“Break is over in five minutes,” Pokora announced, walking over the small, impromptu camp the group had built. “Relieve yourselves and store your things.”
One by one, the party members stood up while tidying up.
Natasha, who still was straddling Yolin's lap, slowly stood up as well, offering the Oni a hand.
The tank took the hand offered to her, smiling when the Warrior lifted her up.
Pokora approached them and inspected Natasha's face, raising both eyebrows when the two met eyes. “Your eyes are all fucked up,” she pointed out with concern.
“Mhm,” the Halve replied with an absent nod, eyes like a rave's lightshow when a sick drops comes on.
The Archer turned to the tank, showing a concerned expression.
Yolin shrugged. “I don't see how it'd be a problem. You know... fighting and drugs,” she commented.
Pokora nodded, then sighed. She rubbed her forehead and bit her lower lip. “How are you feeling?” she asked the Warrior.
The golden woman stared at the snow-white Elf for a few seconds. “I am fine, thank you. How about you?” she replied with a smile.
“Good,” the Archer answered. “Let's get going.”
Natasha and Yolin nodded and walked off.
The Warrior went off towards the dungeon wall, following something only she could sense.
Yolin walked behind her, trying to discern the trail the Halve was after.
E'er felt as thick as it was everywhere else in the dungeon, bringing memories of steam-filled baths and the first time she tried swimming in lava, the air dense with smoke and dangerous vapors. E'er was much gentler, though. With every breath she absorbed as much magical energy as she could, just like she and everyone else had been doing from the moment they set foot in the E'er-packed environment. Just as was customary when delving such places full of dangers.
Yolin wondered how the world would look like if she could see E'er the way Natasha described, with eyes lighting up in different colors whenever a spell or skill was activated, the smell of enchantments, the very flow of it in the air next to her, the waves it made when it was given purpose, and the shapes it formed when pooling or gathering in nature.
Would it be similar to fog? Was it another sense altogether? Just the ability to sense it would make a massive difference, but then again, that might just be one of the many things that make Halves Higher Beings.
Is it the affinity? She thought, sniffing around, keeping an ear out, tasting the air, and even squinting her eyes to see if it would somehow work. Or does E'er only show itself to Halves? Do people with perfect affinity also see the world the way they do? She focused on Natasha, the woman braiding her hair in a tight and thick rope. Do drugs affect it somehow? Lapia said the Elves mentioned the concoction would help her see a higher truth. She ran her tongue over her tusks, curiosity grabbing her further. Is the natural path that way? She questioned, weighing the probable benefits of theoretically consuming such a concoction. A part of her rejected the idea of it, just as it did with the plan of asking Natasha to break her mind with Abyssal. I'll ask Her Divinity Danuva, she concluded and caught up to the Halve in front of her, walking side by side.
----------------------------------------
Five minutes later, the party stood in front of a section of the dungeon wall.
The thing was a solid polished stone with thick pillars every twenty meters. Nothing would indicate there was something of interest on it. If anything, Yolin lost interest in it whenever she focused to try and find something.
That was the flaw, she soon found out. If she hadn't heard of an illusion being there, she'd think it uninteresting and moved on. The forced lack of interest was, in itself, a flaw.
Alyssa's Bey'tu brought no results, either. The animal approached the wall, sniffed, huffed, and left.
“Bonte, Hanna,” Natasha called, looking at the wall. “Come here for a second, please.”
The two Scouts walked closer to her, occupying the empty spots at each side.
Yolin's eyes widened a little and a smile formed on her lips. The illusion had made her move away. A level 949 Cleric Tank. Even though she stood in the top percentage when it came to individual power, she was made to move by something she couldn't percieve on her own.
“Can you sense the illusion right there?” Natasha asked the Scouts, pointing at the wall in front of them.
The two were silent for a moment, probably activating skills to see through illusions.
“No,” Hanna replied after a few seconds. “But the flaw is evident, Your Excellency.”
“Its simplicity makes it powerful, but also obvious to any keen observer,” Bonte supplied. “This is the work of a monster, no doubt.”
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“I agree,” the Ork joined. “Natural illusions are not this... one dimensional. This is not an ambush predator, either.”
The Shadow Chaser gave the Regicide an intrigued look. “To keep the Mind Flayers out?” he inquired with a semblance of disbelief.
The party fell silent.
Symbiotic relations were a staple of dungeons, as covered by Roston Kalamar's Understanding Galeia: Dungeons Delved's second volume. Monsters within an E'er-rich environment would form a hierarchy of mutually benefitial relationships which they'd never break from to ensure the survival of everything, reaching a higher harmony than in the wild outdoors. The ramifications of such when it came to social and civilized introspection were many but not the point of the current circumstances.
For a monster to actively avoid interaction with another within the same dungeon was not unheard of, but exceedingly rare.
The party's silence wasn't one of confusion, but of fear.
Roston Kalamar and his scholar successors archived five introverted monsters that actively avoid contact with other creatures, going as far as physically blocking access to their territory, even with the existence of a gate.
Permechuni, Cahiny'khos, The Wail of the Unliving, The Doubt, and Blood Fiends.
The illusion in front of them confirmed the worst.
Mind Flayers and an introverted monster, Yolin stated the facts in her mind. May the Protector guard us, she prayed with closed eyes.
The hope that there would be no such vile monster was shattered, and deep breaths echoed in the dungeon floor.
“So that's why it reeks of mischeviousness,” Natasha stated with disaproval. “Social interaction is important, you know?” She muttered to the wall. “Give me a second and I'll get rid of this pesky illusion.”
“Wait!” four voices called at the same time.
The Halve turned to one of the voices with a deep scowl.
“Wait,” Elena repeated herself. “There is one absolute way to survive Blood Fiends,” she revealed with a serious expression.
The group waited with held breaths for such knowledge. She had been with two Halves! Of course she'd know how to deal with all manners of monsters and creatures. Even if just a researcher, she must've asked, or heard from her Eternal lovers.
The Faeton Elf gave each member a glance, then uttered. “Do. Not. Engage.”
“Makes sense,” Bromisnar spoke, his voice dead serious.
“An optimal plan of action,” Pokora assured, giving Elena several nods of approval.
“We can come back later when it's an easy win,” Lapia suggested.
“Or not come back at all,” Alyssa offered.
“True,” the Domi Elf agreed with a nod.
“We're mortals, after all,” Bonte argued.
The group found themselves throwing every thinkable excuse to avoid the encounter.
Thelea walked to Natasha and placed a hand on her shoulder. “We're going in, right?” she asked with a half pout.
“Of course we are,” the Halve declared, facing the party. “Right?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Her Excellency Natasha is with us,” Hanna pointed out, giving the woman a look of expectation.
“We have Legendary gear,” Yolin reminded the party. “I doubt many who faced Blood Fiends have had such high level equipment, plus the Elixirs and Scrolls to boost our defenses. I'd say we're overqualified for this.”
A sigh left Natasha, then she walked closer to the wall. “I'm going in,” she announced. “Whoever wants to follow, you're welcome.”
Pokora bit her lower lip, then hung her head. “Let's be extra careful, then,” she muttered.
The party shared anxious looks, except Thelea, Yolin, and Hanna.
The Goliath didn't fear death.
Yolin trusted her own body to protect others.
Hanna had no doubts that Natasha would come out as victor of the encounter.
Slowly, the group assumed formation with Natasha, Thelea, and Yolin at the front. Bonte, Hanna, and Pokora took the middle. Alyssa, Bromisnar, Elena, and Lapia stood at the back.
“Prepare for a long fight,” Pokora spoke up, readying La'khazh, String of the World Tree. “Make sure every wound is healed instantly, Alyssa. Don't let them get a single drop of blood from us.”
“Will do,” the Luzo replied, tightening her tail around Crest of the Redeemer.
“Burn any blood that comes near us, Lapia,” Pokora instructed.
The Domi Elf nodded, grasping Eternal Flame with both hands. “Understood.”
“Natasha, Thelea, and Yolin, stay close to us,” the party leader continued. “If you think something big will happen that you might survive, take them away from us, though. Otherwise keep the front line impenetrable.”
“Aha,” Natasha uttered in confirmation, producing her Alma Pike along with the Starforged Eternium Aspis.
Yolin nodded, balled her hands and bumped the Raging Fists of Thunderous Claps together.
“Will try,” the Goliath chuckled excitedly, still being lower level compared to the party even after the recent spike in power. She placed the Shield of the Cruel Onslaught in front of her, and placed the Sword of the Cruel Onslaught above of it, ready to stab at anything that came too close.
“Blind them if they have eyes, Bonte,” the Elmari Elf kept going. “If you see any opportunity to strike, take full advantage of it.”
“Of course,” the Tigea complied, handling his Throat Cutters.
“Same to you, Hanna,” she turned to the Ork and gave her a nod. “Confuse them with illusions if you can.”
“As you command,” the Regicide answered, taking a stance with both Venom Fangs, both charged with Hemotoxin.
Pokora gave Elena a smile. “Do you need time to prepare a Swarm?”
The ancient Elf raised both eyebrows. “I doubt they'll be of much help,” she replied, resting Khepri's Was-Scepter on her right shoulder. “My other Classess with be more useful, though.”
After a nod, the Archer focused on the Performer.
The Satyr waited for his instructions.
“Make it epic,” she told him.
A smile formed on the man's face. “Quite a tall order, but I will try,” he answered and produced an instrument that had strings and pipes to let air through.
“We're ready, Natasha,” Pokora informed her. “Go for it.”
The Halve nodded, took a deep breath, and spoke, “Ǹ̴̙̣̥̺a̷͙̎͌̾͊k̴̢͓͔͔̇͝e̴̡͎̬͔̲̊r̵̞̎ ̴̳͛̉̂̂̓v̵̨̹̳̳͑͆͝a̸̡̛̭̠̹͛̑̀̚ṣ̷̨̫̙̜̈́̄͌̿s̸͕͓̼̰͌”
Everyone winced, feeling like a slimy and rotted finger entered their ear canals.
The section of the wall in front of them shimmered, then vanished, revealing a staircase going down.