The horny, rabid snakes paused in mid-air, their mating instincts forgotten as they hovered, flapping their wings and peering down at Logan. Their red eyes glinted with malevolence, their fangs gnashing. An abrupt change from a snake swarm dominated by hormones to a swarm that wanted to commit murder was jarring. It was as if Logan had just stepped on their nests.
The swarm was so large that it blotted out the sun, making an already dim, smog saturated sky darken like an eclipse. Ernie’s assertation that he wanted two hundred minions had seemed ridiculous on the face of it, but there were too many snakes to count. Way more than two hundred. More continued to pour in and slam into the swarm. These new snakes were focused on mating, but as soon as they followed the gazes of the other snakes and saw Logan, his [Eager Beaver] title swept away everything but rage.
Logan curled his lip, his muscles tightening in anticipation. However, he wasn’t so far gone that he was blind to the risks. Not to Logan, but to Ernie.
Ernie was level 65, and these snakes were level 55 to 65. Ernie had an advantage with his minions, but they were underwater creatures at the bottom of the lake. As far as Logan knew, Ernie didn’t have any minions who had the ability to fly. That meant he would be fighting using his tentacles and nothing else. Fighting hundreds of monsters that were close to his own level.
In a normal situation, Logan would say that someone his own level, level 95, would have difficulty fighting against hundreds of level 60 monsters, but Logan had to believe that he wasn’t like normal users. Not after the trial dungeon. Not after leveling up his physical attributes and then tripling them with the True Grit Rings. Although Logan’s grade was F9, he was convinced that to get the attributes he had now, he’d be well into E Grade. Well into it.
That meant that although the snakes had overwhelming numbers, it would be like someone who was level 100 fighting a hundred level 5 monsters.
It was nothing.
Best of all, it didn’t matter if his attributes were out of whack. To the System, he was level 95, which meant that it was possible that he could level up to a massive degree.
But Ernie didn’t have the same advantages.
There was a degree of risk here that he didn’t like.
“Ernie,” said Logan, keeping a careful eye on the swarm. Instead of crashing into each other, they were flocking together, like birds in a migratory pattern. They were getting ready to strike. Strike all at once. “Crawl down my back to the ground for a minute.”
Ernie didn’t argue, but once he jumped off Logan’s back, he surveyed the area with an eager bob of his head and then gave Logan a confused look. The ground was flat and covered in long rattlesnake grass. “What is it?” he said, his eyes eager. “Something to slaughter?”
“Hold on.”
In a flash, Logan willed out a large bucket of sand. He’d replenished his supply back on the shore. Ernie wasn’t going to like this, but it was the only way to make sure he stayed safe. With a moue of concentration, Logan furrowed his brow and latched onto the sand, forcing it to fly towards his back. If he could form ten-inch-long talons at the drop of a hat, this should be nothing.
Sand grain after sand grain, he formed a backpack sized pouch, something large enough for Ernie to retreat to if necessary. It was difficult to do it without a direct line of sight, and without [Life Cycle Master] his senses were blunted like looking through foggy glass, but [Mimicry Armour] powered most of the crafting.
Sculpting the edges, he made the layer thick, so thick that the snakes’ fangs shouldn’t pierce through. At the top of the pouch, he sculpted a curved ledge, something that was flexible so that Ernie could duck through while having cover.
It was a bulky thing, and his agility would take a hit, but it was the same as wearing a backpack while running or hiking. He’d manage.
“There. It’s ready. Check out my back.”
The snakes were looping, getting closer. Soon, they’d be out of time.
Ernie slimed over to peer up at Logan’s back.
There was a weighted pause.
“Logan,” he said, danger in his voice. “Are you expecting me to hide? Like an octopus in distress? A weakling?”
Logan winced. “Er.”
Ernie huffed, puffing up like an offended cat. “Like an octopus that doesn’t rival all? That doesn’t have over 50 minions?”
Shit, he was running out of time.
“No, not hide,” he wheedled. “Lie in wait!”
Ernie paused and gave him a narrow-eyed look.
“If you’re on my back, they’ll see you. They’ll know to expect you. But if you disguise yourself and take on the colors of the pack, you can dart out, grab a snake and lure it in and add it to your minion army. That would be difficult to do if they’re swarming down and taking chunks of your flesh. This way, you can be stealthy. Be smart. Just like you told me.”
Ernie’s mouth opened. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing! But… mmh.” His eyes grew avaricious with greed. “It is a stealthy strategy. Like the power behind the empire! The person that pulls the puppet’s strings! They’ll never know I’m there while I pummel them to death! Then we’ll grab one after another and add them to my army!”
Logan held back a sigh of relief. They were out of time. “Then tuck in there. You hide—er, stealthily lie in wait—while I—”
While he’d been talking, one of the snakes had darted down in a dive-bomb, going directly for his face. If Logan hadn’t reformed his facemask, the thing could have taken a bite out of his cheek!
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Motherf—
His rage surging, Logan flicked his wrist and slashed it with his talons, decapitating the thing with a spray of green blood. It was as easy as slicing butter.
The body slammed to the ground. The head went flying and crashed against the side of the rock face before ricochetting into the lake with a plop.
Ding!
[You have defeated a Level 60 Flying Hunting Snake!]
“Ooooh.” Ernie made a sound of awe and then clambered onto Logan’s back as if his tentacles were on fire. Disguising himself, he mirrored the colors of his new pouch, turning a light beige. “Logan grew strong!”
The Cursed Rope flexed around his arm, its size only half inflated. In its swollen version, it would be too large to fit. Glee glee glee. Time for carnage? Time for blood?
Logan waited until Ernie scooted into his back pouch before responding.
You can go free, he sent to the rope. It’s time for blood. It’s time for revenge.
Glee glee glee. With a snap, the rope unfurled from around his arm, blue electricity crackling. Swelling in size, it ballooned to its serpent form, its gaping wide mouth coated in dripping acid. Two dark divots on the top of its head that looked like the beginnings of eyes flashed. With a crack, a bolt of electricity thundered through the air.
The rope flew towards the snake swarm like a jet engine, slamming into the mass, sending a feeling of euphoria and joy Logan’s way. Glee glee glee. A smorgasbord! Fuel for my endless carnage of blood.
Logan scrunched his nose. How had he ended up with a bonded octopus and a rope that might as well be using the same script? He was surrounded by gleeful, murderous things.
“Hold on,” Logan said to Ernie. Crouching in a squat, his upper thighs knotted in tension, Logan looked up at the snakes. They were circling around the island like a swarm of locusts. A mass of snakes that ate up the sky, casting a shadow on the rattlesnake grass and ruining everything.
Fuckers thought they could take over his island? This was the island his grandfather had taken him to! He’d loved to fish here! They were ruining a childhood memory! Taunting him with their presence! Invasive plague.
They were going to pay.
Grinding his teeth, Logan envisioned himself launching into the air and leaping for the sky. Just like that, his Pink Sock-clad foot hurtled him forward. The air rushing by, Logan travelled for thirty feet and then slammed into the snake swarm, slashing his ten-inch-long talons, slicing head after head, tail after tail, then rolling into a somersault and slashing again on the way down to the ground.
[You have defeated a Level 59 Flying Hunting Snake!]
[You have defeated a Level 62 Flying Hunting Snake!]
[You have defeated a Level 59 Flying Hunting Snake!]
[….]
[You have defeated a Level 60 Flying Hunting Snake!]
The swarm made a bullhorn bugle, and every single snake reformed into a stream of gnashing mouths that flew at him in a circle, hundreds surrounding him on all sides.
Logan laughed.
Just what he needed.
He hurtled back into the swarm, skyrocketing straight towards the sun. He tore through the snakes on the way past, slashing wings and scales as he went.
Underneath him, there were so many that there had to be a hundred. With a laugh of euphoria, Logan let himself drop and then jumped from the top of a snake head and envisioned his Pink Sock hurtling him to the left. It launched him into the swarm like a bowling ball plowing down bowling pins.
To the right, the Cursed Rope crackled through the air, snatching a snake by its neck and shaking it from side to side like a crocodile before its drooling acid mouth ate through its flesh and decapitated its head cleanly. Glee glee glee.
With a crack of lightening, the rope slammed into the next snake, its mouth snatching onto a wing and hurtling it around like a wet noodle. With another crack, it slammed forward and curled around it like a boa constrictor. The flying snake was five feet in length, but the Cursed Rope was larger. It was like an anaconda fighting a garden snake.
There was no contest.
Ding!
[You have defeated a Level 62 Flying Hunting Snake!]
[You have defeated a Level 58 Flying Hunting Snake!]
[You have defeated a Level 62 Flying Hunting Snake!]
[You have defeated a Level 58 Flying Hunting Snake!]
[….]
[You have leveled up!]
“Ooooh, I’ve got this one!” Ernie sprung, his tentacles bursting out of the pouch and latching onto a snake that flew past. Rather than crushing it into a pulp, Ernie… did something. Tiny filaments like spiderwebs leached from his suction cups, seeping into the snake as if he were injecting a syringe. The snake struggled at first, but then froze, its eyes widening and pupils dilating into pins.
It must be a paralyzing agent.
Like flipping a switch, as Ernie’s filaments spread into the snake, it turned from vibrant green to pale as death, its skin leached of vitality. Its green eyes grew murky, milky-white, pupils no longer dilating.
There were no pupils at all.
With an excited squee, Ernie released it, his tentacles darting through the air in a dance as he tried to grab onto more snakes. “Minion! Minion minion!”
Instead of rejoining the swarm, the snake shook itself and then with a flap of its wings, turned on its brethren, snapping at the nearest snake and tearing into its throat.
Ernie had made another minion.
Ding!
[Your bonded companion’s minion has defeated a Level 58 Flying Hunting Snake!]
Damn. Ernie could unleash his minions, let them kill and then benefit from the XP. That minion skill was turning into a huge benefit. On top of that, now that Logan was higher leveled than Ernie, the System wasn’t reducing the XP sharing. He’d receive the full benefit of every kill.
Logan grinned and let out an exuberant shout. Slashing with his talons, he jumped on the back of another snake, using the Pink Sock to hurtle him to the right, then jumped on another, hurtling to the left. Slash after slash, green blood spraying his armour, he killed so many that he might as well be pushing them through a meat grinder.
Ding!
[You have defeated a Level 62 Flying Hunting Snake!]
[You have defeated a Level 58 Flying Hunting Snake!]
[….]
[You have defeated a Level 62 Flying Hunting Snake!]
[You have defeated a Level 58 Flying Hunting Snake!]
[You have leveled up!]
[You have leveled up!]
The euphoria of the level increases only fueled his rage. These things were going to pay. They would pay. They would pay. They would pay!
But the snakes were starting to get wary. They weren’t mindless. Even though his [Eager Beaver] title had triggered them, they knew he was tearing through them like paper.
They bugled again, reforming into a mass and looping around Logan and then away. Without another snake to jump onto, he couldn’t keep his momentum going. It was one thing to use visualization while underwater, and another thing to use it while you were airborne.
Logan plummeted to the ground like a rocket. His boots slammed into the dirt and created a crater underneath his feet with an ear-ringing, percussion sound.
Logan growled. “Is that all you’ve got!” he screamed.
And then something happened.
As if his slam to the ground had triggered an earthquake, the island shook. It was all he could do to not fall over. The whole island was shaking! In front of him, a crack widened, widened, widened, and kept widening. It had to be fifteen feet in width and opened to the darkness below.
It was like looking into an endless chasm.
And inside the bottomless crack, a mass of flesh crawled out of the hole.