42.

“Anyone level?” Chloe asked as everyone took a breath. Their weapons were tidied, chunks of flesh and blood wiped off, a few water bottles broken out and passed around. The fight had been fast but any fight was draining with their relatively low stats.

“Naw.”

“Nope.”

“No.”

Tank, Rayleigh, Hana all gave negative answers while stoic Daniel just shook his head. They were all reaching the area where it’d probably take several fights to gain levels unless they started to fight way above their level like they had with the troll-kin.

“Course not. Was that me or was that easier than I expected?” Chloe kept up after frowning at the rest of them when she got negative responses.

“How hard did you expect it to be?” Santi couldn’t help himself. The comedown from the adrenaline surge was already hitting.

“Harder than that. How long did it last, a minute maybe?”

A minute and twenty-seven seconds exactly. The knowledge was instinctive for Santi, his minor affinity giving him the information.

“Yeah, something like that.”

“So, like, they were our level, they should have been tougher right?”

“We have skills, these ones didn’t.” Santi supplied.

“Anyone hurt?” Tank asked as he walked around the rest of the ground.

Another round of negatives rang out. Somehow everyone had managed to get through the fight without injuries. The hags weren’t the most capable CQB fighter in the world as they almost entirely relied on their potions and magics and worked with other monsters to protect themselves. Still, to fight a group of the equivalent level and come out with no injuries was impressive.

“Daniel, did you see anything else further?” Tank asked.

“Nope. There’s nothing in this section of the hospital. We could keep clearing out the lower levels, but the air around the stairway is worse than here. Colder.”

“Santi, do you think it’d be worth it to clear the rest of the level or just push up?”

“If we had time, I would say clear it out slow and steady. We’re on the clock though. We need to clear the nest.”

“Alright, but speaking of clearing the nest, how do we do that?” Rayleigh asked as she leaned against a wall. She was covered in gore and seemed to be completely unfazed by it.

“In the rift there was a core and I took it and made the rift collapse when I left. Should be similar here,” the geas prevented him from telling them exactly how the nest needed to be cleared.

“So we just follow the chill in the air until we find a core that may or may not make the nest break apart?”

“Yeah.” Santi shrugged at them. They knew he knew more than he was telling them and it was only with Tank’s support that it hadn’t become more of an issue. That and his skill in killing monsters and keeping people safe.

“Alright then, Daniel, lead on,” Tank said as he waved a wide hand toward the staircase next to the elevator doors. The door to the stairway was open, claw marks having peeled the door open like an apple. Ribbons of metal lay in curled piles all around the bottom of the door.

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Without the light from the broken windows the stairwell was dark and Tank ordered them to bust out their glowsticks. Santi had to admit that so far his looting of the glowsticks had been the best investment so far.

The faint green glow let them see well enough as they climbed the stairs. Santi stayed behind the girls while Tank was behind him. The twisting nature of the staircase had them spinning as they worked their way up higher and higher. The chill was increasing with every flight of stairs deepening until it was a bitter cold that leeched at them.

The hospital was only five stories but they had to move slowly and quietly. Following the chill they were hardly past the third floor landing. The stairwell was mostly bare of evidence of violence that most of the hospital had shown so far. The echoing bang of a door slamming open above them froze them all as everyone sucked in a breath and held it. Flesh on concrete sounded out as hurried footsteps echoed in the stairwell.

“SHIT!” Chloe yelled as the first of the hags came flying from above them, having leapt from the higher level and down at them. Her silver axe illuminated the space, the glow of it far more noticeable in the dark, and bisected the falling hag. It fell in two pieces at her feet, the momentum of the fall pushing the smaller woman back and down the stairs.

Santi had to quickly adjust the grip on his spear to keep from impaling her and reached out to grab her. Catching her with one hand he looked up to see Rayleigh already battering around the next hag which had decided stairs were a better way of travel than flying. While holding her ground at the moment, the press of more of the hags was already forcing her back.

Another door slammed open from underneath them and Santi could hear Hana cursing as more hags flooded up the stairs. They were trapped between the two groups, their desire for speed over caution already biting them in their ass.

“Rayleigh, hold the line! Chloe, go back and help Hana. Retreat to the third floor!” Santi took over as his years of experience caught up to him. Tank stayed in the center of the formation with little room to maneuver in the tight confines of the stairwell. Chloe squeezed past him and turned to go down another flight.

“Daniel! We need a distraction. Meet us on the third when you can!” Santi had to hope the lead scout was skilled enough to stay out of the scrum that was becoming.

“Tank, help Rayleigh. I’m cutting our way down to the third!” Santi was grateful for his slighter build as he was able to push past the bigger man and look down the stairwell to where Chloe was holding off the press of attackers.

Holding the high ground she was swiping with her axe over and over again, relying on the skill to keep the huddle of hags at bay. Hana was leaning in the corner of the landing, clutching at a limp arm that was bathed in red blood. Santi threw his glowstick at the clutch of hags, the green light spinning end over end to smack one in the eye. Pure luck.

Chloe took one of their hands when they ventured too close and were too slow to retreat. Santi hopped on the railing, heart already beating a mile a minute as he threw himself off the rail and toward the heart of the cluster. For just a moment he felt like he was flying again, then his feet were crashing into a hag’s face and driving her down to the ground.

Losing his balance immediately, he threw himself down the stairs, spear stretched out in front of him. A hag took the spear through the head, her ugly drooping features frozen in shock as the speartip went through her eye and out the back of her skull. The momentum tossed Santi down, riding the now dead hag as they fell in a cluster of slashing claws and flailing limbs.

Grabbing at the daggers on his belt, Santi lashed out at everything around him. Bitter liquid painted his face and wormed its way past his lips. He snarled as he focused on the pain of digging claws, slashing out wherever the pain had originated from. The cluster of bodies around him were disentangling, but he was like a wolverine. He clung to them, too close for them to properly fight him.

Behind him he could hear the sounds of fighting as the last hag or two he hadn’t sent tumbling down the stairs were dispatched. Santi didn’t have time to pay attention to that fight as his own cluster gained their feet and made room. Two of their number stayed still on the ground, their bodies lacerated from dozens of wounds.

Santi felt blood as it dripped down his face. His left arm had deep cuts from claws and his right ankle felt off. He pushed all of that pain aside, his willpower allowing him to power himself at the rest of the coven.

Three had died on his charge down, two were above him, and four were left still blocking the way to safety. The sounds of the hags above him dying were clear, but the rest of the team were still valuable seconds away from reaching him. He couldn’t allow the hags time to regroup.

He threw his left dagger, his wounded arm already weakening. The blade flashed end over end once before sinking into the furthest on the right stomach. Santi was already leaping at them, his right arm swiping out to slash at the eyes of the closest hag.

The stench of old blood and unwashed bodies mingled in the tight confines as Santi lashed out around himself. He felt claws dig into his side and he screamed, but he kept attacking. He buried the knife in an eye and then was shoved backward just as another set of claws swiped at him. More blood blossomed on his shredded shirt and he cursed as he crashed back into the stairs.

Then Tank was over him, his heavy club smacking into the attacking hag. The taped bats struck hard enough the hunched over monster’s knees folded and Tank rose up to his full height for the final blow. Chloe blew past him, sliding along the wall to interpose herself to the two severely wounded hags. She finished them off in a series of fast chops while Tank crushed the skull of the hag in front of them.

“Drink up,” Tank ordered, the cold glass of a healing potion forced between Santi’s lips. He drank more on instinct than conscious thought as his body was growing numb. The taste of chocolate and honey flooded down his throat and he knew no more.