Qing's jaw slackened, and he sank down against the wall, seeking protection of the familiar horror of the hole he'd just emerged from. The thought of crawling back in, blinking across the howling expanse, get to the Field's of Fallen Grace and then get the hell out of… hell was nearly unstoppable.
The cavernous chamber could have held a thousand dragons. Fleshy walls pulsed and writhed, and the air stank, while a nauseating blend of decay and caustic chemicals stung his eyes.
From the ceiling hung countless sacs, each one twitching. The walls undulated, a fusion of slick stone and organic matter.
Crimson pools dotted the ground, filled with the strange fluids dripping from above.
It all stank of demonic magic.
Qing's insides roiled to the ambient squelches and gurgles.
Bloody hell. It's a demon breeding ground.
He hurried forward, wanting to get out of the open. Instead, he scurried over to a group of bulbous cocoons, pulsing with unnatural life, like so many human-sized grapes on the wine. Between them, fleshy tendrils squirmed and writhed.
He stepped into something wet and viscous, and sighed, his face contorting. Suddenly, the thrumming of the cocoons intensified, as if the chamber sensed his intrusion.
Right. Definitely not the five-star accommodations in Hell.
Qing crept deeper into the chamber, his footsteps squelching on the blood-slicked floor.
Bizarre, organic machinery filled the vast space. The pods were countless. Soon he came to a row where the filament was transparent and he saw what was inside. Half-formed demons straight out of a grown man's nightmare lay suspended in viscous green liquid.
As he stared straight at one, its eyes opened, staring straight at Qing, and he stumbled backwards. The demon opened its mouth, bubbles pouring forth from between its fanged teeth.
Qing recoiled as the half-formed demon's claws tore through the sac. Viscous fluid spilled onto the already slick floor, splatting the demon onto the floor like a natural birth gone wrong. Its half-formed limbs flailed, reaching for him with desperate movements.
Without hesitation, Qing raised his foot and brought it down hard on the demon's skull. There was a sickening crunch as bone and cartilage gave way under his boot.
An ungodly stench wafted up from the crushed remains, a nauseating mix of sulphur, rotting flesh, and something distinctly otherworldly. Qing gagged, fighting the urge to vomit as the putrid odour assaulted his senses.
"Bloody hell," he said, wiping his boot on a nearby patch of dry ground. The smell seemed to seep into his very pores. He tried breathing through his mouth, glancing around nervously, but he could almost taste the foulness on his tongue.
When nobody came, he snuck on, creeping among the pods. At the end, the space opened up below, an area accessibly by a ramp from where he was. Qing took in the area from above and understanding dawned as he received a quest update.
Quest: [Thrive to Survive]
You have found the Demon Hatchery where demons are born from the corrupted souls of the damned. Find a way to disrupt its drain before it overwhelms you and your allies.
-Optional Objective [Complete]: Discover the source of the drain
Current drain: 2% (increases by 0.5% every 12 hours)
-Optional reward (Received): Two level five skill-books
Not only that, but Qing nearly choked when he received the reward.
Item received: 2 x [Level Five Skill Book]
He put a hand out and supported himself, just to jerk the hand away from the warm liquid-filled sack, face twisted in disgust.
Two level five skills? What the hell is waiting for me here? And why couldn't the stingy bastard give me a few skillpoints along with the books?
He'd need to level up to get a skillpoint, and while he was close, that wouldn't get him no cigars.
Instead, he knelt down and observed the area below. If this was where new demons were being "born", the obvious way to disrupt its drain would be to stop it from birthing more demons, surely.
Small imp-like demons scurried between the pods, adjusting tubes and wielding crude surgical tools. Qing watched in horrified fascination as one of the imps made a precise incision on a forming demon's limb, ensuring it grew into the desired shape.
Not only was this place clearly the source of the energy drain, but each new demon birthed here would add to Hell's armies, tipping the scales further against Elrydisan and Earth.
The scene below was chaotic, like watching an anthill. But something told him there was a logic to the madness.
As he looked for any sign of a weak point. He saw small, insect-like demons with chitinous exoskeletons scurrying along the walls and ceiling. He named them Skitter Imps, as their spindly limbs allowed them to move damn fast, and seemingly across everything. They dropped down onto the pods, using their sharp pincers to slice through tubes and flesh, making quick, precise adjustments to the developing creatures within.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Nope. No logic. This is all just madness. But how to disrupt it?
If the hatchery was a crucial part of Hell's power, then stopping it from producing more demons could slow the drain on energy. Or maybe by stopping the energy flowing into the hatchery he'd both stop the drain and the birthing of more demons. But how?
Hunched over bubbling cauldrons of dark, viscous fluids stood hunched over demons with leathery skin and long, nasty arms. He half expected them to mutter to themselves about how precious things were. They stirred the concoctions with gnarled claws before pouring the mixtures into tubes connected to the pods.
Nutrients? Sedatives? Poison?
Their glowing yellow eyes darted around, filled with a manic energy as they whispered and cackled among themselves, seeming to enjoy their work.
Then he froze as a scream sounded from below. One of the demons working the cauldrons, a… Grue Gremlin, screamed, and several skitter imps came rushing over.
The gremlin gestured wildly, leading the imps to a nearby pod. The pod pulsed, and Qing could make out the silhouette of a nearly formed demon within.
Without hesitation, the Skitter Imps set to work. Their sharp pincers sliced through the fleshy membrane of the pod and green-ish fluid gushed out, splattering across the floor and the imps' chitinous bodies. They pulled the nearly-formed demon from its sac, its limbs flailing weakly.
Qing's stomach churned as the imps tore the demon apart. Their pincers snipped through flesh and bone with no problem. The demon's screams were short-lived as one of the imps severed its head.
For a moment, Qing thought he'd witnessed some sort of quality control gone wrong. But then the Grue Gremlin waddled forward, snatched up the decapitated head, before hurrying back to its cauldron. Without ceremony, it tossed the head into the bubbling mixture. The concoction hissed and spat, and the Grue Gremlin resumed stirring its cauldron. The Skitter Imps scuttled away, leaving the remains of the demon on the floor.
He'd expected the imps to clear the remains away, but he didn't have to wait long to find out why they hadn't bothered.
A squat and bloated demon came waddling between the pods. Shorter than the gremlins, but three times as fat, it had multiple mouths across its body, chattering. Qing couldn't help himself. He had to watch as it plopped down on the floor amid the remains and started devouring the remains. With its bloated belly and multiple mouths, it seemed like they were the disposal system for the hatchery.
Disgusting.
Qing’s stomach churned with disgust and he forced himself to look away, following the greenish, glowing tubes that snaked out from the pods. Their pulsing light seemed to all come from the same direction, somewhere deeper in the cave.
But there was also another set of tubes leading to the pods, these red-ish. From his current vantage point he couldn't see where they came from. With a grimace, Qing got down on his belly and crawled along the edge until her could get a better view. And he was rewarded, both in disgusting slime, but also information.
A massive cauldron-like vat stood near the far wall, and seemed to be a hub of activity, easily ten times larger than the vats the gremlins stirred. Red demonic runes writhed across its surface, pulsing in time with the energy flowing through the pipe surges.
All the tubes came from its base, and with each pulse, a fresh wave of power flowed from the vat through the network of tubes, feeding the developing demons in the pods. This vat seemed to be the heart of the hatchery—its engine of creation.
If I can disrupt the flow of energy from this vat to the pods, I might be able to cripple this entire operation. That'll stop it from producing more demons and cut down the drain on Hell’s energy.
But it wouldn't be as simple as severing a few tubes. The vat was protected, anchored by the runes etched into the floor around it, runes that seemed to draw energy directly from the fabric of Hell itself.
He would need to disable those runes or find a way to overload the vat with its own energy.
Qing blinked down in between the pods, all the way at the left wall, and crept towards the vat in the distance. Down here the air was thicker. As he rounded a pod, he froze.
Lurking ahead, nearly invisible in the shadows, were grotesque creatures, even smaller than the skitter imps. They seemed to be malformed versions of the demons in the pods, with misshapen limbs and patchwork skin that looked like it had been stitched together from various creatures.
They moved with jerky, uncoordinated motions, as if their bodies didn't quite function as planned.
They seemed to be clustering around the massive vat, growing more plentiful closer to the vat.
Maybe they are leeching energy from it?
Qing's heart raced and he licked his lips. He didn't want to risk a direct confrontation. Not when he still didn't know how to sabotage this place. Stealth was his only option.
He pressed himself against the slimy wall, grimacing as it pulsed against his back. Slowly, he edged along the perimeter of the chamber, using the shadows cast by the pods and machinery for cover, keeping his own light dimmed to nothing.
When one of the deformed demons turned its head in his direction, Qing held his breath. He remained perfectly still until the creature's attention shifted elsewhere. Then, pulling in energy, he cast Blink.
In an instant, Qing teleported across the room behind a piece of organic machinery.
Alright. Let's find a way to crash this demon baby shower.
Qing gripped his glaive tightly, his knuckles white against the weapon's haft. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. With a swift motion, he slashed at the nearest fleshy tube, severing it cleanly. Viscous fluid spilled onto the floor, and the connected pod began to deflate with a sickening hiss.
He didn't stop there. Qing moved quickly, slicing through tube after tube, watching with grim satisfaction as more pods collapsed. The air filled with the pitiful mewling of half-formed demons spilling onto the ground.
That ought to be enough to clear the way.
Qing blinked further along the wall, into another set of pods as a chorus of shrieks erupted from the shadows. The imp-like creatures and malformed demons poured out from every crevice heading to the damaged pods.
At first he thought he'd gotten away clean, pulling them away from the vat, but then a Skitter Imp jump out at him, its pincers snapping at his face. Qing blinked away, reappearing behind the creature and cleaving it in two with his glaive.
He froze as chaos reigned.
Maybe they didn't hear?
But he had no such luck.
Dozens of the shadowy half-baked demons trundled towards him, screeching.
Fuck it.
Chain Lightning crackled from his fingertips, arching between, popping them like balloons. From his right came several Grue Gremlins. He met them with a hail of Magic Missiles, sending them convulsing to the ground, smoke rising from their leathery skin where the magic had burned through.
As more demons converged on Qing, he danced between attacks, his glaive flashing, and the demons fell, their bodies piling up at his feet. It felt almost too easy.
It was.
As one, the remaining demons froze, before turning and scuttling away, disappearing into the shadows.
A cold feeling spread through his bones. The hatchery had grown quiet, only drips and dying demons filling the air.
An evil presence filled the room, and Qing turned in a slow circle, glaive at the ready.
"Fuck," he said, as a new monster came plodding out of the darkness.
A monster whose name he instinctively knew.
The Alchemancer.