The hill rumbled violently as the massive creature emerged from its cavernous opening. It crouched low at first, its broad shoulders scraping the fleshy walls of the hill, but as it stepped outside, it unfurled to its full height.
Six meters tall, its body was a grotesque amalgamation of bulging muscles and writhing tentacles where its arms should have been. Its legs, oddly human in appearance, carried its immense bulk with an unnerving grace. Its head was a nightmarish sight—no eyes where they should be, only a gaping maw lined with rows upon rows of jagged teeth. The eyes, instead, sat atop its shoulders, swiveling independently to scan the battlefield.
The ground trembled with each step it took, a slow but deliberate advance that rattled the bones of every onlooker.
“Okay, that thing’s slow,” Ulrick shouted, his voice strained with tension, “but look at those muscles! If it hits you, you better not be there!”
The group instinctively spread out into three smaller teams, retreating slightly as they dealt with the last remnants of the smaller monsters. Tentacles flailed, and claws flashed in the dim light, but the tide of smaller creatures began to dwindle. Only the titan remained, its hulking frame advancing like an inevitability.
The group readied themselves, tension thick in the air.
Suddenly, it charged—slow at first, then faster, each step shaking the ground like a drumbeat of doom. Its target was clear: the group with Vin and Gale. Arrows and quills pelted its flesh, but the monster didn’t even flinch, its advance relentless.
“Spread out!” Ulrick barked.
The group scattered, narrowly dodging as one of the titan’s massive tentacles slammed into the ground where they’d stood moments before. The impact sent a shockwave through the air, the ground cracking beneath its force. The second tentacle followed in a wide arc, catching a Wendren warrior and Gale mid-dodge. Both were thrown several meters, landing with heavy thuds.
Gale groaned, his vision swimming, but through the haze, he saw something that stole his breath.
Marked Skull.
The Wendren chieftain stepped forward, standing tall and unyielding in the face of the monstrous titan. His parasite blade gleamed faintly in the red light, and his eyes glowed with fierce determination.
With a guttural roar, Marked Skull charged, his massive frame colliding with the titan in a clash of raw power. The ground quaked beneath their struggle as he deflected one tentacle with his blade and sidestepped the other with surprising agility.
“Holy shit…” Gale muttered, struggling to his feet. “Good thing he’s on our side.”
The rest of the group rallied behind him, peppering the titan with arrows, quills, and bursts of magic. Brill, his hands already glowing with flames, moved closer, weaving through the chaos with precision. The flames danced across the monster’s flesh, causing it to shriek and recoil, but still, it stood strong.
Marked Skull fought with ferocity, his strikes calculated and unrelenting, each one deflecting the titan’s devastating blows. The two giants were locked in a brutal dance, neither giving an inch.
Brill saw his opening and moved closer. The flames in his hands grew brighter, hotter, as he poured his mana into the spell. Sweat beaded on his brow, and his breath came in short gasps, but he didn’t stop. The flames shifted from red to deep orange, then to a brilliant yellow.
“Brill, don’t overdo it!” Ulrick shouted, but Brill couldn’t hear him.
The mana surged through him, overwhelming his senses as the spell reached its peak. His body trembled, the heat radiating from him intense enough to warp the air around him. Then it happened.
A scream tore from Brill’s throat as the flames erupted, consuming him in a vortex of fire. The titan roared in response, its tentacles flailing wildly as the inferno engulfed it. The others shielded their eyes from the blinding light, the heat forcing them to retreat.
The explosion was deafening, a shockwave of fire and force that flattened the nearby trees and sent waves rippling through the flesh-covered ground.
When the flames finally subsided, the group looked on in stunned silence.
Marked Skull was the first to move, his glowing eyes scanning the scene. The titan lay before him, its once-massive form reduced to a charred husk, its blackened flesh crumbling like ash.
And there, at the center of the devastation, stood Brill.
His clothes were scorched, his skin reddened and blistered, but he stood tall, the flames still flickering faintly around him. His eyes burned with a new intensity, the mark of his Tier 2 awakening.
Ulrick approached cautiously, his voice low with awe. “Brill… you… you leveled up?”
Brill nodded, his breaths coming in heavy gasps. “Tier 2…” he murmured, his voice tinged with both exhaustion and disbelief. “I… I didn’t mean for it to happen like this.”
Marked Skull stepped forward, his imposing presence softened by a rare note of respect. “You have proven yourself, predator. The sacred tree would be proud of your strength.”
The group exchanged glances, a mix of relief and amazement washing over them. They had defeated the titan, but the cost had been great, and the journey was far from over.
As they regrouped and prepared to move forward, Lucy whispered from atop Oak’s shoulder, her voice filled with a mix of fear and determination.
“This place… it’s only going to get worse, isn’t it?”
Marked Skull’s glowing eyes met hers, his voice steady but grim.
“Yes. And we must be ready.”
The aftermath of the battle left the group in a strange state of tension and exhaustion, and Vin’s focus on dissecting the remains brought an eerie calm amidst the chaos. His precise, almost clinical movements cut through the thick silence as he peeled back charred flesh from the titan’s corpse.
"Interesting. Titan male," Vin stated flatly, wiping a blade on the monster's scorched hide. He glanced toward the smaller monsters scattered across the battlefield, their twisted bodies lifeless and still. "Small monsters not able to reproduce. Likely dependent on central figure—broodmother."
He tilted his head upward, the storm’s lightning reflecting in his eyes. The jagged flashes illuminated the hill's pulsating surface, its eyestalks darting toward the group like wary sentinels. "Titan father. Mother inside hill. Likely last target."
Ulrick followed Vin’s gaze toward the massive central opening of the hill, shrouded in darkness. The eyestalks above the entrance twitched erratically, their movements somehow more deliberate and ominous than before.
“You mean there’s a broodmother in there?” Ulrick asked, his grip tightening on his sword.
"Nope!" Nole’s voice shot through the tense air. Still bundled tightly in her blanket cocoon, she glared at the dark maw of the hill. "Absolutely not. No way. I’m not going in there!"
Before anyone could suggest otherwise, Vin stood and began walking toward the entrance without a word. His movements were calm, deliberate, and utterly unbothered by the oppressive atmosphere.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Vin, wait!” Ulrick shouted, bolting after him. "You don’t just walk into something like that!"
The rest of the group exchanged glances before following Ulrick in a rush. Marked Skull led the Wendren warriors into formation, his glowing eyes narrowing as they approached the pulsating hill. Only Lucy, Nole, the Treants, and a few Wendren stayed behind at the hill’s base.
“Why does he always do this?” Ulrick muttered under his breath, glancing nervously into the blackness of the hill’s interior.
----------------------------------------
Back outside, Lucy sat perched on Oak’s massive shoulder, her legs swinging idly as she observed the group entering the hill. Her usual cheer was muted, replaced by a quiet unease. She glanced at Nole, who was grumbling under her breath about how much she hated “gross, fleshy places.”
“Don’t worry, Nole,” Lucy said with a faint smile. “They’ll be fine. Marky and Vin are super strong, and Shroomy can keep us safe out here.”
As if on cue, Shroomy released a cloud of glowing green spores that drifted lazily through the air. The spores settled on the group, and almost instantly, small wounds began to knit themselves closed. The soothing warmth of the healing effect spread through them like a gentle wave.
But then something unexpected happened.
“Whoa,” one of the Wendren warriors muttered, staring at his hand as if he’d never seen it before. “Everything’s… so colorful…”
Lucy tilted her head. “Colorful?”
Her question was answered when Nole suddenly burst into uncontrollable laughter. “Hahaha! Oh my gods, this is amazing!” she gasped between fits of giggles.
It didn’t take long for the others to follow suit. The Wendren warriors began laughing softly, their usual stoicism completely undone. Even Lucy found herself giggling despite the dire circumstances.
“Why is this so funny?” she managed to say between laughs, holding her stomach.
Oak rumbled softly, as if amused, while Shroomy remained blissfully unaware of the chaos he had caused. The Treant stood still, its spores continuing to drift lazily, adding to the surreal atmosphere.
Nole, still wrapped in her cocoon, finally managed to gasp out a sentence. “Does anyone… hahaha… have snacks? I’m starving!”
Lucy clung to Oak’s shoulder to keep from falling off, tears streaming down her face as she laughed uncontrollably. “Shroomy! What did you do?!” she giggled.
The unintended side effect of Shroomy’s healing spores had turned the tense, bloody aftermath of battle into a bizarre, laughter-filled spectacle. For a moment, even amidst the horrors of the fourth floor, it felt like nothing could go wrong.
Inside the Hill:
The group that ventured inside the hill moved cautiously, their steps echoing wetly on the fleshy ground. The air grew thicker with each step, a nauseating mix of heat, decay, and something faintly sweet that clung to the back of their throats. The glowing torches cast flickering, uneven light, revealing pulsating walls lined with thin, vein-like strands that quivered at their approach.
Ulrick took the lead, his one-handed axe drawn, eyes darting from side to side. Behind him, Gale gripped his massive two-handed sword tightly, his sharp gaze scanning every shadow. Brill and Vin followed, the latter already muttering about the biological oddities around them.
“This place… it’s alive,” Gale muttered, his voice tinged with both fear and disgust. “It feels like we’re walking through the guts of something massive.”
Vin, ever the scientist, crouched briefly to examine a patch of glowing, membranous material clinging to the floor. “Tissue regeneration in progress. Likely part of its defensive system. Fascinating.”
“Not the time, Vin,” Ulrick snapped, his eyes locked on a particularly large tunnel ahead. “Stay alert. Whatever made this place isn’t going to roll out a welcome mat.”
The deeper they went, the stranger the terrain became. The walls were no longer just pulsing flesh but now sported growths that resembled teeth or claws, jutting out at odd angles. Pools of a thick, viscous liquid dotted the floor, some bubbling faintly as if alive.
The sound of their breathing was overtaken by a faint, rhythmic sound—a low, guttural thrum that seemed to come from everywhere at once. It was deep and primal, resonating in their chests like a second heartbeat.
Brill shivered, his usual composure faltering. “What is that sound? It’s like it’s… calling something.”
“It’s the broodmother,” Vin said simply, his monotone voice betraying no emotion. “We are close.”
Ulrick tightened his grip on his axe. “Stay together. No one wanders off.”
The tunnel widened into a massive chamber, and the group froze at the sight before them.
The broodmother.
A grotesque mass of flesh dominated the center of the room, pulsating with unnatural energy. Its bloated body was partially fused with the walls, tendrils of muscle and sinew connecting it to the hill itself. Dozens of eyestalks sprouted from its upper half, swiveling erratically to track the intruders. Its lower body oozed a slick, dark liquid that pooled around it, and its massive maw, lined with razor-sharp teeth, opened and closed rhythmically as if tasting the air.
Smaller creatures scuttled around it, some emerging from the fleshy walls, others dropping from the ceiling like grotesque fruit.
“By the gods…” Gale muttered, his massive sword trembling slightly in his grip.
The broodmother let out a low, guttural roar, and the room seemed to vibrate with its fury. The smaller creatures froze momentarily before surging forward in a tide of claws and teeth.
“Hold the line!” Ulrick bellowed, stepping forward to meet the charge. His axe flashed in the dim light, cleaving through the first wave of attackers.
Gale swung his sword in wide, devastating arcs, each strike cutting down multiple foes. Brill summoned flames to his hands, hurling bursts of fire at the oncoming horde. Vin, unflinching as always, used his dagger to dispatch anything that got too close.
Despite their efforts, the sheer number of creatures threatened to overwhelm them. The broodmother roared again, and several of the tendrils connecting it to the walls began to thrash wildly, striking out at anything within reach.
“This isn’t working!” Gale shouted, his voice strained. “We can’t take them all on like this!”
Ulrick glanced back, his mind racing. “Vin! Can you see a weak point on that thing?”
Vin’s gaze flicked to the broodmother, his analytical mind working rapidly. “Central nerve cluster, near the base. Sever connection to hill, may weaken overall structure.”
“Then we focus on that!” Ulrick ordered. “Gale, keep those things off us! Brill, light it up!”
The group moved as one, their efforts now focused on the broodmother itself. Brill’s flames scorched the tendrils as they swung, forcing them to retract. Ulrick charged forward, his axe biting into the bloated mass, ichor spraying across the chamber. Vin darted in and out, his precise strikes aimed at the nerve cluster.
The broodmother roared in pain, its movements growing more erratic. The creatures around it faltered, their coordination breaking as their master’s strength waned.
With a final, desperate swing of his axe, Ulrick severed the central nerve cluster. The broodmother let out a deafening, keening wail that echoed through the chamber and the tunnels beyond. The smaller creatures convulsed violently before collapsing, their bodies twitching spasmodically as if their strings had been cut.
The broodmother slumped forward, its massive body deflating slightly as the tendrils connecting it to the walls went limp. The room fell silent, save for the heavy breathing of the group.
“It’s done,” Ulrick said, his voice low and steady. “Let’s get out of here before—”
With the broodmother’s demise, the entire hill began to convulse, the ground beneath them quivering with unsettling energy. The group watched as the fleshy structure trembled violently, tendrils snapping, eyestalks retreating into themselves, and the grotesque mass of the hill started to collapse. What was once a horrifying, pulsating mound of biological terror was now deflating like an overripe fruit.
The walls groaned and sagged, and within moments, the hollow structure caved in, folding under its own weight. The ground shook one final time before all that remained was a flat, oozing mass of organic debris, strewn across the bloody swamp floor like the aftermath of a macabre feast.
The group staggered out, covered in ichor and panting heavily, relief washing over them as they put distance between themselves and the now-ruined hill.
“Well… that was…” Gale started, but his voice trailed off as he spotted something unusual in the distance.
The other half of their expedition, who had remained outside, were now gathered around a campfire. The sight was surreal. Lucy sat happily perched on a log, roasting chunks of flesh horror beasts over the flames, her hands and face smeared with their blood like she had just discovered the joys of barbeque.
Nole, still cocooned in her blanket fortress, was sprawled on the ground like a content caterpillar, lazily poking at the fire with a stick. “Haha, it looks like a pancake now!” she giggled, her gaze fixed on the flattened hill. “Lucy, pancakes… oh, I want pancakes now! Hahaha!”
A bit further off, two Wendren were engaged in… behavior that made Marked Skull’s eyes widen in utter disbelief. The Wendren leader froze, completely at a loss for words.
This was the second time he had ever been rendered speechless since taking the mantle of leadership.
“What are they doing?” he finally managed to croak, his glowing eyes darting nervously between the campfire and the entangled Wendren.
Ulrick, equally exhausted but clearly more amused than horrified, clapped a hand on Marked Skull’s shoulder. “Golden rule, my friend: don’t interrupt. Bad luck to stop something like that.”
Marked Skull blinked, baffled. “But… you understand what they are doing, predator?”
“I mean… yeah,” Ulrick said, scratching the back of his neck. “They’re, uh, having a good time. Let’s just… leave them to it. Honestly, this whole floor’s been one weird fever dream. At this point, why question anything?”
Marked Skull shook his head, still unsure whether to intervene or simply let the madness unfold. His confusion deepened when Lucy turned to him, her cheeks puffed out like a squirrel, mid-chew on a chunk of roasted flesh horror.
“Marky! You want some?” she called cheerfully, waving a half-eaten piece of meat in his direction. “It’s actually really good! Kinda chewy, but it grows on you!”
He stared at her, utterly perplexed. “Lucy, are you… are you eating the enemy?”
“Yep! Tastes like chicken!” she chirped, taking another enthusiastic bite.
Marked Skull groaned and rubbed his temple. Nothing about this floor made sense anymore. As he glanced back at the two Wendren still fully engrossed in their “activity,” he muttered under his breath, “The sacred tree preserve us…”