Part 5
Pain. Agonizing pain. The horror of having your own body torn apart from within, all with the perpetrator perched precariously on top of your shoulder, where one can do little about it.
Well, at least that’s how it played out in Drake’s mind.
It was a situation not too dissimilar from Yami’s own attack against the Wyvern all those weeks ago. An almost tortuous attack, meant to incapacitate the one who was put under the burden of Drake’s mana almost immediately, through a continuous snaking of sharpened crystal mana to every vital organ in the body. If anything, it was meant as a final trump card, given the extreme conditions that it required, both in proximity to the target, and the brutality it inflicted. However, unlike the Wyvern, the Troll’s response was all too different.
In a sudden snapping motion, the troll’s arm lunged to Drake’s position. Through sheer speed and a bit of luck, Drake released the tip of his mana from himself in time. In a hurried, lurching motion, Drake leapt off the creature’s shoulders, only for the troll to turn to Drake a moment after, a murderous look in its eyes.
“You’re kidding,” Drake cursed.
An attack that had practically killed the wyvern the moment Drake’s mana had entered its body, was simply shrugged off. No… it was if the attack never registered in the first place.
The small holes made in the Troll’s shoulders from his claws were out of sight, but the horrific sound coming from inside the creature’s body was more than clear to Drake’s ears. A muffled, crunching sound, almost as if someone was crushing glass. Then, came the pieces. Small, red shards leaked out of the Troll’s body. Piece, by piece.
Such a sight almost left him wondering if the attack worked properly in the first place. A second later however, and that thought was already far from his mind. It was simply a monster that replaced an iron defense with frightening regeneration. A problem, given Drake’s typical style of attack.
“So, this is the famous regenerative powers that made Troll’s the bane of my existence in more than a few games,” Drake sneered.
Frankly speaking, this level of regeneration almost bordered on overpowered. Pinpoint attacks might as well be useless. He had his doubts on whether even shooting a spike through the thing’s head would be enough to kill it. Well, at least it lived up to his imagination.
“You… You’re presence from above. Newcomer.” The Troll’s eyes flared with rage. Every creature who respected their own lives noticed that a new source of power had appeared in the cavernous dungeon not too long ago. Still, respecting and fearing were two entirely different concepts for a Troll. That only now Drake appeared in front of him, when he was so close to claiming his prize was enough to infuriate the creature.
“I kill you!” The Troll’s lips curled, and it charged towards him, both hands outstretched.
“No holding back, then,” Drake breathed. “Time to skip to the main course.”
In a sudden move, Drake threw his hand forward, as a blast of crimson mana poured forth. It surged towards the Troll almost instantaneously, making the creature pause, thinking it had been caught. Only, the mana itself was different.
It emerged from Drake’s right hand, the mana itself taking a strange form. Unlike the waves of mana that Drake so often used to overwhelm his opponents with brute force, it emerged as a stream, almost semi-focused. It was reminiscent of the Draconian, during the brief moment when his mana had taken the form of the beast, and overpowered Gwyndolyn. As it reached the Troll, it seemed unstable, even as the sudden force from his mana staggered the massive creature back. It gave Drake only a brief reprieve however, before the Troll lunged forward again, through the wave of deadly mana.
“Not refined enough…” Drake scowled, before retreating backwards, into the forest. “Dammit, and the side effects don’t seem to do a thing.”
Overpowering the Troll with standard mana wouldn’t be possible, that was all too clear from his failure in killing it outright in their first exchange. The draining effect of his mana that typically turned anything into a shriveled corpse was ineffective against a creature with so much lifeforce.
Rather, it could be that his demonic mana was ineffective due to the creature living in the dungeon itself. Whatever the case, it was all too obvious that it would have to be a creature he had some control over, before killing it.
Trapping a creature in place, so he could wear its defensive abilities down. He had only been able to succeed with such a tactic once before, and that was only with a wealth of his demonic mana surrounding the battlefield with the wyvern. His mana may have become more potent, but his control still suffered. He couldn’t replicate that here, especially in such a place where the mana was weakened so greatly.
“Simply completing my core wasn’t enough to get it to work… so it’s not a problem with the strength.” Drake mused to himself.
Truthfully, that attack was nothing more than an idea that he had been testing. An attack that he could control intimately, one that was physical, almost an extension of himself. He had achieved a loose form of it, when he plummeted down the exterior of the staircase, but it still wasn’t good enough. Still, despite what experiments he was performing on the creature, at least he didn’t have to worry about the Troll suddenly turning away from him.
The saying, “Keep your eyes on the Prize,” seemed apt, given the Troll’s almost fanatical rage, but it suited him just fine. He had an opponent he could attack without any guilt, and one that he could fight almost indefinitely. It would have been the greatest test subject he could imagine, if only he had someone like Peter with him as well.
Now that I think about it, maybe I can just take its head back or something. Maybe it’ll grow back a body, and I can do this all over again. He needs a good fight, after all. He remarked playfully with a smile.
Dodging a wild fist, Drake clenched his claws, and lunged towards the Troll with a roar of his own, his fist gloved in his mana. Dashing past the Troll, Drake threw his shoulder forward, clawing out a chunk from the Troll’s side, as it snarled with pain.
It turned to Drake on the spot, and paused, a confident, if pained smile emerging as it looked on. Within seconds, the large gash Drake had left on the creature had healed over, leaving it to simply pat its side, fully healed, as it let out a predatory growl.
“Weak. Not strong enough to kill Troll,” it mocked.
“Tch. Of course, that wouldn’t work.”
A creature that countered even concentrated Greed mana. He couldn’t keep in fighting distance to deal any real damage given the Troll’s size and fighting it from range wasn’t even a real option.
The concept of fighting such a creature until it was exhausted was a plan that even he balked at, and his control suffered too much. Mere exposure to the mana wouldn’t do anything besides maybe fatigue the creature, if that.
He needed… some sort of compromise between the two.
“Heh.” The troll laughed, thinking it had him cornered as it suddenly charged at him again. Reluctantly, Drake retreated further into the tree line, letting the beast break apart trees and clear brush as he racked his brain for any methods he could come up with.
“Maybe…”
In an instant, a crimson gauntlet covered Drake’s arm, leaving the charging Troll with a smirk on its face as it examined the weapon. Both of them knew that his mana wasn’t capable of leaving any lasting damage, so why summon such a weapon that did little more than augment his claws in the first place?
True. His Gauntlets alone wouldn’t make a difference. They were mainly used to give his semi-human form a weapon he was used to but, he wasn’t going to fight with the gauntlets themselves.
Practically speaking, this wasn’t something he would have even thought of a month ago. After all, he tended to fight on an instinctual basis, simply moving the mana he controlled at will. The times he had tried to overthink his fights, he just got overconfident. It was something that had happened again, and again. Especially this last time with Yami…
So, from the moment he emerged from his Trial, he decided that he wanted a power that worked as an extension of himself. No more fine-tuning an ever-extending field of deadly mana, no more worrying about how it would affect those who were unintentionally exposed. Just a weapon. One that was no different from moving his own body. And so…
“This has to be the last piece.”
Flexing his hand, he breathed out, before focusing his mana through his gauntlet. As he did, a solid mass of mana emerged, flowing out from the gauntlet. For a brief moment, it seemed as if the mana would collapse altogether, simply moving apart as his mana typically did. However, just as it began to, something… clicked.
The mana didn’t move apart, it didn’t even flow after him in a stream as he retreated from the Troll. It simply… stayed still, moving in lock-step with him as Drake moved, as if some hidden piece had finally slotted into place. Then, as the Troll ran after him, he noticed with wide-eyed glee that the mana began to shift ever so slightly, eventually spreading apart into a five-digit claw. Moving his arm, he could barely hold in his laughter, as the mana moved in sync with Drake’s movement.
He… he had done it. An imperfect imitation of the fine-tuned control of the Draconian, but powerful nonetheless. More than enough, in fact.
As if it sensed something, the Troll yelled out angrily, in a vain attempt to intimidate him, and get Drake to make a mistake. “Stupid Lizard. You still not better than Troll!”
“Shut up, you dumb creature.”
“…”
Drake couldn’t actually speak with those he didn’t connect to in this dungeon. Understand them, yes, but he was a Draconian, and while it seemed to be some quirk of the Dungeon that all the creatures inside could speak the same language, he wasn’t from the dungeon. It was the same reason he had used telepathy with the Grimal. He was a Draconian. They were simply too different. That said…
The underlying meaning of what Drake said was all too obvious.
Contempt. Annoyance. Despite what Drake thought, it was all too easy for him to fall into the same traps. He was quick to become over-confident, and that resulted in him putting himself in danger again and again. This power he had worked to create however, it was meant to supplement that weakness. To allow him to do what would be impossible before.
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The Troll charged forward without a word, fury in its eyes. It would kill him now. There was no more question in its mind. As for Drake, he merely raised his hand, his form completely still…
And the Troll was stopped, trapped in the crimson mana Drake’s gauntlet had created. Maybe it had expected to charge through it as before. Maybe it hadn’t expected Drake to suddenly connect the last piece in a power that had been in the making ever since he discovered his demonic mana. But… nevertheless, the Troll was trapped in an ever-closing first of Drake’s demonic mana.
The shock was immediate, but the fury in the Troll’s eyes never left.
“I was right… this is what I was missing all along. The same power that left Gwyn completely helpless.” A manic laugh almost overtook him, as he felt the surge of power flow through the gauntlet and onto the helpless Troll.
The Draconian. Despite Drake’s feelings on the matter, it was significantly stronger than him concerning his own body. Whether it had to do with it being the original recipient for his abilities, or just a quirk of the transformation process, it didn’t matter. What did, was that he had copied the same form of mana the Draconian had used. He had done it…
“Ha!” He let out a triumphant laugh, as the troll smoldered in front of him, teeth bared.
“Oh, shut it. This is a big moment, ya know? You wouldn’t believe how long I’ve wanted something like this.” Drake mocked, a huge grin plastered across his face as the grip on the Troll tightened ever so slightly, the threat behind the gesture clear.
“Then again, it’s not as if you can understand each me… and the thought of connecting to something like you for that… well…” He sighed reluctantly. The downsides of having an opponent who couldn’t even understand you. The bragging rights from winning were sadly useless.
Oh well. It’d be best to simply leave it as is. It wasn’t as if he was particularly interested in letting the creature know what he was saying either.
“Although, what to do with you now…?” He muttered.
It wasn’t as if he wanted to let it live. It was too powerful to fight if it came across Peter on his own, and it wasn’t the ideal target he was looking for when he was planning to test out the conversion abilities of his mana.
I mean…
It was a Troll. A big, dumb piece of regenerating muscle that was good for little more than hitting things really hard, a trait that he was quite proud of being able to imitate now, at least in theory. The entire reason he sought out the ‘holy’ mana in the first place, was because it was likely to suit his needs. As for the writhing mass of muscle and teeth in front of him? He had doubts on whether he could even ask it questions. It didn’t seem to be the brainy type…
“Oh.”
The Nymph. He could just ask her what to do with it. Maybe she could get something out of it that he couldn’t. Although… given his original plan, it might just run away from him the moment she sees what happened. Well, at the very least, it’d be amusing to see her face when he came walking up with it. He could imagine it now…
“Yep. That’s the best plan.” He snickered to himself.
“Alright, big guy. You’re coming with me. No questions asked.” Drake yelled out as he began to jog forward.
There was a sudden crash in the underlying brush as Drake turned, and the Troll subsequently mulched several of the surrounding plants with its face all while Drake kept a solid grip on it. It turned out that suddenly dropping his hand resulted in an equally violent reaction when the mana controlling it was suddenly directed almost straight towards the ground. It wouldn’t have done anything typically but… Well, a nine-foot troll suddenly crashing to the ground tended to make a mess.
“Right. Sorry about that. Won’t happen again.” Drake winced playfully as he picked the Troll back up into the air. Yea… he definitely still needed to get used to his newly formed powers. Well, he had time.
“So pretty…”
Drake’s shoulders went stiff. A small, quaint voice emerged, almost as if it was speaking directly into Drake’s ear. It was faint, and a bit like a child’s voice but just clear enough for him to do a double-take as a shiver went down his spine.
“What the hell was that?”
*****
He stood alone again, completely deprived of any good food, and seriously reconsidering what he was going to do concerning the dungeon. First however…
“So hungry…” Peter complained.
Drake said he’d be back with food, but it had been close to an hour now, with no signs of him returning…
“He isn’t killing something big, right? Just kill a carbuncle, and bring it back, or something. Chop the horn off, and it’s no different than a rabbit. Knowing what I do now though, who knows what kind of crazy thing it’ll be instead,” he groaned.
He just wanted something good to eat, before he began training again, but it seemed as if that wasn’t an option. Well, Drake would probably be disappointed if he didn’t have any better control over his powers than when he left, anyway.
“As for this…”
Peter reluctantly held up the red shard. Honestly, he was even surprised with himself at the awful feeling it let out. Although he was reluctant to say so to Drake’s face, it felt… evil. Like a pair of eyes, staring out from the dark, sort of evil.
It was why he had practically jumped back with fright when Drake had tossed it over initially. He had the most awful feeling whenever he held it, like something was staring back. But… it was just a red stone. He conjured out of thin air, and it was all too easy to see that it was made out of the same material he had seen Drake use while they were in the upper reaches of the dungeon. Besides, it wasn’t like mana could actually hold anything alive. It was probably just his imagination.
“Just my imagination…”
He still didn’t like it, but, apparently it would be useful for training. If he could only figure out how.
It had been roughly 2 weeks since he first came into possession of his new power. Luke was injured quickly after they first entered, but Morgan was only removed a full week after they entered the cavern. It was only after that when he received the so-called ‘Oath of the Ancients’.
It was vague, but it had granted him a few abilities. The true power, however, wasn’t so easy to master.
A strange feeling had filled him the moment that Morgan had been dragged out of the dungeon. The master of the dungeon had mentioned it was a gift of himself, and it would only be through introspection that he would truly understand his abilities. Just what that meant however, was confusing in a number of ways.
Was he meant to meditate? To understand his abilities through a trial of combat? Or some vague mixture of the two?
He didn’t know. And that mindset was where he was lost, until Drake arrived at least. With nothing more than a small flick of his wrist as he had tossed the crystal towards him.
The feeling he got from holding the stone was almost physically repulsive, in a way, but that was to his benefit. Unknown to even him, he had begun to purify the stone. However, this was only the tiniest of strands that were drawn to the stone. The stone itself was completely unaffected by such a process. And so…
“Drake… he said something about taking my own advice. Just what the hell does that mean?”
He floundered about for a bit.
It wasn’t completely his fault. He had been cursed with good advice, if somewhat well meaning at the time. Aesir’s mana was well, Aesir’s. It laid inside the one who was gifted it and was of a completely different sort of process than typical Mages used. So, rather than obsessing such details, Peter shifted his focus.
Drake had given him the stone for a reason, he fully believed that. So, could that be the key?
He breathed out, and began to focus, both on himself, and the feeling he felt from the stone. His instincts had never led him astray, and it was why he was looked to as the leader of his small group. If he could somehow, lessen, the frightening feeling from the stone, then he believed he would be on the right path.
The stone was the first to react. As Peter held it, his eyes closed and focused, the color began to fade. It was almost imperceptible, like a trick of the eyes. The deep, red crimson that made up the crystal Drake formed was the same as his scales, a point of pride for the intended recipient of Drake’s abilities, but the crystal itself was so small, and held so little power.
It was impossible to hold off the purifying mana for long, no matter how hard he tried. Trapped, and chained to his other half, he could do little more than influence the little things. See through the stone, to see a fledgling Paladin in front of him, pathetically attempting to purify such a small source, or to deep underground, where a similar operation was happening on a much larger scale, to his own amusement.
To a small, amusing creature, curiously tapping on a massive crystal made from his other half’s brief moment of rage. Or, in increasingly small glimpses, of a manic witch, frantically attempting to learn the secrets he controlled.
“Ahhh…” He could only hold out for this long? Pathetic.
In a sudden flash, the crystal Peter had grasped between his hands suddenly exploded. It was really a matter of time, given the small size of the crystal, but subtle interventions could only keep the purifying mana at bay for so long. Small, gray fragments fell around Peter, as he could only look on in confusion.
“Uh… What?”
*****
One could say it was the result of a simple mistake, while others would most definitely point to Drake’s possessive nature, but the facts stood for themselves. Disregarding the wealth of crystalline mana that had been seeded throughout the Myconid’s cavern as a last resort, Drake had also left almost a five-foot block of the material in the center of the village. Granted, a particular horned girl was trapped firmly in the center, but it was left there regardless of that fact.
The Myconid were, regardless of what Drake might have believed, a fairly non-violent race. Unless Drake took it upon himself to exterminate the entire species, they wouldn’t respond with force. And so, when Drake was dragged up through the roof of the cavern, things returned to normal quite quickly. It took a bit of doing, but the large crystal was moved from the center of the village, roughly to the point where Drake emerged from the cocoon soon after his awakening from his trial. It was known to all the Myconid how detrimental to themselves exposure to such a source over time would be. The crystal was moved and put out of their minds, as life quickly returned to normal for the creatures.
That is, except for a single, small Myconid Sprout.
“So pretty…” The small sprout let out a high-pitched squeal, as it looked on.
That single thought had captivated it from the moment it had caught sight of Drake. The mana that he released during their initial meeting sparkled like stars in its eyes, enrapturing the small creature from that moment on. Of course, when it had seen the adults carrying a crystal the size of the adults themselves, it had no choice but to follow!
It was confusing, however. The small convoy of adult Myconid that carried the large crystal in the village seemed to be moving it near the edges of the Myconid’s domain. Did they not want anymore?
“Hmph.” Even if she had to follow them outside of the village, it wouldn’t stop. The opportunity to see a piece even larger than the shard she picked up, it was too great to not attempt.
“Ah! The Shard.” It hurriedly checked its bag again, only to relax once it caught sight of the small, crimson jewel it held in its hand.
“So pretty…” It hugged the stone happily to its body, before carefully sequestering it away in the small bag it carried. It wouldn’t do to lose such a pretty jewel. Although it was young, it knew that much.
Nodding to assure itself, it carefully followed behind the convoy. It was slow going, but eventually, the Adults set down the large crystal on the edge of the village. Hiding behind one of the many underground pillars in the cavern, the sprout watched as the adults of the colony began to make their way back, one by one.
“Adults. Leaving.” Its eyes swelled with confidence, and enthusiasm.
It would need to avoid the adults, that much was obvious. They would alert they Sovereign, and there was little it could do if it came to that. It would be ordered back. There was also the matter avoiding any of spore servants that guarded the outer edges of the colony. Given that they were controlled directly by the Sovereign to guard the village’s borders… ah, but the chance to see such a large crystal…! It would just have to be quick.
It quickly moved, staying out of sight, before slowly moving along the periphery of the ledge it was hiding along.
“Hm.” This was a good spot.
It could barely contain its excitement as it slowly clambered down a small rock face towards the crystal.
“Ooouu… Spiky.” It puffed up in mock-anger as it’s small hand inadvertently poked a particularly sharp piece of rock, before it finally jumped the final foot to the floor.
“There, good.” It nodded, before turning around to the large, crimson crystal that lay before it, only to be utterly awestruck by the sight.
“Ooohh… Pretty…”
The small sprout’s eyes widened as it slowly walked to the mass of crystal, its small hands caressing the exterior. Still, that brief moment of elation disappeared as it caught sight of something else. The girl from inside the village. She was inside, and looked upset… Why?
The Sovereign had told all others like it to keep away from the center of the village, but it didn’t understand why. When it had been allowed to return, the adults were carrying out this crystal, with the girl inside? Moreover, where had the mister who had made the crystal’s gone?
“Hm…”
The young girl was so nice. She had taken part in a strange change soon after she arrived and had emerged so beautifully. The Sovereign had been quite clear about her from then on. She was a welcome guest of the Great One, and the girl had responded in kind. She even took part in their communal meditation at one point, and she had become even more nice after.
“Sad…”
She was sad, but she inside such a wonderful piece of crystal. Why was she sad?
The sprout hurriedly removed the small piece inside of her bag, before comparing the two. If… if she was somehow taken out of the crystal, would she be less sad?
Such a conundrum was new to the young sprout. The fine sheen of the crystal, and the way it seemed to sparkle whenever she looked at it… it looked to be nothing but solid stone, the same as any other in the cavern. Granted, she could see through the stone, which made it special, but if it really was nothing more than normal stone, the sad girl couldn’t be trapped. It was young, but it knew that much.
“Hmm… Hmmm… Hmmmm…!” The young sprout twisted and turned in place, its arms crossing more fervently with every small noise it made.
How could it free her?