From the short time John spent observing the situation before him, the meter-tall and six-meter-long Craylisk was a very resilient lizard, but mobility was not its strong suit. The pack of thrashers kept it flanked and repeatedly slammed their bulky fists onto its sides, chipping away at the dinner plate-sized scales protecting its vital organs.
And… now!
Whipping his right hand forward, he let the javelin fly, aiming at the back of the one who was preparing to strike the creature in their midst. Even with his enhanced strength the throw wasn't easy, but his estimated arc proved mostly correct, and the heavy projectile struck its right hip.
Before it had time to react, John recalled the weapon back and ducked down into the thick foliage around him.
The thrasher howled in pain and turned to search for the source of the unexpected attack. This distraction, however, proved a fatal mistake, because the enraged Craylisk immediately seized the opportunity and chomped down on the thrasher's left leg with its crocodile-like jaws.
Hearing the grinding and snapping of shattering bones, John winced and watched in awe as the Craylisk's neck muscles bulged out and it shook its head like a wet dog, tearing the whole leg off.
Ouch… Getting caught between those jaws is a death sentence.
John decided to enter the fight, but before that, he would create a more favorable position. To cause chaos, he willed his stiletto to strike from the other side of the clearing, burying itself into the larger thrasher's armpit the moment it lifted his arms to strike, and immediately followed by commanding the Desert wraith to attack.
Only his Storm wisp stayed in reserve flying high in the air and ready to assist against anything unexpected.
As the wraith surged forward, the molten glass at its core pulsed and contracted, drawing the surrounding sand closer. Its form shrank to half of its size, and the grains started to shimmer in orange radiance. As it neared the monsters ahead, the Wraith released its hold, expanding in size, and engulfing the area in scorching heat.
The extended mass of heated sand erupted outward, rapidly enveloping the unsuspecting ape-like creatures. Their dry fur couldn't resist the onslaught of half-melted grains of sand, and very soon small flames started dancing all over their bulky bodies, consuming the green, vine-like fur with voracious hunger. The creatures writhed and screeched in agony as their flammable skin ignited, and their forms quickly became covered in flames.
"Holy shit", John muttered in wonder.
That wraith is absolutely crazy, he thought as he watched the unfortunate beasts die, granting him their ash piles in quick succession.
Sure, he was aware that this was mostly due to their critical vulnerability to heat, but nonetheless, this was finally his first truly usable area of effect ability, and watching its impact, he couldn't ask for anything better.
The only thrasher that made it out alive was the larger one on the other side of the Craylisk who reacted in time, abandoned his pack, and ran deeper into the jungle.
Over the next fifteen seconds, the sand mostly lost its orange sheen, and the glass core hovering two meters above ground pulled all the grains back, reforming the meter-wide ball of swirling sand.
This, however, did nothing to the Craylisk, which merely opened its red eyes, surveyed the area, and turned to face its new target—John.
Uhh… Storm wisp, attack!
The bolt hit the top of its head, making it momentarily dip downward, but very soon the monster collected its footing, emitted an oddly resonating howl, and charged.
Damn it! His intuition told him the thing was vulnerable to freezing temperatures, which did jack shit, and its only vulnerable spot was its belly. The problem was, the belly was between a few tons of bulk covered in massive black scales and the ground, leaving John in a difficult situation.
Its body is tough but also very rigid. I should use that to my advantage, but how could I deliver a strike when it is always… Hmm, could it be…
Getting an idea, he recalled the stiletto hovering on the other side of the clearing due to the maximum possible distance and burst into a sprint.
He was following the previous trail, until a minute later he came onto the uneven spot where two knee-high roots crossed over the path very close to each other, creating an obstacle with a three-finger crevice between them.
Willing the stiletto to hide in the small slit facing upwards, he vaulted over and slowed down.
The Craylisk was barreling behind him in a mad frenzy, tearing through the vegetation and snapping small shrubs obstructing its way like twigs. Seeing its prey falter, it burst forward and rushed over the small obstacle before it.
Now! John willed his stiletto to fly up.
Its edge easily penetrated into the softer skin of its underbelly. The creature's momentum tried to tear the blade out, but the dense roots created a wedge, keeping the handle firmly stuck in place.
Looking over his shoulder, John could see the moment the beast realized the danger. Its eyes bulged out in panic, and it desperately tried to stop. This brought the second part of his plan into motion, and a lightning bolt struck directly into the monster's head.
Momentarily paralyzed, its massive body continued forward, sliding over the raised blade all the way to its tail where the stiletto caught on a scale and finally slipped out.
A gasp of shock escaped its menacing jaws. Tremors rippled through its massive frame, and its movements became erratic and uncoordinated. The creature's once powerful stride faltered, and it stumbled, its limbs losing the strength to carry its extreme weight.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Eyes, once filled with ferocity, now widened with a mix of confusion and pain, and John watched from a safe distance as the creature sank to the ground with its hind legs giving way beneath its weight. It tried to rally up and retaliate, but because John kept a safe distance between them, it couldn't reach and once more collapsed. With its last burst of strength spent, the pool of crimson liquid slowly expanded under its form, and with each passing moment, its movements grew weaker until finally, it lay still, its life force wholly extinguished. Its death, a testament to the vulnerability that lurked beneath its formidable exterior.
John smiled. A blue ball flew out of the curled corpse, granting him ten blue piles and changing his tattoo into a blue crocodile-like creature and a single thumb-sized star, solidifying the triumph he achieved mere moments before.
The Desert wraith would need more tests, but overall, it, coupled with the freshly evolved Feral intuition formed a significant addition to his already very strong arsenal.
After giving his body a couple of minutes of rest, he picked up the pace and continued deeper into the gloomy jungle ahead.
As he returned to the clearing, he came upon three juvenile Arkalal constrictors munching on the burnt corpses. The things must have sensed something because all three flew up and scattered in multiple directions.
Not expecting such a reaction, John only managed to command his wisp to strike one down, but the remaining two made it into the safety, disappearing from sight. Shrugging, he decided to ignore their flight and focused on the environment around him.
What was the reason behind their conflict, were they perhaps protecting something?
It took him over five minutes to carefully comb through the whole clearing, yet he had nothing to show for it. The place seemed exactly like a simple clearing should be.
Hmm…
Deeming the search fruitless, he stopped and continued further.
Over the following hour, he pushed his way deeper, killing every beast unfortunate or stupid enough to cross his path, until suddenly…
Hm? He stopped mid-stride and strained his ears.
"...r sh… we…"
People!
Going through the jungle in their direction, he gradually closed the distance until his ears picked up on subtle cues indicating that the voices were moving in his direction.
Finally, through a break in the foliage, he caught sight of them. They were walking with purpose, unaware of his presence, and he realized that they were heading towards the very spot he was standing.
Thinking quickly, he decided to change his approach. Instead of revealing himself or attempting to confront them directly, he held his ground and feigned ignorance of their impending arrival. He adjusted his stance, pretending to be resting with his back to the largest tree nearby.
Sending Storm wisp to hide in branches high above, stiletto to clip itself to his hip, and the Desert wraith acting like a vigilant protector nearby, he was ready for any outcomes.
With each passing moment, their voices grew louder, their footsteps drawing nearer. He maintained composure, carefully counting the number of unique voices and studying their demeanor.
It seems like there are at least three, but they seem friendly enough.
It was not hard to time, and mere seconds before they would come into the direct line of sight, he yelled out, "Hey, anyone there?" pretending to quickly stand up and to appear being caught off guard by their approach. He watched as they stopped and exchanged quick words in hushed whispers.
"Are you hurt?" Asked the leftmost member of the group of four, a dark-skinned woman in her late thirties.
"Hm? Oh… No, I am fine. I was just resting for a bit before moving on. What about you guys, is everything all right?"
"Indeed, we are holding up fairly well," spoke an older man wearing brown armor and a chunky wooden shield. "Do you want to…"
"What is that thing next to you?" Asked a younger man with a pronounced Scottish accent, interrupting the other man in the middle of his sentence.
"Don't be a dumbass, Connor. It's obviously a summoned minion." Quipped the last member of their group, another man in his early twenties.
"Oi, shut up Luke, that was a valid question, I…"
Sighing in defeat, the older gentleman lowered his shield and together with the woman made their way to John.
"I am sorry, those two… Anyway, I am George," he introduced himself with a slight nod yet keeping a small distance.
"I am John."
"Becky… and those two are Connor and Luke," she added, pointing behind her at the two arguing guys.
"How about you join us, John? We could use another capable pair of hands. Especially followed by that," he pointed at the wraith. "It looks like one mean bastard," George grinned.
"You alone?"
"Mhm," John nodded toward the guy with the Scottish accent. "You are the first group I've met… Well, met alive…"
"Alive?" George questioned with a frown.
"I've heard the sounds of a fight, but before I made it closer, there was only a mangled body and one of the thrashers eating the poor guy's leg."
"Thrasher, eh?" Said George with a knowing smile, making John realize what he was implying.
"We should…"
"Incoming!" Luke yelled out, making everyone tense up and face the direction he was pointing at.
Hm? I can't hear anything, John wondered, but a few seconds later, he started to pick up the barest sounds of something moving.
"I think it's those things you called the constrictors, and there are more than a few," Luke added.
Damn, he must have some perception-based cards. That could be something to look into later.
Luke and Connor immediately stopped their mock argument, showing unexpected professionalism, and manifested weapons into their hands.
"John, I don't know what you can do, and we don't have time for explanations, so do what you can," George nodded and took a position next to Becky in the front.
The things flooded into view like a tidal wave of wide-open maws, and John counted over a dozen juveniles, two larger, and one constrictor flying higher above, more than twice as wide as the other two.
[Arkalal constrictor Alpha]
[Arkalal constrictor Matriarch ⋆]
Both types were of the uncommon variety.
"Galanthar's blessing!" George yelled out. His body became wreathed in golden light, and a second later four golden beams shot out toward John and the other three members.
Seeing the beam impact the middle of his chest, he felt a moment where he had a choice whether to accept it or not and by letting it through his body also formed a golden hue.
What he didn't expect was for it to fracture and shoot out three smaller beams toward the wraith, stiletto, and also the wisp, making George lift his left eyebrow and tilt his head upwards.
Ehh, at least there is no reason to hold myself back, John shrugged, pulled out his javelin, and willed all three of his minions to engage.