[Critical hit! You are poisoned by a Golden Dart Frog-Monkey.]
No. No, no, no. My vision swam, the world blurring into swirling colors, the torchlight twisting like a fever dream. I slapped my hand against my neck, feeling a wet sting where something tiny and lethal had struck. The frog. Somewhere in the haze, I thought I saw it—small, wickedly fast, its body glistening like molten gold in the gloom.
My health bar ticked down with terrifying speed, each second punctuated by a fresh wave of nausea and pain. Crystal’s voice pierced through the fog.
[Physician, Heal thyself!]
“I—” I couldn’t think, couldn’t focus. My body was shutting down, muscles locking up as the venom coursed through me like molten metal. Bile rose in my throat, threatening to spill over as I fought the urge to collapse.
[Heal yourself, you big idiot!]
The sharpness in Crystal’s voice cut through the haze, grounding me for just a moment. I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek, the coppery taste of blood flooding my mouth. Focus.
I raised my shaking hand, fingers tracing the familiar sigils in the air. The heal spell erupted, a cool sensation pushing back against the inferno inside me, like a breath of fresh air after drowning. It wasn’t enough to stop the poison entirely, but it kept my heart beating, for now.
What am I supposed to do? These things are faster than I can react, and there’s no time to find an antidote.
I gripped my mace with both hands, feeling its reassuring weight, the leather-wrapped hilt cold and solid. My knuckles turned white as I forced myself to move—rolling toward the nearest monkey-frog thing. It croaked, its beady eyes gleaming with malicious intelligence, but I brought my mace down hard. The sickening crack of bone gave me a flicker of grim satisfaction as its skull caved in, but the poison still burned inside me, a ticking time bomb I couldn’t defuse.
“Oh man, oh man. What am I gonna do?” Panic laced my voice, my heart pounding so loud it drowned out my thoughts. Every breath felt like trying to inhale through wet cotton, thick and stifling as the poison raced through me.
[You could just let the poison run its course. You’ll respawn at the other end of the island.]
I could almost hear Crystal's shrug through the nonchalance of her tone. Easy for her to say. Every second felt like molten lead coursing through my veins. My muscles seized up, and the pain... God, the pain. It was a burning so intense, I thought my bones were melting.
No. I couldn't end this run like this.
[Well, technically, you wouldn’t be ending the run because you’ve got plenty of tickets,] Crystal continued, her voice somehow both soothing and maddening at once, [but if you insist on surviving, I’d recommend you use one of the many, many items in your inventory.]
Inventory? An almost out-of-body sensation washed over me. Of course. My damn inventory. How had I forgotten? It was like trying to remember a crucial detail while drowning in a whirlpool of pain. My hand twitched toward my pouch as reality slammed back into me: I had a hook shot. I had anti-poison potions. I had options. And I’d just... forgotten.
I facepalmed, my palm smacking against my forehead with more force than I intended, but it barely registered through the pain. I could practically hear Crystal rolling her eyes in the back of my head. “Idiot,” I muttered to myself.
With trembling hands, I fished out a swirling pink-and-green potion from my inventory. It was cold to the touch, the glass sweating against my fingers. The liquid inside shimmered like magic in a bottle—well, it was magic in a bottle, but you get the point. I uncorked it and chugged it down, the taste a sharp, tangy mix of Vornmaberry and apples, like biting into something both sweet and sour at once. The cool liquid slid down my throat, and I could feel it almost instantly, like ice water flowing through the molten fire of the poison.
Stolen novel; please report.
Relief hit me like a wave crashing over scorched earth. The pain ebbed away, slowly at first, but then all at once, leaving me gasping for air as the fog in my mind cleared. The tension in my muscles melted, the fire in my veins extinguished. I licked my lips, savoring the faint aftertaste of berries as clarity returned.
All the while, Maris was staring at me like I had just grown a second head. His eyes were wide, disbelief etched across his features. “How are you not dead?” he asked, voice hoarse with shock. “That poison should have killed you... like it did my entire party.”
His words hung in the air, heavier than the tension in the room. “Party?” I managed to croak out, still trying to catch my breath.
He waved his hand dismissively, as though my question didn’t deserve a response, though his voice softened, almost trembling. “I wasn’t alone when I crashed here. My dearest friends—Caliban, Sycorax, and Prospero—we came here together. We discovered this place together. I don’t even know where their bodies are anymore, but this... monster... it killed them all.”
His voice cracked, and before I could react, he rushed forward, his face contorted in rage. With a shout, he slammed his weapon into the corpse of the frog-monkey over and over, each strike landing with a sickening crunch, splattering green ichor in every direction. The body twitched, the bones caving under his blows, but he didn’t stop. His fury was all-consuming, raw, and brutal.
I winced, not so much at the brutality of what had happened, but at the fact that I wasn’t going to get a chance to loot that damn thing. I watched the blood pool at my feet, and the corpse slumped forward, useless to me now. But what could I say? The guy was grieving, right? You don’t tell someone to get out of the way so you can dig through their tragedy.
An hour later, the air had turned colder, and we were making camp for the night. I hadn’t realized how exhausted I was until I laid back, staring up at the stars. My muscles ached from all the running, the danger. The tension in my chest finally began to unravel as I closed my eyes and let the steady crackle of the fire lull me into a haze. I hadn’t felt this peaceful in a long time, like the world had stopped spinning, and for once, there was nothing to worry about.
I sighed. This was nice. The stars, the warmth of the fire, the quiet murmur of the night. For a moment, it almost felt like I was safe.
But the quiet didn’t last.
A sound, soft at first, pulled me from the edges of sleep. A whisper. I shifted, thinking it was the wind rustling through the trees, but then I heard it again, clearer this time.
“Help them...”
I blinked and sat up slightly, peering through the dim light. The fire cast long, flickering shadows across the camp, and Maris lay on his side, his back to me. His lips were moving, murmuring in his sleep.
I shook my head and rolled over, trying to ignore him. People talk in their sleep, right? No big deal. But his voice wouldn’t let up. The whisper turned into a low mutter, a strange, rhythmic chant that grated against the quiet of the night.
“Save them. Sacrifice...”
Sacrifice? My breath caught in my throat. I turned my head toward him, narrowing my eyes. Maybe it was just nonsense. People say weird things when they’re dreaming. But that word echoed in my mind, clinging like a dark stain.
Who was he talking about? Who needed saving, and why did it require a sacrifice?
Maris twitched, his face contorting as if caught in some terrible dream. His voice rose again, cutting through the silence with a fervor that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
“God of Stone, hear me! Help them!”
I froze. His voice was desperate, pleading, almost like a prayer—a prayer that seemed far too deliberate for sleep-talking. My stomach churned as a cold pit of dread settled in. My instinct was screaming at me now. Something was wrong.
He rolled over then, and the muttering stopped, the silence creeping back like a living thing, wrapping around us both. But I couldn’t shake the feeling, couldn’t brush off that word: sacrifice. The fire crackled softly, but it felt distant, muffled, like I was submerged in water, hearing the world through thick glass.
Who is he talking about?