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C0G - A Fantasy Progression LitRPG
Chapter 2 ~ Fenaggling the Fialtog

Chapter 2 ~ Fenaggling the Fialtog

Despite loving stories based around portal fantasies, adventuring, magic and intense combat, Cog never learned how to fight. He dropped out of karate when he got one belt higher than white - he couldn’t even recall what color it was - and only remembered how to throw a proper punch and basic kick. He hated getting into fights, too, because it always made him feel like hot garbage afterwards. That was one aspect he and his dad shared - they both hated conflict.

Needless to say, when he wiped the chunks of nondescript, half-digested meat from his mouth and stared down a paw’s worth of razor-sharp claws, he knew damn well he'd have to fight or die. Of course, not knowing how to fight and not wanting to die, he didn’t have any good options and could only hope for the best.

He smirked in the moment just before the impact at a realization that had snuck through the frenzy.

Guess this gives a whole new meaning to spray and pray, he thought.

Then, he was impaled through the right shoulder with a set of shovel-like claws. He screamed out in agony, mind jolting with a start. It felt… weird. Unexpected. The closest thing he could describe the experience to would be hitting a computer and immediately getting a brief visual glitch before it returns to normal, except he was the screen at that moment.

After the odd feeling, his body seemed to react on its own, left arm lashing out and swatting at the leg with the still-inserted unguis. With another bellow that he didn’t actively call forth, the claws dragged and shredded his shoulder, but were removed from his body. The subconscious motion was accompanied by another flash of light outside.

This brought about good news and bad news. Good news? He was able to move about freely and possibly escape with his life. Bad news? His right arm was not only dead, but in immense pain. If he didn’t know better, he'd think the creature’s nails were soaked in some kind of poison or irritant. Maybe something akin to rubbing alcohol or hand sanitizer instead? It burned like hell, and he couldn’t bring himself to leap around like he had when entering the cave.

Once it got past its initial shock at his actions, the panther-like beast lunged at him again, using the same leg to try and sever his arm fully. He leaned out of the way, nearly losing his balance but only getting lightly grazed across the cheek with the claws rather than losing an appendage so early. He realized he might be able to look into what it was through the system, uttering every synonym for ‘scan’ he knew of. He kept trying his best to dodge, but every attack it made got closer to landing lasting damage. Every so often, more flashes of blue light erupted from the dim sky.

After about fifteen seconds, he mentally bellowed the word ‘Info’ while staring down the creature before him. A window popped up in his peripheral vision, and he opened it to a size that would let him easily read it without hindering his sightline of the creature before him.

[CREATURE INFO: FIALTOG

TYPE: MONSTROUS, FELINE, RODENT

CHROMA: NONE

VYR: NONE

SIMULACRA: NONE

STATS:

MIND: N (Animal)

BODY: O

SOUL: N

AURA: R

DESCRIPTION: Fialtog are a variety of feline monstrosity that reside within cave systems and abandoned structures. They don’t need many nutrients, as their bodies are capable of feeding off of localized Chroma, but considering they’re only pseudo-magical, they must eat at least once a week. Their favored prey are animals that are relatively large with plenty of protein (I.E Larger rodents, birds, lizards and small humanoids). Their mouths have adapted from a single, massive maw used to swallow large chunks of meat at a time; while it was helpful to eat fast, it took far too long to digest their meals. Therefore, Chroma helped to develop their evolution to provide multiple smaller mouths; this allows them to now eat just as fast, but also allows them to fully chew their food first.

WARNING: Should you get stung by their tail, seek medical attention IMMEDIATELY. This is a deadly neurotoxin that will erode the brain in under an hour for most Normal Threshold individuals.]

He huffed. Of course these damned things ate small humanoids, and of course it was in this ‘abandoned’ cave.

Allowing himself to get distracted, he was unable to dodge a massive slashing motion from the thing, and a fresh, gaping wound across his gut began to pour out blood.

He glanced at his health bar in a panic. It hadn’t even regenerated back to full over the seven hours - only about two thirds of the way there - and it was already down to a quarter and dropping rapidly. His mind reeled, trying to think of anything that could potentially help him; something was itching at the back of his mind, but he couldn’t place it. The system hadn't granted him anything he could think of that would aid him in the situation, and he hadn’t checked on any inventory he had. Now was a horrible time to do so, anyways; he'd die before he got anything useful out of it.

He narrowly avoided a lash from the beast’s tail, causing a bubble of panic to rise, then pop in his gut.

His health dropped to a fifth of the total bar, and he took a shaky, deep breath as he narrowly avoided another swipe. A rumble echoed from outside, and the itch in his mind began to intensify.

If he tried to fight, he'd bleed out. If he tried to run, he'd be killed. If he tried to heal, even if he had anything that would allow such miraculous regeneration, he'd be killed. His head worked on a swivel as he was pushed closer and closer to the cave’s entrance. He began to wonder how many things he'd miss in this world, if he'd wake up ever again once the darkness of death would claim him. His health had gone down to a sixth by then, and another near miss had knocked him onto the cavern floor. His wild anxiety reached a fever pitch with a brief flare of light from the cavern entrance.

Then, all at once, he felt something within himself snap into place.

The anxiety had mounted to its peak by then, quickly settling into a hard store of energy to do what he had to. Possibilities and actions flashed through his mind - various attacks he could attempt, methods of escape and even what he could do if he had any abilities. He couldn’t see anything working for a half moment, narrowly dodging another gruesome slash, when something finally returned to his mind in full force. He felt a deep, roiling rage accompany his defiance of death and of this enemy, and his actions were hesitant no longer.

There was no telling if he'd live through it or not, but it was better than dying without trying. Besides, this body lived it once already. Why not twice?

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

He held his breath as the monstrosity crept closer to him, eyeless face inches away from his own.

Come on, he thought. Just give me one more-

A flash of light acted as his own personal starter’s pistol, a handful more following it as he burst into motion. He kicked his legs as hard as he could into the chest of the creature, clamping down on its narrow face with his own enormous jaw. While it had six maws, it seemed none of them were especially strong in terms of opening force, because it struggled helplessly against him. More than once, when it whipped its head at a weird angle, he felt a deep cracking and a give that hadn’t been there before; then, he bit down harder. They tumbled out of the cavern in a heap, and Cog shoved his left arm hard into the stone floor for momentum as he swung himself atop the feline, pushing it roughly against the ground outside. He was impressed with the speed that he was able to do so, and was grateful that the lightning was plentiful that dawn.

Just as he had hoped, his copper hair attracted another lightning bolt, which arced sharply and hurtled towards him in an instant. He planted his feet and reasserted his grip on the now winded feline behemoth as it approached, then let the lightning course through himself. The familiar, violent force of the impact rattled his teeth and caused his already tense muscles to clench even further; it felt like his gums were injected with electrified Novocain. His teeth felt like he'd chewed tin foil for an hour, and he smelled smoke. He saw a familiar debuff - Paralysis IX - pop into view for mere moments before a new one replaced it. He felt the entire charge from the strike flow out of him and into the thing beneath him, its spasming body whipping itself out of his mouth as its eyeless skull became a slow cooker. A thought crossed his mind - the fact that he was so much warmer from so much energy forcing its way through him - and he felt just curious enough about why it hadn’t actually hurt him to tamp down a bit of panic.

He spat hair and blood onto the ground as he felt the tingling pain left over from the charge, like his entire body had fallen asleep. As soon as he could reliably move, however, he dove back into the cave as fast as his legs could take him. He took a look at the new debuff.

[LIGHTNING ROD X - 00:04:56]

Great, he thought. More stuff I don’t understand.

He contemplated thinking ‘Info’ at the debuff, but since he didn’t want to deal with an influx of information - his mind was focused simply on recovery - he didn’t put enough will behind it to make anything happen. He looked out at what was apparently called a Fialtog; it was soaked in a couple of patches with his own blood, which seemed to have fully coagulated in the heat of the strike. He smiled, looking down and noticing the bolt had the secondary effect he'd wanted, as well; it had cauterized the wounds that were pouring blood. Absently, he wondered why he didn’t get a debuff that said something like Bleeding. He'd have to get the info on that later-

[DEBUFF INFO: BLEED

EFFECT: Health decreases by a higher rate of damage for each instance of Bleed on a target. Not all bleeding is the Bleed affliction; oftentimes, Bleed is only induced by special magical weapons or attacks, and actively includes one or more Anticoagulant effects within the debuff itself.]

He heaved a sigh. He did want to know, but any information at that moment was going in one ear and shot back out the other. The panic party that was his brain refused any and all new data, only wanting to give him a migraine and the shakes. He swallowed hard, realizing he couldn’t move his right arm still. He assumed healing magic must have been a thing, so he tried not to worry about it too much.

‘Tried’ being the operative word.

Despite everything he had done to try and think instead of freak out before, his brain was in a primal state of fear and agitation. He shook his head, looking around the cave and making sure he didn’t miss any more abominations that this place had laying nearby, then he looked out at the slowly brightening sky overhead. It was still raining, but after catching his breath, he finally realized it was some sort of sun-shower. The sun was rising, but no overcast clouds could be seen. He shook his head, fight or flight instincts pounding against his skull, which resulted in a throbbing migraine.

He desperately wanted to lie down and take a nap, maybe eat some snacks or something. Calm down and reset his mind. Unfortunately, he had no such luxuries; the best thing he could hope for was his natural regeneration making him feel better as soon as possible. Even if he could have slept safely then, he wouldn’t want to; he was unsure if the first lightning strike - and subsequent throttling he'd experienced - had given him a concussion.

He glanced at the charred corpse still laying outside. It was an ashy black now, muzzle cauterized where his fangs had sunk into it. He felt his prominent underbite, remnants of the creature lightly coating the teeth. A new screen lit up in front of him.

[You have slain 1 {Fialtog}! Would you like to loot {Fialtog}?

>Y/N ]

He couldn’t register the words for a few seconds, and the tinnitus he hadn’t realized he was experiencing until then began to fade. It lasted a few minutes, much like his mindless state, and all at once he snapped himself back to the present. He felt lightheaded, nauseous and woozy all over again. Glancing at the prompt, he half-heartedly selected yes.

A sack the size of a volleyball fell on his head from where it seemingly materialized in the air, and he hit the floor hard. It wasn’t enough to knock him out, but it certainly rang his bell.

[Congratulations! You have defeated 1 {Fialtog}! You have gained the following loot:

* +4 Stat Points (Enemy 4 thresholds above you)

* +4 YD (Enemy 4 thresholds above you)

* +10 Fialtog Fangs (Common, Mediocre Quality)

* +2 Fialtog Hide (Uncommon, Average Quality)

* +1 Fialtog Stinger (Rare, Average Quality)

* +2 OD, +15 RD]

He shook his head, gingerly touching the top of his skull. Not feeling any blood or bruising, he sighed, going to open the bag before realizing his arm still wasn’t working right. It hung an inch lower than before, but all of the flesh was cauterized. He gagged and heaved as he caught the torn and exposed muscle from his periphery, covering his mouth to keep anything else from coming up.

Unfortunately, stepping in the now lukewarm pile of vomit from earlier broke open the flood gates, and he added a fresh layer of bile to the cavern floor.

After he regained his composure, he took a shaky breath, spitting out remnant chunks and stomach acid. The taste was vile, but no worse than he'd dealt with before in his life. He inspected the window that had popped up, blinking at the laundry list of goodies. He didn’t think that levels were a thing - "thresholds" here, apparently - since there wasn’t a pop-up for them in the menu he'd looked at.

Not willing to make the same mistake twice, he searched the cave for an alcove that was empty and closed off on all but one side. Soon, he found a fitting hovel, as well as a large rock that could block off the entrance. He looked at his fingers, then jammed them into the stone, wondering if his half-baked idea would work. When they sank into the stone like butter, he grinned broadly.

He rolled the rock haphazardly back to the indentation that would let him rest with plenty of open space, despite the difficulty of doing so with one good arm. He hoped beyond hope that he wouldn’t have to amputate that limb. He'd look into the bizarre physics later on.

After blocking himself off from anything else that the cave could send at him, he took a solid two or three minutes for himself. Fortunately, using the 4-7-8 technique multiple times helped him to re-center his body and abate a solid amount of inner turmoil. Finally, it was time to take stock of his situation, and the first thing he did was inspect his intuition about his surroundings and immediate well-being. He always trusted his gut, and only now did he feel he could actually sit back and listen to it; much to his relief, it told him that he was safe, and that was good enough for him. Continuing to breathe in the same pattern as he worked, he opened the menus to read through what he hadn’t had the chance to before.

The first thing he did was looking into his settings. He set loot to 'Auto-Place in Inventory', gingerly rubbing his head.

He took a deep, shaky breath; his judgement was clearly compromised, so sleep was first and foremost. He could always look into the Chroma information after his mind regained focus. He never liked to learn when tired, because it never stuck with him. As he was then, the Chroma stuff would go in one ear and out the other. The thought of a concussion crossed his mind, but the growing drowsiness and lack of anyone around him to aid him in staying awake urged his eyelids to droop further and further. He tried to fight the sleep, but eventually, it overtook him in a gentle yet undeniable grasp.