Chapter One Hundred Seventy: ‘Hold, and achieve beyond thyself...’
Things were not going well for Hector. The treasure in this room had not helped. Even after having Garovel examine it all, Hector was no better off than before.
And the worm didn’t stop. It came crashing after him like a tidal wave of sludge at every opportunity. It was all Hector could do to just stay ahead of the damn thing.
Problem was, there was nowhere to go.
Up and around and back down again, iron platform after iron platform, the whole process had quickly become cyclical while Hector tried to buy himself the time to come up with a new plan. A plan that didn’t involve fighting it at close range, preferably.
But more and more, that didn’t seem like it was going to happen. Sooner or later, he would have to take that risk. Whether it was because he actively chose to do so or because he screwed up somehow and let the worm catch up to him--it was going to happen, he felt. And he was beginning to think that, of those two possibilities, the prior would be better. If nothing else, attacking the worm head on at least sounded more attractive than falling on his ass and getting smothered.
How to approach it, though? It would be best if he could create an opening for himself, somehow. If he could distract the beast for even just a split second, then he could test out the Moon’s Wrath on it without risking being eaten.
An ideally placed iron platform at just the right moment could throw the worm off balance. In theory.
It would have to be precise, though. If it didn’t have enough mass to it or if it struck at the wrong angle or the wrong moment... that would get ugly. That might even be the end for him and Garovel both, right then and there.
Great.
He needed to consult Garovel before committing to something so stupid.
‘Garovel, should I just charge in and attack this fuckin’ thing?’
‘Ah... aha... hmm.’
‘Garovel, that’s not helpful.’
‘I’d rather you didn’t do that, I think.’
‘Then what DO I do? This is getting us nowhere.’ He launched up and away on yet another iron platform, annihilating his earlier one in the meantime.
‘Well, I think the safest course of action is to just keep on going exactly as you are and wait for either Diego or Zeff to rescue us.’
Hector could see logic in that plan. But he could see flaws in it, too. ‘We don’t know that they WILL rescue us, Garovel. For all we know, they could be in even worse trouble than we are, right now.’
The worm splattered against the ceiling like a bubbling geyser, and sludge shot out in all directions.
Hector was ready, though. He could sense every gelatinous chunk flying his way and bounded out of their path while simultaneously raising iron walls behind him for added protection. The sludge knocked against each one with enough force to knock them all over, but that was fine. As long as none of it touched him, he didn’t--
There was some on his arm.
He tried to materialize it away from himself, to fling it off of him with rapid iron spikes, but the iron wouldn’t grow. The field density of the worm’s soul or ardor or whatever the hell the thing had--it was too strong, Hector concluded.
So he took the opposite approach and did a swirling, haphazard somersault through the air while annihilating the iron around his arm.
It worked as Hector had hoped it would. The sludge went flying. And so did he, over the edge of the chamber’s third floor.
The Scarf of Amordiin was helpful here. He caught himself with a tall spiral of iron and slid all the way down to the bottom. It was a technique he’d used before--one that he was beginning to think he should give a name to.
The cacophonous splash of more sludge erased that thought from his head, however, and he had to launch himself away again.
‘In fairness,’ said Garovel, ‘I really doubt they’re in more trouble than we are, right now. I’m not sure ANYONE is, quite frankly.’
‘Still doesn’t mean they’re going to show up and save us,’ said Hector, remaking his missing chunk of armor. ‘We need a better plan than that.’
‘Hector, there may not BE one. Not to be negative, but we’re pretty fucked.’
Hector might’ve sighed, if he could’ve spared the breath for it.
‘Really, though, you’re doin’ a great job, buddy. I’m plenty impressed, already. You just focus on keeping us alive for as long as you possibly can, alright?’
And Hector wanted to argue, but he stopped himself, because he noticed something different in Garovel’s soundless voice. Something off. A slight tremble. And a bit too much of a lilt, maybe, almost as if...
As if Garovel were trying not to sound frightened.
The worm arrived again with a boom and interrupted his train of thought, but Hector never lost track of it. After he managed to create some more distance, he found his mind lingering on that notion.
Garovel was scared.
That wasn’t so surprising, really. They were in a terrifying situation with no escape. But it WAS surprising that Garovel was apparently scared enough to be having trouble concealing it.
That was what Hector found concerning.
And though it hardly seemed possible at this point, Hector was beginning to get the impression that these circumstances were somehow even more dire than he had realized.
Wonderful. Just what he wanted. Even more pressure to not fuck up horribly.
He knew he had to keep his calm, though. His focus.
‘Just think of this as a new form of training,’ Garovel was saying, sounding more self-assured again.
‘How the hell would this qualify as training?’
‘You’re honing your agility. With the help of a pet.’
‘A pet,’ he echoed dubiously.
‘A very large, slimy, man-eating pet, yes.’
Well, at least the reaper wasn’t too scared to distract his servant with stupid bullshit.
A genuine distraction did arrive, however, in the form of a new presence in the chamber. Thanks to the Scarf of Amordiin, Hector sensed the person there immediately, standing at the bottom of the chamber and looking around in probable confusion. Unfortunately for whoever it was, Hector and worm were above them.
Hector knew his task at once. He had to get there before the worm did.
Hector bolted over the side of the third floor again, armor scraping against rock, and knocked himself straight downward with a velocity state in an iron boulder. He went to work on an iron web in order to slow himself once he was close enough, but it was going to be a very tight window, he knew. He was prepared to launch them on a platform of their own, if necessary.
And he caught a glimpse of the person.
It was a Hun’Kui. Eleyo, almost certainly. But he was wearing Seyos’ cloak.
In that same moment, Eleyo looked up and no doubt perceived his imminent demise. Hector falling toward him, chased by a giant mass of sludge and ardor.
Eleyo gripped a pendant around his neck, just as Seyos had done previously, and vanished into thin air.
And Hector was alone with the worm again--only now, he’d compromised his positioning, and the worm was nearly on top of him.
Not much choice now.
He ignored the immediate confusion and shot himself sideways with a horizontal pillar. When he was close enough to the wall, he followed up with a vertical pillar, adding extra mass to it as well as a slight curve to the tip, trying to help with the adjustment in his trajectory. He still ended up scraping the wall with his shield and armor, but it mostly worked, and he went flying upward again, feeling rather like a pinball.
The hope was to slip by the worm entirely, but the Scarf of Amordiin was telling him now that that wasn’t going to happen. The only consolation was that the concentration of sludge here was thinner than the main body.
He readied his grip on the Moon’s Wrath, then swung with all his strength as soon as he made contact.
Sludge splattered everywhere, but he made it up and over to the second floor.
He allowed himself to stop and check if he had any sludge on him. The Scarf informed him that, other than a few specks here and there, he didn’t.
He indulged a breath of relief, and then rumbling reminded him that he was still being chased, and he propelled himself away on still another iron platform.
‘Something’s different with that mace now,’ said Garovel. ‘It doesn’t feel quite so “empty” anymore. It has ardor in it.’
Hector wasn’t sure what to do with that information.
‘Hit the worm again,’ the reaper said.
‘Uh--are you sure? Didn’t you want me to--?’
‘I know what I said. But now we’re conducting research, and science is important enough to risk our lives for, right?’
Hector didn’t wholly agree with that sentiment, but he didn’t argue, because the result was what he’d wanted earlier.
The worm was climbing again, sloshing over rock and tossing bits of treasure around.
Hector took his chance and slammed a giant iron cube into it just as it was reaching the second floor.
The worm didn’t seem particularly bothered by the impact and kept on after him like so much flowing water, entirely undeterred.
Not quite the distraction he’d hoped for. Hector launched himself away without enough time even to choose his direction or stabilize himself. He and his armor went flipping through the air.
But the Scarf. Again, it was helping him. With it, he didn’t become disoriented. He didn’t lose track of where he was or where the worm was or even where the wall that he was flipping toward was. Being able to sense the space immediately around himself proved to be a stabilizing effect for his mind, and this wasn’t the first time he’d noticed it in this fight, either.
He was able to materialize an iron curve against the wall just before he hit it. So rather than slamming against it and losing all momentum, his armor scraped against the curve and then slid safely off to the side. He was even able to reorient himself into an upright position and land easily on both feet, still on the second floor.
‘Holy crap, Hector.’
‘Think I’m getting the hang of this Scarf.’ He watched the iron curve he’d made a moment ago fall off the wall and annihilated it before it hit the ground.
The worm was getting close again, and Hector bounded up and over it, deciding this time not to flee. He wanted the edge of the worm. His most recent test had revealed that he couldn’t distract it, but maybe he could still navigate around its huge bulk nimbly enough to avoid immediate death.
The sludge pulsed and stretched, reaching out for him a little--but only a little. Not like the worm’s mouth could. This section here was the tail, Hector was pretty sure, and while it was obviously still dangerous, it didn’t seem nearly as aggressive in its efforts to absorb or devour him.
It did seem more aggressive in its efforts to slam him into the wall, though.
And since he wasn’t confident that a blow from the Moon’s Wrath would counter something with enough force to derail a train, he decided to leap over the tail instead of taking it head on. When the tail smacked into the wall and splattered everywhere, Hector rushed in to attack. He held the mace low, letting it drag behind him a little, and then brought full force to bear with vigor-enhanced strength.
The mace struck true and the already-thinned tail exploded into even more chunks.
That was all the opening he was going to get, though, as he could already sense the mouth twisting around to catch him from behind. He launched himself out of its path, and the worm’s mouth bent upward after him, snapping and drooling at him but still out of reach.
He landed on the other side while it rumbled and writhed, eagerly trying to reposition itself so that it could chase him again.
Hector put some distance between himself and the worm again, waiting for Garovel’s assessment.
‘That was a solid hit,’ the reaper said. ‘Seems like the the mace is “full” now.’
‘Full?’ said Hector.
‘Of ardor,’ said Garovel.
‘Yeah, but what does that actually mean?’
‘Dunno. Try to do something with it.’
‘Like what?’
‘Uh. Hmm. Maybe it’s got a secret button on the bottom of the handle.’
Hector checked. ‘It doesn’t.’
‘Well, shit, I’m out of ideas. You think of something.’
Not knowing what else he could do, he tried swinging the mace at thin air.
It didn’t do anything.
The worm was gaining on him again, so he had to stop fiddling with the mace and concentrate on keeping his distance. The beast didn’t seem fazed by the loss of its tail. Perhaps because its tail wasn’t even missing, anymore. The splattered sludge had already reaccumulated.
He waited for his next opening, which arrived when he got the worm to slam dumbly into the wall again.
This time, he tried just pointing the mace straight at the worm. He knew that he would probably have to get close and attack it directly again, but he really didn’t want to do that and was therefore trying to exhaust all other options that he could think of, even if they were stupid and pointless like--
The spike at the tip of the mace turned suddenly white hot, burning and glowing with enough intensity to make Hector squint inside his helmet.
Then a thick beam shot out, appearing all at once, a bar of bright, solid white light.
And it cleaved a chunk out of the worm like a knife. Black sludge went flying in the familiar way.
‘Holy fuck!’ said Garovel.
‘This fuckin’ thing can shoot lasers?!’ said Hector, wide-eyed.
‘Oh, it’s empty again. I guess that used up all the ardor.’
‘Aw, shit.’
‘Recharge it! I wanna see more lasers!’
‘Garovel, I’m trying not to get us killed here.’
‘Oh, I know! And you’re doing a great job of that, by the way! Really, just stellar work! Keep it up, buddy!’
‘Thanks...’
‘Now go recharge that laser.’
Hector intended to, but he wasn’t nearly as thrilled about it as the reaper seemed to be. Getting in close enough to hit the worm with the Moon’s Wrath again would be flirting with death, he knew. And Hector wanted to keep his relationship with death purely platonic, if at all possible.
Nonetheless, he dove in and got his hits. It took a while. Where before it had taken only two swings, this time it took four, perhaps because the hits themselves weren’t quite as “solid” as that one from earlier had been.
But the Moon’s Wrath was finally recharged, and Hector found an opening to use it.
Just as before, the beam shot out, illuminating the chamber and carving a hole into the worm.
A hole which was refilled all too soon, just like the last one had been.
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‘Hmm.’
‘Garovel, this laser’s not doin’ shit to that thing.’
‘Yeah. That kinda bites. You’d think something that cool would be the solution to all our problems.’
Hector started running again. ‘Now what do we do?’
‘Good question,’ said Garovel. ‘Back to plan A, I guess. Stay alive until someone saves our sorry asses.’
‘Agh... I really hate plan A...’
‘Well, I’m open to hearing a plan C, if you’ve got one.’
‘Er...’
‘Plan A, it is.’
‘No, hold on! I can think of something!’ He racked his brain, feeling like he really could think of something, for some reason. Like he was forgetting something, maybe. Something important. ‘Uh...! Hmm...!’
Shit. Why wasn’t it coming to him? It was almost like there was a giant, man-eating sludge monster distracting him.
‘Don’t strain yourself,’ said Garovel as Hector launched himself over the large gap in the second floor and ran briefly along the wall before landing on the other side, still running. ‘Okay, are you just trying to show off, now? Because I was already impressed.’
Hector was hardly listening, though, too caught up in his multiple focuses. While it was true that the Scarf of Amordiin was helping him to understand where he could move and how precise that movement needed to be, he was beginning to realize that there was another aspect at play here, too.
His own armor was helping, in a weird way. Even though it was bulky and heavy as shit, it was also adding a ton of momentum. His undead strength had made it easy not to notice, because it made the armor not actually feel all that heavy, but he was sensing it more and more now. It was almost like he could relax his whole body and just let the armor keep carrying him forward.
He wasn’t actually going to do that, of course, but it was an interesting feeling nonetheless. And it required a light touch, too. A very precise use of his own strength. Too much, and he would overcome the momentum and simply move normally, but with a deliberately weak application, that momentum could be preserved--and even harnessed, as he had just proved to himself by running along the wall.
But all of that was quite a lot to process and think about while still conversing with Garovel, keeping track of where the worm was, maintaining the cooling effect of his armor, AND trying to remember whatever it was that he felt like he was forgetting.
So it was no surprise, really, that he was not entirely succeeding at a couple of those things, at the moment.
He was letting his focus drift into too many things simultaneously again. Hector didn’t need a repeat of what had happened in that previous treasure room in order to realize that he was on the verge of fucking himself over.
Focus. Prioritize.
He knew where the worm was. Because he had to. That was the top priority. And he knew where he needed to go in order to keep ahead of it. That was pretty much the same priority. He could lump those two thoughts together.
The cooling effect on the armor could take a little bit of a back seat, he felt. While helpful, it wasn’t strictly necessary--nor was talking to Garovel. Maybe he could lump those together, too, in a less effective capacity.
‘Sorry, Garovel,’ he said. ‘I might not hear what you’re saying for a little while.’
‘What’re you--?’ Even before that, the reaper had already been saying something, but Hector needed his focus now.
He needed to remember.
A fresh distraction arrived first, however.
The worm was doing something different. Its movements had changed. Its mouth was wriggling and twitching, and its bulk was starting to twist and bubble. It even stopped chasing him.
Hector stopped running in order to stand and observe it with his actual eyes this time.
‘Oh, what now?’ said Garovel.
Hector saw a crackle of blue light within of the monster’s cavernous mouth and heard the bristling static of electricity.
That was all the warning he got. A flashing bolt of electricity arced out in an instant and crashed upon a freshly materialized lightning rod. The iron exploded on impact, taking a chunk of the second floor with it and knocking Hector into the wall.
‘Oh god, I forgot they could do that!’
Hector steadied himself and started running again, ignoring his ruptured ear drums and stinging eyes. ‘You’re a reaper. How did you forget?’
‘Well, okay, I didn’t technically forget. I was just hoping this one didn’t have that power!’
That certainly would’ve been nice.
He started materializing lightning rods behind him as he moved. He wasn’t sure if he and Garovel could survive a direct hit from one of those bolts, and he didn’t intend to find out.
‘Heh,’ said Garovel. ‘I guess it’s a good thing you have experience fighting against lightning.’
That reminded Hector that he’d found out from Ivan that Desmond Grantier was still alive. And if Desmond was alive, Hector had a feeling that Karkash was, too. Or at least, it wouldn’t surprise him.
Hector tried to refocus. The crashing boom of ardor-infused electricity was making it difficult to concentrate, though. The bolts weren’t frequent, but the fact that one of them had destroyed part of the second floor was very troubling to Hector.
This whole chamber was infused with ardor, which made the rock far more durable than normal. All the times that he’d slammed into it--either just by landing in full or getting thrown into the wall--Hector hadn’t left a single scratch. Nor had the worm, until now.
Which was another question.
‘Why did the worm only just now start using its electricity?’ said Hector. ‘We’ve been fighting for a while.’
‘Well, it WAS just born. Maybe it’s still getting used to its own power. Maturing, if you will.’
His eyes widened at that notion. ‘So it’s getting stronger as the fight draws out.’
‘I don’t know about THAT, exactly... but kinda, yeah.’ The reaper broke for a laugh, though it sounded somewhat nervous to Hector. ‘It’s not like its power will just keep growing indefinitely.’
Hector sensed another lightning bolt coming. That was expected, of course. But the worm’s mouth wasn’t pointed at him. It was pointed ahead of him, where he was about to be and where his most recent lightning rod wasn’t.
He barely changed course in time and raised a simple iron wall to mitigate the impact. The wall exploded toward him, and he had to annihilate its sundered pieces before they pummeled him. He still ended up blocking a few lumps of ardor-infused rock with his shield, however.
And yet again, the worm was closing in, and Hector was forced to run.
‘Did you see that?!’ said Hector.
‘Yeah,’ said Garovel slowly.
‘It just changed tactics on me! It’s not just “maturing” or whatever! This fuckin’ thing is problem solving!’
‘But. Um. Hmm. Really, though, isn’t learning just another aspect of maturing? I mean, when you think about it--’
‘I thought it was just a mindless monster!’
‘Aha... Mm, so did I, honestly.’
He needed to calm down, Hector knew. Panicking wasn’t going to do him any favors. And Garovel wasn’t quite sounding as calm as usual, either.
He had to get a hold of himself. He had to protect Garovel. No matter what.
And he had to think of something.
That thing from before. Whatever he was forgetting. What the hell was it?!
Then it finally hit him.
The Shard. His line to Emiliana. Maybe she could tell him something about worms, something that could help him kill this damn thing. Or at least not get eaten by it.
He couldn’t stop, though. As he kept on running and jumping and materializing, he made an opening in his armor and found the Shard there. He let the Moon’s Wrath take its place and gripped it with his bare hand. The mace was much larger and stuck out of his breastplate, giving the appearance of a small spear through his chest, but Hector wasn’t concerned with fashion, at the moment. He reached out with his mind.
‘Emiliana,’ he thought.
There was no immediate response, but that was not surprising. He kept at it, figuring that she would answer eventually.
Thankfully, it only took a couple minutes instead of hours.
‘Hector?’ came her soundless voice. ‘What is the matter?’
‘Giant worm,’ he said, trying not to sound like he was freaking out. ‘Fighting one. Right now. Information, please.’
‘Oh! Right! O-okay, o-one second! I made some notes! Allow me to find them!’
‘Please hurry.’
Silence returned as she was presumably searching, and in the meantime, the Scarf of Amordiin was informing him that the worm was about to puke up more lightning.
This time, though, he could sense the beast’s mouth swaying back and forth as the electricity built up and was held there for longer than previously.
It was trying to juke him, the wormy bastard.
Hector decided to just materialize a whole fleet of lighting rods around him. Wherever it wanted to shoot, the area would be covered.
His plan worked, though maybe a little too well. Lightning leapt from rod to rod, destroying each one as it went and sending so many iron chunks flying at once they created a kind of electrical storm all around him.
‘Okay,’ came Emiliana’s voice again. ‘Are you still there?’
Hector was busy annihilating all of his shredded iron so as to rob the electricity in the air of its prime conductor, but he still managed to say, ‘Yeah.’ It calmed the crackling storm almost instantly, but now his armor was the prime conductor, and a bolt from the thin air struck him, though it was weak enough that it only knocked him back a couple steps instead of sending him flying.
He launched himself away just as the worm’s gaping jaw crashed down.
That was much closer than he wanted it to be. He could sense sludge all over his armor and started trying to remove it with more acrobatic movements, as he did earlier.
‘You okay in there?’ he asked, consciously directing the thought at Garovel alone.
‘Yeah, I’m good.’
Emiliana was saying something again. ‘--was hoping to corroborate more of this so that I did not tell you something that was false. The list is quite long, so--’
‘Just give me whatever you’ve got,’ he told her.
‘Um--very well. Their slimy bodies have strange electromagnetic properties, which allows many of the larger ones to accumulate a very strong charge and expel it from--’
‘Yep. Know that. What else?’
‘Um. Ah--do you know that their sludge can be a powerful acid?’
‘Yeah.’ He neglected mentioning that it was one of the things about worms that he was LEAST afraid of, having already seen much more powerful acid elsewhere. No sense in derailing the conversation.
‘Okay. Did you know that they can increase their mass by breaking down rock and absorbing it into their bodies?’
Oh.
Oh shit.
‘No, I didn’t,’ said Hector. But that did explain why the worm seemed to be a little larger, all of a sudden. And a lot of those rocks that the worm’s lightning had torn out of the floor and walls were missing now, according to the Scarf.
‘They can also divide themselves and reassemble as they please.’
‘Yeah. Seen that firsthand.’ Granted, this particular worm hadn’t done so yet, but he didn’t doubt that it could. Though, given the circumstances, he might’ve preferred a bunch of little worms to the one big one. They might be more difficult to keep away from, sure, but at least he wouldn’t have to worry about getting pancaked into the wall or swallowed whole.
‘I have also read that worms can absorb the abilities of servants that they have eaten. I have seen conflicting information with regard to this one, however. Do you know if it is true?’
‘No, sorry. Haven’t seen that one yet, thankfully.’
And as Hector sensed more lightning inbound, he was beginning to feel as though this conversation was not the tide-turner that he needed it to be.
‘What about weaknesses?’ said Hector as he dove out of the way of more exploding lightning rods.
‘Oh, yes, of course. In order to kill them, you must destroy somewhere around ninety percent of their body. I have read numbers as low as eighty percent but also as high as ninety-seven percent, so make of that what you will, I suppose.’
Hector’s brow furrowed, and he scrambled back to his feet, armor scraping against rock. ‘That’s...! That’s not really a “weakness,” Emiliana...’
‘I, ah... I realize that, yes...’
And there was silence as Hector merely continued fleeing.
At length, he had to break it. ‘Are you telling me that worms don’t have any weaknesses?’
‘I’m afraid so. At least, none that Ibai and I were able to discover in so short a time.’
That was probably the very last thing that Hector had wanted to hear, right now.
But wait. Maybe she was just joking around. Maybe Chergoa was putting her up to this. ‘Really?’ was all he managed to say.
‘Yes. I’m sorry.’
‘You didn’t even find anything about a “wave” that can put them to sleep?’
‘What? A wave? What kind of wave?’
‘That’s what I’m asking you!’
‘Ah! Oh! I’m sorry! I don’t know anything about a wave that affects worms!’
‘Well, shit!’
‘Wait a minute, are you okay?! How much danger are you in, right now, precisely?!’
‘A lot!’ He knew that he probably should’ve kept trying to play it cool so as not to worry her... but fuck it. Everything was terrible, and despite his better judgment, he really wanted to just say so. ‘Oh, but it’s just me, though! Zeff’s not here!’
‘I wasn’t going to ask--’
‘I wish he WAS here! He could probably kill this fuckin’ thing!’
And there was a pause, then Emiliana laughed.
Hector didn’t know how to respond to that. ‘What the--?! Why are you laughing?!’
‘Ah, I’m so sorry! I just--! I didn’t expect you say something like that all of a sudden! I’m not happy you’re having a hard time or anything like that! I swear!’
But he could still hear her snickering a little.
‘I’m so sorry! That just took me by surprise! Really! You just always seemed so stoic and in control that I--! I just never thought you would say anything like that!’
‘I hope Gohvis eats you.’
That made her laugh even harder than before, though she continued trying to apologize.
‘It’s fine,’ he said. ‘But now you’re really distracting me, so I have to go. I’ll talk to you later, if I’m not dead.’
‘Okay! Um! Do your best! Again, I’m so--’
He refitted the Shard into his armor, having had his fill of that conversation.
Garovel must have taken notice of Hector releasing the Shard, because he said, ‘Done talking to Emiliana?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Learn anything useful?’
‘I learned that the only way to kill this thing is to destroy ninety percent of its body mass.’
‘So... no, then.’
‘Pretty much,’ said Hector. ‘I can’t even destroy one percent of it, let alone ninety.’
‘Mmhmm. Even after poking holes in it with the Moon’s Wrath, the worm doesn’t seem to have gotten any smaller.’
‘Yeah, I think it’s growing, actually, by absorbing the broken rocks around here.’
‘Oh. Lovely. Back to plan A, then?’
Hector exhaled a growl and tried to think of something else.
And he did.
‘I’ve got an idea,’ he told Garovel.
‘Oh? What’re the odds it’ll get us eaten?’
‘Uh. Pretty low, I guess.’
‘Tell me more, then.’
Hector sensed more lightning on the way and knew that he shouldn’t let the opportunity pass while he explained. ‘I’ll just show you.’
‘Alright. Dazzle me.’
The worm was trying to fake him out again with its head movement, but that was fine. Hector materialized an army of conducting rods, just as he had done before, but this time, he kept making them taller and taller; and then at the last instant, right when he felt like the worm was finally going to let the lightning rip, Hector added a second growth out of the side of every rod simultaneously, making each one rush straight toward the worm, which Hector had allowed to get quite close.
The lightning hit just as the wall of angled conductors completed the circuit with the worm’s body. Iron exploded all around him, as expected, but it didn’t result in an electrical storm this time. The vast majority of the lightning went straight back into the monster, zapping it with its own ridiculous power.
It was enough to make the worm seize up and stop in place. Sludge rippled visibly across its body, distorting its shape somewhat in apparent displeasure.
But that was it. After a couple seconds, the beast recovered and let out a roar, perhaps wanting Hector to know that he’d pissed it off.
Hector didn’t waste the opening, though. He leapt up, Moon’s Wrath held tight, and smashed in its left eyespot. The hit was hard enough to send sludge splattering all the way out the back of its head.
He landed on its contorted back, materializing a falling iron plate for himself so that he didn’t immediately sink into the worm’s body, and then launched himself off of it before the beast could turn around and devour him.
He hit the ground rolling and scraping on rock, but he quickly found his footing and started running again.
‘Okay,’ said Garovel. ‘I’ll admit. I’m reasonably dazzled.’
Hector wasn’t. ‘That still didn’t do anything, though! Agh!’ He could already sense that the “damage” he had done to the worm’s head was entirely recovered.
‘Yeah. That does suck. But hey, on the bright side, the Moon’s Wrath is fully charged again, and it was practically empty before. That was a really good hit you just landed.’
‘That stupid laser isn’t gonna help, either, Garovel!’
‘Mm, maybe not, but it’s important to stay positive, Hector.’
‘Since when?!’
‘Since now! I’ve been trying really hard not to panic during all of this, okay?!’
‘I’ve noticed!’
‘What?! What do you mean, you’ve noticed?! Why didn’t you say anything, then?!’
‘Because I’ve been busy trying to keep us alive!’
‘Well, now I feel like a jackass!’
‘Good!’
‘Fuck you! Hurry up and beat this worm already!’
‘How, goddammit?!’
‘I don’t know! Use the Scarf or something! Do more cool flips! I’m sure that’ll help!’
‘Give me some real advice, asshole!’
‘Have you tried talking it into submission?!’
‘What?!’
‘Well, it worked against the Salesman, didn’t it?!’
‘Agh! I should just let it kill us!’
‘C’mon, Hector, buddy! Don’t give up yet! You can save us, probably! I believe in you, kind of!’
More iron and rock exploded as lightning crashed above his head, forcing Hector to make a hard right turn mid-gallop. He launched himself up and away again, trying to build more distance so that he had time to think.
‘Do you need more positive thinking?’ said Garovel, calmer again. ‘Because if so, I’ve got you covered. Let’s see, um--Oh. With all this ardor-lightning destroying everything, it’s way more spacious in here now. Isn’t that great?’
Hector didn’t answer him.
‘It’s more room for you to maneuver,’ the reaper continued, undeterred. ‘That’s good, right? Especially with the Scarf of Amordiin? I mean, shit. I thought improved spatial awareness would just enhance your materialization. I didn’t think it would turn you into some kind of iron ninja.’
Still, Hector was more concerned with trying to come up with a new plan.
‘Hey, maybe we’ll get lucky and the worm will blast us a tunnel out of here.’
That was an interesting idea. But it was still pretty useless, he figured after a moment. Trying to direct the worm to dig in a particular spot might have been possible, but there was no way to know WHICH spot to choose. It all looked the same, and Garovel couldn’t help with that, either, because his reaper’s sense was blocked by all the ardor in the rock.
Ugh.
Failed plan after failed plan. And even though there was definitely more space to run around in now, all the debris was slowly adding to the worm’s bulk.
And that was going to become a real problem sooner or later, Hector felt. The larger the worm grew, the more difficult it would become to avoid.
So maybe that was what he should have been focusing on. Preventing its growth.
In fact... maybe he could even take that a step further. Maybe he could whittle the worm down, bit by bit.
Hmm.
Well, it was a new plan, at least.
The worm chose that moment to roar more loudly and piercingly than it ever had previously, making the whole enormous chamber tremble.
Hector was far enough away that the sheer force of it didn’t knock him back, but he could see rubble around the beast being blown away, and even at this distance, he still had to stop running so that he didn’t trip and fall on his face.
The worm wasn’t moving while roaring, though. So Hector figured it was as good a time as any to go in.
He charged toward it, mace held straight ahead of him, and loosed another beam of radiant white. He intentionally aimed to only graze the beast, and indeed, that was what he achieved. The light sliced into the right side of worm’s head, and a sliver of dark sludge went flying away from it.
Hector pursued that sliver like it was a wild animal. And it basically was. It splattered against the ground but didn’t stop moving for an instant. Its many black droplets quickly reformed into one and started squirming its way back to the rest of the worm.
Hector trapped it in a box of iron from ten meters away, but he didn’t have the luxury of getting to see how well the iron held, because the worm was again way too close to ignore. He used a haphazard platform to flip himself out of the beast’s quaking path. He was about to return his attention to his iron box, believing that he had bought himself a few precious seconds while the worm was busy trying to turn itself around again, but he was forced to reassess the situation entirely when he sensed the giant worm split itself apart instead.
Thirty or so horse-sized worms were suddenly swarming him.
There wasn’t time to react with anything that required actual thought. It was gut impulse only.
And his gut came up with the good old spike defense. Tried and true and stronger than ever before. Iron exploded out from his armor in every conceivable direction at once, skewering some of the worms and displacing others, filling so much of the chamber that he couldn’t even see or sense anything with the Scarf of Amordiin anymore.
The Scarf required the free movement of air to work, he knew, and the spikes were so numerous and densely packed that he’d completely encased himself and the Scarf in iron.
And perhaps even more unsettling, it grew immediately quiet, as well. No more rumbling. No more crashing. No more sloshing--or at least, not as much. After a moment, he realized that he could still hear some sludgy movement on the other side of his wall of spikes. He could feel the vibrations in his iron, too.
The worm definitely wasn’t dead yet. Not that he’d really expected it to be.
He didn’t want to undo his work yet, however. Not if it meant he’d just get swarmed again.
‘Can you tell what’s going on out there?’ he asked Garovel.
‘Hmm,’ said Garovel. ‘It seems to be trying to reassemble itself.’
‘Only “trying?” What’s stopping it?’
‘All the iron in the way, presumably.’
‘Really? I didn’t think it would be that effective.’
‘Ah. Well. It’s not. They’re starting to mass successfully now. I’d suggest getting us out of here.’
Indeed, Hector could feel the growing vibrations through the metal and knew the reaper wasn’t joking. He dematerialized some of the extra iron around his armor in order to free up some space for himself, but even with just that small volume removed, he was already seeing sludge oozing through the cracks, squirming and wriggling angrily.
The Scarf was providing a little more information now, telling him that sludge was creeping throughout the entire network of spikes around him and even above his head. But there was still far too much iron blocking everything for the Scarf to give him a complete picture of the worm’s progress.
He readied his grip on the Moon’s Wrath.
Hector annihilated a huge swath of the iron all at once, freeing both himself and a tidal wave of slime, which was already falling toward him like a dark blanket. He launched himself up to meet it head on and bashed open a hole for himself with the mace. He flew out and over and landed on a sliding platform of iron to help him ease to a stop.
He’d gotten away with less sludge on him than he’d expected, but still more than could be ignored. Rather than trying to fling it off of him, however, he boxed it up, each bit. Four boxes in total, one on his arm, leg, back, and foot. Then he separated the boxes from his armor and set them down on the ground.
He didn’t have time to do much more than that. The hundred other parts of the worm had reconnected, though not into one gigantic beast again. Instead, they’d formed into three, which were certainly smaller but still way too big to deal with directly.
And this was far worse, he soon discovered.
With three of them chasing him, running was harder and more chaotic than ever. They tried to surround him, to cut him off, to lead him into one another, to break apart into little ones again and confuse him while the other two tried to take advantage of the opening.
There was barely time to think.
In fact, there wasn’t time to think, really. Not as a single, coherent train of thought, at least.
Again, he found his thoughts divided into separate tasks, though all of those tasks were now devoted toward the same overall purpose of saving his own ass. He had to think while also sensing openings and reacting to incoming attacks.
It was a mad and clumsy dance. He would get hit, half-covered in slime, and just keep going. For as long as his body would allow him to keep moving. His mind would reassess. He would create more iron. Flip and clean himself off. Smash a way through with the Moon’s Wrath. Get hit again. Knocked on his ass. But never would he stop moving. Back on his feet. Running again. Through a cloud of slime, through the gaps that he could sense in the sludge.
It only kept getting more ridiculous. The worms would change their pattern, and so would Hector. They would try to trick him, and he would find the escape route or make one.
But most importantly, he kept to the plan. To isolate little bits of sludge whenever he could, to prevent them from making it back to their three big brothers.
Hector had come to realize the key factor, though only in the back of his mind.
It was the size of the worms.
When they were too big, his iron couldn’t do anything to them. They would have enough mass to break or otherwise overwhelm it. But when they were small--the size of a dog, maybe--he could successfully box them in.
He could only spare enough time and mental capacity to sense them in fleeting moments, but they were there, more and more as the madness continued. His iron boxes. Littering the battlefield.
Yes. He was beginning to think that this plan could actually work. The little worms weren’t able to break free. If he could just--
He sensed one of the big worms slam down and smash a dozen iron boxes, undoing half his work in an instant. And the other half? Those boxes were vibrating on their own now.
The little worms tore their way through his iron like corkscrews. Come to think of it, he’d seen worms move like that before, back when the train was first attacked. It was how they were able to tunnel through solid rock.
The worm was still learning. Still discovering its own abilities.
Insanity.
Hector was just about at the end of his rope.
What the fuck was he supposed to do here? Was this just impossible?
Well.
Of course it was.
It had been impossible from the beginning. He’d been an idiot to ever think otherwise, really. To ever have hope that he could actually win a fight like this, against a literal monster, the kind that he would’ve thought only existed in legends and nightmares.
He and Garovel were going to die here.
A part of him had felt that way the whole time, if he was being completely honest with himself.
But then again, a part of him always felt that way. In fact, at this point, he would’ve felt weirder without that feeling constantly there in the back of his mind. The only difference now was that the feeling was in the front of his mind, instead, demanding his attention.
And that was no excuse to give up.
That was no excuse for anything.
As his feet struggled to keep their balance, as his senses became crowded with waves of hungry sludge in all directions, as his hand gripped the Moon’s Wrath, as he tried to brace himself with his shield, and as he angrily thought that, actually, there were still a couple things left that he wanted to try on this giant pile of sentient shit--that was when he finally felt it there in his mind.
The response.