Absolem looked bored as he peered down at me from his perch on the over-sized fern. He pulled a breath from his hookah and prepared to exhale.

I held up a hand.

“Don’t,” I said, glaring up at the bug.

His eyebrows raised and a mischievous smile slowly curled across his caterpillar lips.

“You need me just as much as I need you. But think very carefully before you make your next move,” I warned. “Breathe smoke on me one more time, just once, and I promise you that a fear of flight will be the least of your problems. Do you understand?”

He seemed to consider this for a moment before pointedly swallowing.

The gesture filled me with disgust but, to my genuine surprise, he didn’t seem to mind. I waited for him to say something, to hurl some insult or another while staring down at me with abject disapproval.

He remained silent instead.

I crossed my arms and let out a sigh.

“You were right,” I said at last. “The cat was no help at all.”

This seemed to brighten the caterpillar’s disposition, though he still looked at me with disdain.

“Well, Not-Alice,” he drawled in his usual fashion. “It would appear… the silly girl… has finally… learn-ed… her place. Issuing… threats… is such… a… dreadful… disgrace.”

It was obvious the bug was mocking me. Throwing the cat’s rhyming structure into his already annoying pattern of speech, but exaggerated, was like rubbing salt in a wound.

I turned to observe the slugs and the ants. All of this time, and I still faced the same challenge. I thought I had it all figured out. It was so simple. Until it wasn’t. My journey in the dungeon had come full circle.

It felt like I had been here for ages, and I was right back where I started. The mechanical roar in the distance and the burning pain in my leg were terrible reminders that the long detour hadn’t been without consequences.

“You really are a terribly dull girl, aren’t you, Not-Alice? Is this your plan? You intend to stand idly around, just milling about?” Absolem asked.

He let loose another smoke ring in spite of my previous threat. It zoomed toward me and crashed against my chest, pushing me backward.

“As punishment for your failures, I must insist that you honor my initial request,” he added, glaring down at me. “Until you do, I will simply refuse to form my cocoon. No matter how many of those uncultured heathens you choose to murder on my behalf.”

He was obviously referring to the mobs I would have to kill just to convince him to start his evolution. These were the very same mobs I was certain would come in wave after wave, forcing me to defend him while he completed his drawn-out transformation. I could only guess that he would eventually transform from a grotesque-looking caterpillar into some kind of butterfly, but only if I did what he asked.

The problem was, I didn’t recall the caterpillar asking me to do anything. In fact, I was quite positive he had only managed to insult me from the very first moment we’d met.

“Your initial request?” I asked. “You wanted me to kill these other bugs. Now you’re telling me you won’t wrap yourself in your cocoon if I don’t kill the bugs, no matter how many bugs I kill? How is that supposed to make sense?”

He rolled his buggy eyes and took another long drag.

“You are confused, Dear Miss,” he intoned. “That was not my first request.”

I tried to think back to our first meeting. The mere memory made my blood pressure start to rise. There had been no previous request. He had asked me if I was here to recite poetry, and then insulted me for not being Alice. Some wonderland this turned out to be. I had even asked him if he would fly if I recited a poem. He had refused.

But maybe that was it…

“Are you wanting me to recite a poem now, even though you refused me before? Is that it?” I asked, feeling more than a little incredulous.

“A recitation,” he corrected. “And, yes, that will do.”

“You didn’t request that at all,” I countered. “In fact, you told me you didn’t want it.”

“Nevertheless…”

“Is there any particular poem you’d like?” I fumed. “I don’t really know any off the top of my head.”

“Off the top of your head. Yes. I’ll take one of those. An original, if you’d be so kind.”

Now, this was an impossible task. I wasn’t a poet. In fact, I’d never written a poem in my entire life. That was always something Ellis had done. He was good at it, too. He could string words out of thin air like a fish could drink. It always used to make me laugh whenever he’d recite one of his poems in that sing-song voice of his.

Damnit. I missed him so much.

“Go on,” Absolem insisted. “We haven’t got all day.”

I cleared my throat and clenched my fists.

“Roses are red. Violets are blue. You’re pissing me off, and I hate you, too.”

“Tsk. Tsk,” he chided, shaking his head. “You call that a poem? No, no, no. Try again. Put your heart into it this time, you silly girl.”

All of this just so I could attempt to fight the other bugs, and more than likely die in the process? This dungeon seemed to be doing everything in its power to humiliate me.

I absentmindedly plucked a large mushroom from the undergrowth and stuck it into my inventory. It was a rust color of red and smelled strongly of dirt. If nothing else, Cheshire had said at least one side would help me shrink. His insistence that they tasted horrible was not difficult to believe.

“Go on,” Absolem insisted. “Try again, Not-Alice. The words await and I do so very much detest waiting.”

“You and me both, stupid bug,” I muttered, just quiet enough that he couldn’t hear.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

“No, no. You must speak up when performing a recitation, girl,” he corrected.

Closing my eyes against the building rage, I chose not to respond, but quietly listened for the words that swirled inside of me. Ellis always said you could hear them, so long as you gave them enough space. Nothing came to me at first but, just as I was about to give up, I felt the gentle tug from somewhere deep within.

The words came slowly at first. Then they spilled out in a cadence all on their own. It was as if they had been there all along. Hiding. Waiting. Yearning to be set free.

I’m but a wisp willow wonder

In this place of utter despair,

Where hidden dark forces pull under

All who remain ignorant, unaware.

A caterpillar seeks fighters,

While staring down at it all.

There are giant-sized spiders,

And a cat, large, yet strangely too small.

The cat spreads confounding confusions,

And there’s no way to know.

Through caustic smoke and illusions,

The silly worm refuses to—

Absolem interrupted me with a loud cough, continuing to look down from his perch on the fern. He took a long, long pull from his hookah. His eyes rolled back in his head while I waited for an explanation.

“That was the most atrocious thing I have ever heard in my entire life.” He groaned, letting out a large burst of smoke that quickly enveloped me. “Not-Alice, indeed. You should be both utterly humiliated and completely ashamed.”

By the time the putrid cloud had dissipated, I found the caterpillar had moved to stand next to me.

“Oh, well,” he went on, staring lazily at the nearest slug. “I suppose we ought to begin. You may start by killing… that one, there.”

****

Countless bug corpses littered the forest floor. I was up to my knees in mandibles and bile and slime, and Absolem had just barely decided to start building his chrysalis.

As for the encounter itself, it had gone exactly as I’d predicted. The bugs came slowly at first, one after the other. Fighting drew them in, changing their status to aggro. Their frequency increased over time until one would show up before the previous died, forcing me to juggle the two. They seemed to be spawning from somewhere nearby.

I was surprised to find that fighting two bugs of a similar type wasn’t so bad. It was when you were forced to handle both a slug and an ant that things got tricky. Their moves were annoyingly complimentary. You had to be mindful of how each attacked, both individually and in combination with the other.

It went on like this for a while. The fight was equal parts defeating the incoming mobs and managing my limited pool of mana. Every last MP had to be used as efficiently as possible. I couldn’t fight in the same way I had against Leopold or the Spider Matriarch. It now appeared that I would either live or die based on how effectively I could manage my cool downs and mana regeneration.

The tempo shifted once again when Absolem begrudgingly started forming his cocoon. Now the mobs were coming in waves of three and four.

Main Quest Progression:

Absolem's Abjuration:

When Caterpillars Refuse to Fly.

Absolem has finally started his great transformation. He will soon* become a gorgeous butterfly. Yep, you know that this means. He’ll finally have wings.

I bet you can guess what’s coming next. Caterpillars in cocoons are notoriously vulnerable. Other bugs find them to be incredibly tasty, especially when they’ve spent ages hurling insults down on anyone unfortunate enough to come anywhere near them.

Oh, yeah. That’s your problem now!

So, get out there and start cracking those skulls. It’s your job to keep this guy alive. If he dies, you fail the quest! If you fail the quest, you’ll never get out of here alive!

Now that’s what I call entertainment!

*Soon is a relative term. Prepare yourself. This is probably going to take a while.

The mobs were coming faster now, so I didn’t have time to be bothered by the ridiculousness of the system message. I suspected, as each wave advanced, it was only going to get worse.

My Woodland Chakrams hummed through the air, slicing through the nearest slug with relative ease before returning to my outstretched hands. Mucus splattered against my already grime and blood-covered armor. The mob toppled, slurping into two lifeless halves just as an ant lunged.

“Oh, no you don’t,” I yelled, grappling with the formic’s clenching mandibles.

A strange hissing sound came from the bug.

This was new.

Before I could react, a stream of liquid splashed across my neck. It smelled of vinegar and burned like fire. It wasn’t as bad as when I’d consumed the spider milk, but I cried out in pain, nonetheless.

You cast Juncus’ Respite.

Your burns have lessened.

You are now less susceptible to both acid and burn attacks.

You are temporarily protected by Thorns.

While this spell remains in effect, a small percentage of damage may be reflected back on unsuspecting attackers.

Using the force of my backward momentum, I tucked my wings and jerked the ant with me, rolling onto my back as I went. Then I kicked out in one fluid motion. The move flung the creature up and over just as I’d seen in movies thousands of times. The ant sailed through the air and crashed into the broad trunk of a very large tree. It hit with a dull, crunching thud.

I couldn’t believe it actually worked.

“Eat your heart out, John Wick,” I grumbled.

Despite making me smile, the joke did little to lighten the mood. Another two Burrower Ants exploded from the ground like cannonballs. They unfurled as one, with their mandibles clacking. Meanwhile, an Ambusher Slug fell from the heavens. It splotched at my feet, flattening as it landed, and then slowly took shape.

“Hurry it up, Absolem,” I shouted toward the cocoon. “I can’t keep this up forever, you know.”

The cocoon was unsurprisingly unresponsive. The leathery exterior of the green skin sucked in and out like some kind of leafy lung.

One of the ants lunged at my injured leg while the slug continued to take shape. I fluttered my wings and danced to the side, narrowly missing the gnashing mandibles of the other ant.

With just enough space to maneuver, I flung my chakrams as hard as I could. They both sailed true and hit their marks with deadly precision. The slug’s partially re-inflated head oozed to the side. What remained of the furthest ant, the first one of this batch to attack, clawed at the ground in a feeble attempt to reunite with the second half of its severed thorax.

I caught the circular blades on their return flight and hammered the razor-sharp edges through the antennas and into the head of the second ant. Its mandibles twitched and it let out a horrible sound before collapsing at my feet. A quick jerk of the weapons freed the blades, and I prepared myself for the next incoming wave.

Three slugs were up next, falling around me like soggy rocks from the sky. These recovered much quicker than the ones I’d seen before. They looked different, too. They appeared to be growing a sort of thick, fleshy armor. These sections were darker in color and pocked with circular indentations that gave the distinct impression they could shoot out projectiles or gelatinous spikes.

You Inspect the Siege Slug.

Level 32.

HP 1,900 / 1,900.

Warning! This mob is incredibly friendly.

Something tells me you always wanted a pet. Hamsters are so 1990s, girl. These days, slugs are all the rage. Aww, look! It wants to eat you.

Isn’t that cute?

I flew upward just as spikes from all three mobs jutted toward me, cutting through the air with the surround sound of a slurp in reverse. Another two ants rushed forward, eager to join the fray.

“Absolem,” I shouted. “Stop messing around. These things are getting harder, and if I die, you’re going to be next.”