The sound of multiple screams egged him on as Tilly topped an upward bend in the path, emerging into a scene of fiery conflict. Seven or eight satyrs were arranged in a writhing circle around a little lump of clothing. A familiar blue fire was everywhere, originating from another confrontation still playing out twenty yards beyond the initial scene of destruction.
Tilly's eyes momentarily struggled to make sense of the twisting mass of rootlike appendages surging toward the source of the flames. In the middle of the inferno was Aurelia, the Priestess. Her whole body had been set alight as she pushed out wave after wave of fire.
“YOU THINK THIS IS ENOUGH TO STOP ME?” A screaming voice cajoled from the center of the mass of the root creature. It rolled forward, attempting to push through the waves of fire being released by Aurelia. The Priestess held up both hands in a warding posture screaming in effort. The roots were constantly being burned away but regrew at an equal rate offsetting the damage and allowing the thing to inch closer to the girl.
As soon as he registered the enemy, Tilly’s body whipped into action, engulfing his weapons with his mana and sending them whirling toward the enemy. They hit with wooden-sounding thunks, cutting deep into the cloth-bound center of the creature, and evoking a caterwauling scream, before the thing turned away from the previous object of its wrath.
“Hey! Overgrown shower clog! Roll your ass over here and try me on for size!” Tilly called, stepping over the pitifully mewling bodies on the path before him, to stand unobstructed before the thing. As the expanding mass of dark ropy roots rotated to face him, Tilly saw that nested in between the tightly bound layers of dirty clothing and writhing appendages, was a face. One rendered almost unrecognizable by the roots diving in and out of its flesh.
But the eyes, filled with icy hate, and brimming over with cold superiority, were a dead giveaway. Behind the creature, Aurelia collapsed, her fire sputtering out as the last of her mana was used up.
Level 56 Seed Corrupted Aristocrat
“Ah! The cockroach himself! What a happy circumstance to meet you here at my ascension. I am eager to snap your neck myself before I cut off this pitiful excuse for a Faction from its benefactor!” The speaker's original body seemed to be gone, now lost in layers of cloth suspended by hundreds of roots.
Tilly recalled his hatchets, trying not to reveal his dismay at how ineffective the attacks seemed to be. The place where his hatchets had lodged in the creature's side had burnt away and detached from the whole before quickly being replaced by new growth. If he was going to take this thing out, he would have to bypass the shifting mass of wooden roots and hit this guy in the face.
Trying to buy time, he called, “I didn’t see it before, but man, the resemblance is uncanny! You are the spitting image of your son. The apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree...” He spat between bellowing breaths.
Marcellus the Elder chuckled in reply, roots tearing up the ground in front of him as he advanced slowly, like a hundred-legged spider, “You did me a favor getting rid of that weakling… My true heir was always the eldest. After this, I’ll bring that pup to heel, and we will take our place at the front of this glorious revolution.”
Tilly peeked behind him considering a short retreat to draw this thing further away from Aurelia, and did a double take. The little lump in the middle of all the bodies had rolled over and was struggling to get to his feet.
Cog…
‘Shit, looks like it's here and now.’ He thought to himself desperately, turning back to the slow confident advance of the monstrosity. His patched-together internal healing felt like it was ripping at the seams, but Tilly bore the sensation with a scowl, shifting his weight to try something else.
“Ah, how the bravado of the ant dies before my stomping hoof.” Marcellus the Elder sneered out spitfully. Tilly responded by spinning in place, releasing and calling back his hatchets in a fiery whirlwind of rapid attacks and feints to try and make it past the layered guard. But the curtain of roots rose seamlessly, absorbing the hits accompanied by small blue explosions, before falling away and being replaced.
Even the lingering embers that would typically do damage over time were shed along with the dead roots, removing their effect on the whole. As disturbing as Marcellus’ new form was, he was now a perfect counter to Tilly’s burst damage AoE and damage over time. Expulsion would not work and neither would his thrown axes, not until he got past that guard…
The roots parted mockingly before him in a twisted game of peekaboo. Marcellus’ leering face peeked out from in between his myriad appendages and he crooned, “Let me show you what true power feels like!”
Then almost moaning in ecstasy, he shed any guise of sanity, and the many feelers of his new form quivered in anticipation and suddenly shot toward his prey. Tilly's weapons twitched, trying in vain to figure out how to get out of this one.
His only chance was to get as close as possible, and activate an Expulsion, hopefully before Marcellus raised his guard back up. Tilly adopted a mask of hopelessness, something that wasn’t much of a challenge in his current circumstance, and dropped his hatchets in defeat. Marcellus’ root-pierced visage pulled up short of his charge and paused to lean toward Tilly through his curtain of defense, black ichor dribbling like drool from a too-wide smile.
Internally, Tilly steeled himself… Kid or no kid, as soon as that thing grabbed him, he was going to activate his new title, [All or Nothing] in tandem with Flame Expulsion and see if he couldn’t take this bastard out.
Then the trees all around them groaned and the ground undulated like a quivering mass of jelly. For a moment, Tilly was afraid of some sort of new Ability from his opponent, but Marcellus’ leer fell into a grimace, and he plunged more roots into the ground to stabilize himself.
Tilly’s Mana Pathways lit up as he prepared to take advantage of the surprise when the surrounding flora erupted in a flurry of growth. The ground all around the Seed Corrupted Aristocrat exploded as roots native to this mountain burrowed in amongst their invading counterparts, and tree limbs shot in to tangle the floating curtain of appendages that fanned out around Marcellus the Elder’s transformed body.
Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.
“What is this?!” He cried trying to pull away from the entanglement. Then the combined force of all the new growth simultaneously went taut, pulling away all of his additional protections, and leaving his center mass exposed.
“Arrrggg!” He cried out in impotent frustration and the beginnings of fear.
A strained voice rose from behind Tilly, ringing with a finality that sealed Marcellus’ fate, “Get away from my kids, you piece of shit…”
Not one to waste the opportunity before him, Tilly shifted the Title's focus to his first and simplest Ability. He inflamed the hatchet in his right hand with 20-30 times the normal amount of Mana and an immense WUMPH went off at his side, as he felt the very nature of his soul-bound weapon momentarily shift in response to contain the new power. Tilly lunged forward, swinging his weapon in a simple downward chop, delivering a blue solar flare-like strike into his opponent's face.
For just a moment, Marcellus the Elder’s corruption-infested expression was brightly illuminated in stark blues, a caricature of shock before the concussive blast of the overcharged Ability's impact turned Tilly’s world white and blew him back through the air. A series of branches attempted to arrest his flight, which ended decisively as he hit the thick trunk of a tree. He fell to the ground, his body finally giving out after hours of relentless abuse.
There on the ground, he groaned incoherently, trying to muster up the strength to get an arm under him, as knife-like ringing cut through the center of his head. The blast had addled him and his thoughts fell through his mental fingers like sand as he fought to impose his will on his disjointed extremities. They refused to answer his confused mental urgings, and he lay there in a heap like a puppet with cut strings.
“Amelia… Temple…” He muttered to himself, his lips dry and cracked as half of his face dug into the ground he had collapsed in. His thoughts swam in lazy circles, utterly refusing to form of a linear plan.
At the periphery of his awareness, many small hands grabbed his limp body, pulling him up and dragging him forward, advancing arduously up the mountain path. Tilly's consciousness flashed in and out as unknown Debuffs fought against his will to stay awake. His Regen struggled to balance out the toll they demanded as his battered body clung to consciousness with the rigid stubbornness of a two-year-old.
Blink
Some children moved past, holding Cog’s small, weak, body between them.
Blink
A young Minotauress dragged a tangle of vines and branches larger than her body up the obstacle-strewn path. She was crying and others walked behind the mass of greenery, lifting and pushing where they could.
Blink
High-pitched voices argued about what to do next as an ornate wooden entrance stood open before the group. Then they all went silent as a groggy voice muttered,
“Oh Cog! Are you OK?”
Blink
Warmth flooded Tilly’s body, knitting together ligaments and muscles that had been operating on sheer will for far too long. The muddled soup that was his mind clicked back into operation and his eyes snapped open.
He was surrounded by the same kids he had seen outside Amelia’s shop months ago. At the front of the group stood a frazzled Aurelia, tears streaking down her face, and behind her rested a huge messy tangle of still-growing plants.
Tilly’s head looked around in confusion, finding himself in the crystal chamber of the Temple, its steady glow offering comfort to the distraught group.
“I'm sorry Mr. Tillman! This isn’t something I can fix. I can barely sense her in the middle of all that strange Mana.” Aurelia cried, waving historically at what used to be Amelia. The whole of the situation crashed into Tilly’s rebooting mind and he lurched to his feet, his body wobbling uncertainly.
“Come on, we have to get her to the central chamber.” He said confidently, not at all sure if that was all that they needed to do, but hoping desperately nonetheless. He stumbled over to the car-sized mass, and grabbed onto a few sturdy-looking branches, hauling it toward the inner hallway, which was just barely wide enough to accommodate Amelia’s increased size.
He groaned in effort as his healing body attempted to leverage the full weight of his newly increased Strength. The children quickly scampered in around him, grabbing anything they could and lending their collective effort to the endeavor. The mass began to move, scraping along the walls and floor as they pulled and pushed for all they were worth.
After a long thirty yards, they arrived at the central chamber. The fit through the last door was the tightest yet and the effort to get the tangled knot of vegetation through caused the whole group to tumble out into the slightly sloped chamber, as they pulled her free of the impediment.
Tilly who had been hauling backward, pulling with both hands from an almost seated position landed flat on his back as the resistance vanished and Amelia’s flora-choked form entered the central chamber of the Temple.
A Roaring flash erupted from the altar in response to their arrival and Tilly, from his position on the ground facing Amelia, saw a subtle green flash answer it, originating from the center of the mass.
A jet of blue fire shot out from the altar, and the vegetation all around Amelia began to wither and die, meeting the flame as dry tinder, ready to be consumed. Tilly almost cried out in distress before seeing the flame immediately pull back as the vegetation was consumed, leaving an unharmed Amelia surrounded by a cloud of ash.
Her eyes opened, and she smiled in relief as green motes of energy so potent that they set Tilly’s teeth on edge emerged from her core, and drifted by him toward the waiting Flame. He turned to watch along with every other person in the chamber as music bubbled up all around them, interspersed with the gentle shivering of the Flame on the stone surface.
As soon as they arrived, the motes orbited the flame, shifting in time with the melody that was just beyond Tilly’s ability to comprehend. As they drifted nearer the song built, flooding the chamber with an energy so rich in possibility and potential that Tilly felt his very soul start to vibrate in harmony with the Song.
Tilly saw a thousand ends and ten thousand new beginnings as all of the universe expanded in an ever-evolving pattern of sound and light.
Amidst the crescendo, a small ember, brighter even than the surrounding Flame, rose up from the center of the altar. The green dancing motes swung around in their orbit and crashed into the ember one by one, combining to make something new, adding to the depth of its multi-hued vibrancy.
Tilly’s next breath seemed to take a lifetime as he watched the motes finish joining with the central ember transforming into a tiny perfect Seed. The riot of energy flooding the chamber dampened and steadied along with the Seed’s formation and the urgent vibrancy of the moment faded, eliciting a sigh of loss and relief from its audience.
The seed floated back down into the flame and slowly cracked open, shooting forth a delicate sprout with two little leaves. Then as if the entire event had been a whisper designed to draw in their attention, a booming notification exploded out from the altar in a tidal wave of green and blue energy.
Congratulations, You have obtained the patronage of Origin’s Bloom and completed a Hidden Quest.
Quest Rewards Incoming…