes below, nearly cracking the bow he tied to his chest. Tired out, I sat on my rear end to catch my breath. The prized shield glowed softly before returning to its original state, a soft whine resounded as the mana dissipated into the air.
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It had been three days since we had slain the Great Elk, and I was still finding out more and more about this system of magic that ruled the world. Each discovery opened up new ways for me to utilize it in a different fashion.
Especially after getting a hold of the spell stone.
After the incident with the human mage, further experimentation yielded shocking results. Etched on an almost microscopic level, there was now a small scar, one that highly resembled the mana structures I used to cast spells. If not for the preciseness of magi sense, I would never have even noticed the mark, much less figure out how to make use of it.
The stone was like a battery, one that absorbed mana like a filtered sponge; to a limit, allowing another to withdraw that mana to power their spells. This trait must have been why the human was still able to cast magic, despite having been drained to the last. The waters held some mana after all, and after years of constantly being submerged in it, the rock must have naturally absorbed at least a modicum of power.
Ironically, it was this trait that confused me the most. For quite awhile, I had struggled with getting the mana structure to activate from the stone itself.
Simply put, the spellstones were a one time commodity. One stone, one spell; limited by tier, I assumed. The mana would run out eventually after all. I had already shunted a good portion of my own mana into it. Further experimentation taught me that the mana needed to be carefully funneled into the rune. Coating it the way
A previous lifetime of constant gaming told me this was something akin to enchantment. At first, I was ecstatic at the discovery. After all, who wouldn't be? I had discovered my way to strength, putting me on the fast track to meet one of the so-called gods.
There were tight limits to the spellstone however, something I quickly found out. Each one held a limit of a single spell etched inside. Casting a new spell on an etched spellstone cracked it severely, ruining both the rune and its battery ability. I would have to fit a study period once again to fully harness its potential. That and to replenish my small stock of spellstones. I had burned through them far too quickly in my research, and I never had a good deal of them in the first place.
Walking up to my annoyed father, I pulled him up with one hand, hoisting him to the nearest tree with a laugh. We were about to collect the spoils of our fight when several shadows burst out from the nearby bush. I growled in surprise, before noticing who our latest foes were.
Crouched in front of the mini-hydra's corpse were 4 diminutive goblins. Their discolored skin bore signs of a fight gone wrong; a deep cut here, a torn nail there. The largest was even missing an eye. All held the same expression on their face in front of the carcass: Desperation, hunger, fear. They snarled fiercely, their white teeth bared and gleaming with the glare of the sun. I might have been slightly intimidated, if not for the fact that my olive-skinned cousins looked ready to collapse at any given moment.
Especially the half blind one; he was already facing the opposite direction.
There was a brief moment of tension in the air, before One-eye dropped to the ground unceremoniously. Gro'bur took the chance to tackle the remaining three to the ground, which wasn't exactly a difficult task all things considered.
With a shrug, my father bundled the three unconscious younglings and wrapped them up with vines. It seemed we’d have company for dinner tonight.