Coop drifted away from the High Priest’s hidden base in a commandeered rowboat. The watercraft had been pulled ashore near the wooden dock and secured by a frayed piece of rope that practically disintegrated upon touch. Coop finished the job by tearing the tattered line and dragging the boat into the edge of the water. He gingerly stepped inside, testing the partially rotted wooden planks before fully committing his weight to the vessel. The boat had been neglected for some time, showing significant signs of deterioration, but it floated well enough. That was all Coop needed from it. Behind him, the priest’s fungiculture project was smoldering. Flames consumed what hadn’t rotted away upon the defeat of the mushroom boss, wiping the caves clean of the last disgusting bits of cultist influence.
The subterranean lake was clear and deep. Leaning over the edge of the boat and peering into the depths in the center of the channel made it almost seem like he was floating on a bottomless basin. The limited fire light was gradually swallowed by the turquoise depths, revealing nothing but an underground abyss. Coop felt an involuntary fear for what might be lurking on the bottom, so he tried not to think about it.
Waterfalls were scattered throughout the cavern, filling the empty cavern with the steady sounds of splashing water. Combined, they were loud enough to drown out the crackling of flames back on the shore, but the crashing water only churned the pool in their immediate vicinity. The natural cistern was large enough that the waves barely interrupted the calm surface throughout the rest of the area. The waterfalls were quietly swallowed up by the lake’s volume. There weren’t any fish swimming around, which Coop took as a sign that the cave had been thoroughly claimed by death. They knew to stay away, unlike him.
Coop passively steered the vessel, letting the gentle flow of the underground river carry him into one of the dark tunnels. His logic was simple; he assumed that downstream would lead to an exit. It wouldn’t be much of a smuggler’s den if it was completely isolated from the outside world and the presence of the boat in the first place was enough to convince him that there would be an outlet by water. It wasn’t like he believed the High Priest had burrowed her way into the cave either.
Once he had the open sky above his head again, he would find his way through the mountainous forest and navigate back to the original entrance. Tzultacaj and Juliana would be waiting for his reappearance and he fully intended to meet up with them again, even if he needed to deliver bad news. There was no way he would have discovered the butterfly cave without them. If the other priests were as dug in as this, he would need more help in the future just finding them. For the time being, he would lean on Tzultacaj’s expertise to lead him to more of Chakyum’s priests.
Backtracking through the caves would have been a massively difficult undertaking, requiring him to climb up the rocky waterslide that had carried him into the depths. Being carried away from the sight of the mushroom atrocities in the little rowboat was a much more appealing prospect.
Judging by the state of decay among the corpses, the kidnapping victims of the High Priest had been dead for a while. Coop was no expert in forensic pathology, but even he could tell that the victims were dead a long time, certainly before he had even left Ghost Reef. They had been used to feed the mushroom boss in a nasty ritual of cultivation, one that had clearly been done repeatedly in order to consistently grow the mushroom into the boss monster it had become. The High Priest was using people as fertilizer for the mushroom and it appeared to have been working extraordinarily well. She had succeeded in creating a minion that had a level that completely overshot his own.
He wasn’t entirely sure to what end the High Priest had essentially power leveled a separate entity, but he had some theories. The fact that her last act was to try and consume the rotting mushrooms herself was a clue that lined up with what he already knew about the Cult. They were pursuing the experience that others accumulated, concentrating it under their control, and in this case, preserving it before they took it for themselves.
Ever since the beginning, Coop had feared that unsavory people would discover exactly how lucrative of an experience farm humans, and for that matter, animals that were leveling, could be. He expected that the most ruthless individuals would see other people as an opportunity to boost themselves, but he had never imagined anyone would take the concept so many steps further. The Cult of Chakyum appeared to be industrializing the idea. Even Coop would need to be wary of their potential. They were obviously willing to go to lengths that went beyond his imagination.
While he had defeated a High Priest, he had not really progressed in his original mission. However, he didn’t feel like it would be a waste of time to confront the members of the Cult of Chakyum, especially if they were involved in similarly heinous acts. If anything, they were even more deserving of destruction than the Endless Empire had been, and the fact that they were practicing these rituals on an individual basis meant that he would need to hunt them all down lest he leave them to fester and become a much bigger problem in the future.
They were obviously intent on hoarding experience, which was a relatable goal to someone obsessed with grinding like Coop, but their methods were completely off the rails. They had determined that literally farming humans was the way forward. They were crossing lines that demanded attention. If there had been a chance for Coop to negotiate with the Cult, it was long gone already. Any perceived misunderstandings brought by the Envoy were likely incomparable to reality. The Cult of Chakyum was Coop’s enemy.
As Coop let the singular oar drag behind the rowboat, he checked on the result of the infestation quest. The quest had been completed by elimination rather than cultivation. It was almost insulting that the system had given him the option to align with the priest. The Cult would obviously see him as a high priority target rather than any kind of ally and he absolutely felt the same.
Coop had a new potential title from the completion of the infestation quest, called Devourer. According to its description, the title would allow him to temporarily absorb 1% of a defeated enemy’s highest attribute. Coop immediately thought of the Eater of Worlds back on Ghost Reef. The giant pig’s class provided a similar, if undoubtedly more significant temporary buff, and witnessing the power first-hand during the siege made Coop excited for a similar effect.
However, the additional quest reward triggered another title evolution, similar to how his Reaper title had overlapped with his first Bloodthirsty title back when he defeated the Zombie Lord. The conflicting nature of certain titles required him to make a choice, though it wasn’t without benefit. The titles essentially absorbed the other, improving their original effect. In this case, the Devourer title overlapped with his previously improved Reaper title. Given how critical the recovery provided by his Reaper title had become, he would need to take the decision seriously.
Evolve the Reaper title to ‘Recover 10% of defeated enemy health and mana on kill.’
or
Evolve the Devourer title to ‘Temporarily gain 2% of defeated enemy maximum health, mana, and highest attribute.’
“Oof.” Coop squeezed his eyes and tilted his head up, slightly exasperated by the options. He had to keep the Reaper title. There was no doubt about it.
Even though his health and mana pools had grown to incomparable levels as he progressed, especially relative to most of the enemies he defeated, the Reaper title was still his only method of recovery beyond passive regeneration. He hadn’t been able to supplement his actual recovery in any other way.
Unfortunately, the title hadn’t been growing alongside Coop’s gains, locked as it was to his opponent’s progression rather than his own. The amount of resources he recovered from the average monster was practically negligible if looked at on an individual basis. The only reason why he could still consider his title recovery to be suitable was that his mitigation had been growing alongside his resource pools. Not to mention his own skill in avoiding and countering damage had been improving, and the fact that he had more robust ranged and mid-ranged options in combat meant that he could take less damage than ever.
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A defeated monster providing 15 health was laughable compared to his total health pool, as it approached 15,000, but if that same monster could only deal damage to Coop in the double digits, if at all, then it more or less worked out. Coop was stronger, faster, and more durable compared to his previous self, but that didn’t completely overcome how dated his Reaper’s recovery was becoming. Evolving the title to be more effective was definitely the right move, but he couldn’t help but imagine the possibilities if he could absorb stats, even if temporarily.
He had a vision of himself sweeping across unnamed plains filled with monsters, carried by his fog, defeating vast swathes of enemies at once. With each kill he would become even stronger, eventually growing like the Eater of Worlds. A temporary stat boost would have been a microcosm of his snowballing strategy, but it would be a fleeting buff. It didn’t work for him. From the start, Coop had opted for the steady growth of levels, eschewing the temporary power granted by active skills in favor of permanent passives, and he wasn’t about to stray from his general strategy, especially when it had been paying off so thoroughly.
Ironically, the Devourer title would be devoured by Coop’s build. He selected the Reaper title evolution and felt content that one of his oldest advantages would continue to benefit him even as he sent his stats into the stratosphere. It wasn’t even a minor increase, but an actually massive five-fold leap in efficiency.
“Well, that’s that.” Coop confirmed his choice to the empty tunnel. The dancing reflections of light hitting the smooth rock surfaces paid him no mind.
The rowboat was slowly meandering down the underground river while Coop observed the gradually changing scenery. He carefully rowed with the current; one or two lazy paddles, alternating on each side, kept the vessel centered. After some time, the barren walls started to contain small bits of pioneering vegetation. Further downstream, small amphibians started to appear along with tiny fish. Insects skimmed the water, dancing in and out of range of the minnows as they hunted prey unseen to Coop’s eyes. Eventually, light illuminated the end of the damp tunnel.
Coop breathed a sigh of relief as birdsongs echoed into the cavern. A few more minutes of drifting and he finally had the sky above his head. The tunnel gave way to a sloping ridge, and the river continued twisting its way down through the forest and toward the distant ocean in the east. He rowed himself to the nearest shore with the old oar and dragged the boat onto the dry land. It was a muddy beach with waterlogged felled trees embedded in their resting places, absolutely carpeted with stubby palms. Judging by the sunlight, it was already midday. Coop needed to head west to revert his trip underground.
Summoning his ethereal spear, he launched it above the trees so high into the air that it ended up eclipsing the nearest mountains. They weren’t extraordinary peaks, but Coop’s initial mistjump would take him just below the clouds. It was the first time he was navigating the forest without a guide since he arrived in Corozal, and he was genuinely happy to regain the sense of freedom. Once he had a better idea of the terrain, he would easily be able to cover great distances. It wasn’t like the open ocean, where it would be difficult to identify any particular landmarks among the expanse of steady waves. There were clumps of trees with unique features all over the place, meandering rivers like the one that had carried him out of the cave system, and countless worn mountain peaks, shaped by eons of weather. Each would become a guidepost as he familiarized himself with the area.
For the immediate future, Belize and the Yucatan region would need to become his regular stomping grounds. Rather than continue as a tourist, leaning on locals to lead him from point to point, he would be claiming the territory for himself. The forested mountain highlands and the tropical lowlands would become his base, and the first step would be developing familiarity with the lay of the land. What better way than with a bird’s eye view from high in the sky?
When Coop activated his mistjump, the monochromatic world consumed the forest, spreading from his person until it was shrouding the distant sea in mists and putting the rounded mountain range into a haze of gray fog. The vivid shades of green that painted the forest canopy were washed out until they were like a faded charcoal drawing, smeared by streaks of mist. The constant movement of leaves in the wind, with branches being disturbed by wildlife, all but ceased, frozen in the foggy world.
After being dragged through the mists and solidifying at his spear, a rush of wind greeted him high in the sky and the tiny movements of the forest all resumed as normal. He let himself fall as he triangulated his position from above.
For the most part, the forest seemed uniform with a thick green canopy and dark exposed rocky surfaces, but it was growing increasingly familiar. Coop recognized the strips of escalated growth where the trees towered along drifting rivers. The darker green of trees that grew in ravines contrasted with their neighbors, forming long lines until they melded into the rest of the forest. Dark ridges split the levels of the forest, thinning the vegetation as they escalated. Pockets formed in the canopy where sinkholes collapsed the ground, and depending on the level of regrowth, Coop could even determine the age of the formations, at least relative to the rest.
The sinkholes were the clues he needed if he wanted to figure out where to go, but deciphering the exact formations and comparing them to what he had seen underground was an impossibility to his amateur eye. The hint that Coop needed to solve his navigation problem was an uncannily flat zone of trees off in the distance, like a crop circle had been carved into the rainforest. The circular gap that seemed too perfect from above indicated where he had first encountered Tzultacaj. From that landmark, Coop surveyed the land and made the nearest sinkhole his objective.
A moment later, Tzultacaj and Juliana leapt away from the edge of the hole in the ground, abandoning their entrance preparations, with ropes still tied around their waists. Coop’s spear had embedded itself in the dirt a few dozen yards away. A pair of toucans flew out of the canopy, spooked by the sudden appearance of a missile shooting from the sky and a small shower of leaves drifted to the ground with it.
When Coop came out of the tree line, the pair of Jaguar warriors bombarded him with questions.
“What happened?” Tzultacaj started.
“Where the heck did you come from?” Juliana demanded.
Only Felix greeted him properly, pouncing from his unseen perch to rub his cheek against Coop’s shoulder. Coop scratched the oversized cat while struggling to maintain his balance before he got on with the explanations.
“Listen, why don’t you guys sit down and I’ll go through everything I found in the caves.” Coop suggested.
By the tone of his voice they could already tell that there wouldn’t be good news when it came to the kidnapping victims. Coop had returned alone after all. But he had returned. That possibly meant a High Priest had been defeated. It would be the first time such a thing had happened, so they both did as he suggested.
Coop recounted the entire trip underground. It had been less than a day, but a lot had happened from his perspective. The pair of warriors listened intently, holding their questions back to avoid interrupting. When Coop was finished, the minor details they would have clarified were no longer important. They accepted the news solemnly, as it was disappointing, but it was a standard outcome for the Yucatan. The fact that the High Priest had received her just desserts was actually worth commemorating. Coop finished his story with a request for them to point him to the next priest. He wasn’t done with the Cult of Chakyum, far from it, in fact.
“Juliana.” Tzultacaj began, after he had taken a moment to gather his thoughts.
“Yes?” She responded, wondering what the warrior wished to do next. She knew his plans would be to continue the fight, and Coop clearly represented a powerful ally, but their foes were immeasurably dangerous, numerous, and scattered.
“Go to Sierra and have her spread the word of this victory. We will try again. I will go to Mateo and share the news.” He stood up. “Can you wait for us to collect information?” He asked, directing the question to Coop.
Coop shrugged. He wasn’t willing to sit on his hands, but he would make sure they could reach him. “Just bring it to Corozal.” He waved his hand vaguely in that direction. “I’ll be around.”
Tzultacaj nodded firmly and without another word, turned on his heel to start walking through the jungle, heading west, in the general direction of the Yucatan settlement. Juliana sighed as she and Coop watched the axe-wielding warrior go.
“Guess we’ll be seeing you.” She stated as she stood up herself, gesturing at Felix to join her.
“I’ll look forward to it. We'll definitely get rid of these priests.” He promised.
Juliana nodded with a more hopeful smile than he had seen from her. “You’ve already done more than most.” She nudged the reluctant Felix away, heading south. “Be safe.” She added before she disappeared into the leaves.
Coop’s spear reformed in his hand as he decided on his next steps. The pair of warriors from the Jaguar Sun had parted ways without fanfare, solemn with purpose. Coop wouldn’t let them down when it came time to prove his determination. First, he threw his spear north, returning to Corozal, his base within the region.