Chapter 20 — The Giant Tentacle Terror

“Go get Yillian, Alennil!” Xyn called back to the diviner. “We’re going to need his fire magic!”

With wide eyes and a nod of agreement the former(?) cultist took off at a run.

In his view and having removed enough limbs to get close, Ayla bisected the tangleweed she was fighting. Xyn turned his attention back to the approaching monstrosity. Its forward progress slowed when it could no longer use the trees to pull itself forward.

“Can we even kill something like that?” Ayla asked as she stopped beside him, sword at the ready.

“Maybe,” Xyn hedged. “I’m not really suited for fighting such things. My techniques won’t work on it.”

Ayla seemed to take Xyn’s statement as a challenge. “So, we have to hold off the smaller ones and keep the big one distracted long enough for Yillian to finish it off?”

Yep. That was the gist of it. Xyn nodded and Petal-stepped forward, again using his aura to attract the attention of the smaller tangleweeds—that really weren’t all that small. Each was as large as he was!

A thick tentacle whipped out from the monstrosity, catching Xyn with its surprising speed. The force behind the limb was stronger than he could successfully redirect with Love’s Blossom, and with an ‘oof’, he was flung backwards to crash into the tall grass.

Logically, larger things should move slower, but that didn’t seem to be the case here. The dense aura pulsing within the plant and puppeteering its limbs was likely the reason why.

Thankfully, Xyn had turned away the sharp end of the limb enough not to get pierced, but his ribs still hurt from the impact. Not wanting to become an easy target, he was back on his feet and leaping away to avoid a follow-up before having fully recovered from the strike.

When a second limb struck out, instead of redirecting it, Xyn Petal-stepped into the air and ran along it toward the main body, using the impacts of his feet to impart Rippling Strikes into the limb. Each step added to a building wave of reversed sap-flow heading back into the main trunk of ravening maws.

More limbs shot out and Xyn skipped above each as they came, repeating the process. When the wave of pressure slammed into the trunk, a portion of the maws and limbs quivered uncontrollably.

Xyn used the time bought to draw his sword and sever several of the limbs before more limbs were brought to bear in mass, forcing him to frantically retreat out of reach.

A quick glance in Ayla’s direction showed that she had dealt with a limb strike by splitting it in half with her sword and aura only to be showered with a fountain of pressurized sap. Further flurries of smaller limbs forced her to retreat as she dodged and slashed the tips off each with rapid flicks of her narrow blade. The cut limbs spurted sap from their ends and lost some of their vigor, still dangerous from their size and weight but lacking the violent speed of the initial strikes.

The faster Xyn-sized tangleweeds began to catch up with Xyn’s strategic retreat and their attacks allowed him to explode them with Rippling Strikes. But even partially exploded, they continued to writhe and advance, his Rippling Strikes made less effective by the release of sap-pressure.

As his retreat drew him too close to the forest, a pack of tentacle hounds rushed out with roots shaped like a wolves’ limbs, tautly twisting like sinew and muscle, and a large-mawed tangleweed for a head.

Xyn quickly Petal-stepped into the midst of the new threat, dodging vines, exploding and slashing them as the opportunity presented.

If he could use his new Void insights to make himself like mist and his sword insubstantial except where he wanted to cut, this fight would be much easier, but he didn’t dare risk it.

A surprised scream from Ayla’s direction drew Xyn’s attention, and he saw Ayla dangling by her foot as a long root held her aloft. Fearing he might be too late, Xyn Petal-stepped to aid her, watching in horror as limbs were rapidly brought into position and shot out to impale the now immobile target.

Somehow, using brute force of aura, Ayla’s defensive sword strikes deflected the first two limbs enough to only cause minor cuts in the time it took him to arrive, but they were already bending to wrap around her. Three quick aura-laden cuts freed Ayla as he flew by. He Petal-stepped in a gust of wind that changed his direction in time to catch her as she fell, carrying her away from the battle, just as a fireball exploded into the building-sized tangleweed.

When he came to a stop behind where Yillian was preparing another large spell, Xyn looked down at Ayla to make sure she wasn’t seriously injured. Her bodice had been torn in two places and there were cuts visible on her arms and the leg grabbed by the root, but the sap clinging to her seemed to be helping slow any bleeding.

“Thanks…,” she said with some embarrassment as she looked up at him then looked away with red cheeks.

Seeing she was okay, Xyn set her down, his heart was still beating fiercely at how close her rescue had been. “Thankfully, I made it in time. Rest here for a minute or two. Yillian can give you some ointment for the cuts later.”

“Ah, okay.”

Xyn didn’t have time to say more; the remaining tentacle hounds were rushing Yillian and Alennil’s position.

Petal-stepping again, he gusted past the pair, slashing and Ripple Striking at the lead tentacle hound just as Yillian let fly another large ball of fire at the giant tentacle horror also advancing on their position.

A quick glance as he changed targets to another tentacle hound showed the giant tangleweed blackened in places and moving with less vigor as steam rose into the air from it, smelling vaguely of cooked vegetables.

A less impressive fire shot out from Alennil to finish off the tentacle hound Xyn had left wounded. More confident that Alennil would be able to keep Yillian safe as he finished off the main threat, Xyn focused more on disabling the remaining tangleweeds and tentacle hounds rather than completely finishing them off.

Once Ayla was back in the fight, the remaining threats were steadily dealt with until a strained quiet lay over the scene of the battle, an occasional gloop or simmering pop coming from the giant mound of cooked horror.

“The mire wasn’t this dangerous the time I went with them to retrieve the Remnants,” Alennil volunteered, his brows creasing.

“I can’t see my cousin setting up a teleport in such a dangerous location either,” Ayla agreed. She was rubbing the wound ointment onto her cuts, and grimacing as Yillian was stitching up a deeper one. Removing the sap from her and her clothing had taken both Xyn’s Mist aura and Yillian’s cleaning magic.

“Yillian needs to gather ingredients, and I’m thinking we should probably clear at least the immediate area if we’re going to safely get any sleep before teleporting elsewhere.” Xyn looked over to Yillian and received a nod in agreement. “Yillian and I have traveled the mire before and can go alone.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Ayla shook her head. “No, I’d rather not split up.”

Alennil seemed to agree with that sentiment.

Clearing the area took much of the night, and dawn was beginning to break by the time they returned to the tower to sleep, agreeing to alternate watch shifts. The encountered tangleweeds and variants were mostly larger and more frequent than usual but no other extremely large ones made an appearance. Oddly, Alennil’s divination indicated that there wasn’t a Remnant nearby.

During his watch shift, Xyn worked on clearing away the rubble from the cellar trapdoor. Between the large stone blocks and rotted timber, the work required him to augment his strength with aura. His ‘cat-kin’ form was more agile than his Kyrren body but lacked the explosive strength he had developed over almost a decade of harsh physical conditioning.

That didn’t mean his ‘cat-kin’ form was weak. He was still taller and likely stronger than most humans. His previous strength would just have been welcome for tasks like this. Now that he had more experience against people, animals, and monsters trying to kill him, he was certain that agility was more important for survival.

The simplicity of the work, washing away the accumulated soil and clearing the rubble one large piece at a time, did allow him to reflect on and internalize his realizations since leaving Severing Downs. Tantalizing inspirations for new techniques and improvements on his existing ones teased at the precipice of realization, but he would still need a whole day or more devoted to such tasks to achieve a significant breakthrough, and traveling with others wasn’t really conducive for that.

As morning was drawing to a close and the sun was beginning to peak over the tower’s jagged wall, Xyn reached the moment of reward for his efforts, having completely exposed the wood planks that formed the door’s surface.

After sending out his aura to make sure no threats were sneaking up on them, Xyn returned his attention to the door. He had carefully cleaned the hinges and the wood was in much better shape than he was expecting. Grabbing hold of the pull ring, he gradually increased his effort until the door began to swing upward with a creak of protesting ancient wood and metal.

Yillian was the only of his companions to wake, bolting upright and quickly looking around before spotting Xyn and the open trapdoor. Having realized the source of the noise, the half-elf groaned and looked up at the sky. “You are one stubborn cat. You know that, Xyn?”

“Heh, suppose so,” Xyn agreed, but the unpleasant smell of dust and rot wafting up from the opening was giving him a feeling that the effort might not be wasted this time. “Want to take over the watch for me?”

“Might as well. I’m awake now.”

Xyn used aura to freshen the cellar air before descending the ladder to the room below—only to be greeted by a desiccated corpse.

It wasn’t the only one in the room. Others were slumped over the remains of a table or on the floor like the one at the base of the ladder. Two were collapsed in a position suggesting they had been sitting against the wall when they died. Maybe the air went bad after the rubble covered the door…

A quick scan with his aura showed his optimism had been rewarded. The corpse at the table wearing better armor than the others had a sword and ring that were both enchanted. The enchantments felt faded, but Xyn suspected that Yillian would be able to restore them.

After carefully collecting the sword, ring, and the dead soldier’s metal coins, Xyn triumphantly exited the cellar, feeling like a youth having succeeded at a treasure hunt. Yillian’s surprised eyebrow raise was particularly satisfying.

“You actually found something…”

“Yep.” Xyn smugly grinned as he handed over the sword and ring.

“You sure?” Yillian eyed him like there was a catch.

“Yup. I already have a sword, and the ring will probably be more useful to you. You can owe me or something.”

“Why would I need a sword…” Yillian started then let out a groan.

Xyn couldn’t help chuckling. The leather parts of the sword’s sheath and belt would need restoring and eventually replacing, but Xyn was confident that Yillian could handle that. The blade itself was nice, likely enchanted for sharpness and durability, but Xyn’s Elven Moonsteel blade was much better.

Yillian shrugged. “Thanks.”

“Sure, no problem.”

“I’m almost done with the modifications to the teleport circle, and I was able to collect enough blood from Ayla earlier to complete the modifications of the other three circles, should we need to,” Yillian updated him. “You going to get some sleep?”

Xyn nodded. “Yeah, after I go through the other cult guy’s stuff.”

Maybe even a ‘cat nap’, Xyn mused to himself.

Carrying two packs wasn’t convenient, and he might as well transfer over whatever they wanted to keep. There was also the book from Alennil that Ayla told him to read… he was interested, but he’d probably get to that after napping.

The chaos worshiper’s pack was mostly filled with clothing and travel supplies like Alennil’s had been. A few of the items did stand out though. In particular, a book of strange riddles and a round black gemstone.

The light passed through the gemstone strangely giving the impression of a cloud of swirling stars within that changed depending on the angle of the light. Xyn imagined that the effect would be particularly interesting if the source of light were in motion, such as a flame.

When he probed the black stone with his aura, the stone reminded him a lot of the mist beyond the world’s boundary, but instead of Creation, the stone felt like it embodied the concept of Possibility. The difference was interesting, and Xyn was sure the stone would be helpful to him.

There was also an odd… karmic weight to the stone. Xyn wasn’t sure what to make of that. Did Priests of Chaos deal in matters of fate? Maybe reading through the book of riddles later might provide some answers… or more questions.

The priest's writing supplies were also welcome, since such things tended to be expensive.

The only other items of note were potion bladders labeled: ‘For treatment of minor wounds.’; ‘For relief from insect and snake venoms’; ‘For restoration of vigor.’; and ‘For slowing of bleeding.’

Such potions were the familiar set that Kerra would regularly recommend to anyone setting out to hunt near the mire.

The last item of interest was an ornate silver key. What it went to Xyn had no idea. No, that wasn’t entirely true. It was too small to unlock a door or large chest.

Task accomplished, Xyn slaked his thirst with herb-water and appeased his hunger with some meat and cheese. Feeling satisfied, he curled up and slept until the smell of fresh blood woke him.

Sniffing, he cracked an eye, waiting for it to adjust to the bright sunlight warming the interior of the tower from directly above.

He was alone in the tower and squelching sounds drifted in on the wind from outside. Worry roused his mind awake, but a scan outside the tower with his aura showed his fears to be unfounded.

Ayla must have gone on a hunt, and Yillian was helping butcher the kills. Alennil was sitting against the tower, likely reading a book judging by his posture.

Looking up at the sky and the sun clearly in view, probably two hours or so had passed.

Xyn hadn’t had much time to be alone since meeting up with Yillian. He debated whether he should meditate or maybe read Alennil’s book. Pulling out the book, he looked over the title, ‘The Wayward Prince Samples the Roses.’ Xyn raised his eyebrow in confusion. Was it a book on floral teas? His grandmother did stress the importance of setting the mood for meetings and seemed to like using scented teas. Was that where he was going wrong?

Setting Alennil’s book aside, Xyn pulled out the strange book of riddles, flipping to the first one:

> In the beginning was chaos,

> And from the chaos sprung creation.

> From creation came life.

> Life gave birth to struggle.

> Struggle rewarded strength.

> Strength brought about competition.

> Through competition worth is assessed.

>

>

> Strength through change is growth.

> Strength without change is stagnant.

> Change without growth is weakness.

> Weakness and stagnation are defeated by growth.

The two paragraphs felt like a lecture from his grandmother—the kind that left him wondering if he was supposed to realize something important. Shrugging, he set that book aside as well and settled on meditation.

After a hearty afternoon soup prepared by Yillian and a test of the teleport circle, Ayla suggested they try the beacon in the direction of the seacoast next, leaving the two beacons near the capital for last.

With everyone in agreement, the group gathered in the circle and Yillian again activated the magic.

When the surroundings changed, this time they found themselves inside a house. The circle had been carved into the wood floor of a room setup like a study, with a workdesk and bookshelves. A table with alchemy apparatuses occupied the space near an open window. The breeze through the window carried the smell of brine and sun-baked sand.

“Fenton?” a voice called from the open door. “You’ve been away so long that I was becoming worried…”

Standing in the doorway was a human female around Ayla’s age, holding a baby with dark hair.

“W-who…?” The female held the child protectively, her brow creasing and her eyes darting between the suddenly gathered strangers. “..where’s Fenton?”