They started with the jarlion as it was the easier work of the two and less smelly. Thorren also reasoned they should let the Grumpbeing air out before entering it again to harvest its valuable organs. Wouldn’t really work—the insides of the Grumpbeing would still be smelly later, if not worse—but Elian knew Thorren was just psyching himself up and steeling his stomach.
The Rakhonite may have a tough appearance but has a selectively squeamish side. Kudos to him for digging out Elian despite it.
“Storm God’s grace, this cuts better than my old knife.” Thorren separated the still-useable crystals from the jarlion’s half-minced corpse. “This is my old knife—what’s left of it.” He held his broken hunting knife wrapped in Aether to reform the blade.
“I’m amazed it’s working this well.” Elian’s eyes locked on his construct around the knife. All of his concentration not spent on talking was used for Aether Magic. “Hard to maintain its form because you’re the one moving it, not me. Very different from controlling a construct in the air. But I’m getting the hang of—oops.”
The Aether blade shattered as Thorren tried to dig in between a crystal and the jarlion’s spin. Aether flocked back to the broken end of the hunting knife, and Thorren resumed his work. This was the tenth or eleventh time the construct broke.
“Keeping it sharp is the most difficult part,” Elian said, becoming quicker at reconstructing the blade. “I still can’t make it strong while thin.”
“A nifty skill you’ve learned for yourself,” Thorren said. “I will endeavor to learn it likewise. It’s reminiscent of the Auric Blade Arts, though those Blademasters use their Energy to make weapons.”
They didn’t get many good crystals from the jarlion’s body. Most were broken, some even pulverized, and would be considered rejects because contaminants like the Grumpbeing’s saliva and jarlion’s blood had entered it. The dwarves might buy reject crystals to ground them up for their ironboomer shells, but the Ironkiln Mountains were supremely distant and shut tight to any humans.
The Grumpbeing was next. Elian shared a fraction of Thorren’s hesitance for this one. It was going to be a damn dirty job.
Thorren wrapped a piece of cloth around the lower half of his face. “More impressive than your feat killing this fearsome beast,” he said, his voice stifled by the cloth, “is your commendable endurance of the stench. This is far from that of field dressing and quartering a feldeer.”
“The aura-emitting organ, as well as the fear crystal—I don’t know their actual names—are worth a small fortune. Everything we’ve gone through will be a waste if we don’t harvest them.”
“Everything you have gone through,” Thorren corrected him. “A sense of shame cloaks me. I cannot in good conscience claim all of the proceeds of the loot we’d sell. Moreso, given the value you estimated for it. You take a two-thirds since it is your kill.”
Elian thought of declining the offer because he did promise Thorren would have all other than the Spectral Fairy Azalea. But he did kill the Grumpbeing and saved Thorren from it, so he shouldn’t be ashamed to claim a share as custom.
Also, he needed money to buy gear again.
None of his Curses had a line about his equipment getting destroyed all the time. But there should be. He lost too many within the span of a few weeks to be a coincidence. Maybe Lady Fortuna herself was throwing spikes in his way as a prank.
“We split it,” Elian said. “You’re the one harvesting them. Plus, you saved me from inside the Grumpbeing.”
“Same as you saved me from this becoming food for this terrible beast. Dare I say I’m not as inedible as you. I can’t bear to imagine Nelisha’s anguish if I don’t return, my remains nowhere to be found, digested by a Grumpbeing. Furthermore, I couldn’t have known about harvesting its organs without your guidance.
I also can’t harvest this without you, Elian thought, keeping it to himself. “We split it, and that’s that,” he firmly said. “Time spent discussing this is better spent digging out our loot. Other monsters might wander this way.”
The aura organ and the fear crystal were found in the Grumpbeing’s brain—Elian remembered some pages of monster biology books he had read. The Tribulation smashed down the Grumpbeing’s innards; their loot should be safe up inside its exceptionally tough skull. And Grumpbeings were sturdy creatures. Even Thorren’s Tribulation might not crack the skull if it hit from the top.
Shooting a Tribulation into its mouth was the only way Elian could’ve killed it. The internal-injury-choking plan had a low chance of succeeding now he had time to think about it.
He expected Thorren to bring up his double Tribulation. So far, no word. The Rakhonite was probably still incapacitated by the Grumpbeing’s shout by then.
“We don’t have the tools or the strength to break through its skull,” Elian said. “I don’t even think the Aether knife could cut its skin. But we have another way—we go in from the bottom. There’s a hole at the base of the skull where the spinal cord, blood vessels, all those things pass through. Not sure if it’s big enough for you to enter, but the bone is surely thinner there. Can just chip it away.”
“Why am I the one to enter it?” Thorren said, his voice a pitch higher toward the end. “I, uh, I’m not one to shy back from a challenge, but this is—”
“You’re holding the knife. I’ll turn it into a shovel or a chisel later, whichever you might need. Could also be a hammer too. I can maintain the construct, though it is out of sight, and you dig with it. It’s teamwork.”
Apparent from Thorren’s face that he’d rather be on another team, but he uttered no complaints. They entered the Grumpbeing again, removing pieces of its teeth to use as walls for the tunnel they’d dig. Finding the base of the skull was easy enough. They followed one of the ribs of the Grumpbeing to its spine and traced the spine to the base of the skull. Good thing they didn’t need to do much remodeling for Thorren to pass through.
As Thorren tunneled into the brain, Elian scooped out the mushy matter to keep the space open. Best not think much of what they were doing—Elian kept repeating this to Thorren. But the Rakhonite barely listened to his advice, vomiting thrice during their excavations.
They emerged from the Grumpbeing almost an hour later, triumphant and stinky, the aura organ and fear crystal secured. Chitinous creatures feeding on the carcass greeted them with apprehensive twitching of their antennae.
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“Scram, you wretched critters!” Thorren threw his broken knife at one of the dog-sized bugs, hitting the joint of its head and body right into the thin gap, instantly killing it. He then dropped to his knees and vomited—it was the sixth time already.
The rest of the bugs scampered away.
Elian waited for Thorren to finish his business, looking away to pretend nothing was happening. “Not all men can say they’ve been inside a Grumpbeing’s skull,” Elian said as Thorren stood up.
“Men shouldn’t be inside the brain of such a foul creature,” Thorren harshly said, wiping his mouth.
“But someone has to harvest these,” Elian said, nodding down at the warm organs he cradled in his arms. “Now, let’s find that stream to wash them.”
“And ourselves,” Thorren added.
Removing bits of brain and sludge, Elian found that the aura organ was damaged. It was supposed to be two kidney-shaped parts, each the size of his fist, wrapped by a network of veins. But this particular one had its left side fifty percent smaller than its right. And that wasn’t the only thing wrong with it.
“Look at these lesions… scarred tissue,” Elian said, pointing them out to Thorren. “This wasn’t caused by your digging or my Tribulation. Old injuries. Maybe a disease? This was why the range of its aura was so small.”
“A disease, you say?” Thorren nodded. “It might be caused by the dark miasma of the Forbidden Temple.”
A discount here and there to entice buyers, Elian was certain he could sell the damaged aura organ with Borlen’s help. Fortunately, the Grumpbeing’s fear crystal was unblemished. The bluish surface of the cube-shaped form reflected the clear night sky above. This would fetch a very high price. Elian imagined himself buying more equipment, only for them to be destroyed again.
They set up camp about ten minutes away from the stream in a small clearing under an aging gelborn tree. Too close to the water, and they might meet some of the animals coming for a drink. Thorren started a fire by rubbing two lava shards together and cooked the faeboar meat Elian brought in a small pot.
“Nelisha made me bring vegetables.” Thorren chucked the ingredients he cut with an Aether blade into the soup. “Seeing your construction earlier helped me make mine. It is indeed a nifty skill.”
“You can make all sorts of things with Aether,” Elian replied. “Could even be a house. Live in an Aether house with Aether tables and chairs. Every tool you’ll use. Clothes too. Only missing would be food and water. But you can hunt with an Aether-made bow.”
Thorren laughed as he stirred the pot. “Is this an echo of Nelisha I hear? She made the same argument why I should stop doing the Tribulations.”
“Why did you choose to become a Penitent?” Elian asked. “Is there any other reason than earning money and gaining followers?”
Like Jadewell, Thorren had fought alongside him. This could be the standard test before he’d see if a person was a potential ally. Elian gauged that after their brush with the Grumpbeing, he could push personal questions. Thorren could tell the truth or lie; either way, Elian wouldn’t prod further than necessary.
Thorren stared up at the stars for several seconds. The steam from the pot spiraled upwards. “I suppose… I wanted to see for myself what prodded my father and uncle to become a Penitent. The Tribulations claimed them, leaving behind their families. Was it worth it? Worth what? What is this it?”
Elian sensed Thorren had something more to say, so he waited.
Thorren shrugged and looked down, pretending to stoke the flames though it already roared strong as could be. “If my words sound like inane ramblings, that’s because they are. I haven’t organized my thoughts about this yet. I tread this path because I feel I should. The answers should be somewhere ahead. How far? I don’t know.”
Hearing this, Elian abandoned his plans of telling Thorren about the future.
Not because he thought Thorren wouldn’t believe him, but because it was very likely he would… and do something crazy. Too volatile of an ally. Thorren was hurting from the loss of his family members and wanted to make sense of the world. The truth Elian carried would certainly give Thorren a much-needed meaning to cling onto, but likely at the expense of his cousins.
Every human should be concerned about the Giant invasion. It was everyone’s fight. But each one also had a fight of their own—Thorren’s duty right now was to his family. If Jadewell was troubled by his words, who knew what the effect on Thorren would be?
Someday, perhaps. Not now.
“What’s bothering you, friend?” Thorren asked. “Unsatisfied with my story?”
“Not that. It’s this plant symbiont.” Elian rubbed his right arm. He had removed the bandages because they were soaked in Grumpbeing saliva. “Want to see it? It has grown a lot.”
“Erm… I can’t say that I’m interested. But after enduring the insides of a Grumpbeing, it’s relatively tame in comparison. Fine, I’ll behold this pet parasite of yours.”
Elian presented his arm. The plant had fully opened its seed, the casing shriveling as it dried. It had rooted firmly, with several tendrils piercing his much-hardened flesh. From the center of the web of roots rose a single tendril, a green wriggling thing about four inches long.
This was the first time Elian had seen it. Curious, he willed it to move right. It wriggled a bit before bending the way he envisioned it. He tried the left side. A bit of delay, but it also followed his thoughts.
“Are you controlling it?” Thorren sat beside him for a closer look.
“I think… yes. This is the first time this happened.” Elian opened the magical display of the plant symbiont.
Guardian Exactor Vine | Plant Symbiote | Level:1
Health: 110/110
Energy: 30/30
ATTRIBUTES:
Attack Power: 11
Magic Power: 11
Armor: 61
Magic Resilience: 11
TRAITS:
Host Attribute Absorption – Absorb (150) Attribute points from the host and gain a third of it.
“Oh, it’s leveling up now,” Elian said. “The experience I got from killing the Grumpbeing must’ve pushed it to awaken.”
It appeared that the Guardian Exactor Vine’s own attributes grew slowly as it leveled up. The bulk of its stats would be coming from the host. Given that Elian’s Attack Power, Magic Power, and Magic Resilience had been zeroed by his Curses, the symbiont could only absorb his Armor. That meant it would be weak in all aspects other than tanking physical attacks—it couldn’t do that now because it was just level one and didn’t have its hardening skill yet. But someday, it would.
Elian would pay with his Armor for a tanky pet that had lots of utility. It was a good trade in his eyes, especially the healing part which Gideon showcased. That ability would probably show up when the symbiont was mature.
Though he understood why the symbiont wasn’t attractive to most people, the attribute absorption thing would be a huge setback for the average person lacking the insane multipliers Elian had. A summoner might be okay with sacrificing his attributes for the symbiont, but he probably had better choices than this one.
“Fascinating…” Thorren said. “And not any less disturbing than the first I’ve seen it. This flower we aim for—it is to make a growth potion for your pet parasite, right?”
“Yep. I hope we’ll find lots tomorrow. I want this to grow fast to develop all its skills soon. I’ll take the first watch.” He’d use the time to train with his symbiont and progress Aether construction simultaneously.