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36. Hidden Threats and Rewards - I
🕑 Added 2025-01-02 05:00:11 +0000 UTCWhen I arrived at the cavern, the battle had already started even if it hadn’t yet spilled into the main cavern. A crew must have found a sizable, new deposit in one of the two other new tunnels extending from this cavern.
A cry for help preceded a dust-smeared Ættar exiting the tunnel’s mouth and dragging another Ættar by his armpits. Those two weren’t alone. A fight still raged down the corridor. Judging by the inhuman screams, someone was holding back monsters. Two Ættir ran forward to grab the wounded Ættar. They dragged him backward while calling to whomever remained. The impromptu line of green parted to allow the wounded through before snapping shut, reestablishing the wall. On this world, safety was an illusion, but as I was learning, a line of seven-foot, muscled giants wielding weapons that could cut through stone converted the illusory into a near-reality.
Still, that was for the lowly Tier I Human hiding behind that line. Someone still had to shoulder the risk, and the consequences lay before me. The wounded Ættar needed help. His chest wasn’t moving and dark red soaked his tunic. I grabbed my belt pouch. I had one potion left. It would have to do. Except, they had already poured a potion down his throat before I had taken more than a step in his direction.
He jerked, coughed, and then sat up as if nothing had happened, even though the lacerated tissue along his chest and torso remained open, exposing rapidly knitting muscle fibers. He must have lost a decent amount of blood before they got him the potion. If my assumption about potions were correct, it wouldn’t help with blood loss, but he showed no overt signs of hypovolemia. Over the din of battle, I couldn’t make out what the Ættir said to each other, but after a brief exchange, the Ættir who had carried him to safety pulled the wounded giant up by his wrists. The rapidly healing Ættir gave a nod in thanks before stretching out an open hand. Without a word, another Ættar in the back tossed him a pick. The wounded Ættar grabbed it out of the air, not showing the slightest signs of injury, before rejoining the wall of Ættir.
I couldn’t decide if I should be infuriated or impressed. That Ættar had rejoined the line with an astonishing number of untreated wounds. Maybe he passed them off as superficial, but something was telling me that he sported more significant injuries. Even before coming to this world, I hadn’t ignored my gut instincts, and now…well, I would never have released a patient with wounds like his for active duty. Even adjusting to this world’s standard, I would've held him back long enough to allow the potion to do more work. Yet, I had no power to call him back.
“Incoming. At least fifty terrorvoles.”
The owner of the warning came sprinting out of the tunnel. The tall Ættar was built like a truck. His Marks, covering his entire torso, blazed with deep crimson as he charged the line. He didn’t slow. “Going over,” he yelled before he jumped. The warning didn’t matter. The Ættir in front of the line had expected his move and ducked. The whole maneuver shouldn’t have worked. The cave’s height wasn’t enough for him to just leap over them even with them ducking. Yet, somehow, he contorted his body to pull off a horizontal roll in midair. He cleared the line with inches to spare before he landed on his feet, facing the incoming monsters. His Mark flared again as he skidded to a stop in a crouch position. He inspected the line, eyes lingering on the same Ættar that had my attention. He made no move to relieve him; instead, he moved to cover a gap.
I’m going to need to adjust my views on acceptable injuries. They are goddamn superheroes. How did they lose to the Volki?
“Ready,” yelled an Ættar at the center. The Verndari. I had missed his arrival. Say what you will about him, but he did lead from the front.
I should have been in the back helping the wounded. I had neither the strength nor the inclination to be on the front line. However, save for that one injury, people seemed to manage the horde with minimal need for healing support. Instead, I braced for battle as I stood behind my mining partner.
The terrorvoles came as a long shadow devouring whatever light lit the tunnel. Their black fur melted into the blackness. Only their bright red eyes gave any indication of their number. They were frightening in my first encounter, but this cave fell more in line with their natural habitat—dark, small, and cramped. Whether by intelligence or sheer numbers, they streamed from every part of the opening—the ground, the walls, and even the ceiling. Their long claws gripped the stone walls with ease and allowed them to scale the vertical edges, defying gravity. However, their wave shuddered as the cave pulsed with red light. The Verndari and the wall of Ættir channeled Energy and released it in a deadly concert of crimson light. The lead terrorvoles fell to the ground, dead or dying, but the wave didn’t slow. They crushed their dead as they continued forward to assault the line.
My mining partner had positioned himself, and thereby me, on the edge. That location, traditionally safer, had little advantage when your enemy could run along walls. The first terrorvole that tried our defenses ended up skewered by a burning red pick. However, the terrorvoles had enough intelligence to attack those distracted. Another sprang from the wall at an opening an Ættar made with his swing. Yet, his body and pick blurred as he spun to catch the leaping terrorvole with his backswing. The red Energy winked out as the sharp head split the dark-furred beast in two. The front half of the body fell in front of me. Not realizing that it should be dead, it twitched and dragged its body toward me. I drove my pick through it to finish the job.
The din of battle had already begun to die. The estimate of fifty of the monsters looked short of reality, but even then, the horde had not come close to fracturing the staggered line. The wave had broken against their wall in a gory mess, leaving only the stragglers to mop up.
I pulled my pick out of the dead beast when something rippled along the wall. I blinked, and there was nothing. Except…
Something was messing with the Aether on that wall. My guts roiled, and some part of my primitive brain screamed danger. I didn’t hesitate. I swung my pick at the abnormality, but fear fractured my control. My eyes went wide as I sucked in Aether. I forcibly converted it to Energy, which combined with what I had drawn from Mark. I couldn’t stop the surge. My pick blazed with red light, but some of that Energy infused the muscles in my arm. The pickaxe accelerated to blur, and I almost lost grip of its handle. Still, I managed to hold on and hit the area near the Aether anomaly.
My pick struck the wall with an explosive force. I recoiled first from the rebound caused by the strength of the blow and the hail of sharp stone fragments that followed and then from the resounding shriek that drowned out all other sounds. I stumbled backward, barely getting out of the way of a skittering, spider-like shape that tumbled out of the cloud of dust, erupting from the wall.
What the hell is that?
I took in the abomination as it rolled across the ground in front of me. My mind struggled with the juxtaposition of the beauty of its iridescent carapace, not unlike the wings of a butterfly, and the fact that it looked to be a spider larger than a dog. Fear won out when its legs pierced the stone in an attempt to right itself. I had blown a small crater into the wall, yet the thing could still, albeit with some effort, move on its spindly legs.
Camouflage gone, a crystalline spider tried to limp towards back the cloud of dust. As it moved, the Aether density around it began to diminish. Before my eyes, the crystalline carapace lost its iridescence and became more translucent, however, before it managed to fade away, another pick, glowing red, pierced its body and pinned it to the ground. Somehow, it survived that blow. Its screeches reverberated through the cavern. In part pain and part defiance, it extended its pointed legs at my partner and stabbed them into the stone floor. That futile gesture came to an abrupt end.
Energy surged through the pick. When its course intersected with the impaled spider, it compressed the monster’s body into the ground. The angular shell of the creature vibrated as if trying to contain pressure. It failed in a spectacular fountain of dark fluid and ichor. The Energy continued through the body, slamming into the ground and causing cracks to spread out radially. Vibrations followed, traveling up my legs. Had I not braced, I would have stumbled from their strength.
My mining partner, sure of the monster’s death, turned to look at me. “How?”
I didn’t get to answer him. “Brother, nice kill,” the Verndari called out before returning to barking out orders.
They had put down the infestation, and now it was time to collect the rewards. Yet, the young Ættar didn’t move in the direction of his leader. He pulled out his pickaxe, cleaned it with a flick, and stood waiting, not saying another word. More than a few Ættir kept tossing glances in our direction.
What was going on?
I didn’t have to wait long. A few Ættir gathered behind the Verndari as he walked toward us. I couldn’t miss the looks of admiration in those Ættar’s eyes when they caught sight of the dead monster. They were a stark difference from the Verndari’s shock and annoyance when he caught sight of me standing near the kill. Still, what did we kill to have made such an impression and to earn a personal congratulation from the company’s head?
The Verndari stood over the remains. “Could have left a bit more to salvage, but better it be dead. It looks like this Human didn’t hold you back.”
My partner nodded. “He served.” He said nothing about my role in the kill or my work in the tunnel, but even those words brought a flicker of scowl.
“When you recover, join the excavation. We will be working late.” He studied me, perhaps looking for signs of Aether toxicity. Then his gaze flicked to the tunnel to the new deposit. Even from here, I pick up the low thrum of concentrated Aether coming from its direction. “Human, gather the remains and bring them for processing.”
I suppressed a smile. Greed won out. I wouldn’t need to test the limits of my Aether tolerance today.
Comments
SynTV
Yes, it is thanks to his Perception. Though, he is still sort of figuring things out.
Mojr
Thanks for the chapter! I wonder how he managed to sense that creature? One of his (incredibly) high potentials? I forgot their names />_</
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