The pike embedded in his shoulder snagged on entry. He fought to twist his hand up and over, snapping the shaft off with one powerful use of [Compression Grip]. He used pressurized kicks to gain speed through the water-filled tunnel. [Starmoss] lit up his path and became the only source of solace as he continued on.
Quintin could hold his breath for a long time, but this was no beach party. Fortunately, he had gotten a big breath while mid-dive, though the longer this went on, the more panic would set in.
There was no turning back now; it was a one-way path of twists and turns. A small blockage of fallen rocks littered the area ahead. His hands were sent out to wreck the feeble architecture without pause for concern.
I'll seriously drown if this goes on much longer!
Only after clearing the way forward did he allow a trace of panic to quicken his pace. With no sign of an opening, he picked up even more speed by kicking himself off the walls and gripping onto handholds as he pushed out around the bends.
He continued through the vein-like tunnel. The blue pulse of [Starmoss] filled up his vision; he was nearly at his limit. Could feel the building pressure to expel the overdrawn breath. His head cleared when he saw the tunnel open up wider with the promise of release—in one form or another because he couldn't hold out for much longer.
An underwater exit rushed into view up ahead. On discovery, he pushed and pulled like a mad dog rushing toward a new bone in the yard.
Quintin swam hard.
His lungs pleaded with him to escape; small gulps of air bursting from one cavity into the body of another. The bottom was the launchpad to his feet as he torpedoed upwards. Quintin could see a dim glow, see the difference in perspective from the shimmering, wave-break view above—and alongside that, he breached the surface.
In the quiet deeps, a sloshing sound and primal gasps echoed throughout. His lungs, arms, and legs were inflamed by overtaxed, frantic movements. For a time, he just drifted on the water's surface in pain and exhaustion. The barrage of beheaded-pikes that sent him to a watery grave, had instead turned into a narrow escape. He touched his shoulder wound and winced at the rawness.
Quintin squinted his eye wearily, taking in the massive cavern he now found himself in. It was a complex of pillars alit with the calming blue glow that marked everything. This mostly underwater scene still had some dry areas here and there in the form of bulbous rock areas above water level. Looking down into the depths revealed more fully immersed ruins.
In the far distance, partially hidden, a portion of sloping, rocky ground could barely be discerned. For now, he just wanted to recuperate from his injuries, so he made his way over to a nearby partition of dry rocks, and gingerly lifted himself out from the water.
That was seriously a close call. I have no idea how long I was under, he thought in gulps of breath. He finally settled into a comfortable position now that he could apply his [Healing Potion], and check out his gains rather than over-think his losses.
But first, he had to pull the nubby remainder of the pike out. He put a wound-up piece of cloth between his teeth and clenched the shaft. Bracing himself he gave it a quick, sharp pull and grunted into the rag when it exited his shoulder. He pulled the [Healing Potion] out of [Storage] and poured a little on the wound before drinking a small portion himself. He felt better almost immediately.
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Status!
[Iron-Beak Hobgoblin] x2 *defeated.
[Goblin Lv. 1-10] x38 *defeated.
—22,000exp. granted. [Class Level Up +3]!
+15[AP] gained. Free AP: 20
[Nameless Grappler] Lv. 15=>18 [Skills]:
[Compression Grip] Lv. 7=>9
[Seven-Steps Path] Lv. 6=>7
[Pneumatic: Legs/Feet] Lv. 5=>7
[Pneumatic: Hands/Arms] Lv. 6=>8
[Sinisphere//Envision] Lv. 6=>7 [General Skills]:
[Pain Tolerance] Lv.5=>6
[Concentration] Lv. 5=>6
[Impact Resist] Lv. 5=>6
[Deflection.....] Lv. 1=>2 [Storage]:
+27 [Goblin Ears] [Quest]:
[Contract: Goblins in the Cave]: complete. [Resources]:
HP: 50/417 (+Healing)
SP: 200/787
PP: 30/250
MP: 0/0
Two more levels until I reach 20, and possibly another skill choice. I can only hope I get something useful. Even [Goblins] are no joke with those numbers and a [Leader-Type], he somberly recollected. And just where am I anyway? The system said something about a [Ruins Outskirt], am I deeper inside the [Ruins] now?
He scanned his surroundings and deactivated [Sinisphere] so he could use [Meditation] to heal faster. It seemed if he was looking inward, he couldn't simultaneously look outward at the same time—at least not yet. He finally settled down into recovery-mode and contemplated his choices.
I should spend my free [AP] again. But more than that I need to choose a direction. I could go back down the way I came now that I know I can make the swim, though just barely. Explore around here first? There's that sloping area in the distance that might lead to something of interest.
[Stats]: [AP]: 20=>5
Str: 43=>49
Vit: 70=>76
Dex: 62=>65 [Resources]:
HP: 250/454
SP: 400/809
PP: 50/250
The [Headbearer] was insane, what was that [Magic] though? Does it summon heads or control heads? Who thinks of stuff like that? I'll have to deal with him if I go back the way I came. I hope that final move was the bottom of its bag of tricks.
Droplets of water plinked into the greater body below—their dropping point from stalactites. The stillness prevailed within the comforting blue environment. Quintin lost track of time as he allowed his reserves to slowly regenerate, the dull ache from his wounds withdrawing along with it.
Quintin's [Pressure Points] very gradually recharged. He surmised that it would take roughly two full days of inactivity just to regain full from zero. Crushing objects with [Compression Grip] seemed to increase the rate at which it built-up, albeit, it was still remarkably slow even given that.
With all his [Resources], besides [PP], topped off, he reactivated [Sinisphere]. In preparation to meet whatever deadly foes the world had in store for him, he wouldn't take it lightly.