“They brought back Cecilia, and the harpies, again,” I reported to Bella and Bea. I was watching my tablet intently, while the other two lounged around the boss arena of the Garden. Since we’d ended up pretty messed up in that last encounter, I suggested we swap off guard duty with Voss and his staff. They were better against the mangrove swamp anyways, corrupted nature was Voss’s domain after all..

Since he took the remains of his forces, the dryads and mycelium, with him I used our respawn to bring back the rest of Bea’s squad to fill in our defenses.

“I don’t even want to think about the fight,” Bea whined. “I’m so used to having to deal with short, intense fights. This is exhausting.” She stretched out, causing her joints to pop, and wincing at the sudden pain. “At least in a regular match, we don’t have to sit around while injured.”

“I intend to ask Lanivia if she’s willing to support additional training when this match is done. We could definitely use some additional healers, and there may be people willing to learn, now that it’s relevant.” I didn’t take my eyes off the tablet, but slowly petted George, who was laying with his head across my lap. The poor guy was whining quietly, which wasn’t surprising after the beating he took in the last fight. I just wish I could do more for him.

“Well, there’s about an hour left, so you’ll have to put up with it a little while longer… unless we want to swap some people around, just to pull a healer in here temporarily,” Bella said, as she floated on her back, watching the match on a different tablet.

I actually looked up this time. “Actually… that’s not a bad idea, considering how beat up we are. The only problem is the Dread Isles haven’t committed to their next attack yet, and if we shuffle people around we might end up weakening one of the remaining floors.”

“Which way do you think they’ll go?” Bea asked.

“I don’t know,” I said after a moment of contemplation. “Several squads in the Baths are weakened, but Kass and Calliope are in good shape. On the other hand, our squads are fresh and we’re worn down. I think it’ll depend on who they send. Kasaya will want to knock us out, while I think Cecilia will still want to avoid engaging the anthophilans. They’re running out of troops, so no matter which way they choose, they’ll be cautious.”

George let out a harumph noise on my lap, so I went back to petting him. I also swapped my tablet over to the feed so I could monitor Voss. We could deal with an attack if, and when, it happened, until then, all I could do was support my co-worker.

—

Voss stepped off the narrow path, and sunk into the shallow, stagnant water of the swamp. It came up to his knees, and wasn’t pleasant, but it was still a lot better than the toxic puddles of the forest. After a few seconds, he began to slowly stride forward, heading deeper into the mangroves. To his left, the squad of mycelium people advanced in loose formation. The eight-foot-tall mushrooms took long, slow steps forward, their ten-foot poisonous pikes held out in front of them. They were normally cautious, but it seemed that being outside the Wailing Manor had really put them on edge.

Behind the mycelium squad were the deadwood dryads. They normally didn’t like to leave the Forest, or home grove when not participating in a match, so they were even more on edge than the mushrooms. They darted from tree to tree, trying to hide their slightly twisted visages. Voss wanted to turn, and try to offer some support, but before he could their first opponents emerged from the swamps.

Hunched, crocodilian forms wearing a combination of bone and wood armor. Most of them only had crude clubs, but considering they were each nearly as tall as the mycelium, yet twice as wide, those crude weapons would probably do some serious damage. While the mushrooms formed up, creating a solid line of spears, the dryads started channeling their essence into the surrounding trees. The mangrove roots reached up, grasping at, and entangling some of the crocodilians, while the remaining rushed the spears. They should have been paying more attention to the surrounding area, because they rushed right past Voss, or at least attempted to. As the first crocodilian rushed past, he snatched the crocoman, raised him up, then smashed the creature straight down into its nearest ally, derezing them both.

“Fools! I told you to wait for me before engaging,” came a hoarse cry from further in the swamp. Even though the voice was quiet, it carried authority. Voss turned, to find an extremely weathered old woman, wearing tattered robes, riding a titanic mangrove monstrosity. It wasn’t large enough to challenge him directly, but it was close. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to greet you. I am Estelle Magnes, and this is my swamp.” The woman slammed her gnarled walking stick on the back of the monstrosity, and it started moving forward. “I’d ask you to leave, but I think we both know you’re too stubborn. Most ents are, so we’ll just jump to the part where I force you.”

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She waved her staff, and immediately all the roots released their grasp, allowing the crocodilians to surge forward. One impaled itself on the mycelium spears, while the remaining two managed to push through, smashing into the defensive lines. While the dryads tried desperately to gain control of the roots again, Estelle just laughed. “This is my swamp, young ones, and it follows my commands, not yours. I would deal with you, but Voss and I will be having words… go play with my daughters.” She pointed down the path, where several robed forms were rushing forward, staves already channeling magic.

The mycelium were just starting to get the upper hand on their foes, spearing one of the remaining crocodilians in exchange for one of their own, when the first wave of black magic slammed into them. Black tentacles rose out of the ground, grasping at the mushrooms, forcing them to the ground, writhing in pain.

While the squads brawled, Voss strode forward, slowly approaching the old hag. “You should not have come here. You are but a single tree, but here, I control every root and leaf.” She pointed at the mangrove to Voss’s left, and the tree’s roots rose up, grasping at his arm. Despite being grasped by dozens of tendrils, he simply gave one massive yank and every single root snapped. The massive mangrove, now missing half of its supports, slowly toppled behind him as he stepped forward.

“A brute,” Estelle spat, “I would have thought you would have more respect.”

“I have respect for nature, but this is just a simulation. Nothing will be damaged when we are done,” Voss replied, his deep voice echoing through the space.

Estelle grunted, then swept her staff, animating two more trees, while Voss just continued forward.

Back on the paths, the final crocodilian roared, smashing its club down into the crippled mycelium, finishing another two off. Just as it was about to crush the last of them, the Dryads rushed forward. Despite their diminutive size, and lack of martial prowess, they grappled with the massive crocodilian. The first dryad grabbed its arm, preventing it from swinging, while some of the others grabbed legs. The confused crocodilian almost shook them off, before the final dryad smashed into its middle, tacking it to the ground.

One of the hags cackled. “Maintain your magic on the vile ‘shrooms, my sisters. That creature can handle a handful of… eh?” As she taunted, one of the mycelium just sat up, and casually reached for its spear. “Stop that, get back down on the ground where you belong,” the crone growled, shooting a bolt of dark energy at the mushroom. The mycelium creature staggered, but didn’t go down. In fact, the other remaining mycelium was also climbing to its feet, despite the grasping dark tendrils around both of them. The crocodilian raged on the ground, finally grabbing one of the dryads, biting deep into her neck, but it was too little too late. With an almost casual indifference the two mycelium stabbed the creature as they passed by, heading towards the hags.

“What sorcery is this? What have you done?” The crone spat at the remaining dryads.

“We haven’t done anything,” one of the dryads laughed, falling to the ground in exhaustion, “It’s the mushies’ most defining trait. If given enough time, they suck up impurities, and use them to strengthen themselves. Toxins, diseases,” she paused, a small smile crossing her lips, “curses.”

“Wretches!” As the two mycelium people strode towards the hags, unaffected by their magic, the crone pointed towards the dryads. “Strike them down while we have the strength. As much as I hate it, we’ll have to leave the cleanup to Mother Estelle.” What followed was a brief, but brutal exchange where the dryads were ravaged by curses, while the mycelium cut down the hags. At the end of it, only the two mushrooms, and two dryads remained.

Back in the swamp, Voss was struggling. Every time he advanced, Estelle retreated and directed more trees at him. His limbs had been ravaged, leaking sap everywhere, but he still pressed forward.

“Why haven’t you given up, rotwood?” Estelle asked, eyeing him warily. “You cannot reach me.”

Voss laughed, a deep echoing laugh. “You may be the mistress of these swamps, but you can’t feel absolutely everything, can you? I don’t need to reach you. We’re both finished.”

The crone froze, looking at the crumbling ent for a moment, before reaching down to touch her mount. The creature moaned, and shuddered. “How far have your toxins traveled, old one?”

“Far enough that you won’t escape before your monster dies, and without someone to provide an antidote, the toxins will take you within minutes of entering the water,” Voss replied. His pace never slowed, he just kept advancing.

“Then well played,” Estelle slumped, showing her age for the first time since the fight started. “Outmaneuvered in my own swamp, it’s been a long time since that’s happened.” She took a shaky breath, then stood up straight. “Then let’s not draw this out any longer.”

Estelle tapped her walking stick on the monstrosity’s back, and it instantly started moving forward, raising its fists. Deep in the swamp the two titans came together, clashing for mere moments, before the wounds and toxins overtook them both. The swamp was once again still.