“The fall of the city of Burlile was a testament to the strength of dungeons. Just rated at a new grade five, its monster break consisted of all manner of fire-like monsters that had a cascading effect on the nearby beast. While the monsters themselves were tough to put down, the real challenge was the lack of any game to hunt, the destruction of the crops right before harvest, and the burning of the nearby forest. The city was left with hardly anything to trade or eat.” - Dungeon Analytics, Page 34.
Aster
Fighting ten monsters at once that were trying to rip you open wasn't easy or fun. The fact that they seemed to have no regard for their own life made it all the harder to avoid their strikes while landing one of my own strong enough to injure them, but on the plus side, they kept getting in each other's way.
I ducked the first swing of the sharp claws before taking a step back and bending away as another of the beasts tried to grab my arm but overreached and stumbled. As a response, I punched out in a side strike at its head, the sharpened scales biting deep into the skin, then bone, but not enough to crack the skull open. My retaliation left me open enough for a creature charging on my side to get into range. Stalker’s Movement was out of the question; there wasn't enough time for the second or so needed to charge the skill and still leave enough time to get out of the way.
As it collided, grabbing me with its outstretched arms partly wrapping around me, I felt the impact take all of the air out of my lungs. Letting its larger body carry me out of the group of beasts, I grimaced and grunted. The sharp pain of the short claws easily parting the leather and digging into my sides sent fire burning into my blood.
Reaching up with one hand to force its head up and stop it from biting down, I gasped for air and started to repeatedly slam my fist into the furred neck, my gloves returning the favor, tearing a jagged gash and letting its lifeblood flow out as it convulsed and went limp. Letting the body drop, I backstepped several times, narrowly avoiding the swipes from the beast that had followed. With a snarl, it lunged in for a bite. Out of mostly reflex, I reached out and grabbed its bottom jaw with my hand and winced as it bit down. The scales on the top and bottom of the glove cracked but held, and I grimaced at the painful pressure. I pulled back my free fist and, using my control of its mouth, bent it to the side and brought my knuckles down right on its eye. The beast let out a scratching whine, but another two blows silenced it, and I let it drop to the ground before finally looking up and getting ready to use the opening of distance to get away.
I found myself pausing as I looked at the eight other remaining best. Not the first time, I felt my lack of any fundamental combat skills and felt a frustration build up, but just as quickly I let it disappear. I'd fix that as soon as I could. There was a positive in all of this, a small but significant one. For some reason, all of the beasts of Salem I'd killed didn't go over level eighty-seven, and a quick identity showed that the rest were equally as low level for a grade two. It was strange, but it meant that unless they had high-grade classes, I outnumbered all of them in a few attributes, most importantly dexterity, the reason I was still probably alive. If it were multiple single fights, it would have been easy to kill all of them, or I thought it might be. I was tempted to use the opening and leave the area now and come back in a bit to grab my bow, then pick the rest of them off, but I held off as I stared In disbelief at one of the beasts in the back. They didn't seem to be approaching like the rest. It held my bow in one of its large paw-like hands; the bow was facing backward, but it was holding it.
That was bullshit, and I pointed an angry finger at the beast snarling, “If you break it, I'm going to keep you alive while I pull out each of your claws, dungeon monster or not.”
In a backstep with a glance over my shoulder, I infused Stalker’s Movement with the needed mana and activated. The move gave the necessary room between me and the creatures to let me think as they started a dash through the trees.
I spent a few seconds glancing at the notification in the corner of my vision.
[Mark of Salem - 3/10 - This mark shows you have been attacked by a beast. Each mark you gain slows down mana and stamina regeneration. When mana and stamina drop to zero, if you have the max marks, you will gain the Curse of Salem.]
I hadn't been paying attention but assumed that the bite hadn't counted towards the cu4se mark since it hadn't broken skin, not that it wouldn't add to my bruises. I watched the beast approach, wondering how many times I could use Stalker’s Movement before my mana got too low. With three marks, I could feel the sluggishness of the regeneration. It was a weird feeling that I found hard to explain. It was an inner flow that matched pace with my heartbeat, which I always seemed to have access to but only felt when I focused on it. Doing so now, I could tell the flow was slower but hadn't stopped.
Taking in a breath, I got ready to use Stalker’s Movement again. Spreading the beast out would be the best idea. I could take them out one-on-one at that point. If they didn't spread out over the chase, I'd have to think of something else. Wrinkling my nose, I heaved a sigh. If I had the ability to kill them in a hit or make my hits faster, tearing through the group would be easy, but none of my skills could do that. My brain paused on the thought like a piece of wood fitting perfectly into the right as I realized I'd been missing a critical factor in my fighting.
If I wasn't pressed for time and my hands weren't covered in blood, I would have facepalmed. I did have a skill for movement, specifically for momentum, and I was actively using it. In fact, I used it to fight with my bow and keep out of range. Hell, I'd even used the skill aggressively to knock down Josh in a spar not too long ago. If I just used the skill when throwing a punch, I'd do a lot more than a normal strike if it worked the way I thought.
Eight was still a high order of beasts to fight at once, and I wanted to space out them as far as possible without getting my mana too low, but if I could fight more than one, that wouldn't be as big of an issue.
Turning around with a smile on my face, I leaned into Stalker’s Movement and darted off.
I made a straight line through the forest and roughly aimed for the center, towards the village, but I still had to make a slight turn at the last moment. The trip took under ten minutes from where I was, and the howling behind me started up but grew distant. The sound wasn't as nerve-racking as it'd been when dozens had taken up the call. I took off my bag, leaning it on a village building wall, and moved away. The bag was already torn from my tumble out of the tree and the fight but was still surprisingly intact, and I didn't want to damage it anymore. While I waited, letting the beast close in, I looked down at the holes in my leather and suit underneath. The repair runes would take care of the damage over a long enough time. Still, it spoke to the fact Umbra had been right about using her scales to make stronger protection. I wasn't a proper archer and didn't have a whole team or party backing me up, and even if most of my fights were with Umbra, I'd still be at risk for attack. Looking down at my left hand, I looked at the cracked scales and bent my hand, watching one fall off. The glove would have to be fixed as well since it lacked any repair or mending runes.
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As the howling grew closer, I got ready. There wasn't any preparation, but unless I wanted to wait for my lower-than-half mana pool to regenerate on top of a stone, I'd have to be quick with each kill. That was if they did spread out; if not, it was going to be a long day. I was really relying on the dungeon's influence and the drive for the monsters to kill me over intelligence.
The first two Salem beasts broke the treeline in long strides, the eyes already locked on me, and the long muzzles pulled back in snarls. I wanted a moment to see if any others would appear, but after a handful of seconds, I felt a grin spread on my face and darted forward to meet them. The use of Stalker’s Movement to close the distance was unnecessary, but bringing my fist up under the jaw with the speed of the forward dash and another moment of pouring mana into Stalker’s Movement resulted in a snapping noise loud enough for it to echo slightly. The kill notification was enough for me to turn to the other beast, who was still trying to face me, and with a duck to avoid the wild swing, I moved into range and swung out with a fist aimed at his upper chest. The punch was reinforced by Stalker’s Movement and carried me forward more than I thought it would. The sound of a series of cracking bones and the indent and puncture holes from my fist and sharpened scales had the beast falling backward. The second death notification was a few moments in coming as the beast clawed at the spot, but it was all I needed to know that I'd hit something vital.
The fight had to have only lasted seconds, but in the process, I realized that if I wasn't planning on getting away from something, Stalkers Movement only had the moments it took to charge the skill before I had enough of a build-up and could react. I knew the way I was using the skill wasn't the intended use and that there were probably other skills that had a much better efficiency or high impact that didn't require nearly forty mana per throw, but I was more than happy.
The next group of two that shows up ended almost the exact same way as the first, except for a poor dodge and receiving a fourth mark for the Salem curse. I was forced to be more careful when the third group showed up, a group of three of the beasts. Taking out the first base in the same way as my other first strikes, I used the chance to back up and give myself space instead of going for a second kill. The moment of surprise let me use Stalker's Movement to back up and then darted forward to take out another, and with only one left, it was easy to put down. I heaved for breath, looking at the scattered corpses, and nodded. Seven dead, one left, and looking up at the sounds of leaves crunching, I watched as it lopped into the clearing and felt my smile drop. It was still holding my bow, but this time, it was held in its jaws. I felt my eye twitch as I looked at the bow, able to pick out the indents of each place a tooth had been. Oh, it was on.
Taking a step forward and turning it into a sprint, I didn't use Stalker’s Movement to instantly close the distance and decided to wait for both of us to get close enough before using the skill as a strike. As we collided on the field, my swing didn't aim to snap its neck, primarily for fear of damaging or even breaking my bow, and instead decided to go for a leg. I ducked under the first swing of the claws as it tried to bat me to the side. Then, ducking lower, I brought my sharpened knuckles into a strike aimed at his right leg below the knee.
The skin and muscle split, but to my astonishment, the beast's bone held under the strike, and my fist bounced off the white bone, the reverberation traveling up my arm. That surprise turned to pain as a paw-like hand grabbed my arm in an iron grip and jerked me up to meet its face. It had dropped the bow and seemed ready to have me as a meal instead. I let out a grunt as its claws dug into my wrist, and with my free hand, I threw another strike aimed at its approaching mouth.
It wasn't a good strike. The punch wasn't empowered by any active skills, but anyone getting hit on the nose knew how painful broken cartilage and blocked sinuses were. Its growl turned to a coughing grunt, but it kept its grip, retaliating with an open-handed slap to the side of my head that I had no way to block. The claws scraped against my ear and cheek, and I wondered if bringing in my helmet would have been a good idea as my brain rattled around.
I was quickly brought back to the present as the arm held by the beast was jolted to the side and down. I hit the ground with a wince, and a shadow covered the fake sun. Looking up at the gleaming teeth and beady eyes full of excitement above me as it bit down only a foot away, I jerked my free hand up and reached, gripping a fist full of its fur and skin at the bottom of its jaw, jerking its mouth up and closed as I readied a strike with Stalker’s Movement, but instead of using my hands since both were occupied, I used both feet and kicked upwards into its chest. This time, the crunch of its ribs was more than satisfying, and its panting growls as it tried to get its head down turned into a whine, then cut out into a wheeze. As its grip loosened, I pulled my hand free and scrambled back as it collapsed. I sat there as I watched the life leak out of the monster's eyes. After a long second and the kill notification, I looked at the mark and quest screen
[Mark of Salem - 6/10 - This mark shows you have been attacked by a beast. Each mark you gain slows down mana and stamina regeneration. When mana and stamina drop to zero, if you have the max marks, you will gain the Curse of Salem.]
I was cutting it close and had been way too arrogant against the last monster. If it had used its other arm to attack instead of propping itself up, it would have turned out a lot worse, not that six marks was good. Rubbing the side of my face, I winced at the long, painful lines the claws had made. The shallow holes on my sides and now on my wrist ached as well, still trickling blood and dying the nearby leather an unpleasant purple as it mixed with the blue dye. All of the wounds needed to be tended to, but first, the quest that was sitting in my notifications and its updated text.
[Salem Dungeon Quest, Floor Two - Part 1 of 2 - Town Hunt - A witch is changing the villagers into monsters. Stop the disease spreading before it claims you to draw the witch out. Monsters on the floor defeated 35/35. Complete] [Reward: Appearance of the second-floor boss.] [Party Skill Reward: Bottle of Amber Moss.]
[Salem Dungeon Quest, Floor Two - Part 2 of 2 - Burn the Witch - With her minions dead, the Witch has decided to make an appearance in the middle of the village, looking for new souls to add to her mass and people to alter into beasts. Time until boss: 59 Minutes 22 Seconds. Witch defeated 0/1] [Reward: Witch’s Clove] [Party Skill Reward: Unknown]
I grimaced and looked behind me at the village buildings, wondering if, when it appeared, it would leave the middle of the village. Deciding to be on the safe side, I got up with a groan and looked at the bodies around me. I wanted all thirty-five of the cores they would have, and that meant working fast. Moving to my pack, I rustled around. It took a moment, but I withdrew the thick cloth patches that were under a love of bread, and wiping off the crumbs, I pressed one to my side after pulling off a protective film that covered it. The cloth lacked any runes but was made for the purpose of stopping bleeding. The sticky substance around the edge was a mix of sap and starch, and as I applied two of the patches, I found myself grateful that Umbra had insisted I ask and add them to the bag of supplies before I left. Apparently, they were common enough in military camps, and while it wouldn't help heal the wound, it would help the blood clot. With constitution as one of my lowest stats, only just above two hundred now, even with as shallow as some of the holes were, it would be a bit before it started to heal on its own. I didn't bother applying a patch to my cheek. The long cuts there had already stopped bleeding.
Once I was ready, I withdrew the knife and set to work opening up the chest of each of the monsters and withdrawing the beast cores. Three of them were crushed, and only fine dust, but the five others were intact, and adding them to my bag, I made my way to the place where most of the bodies would be in the forest. I decided not to use Stalker’s Movement, instead letting my mana regenerate. With six marks towards the curse, unless I could only watch the slow rate at which my mana rose with disappointment. I realized the second floor of Salem was dangerous in an odd way. While the beasts were weak and especially so on their own, there was no time given to slow down or rest, with each of the beasts knowing where you were and only an hour given until the boss's appearance. When I added that and the curse marks each beast could give me, it painted a slow death by lack of mana and stamina. As it stood, my stamina was fine, sitting at an easy nine hundred and fifty, around half in total, but my mana had been all. Still, it almost dried out during the last fight and was sitting at a low one hundred and twenty-seven and only going up about four points a minute, definitely not an alarming rate but compared to my normal ten points before the mark it was low. So I'd only be at a little under half my mana in an hour. Tilting my head, I looked down at my bow, rubbing a finger along its edge. It wasn't as badly damaged as I'd thought, but the seven bite marks had me unhappy. On the brighter side of things, the witch would be the last monster before I could leave the dungeon. All I could do was hope that the grade three monster would prove to be an easy fight for me.