Chương 231: Arc 4 - Chapter 33

A sea breeze blew calmly over the white shore. Fritz let the cool caress him, and he stopped, taking a moment to appreciate it. His grey cloak flapped, and twin suns shone down on him from a violet sky. To his left lay the sea, and to his right a jungle of greens and reds. He searched the beach lazily, then watched the rustling of the ferns and the swaying of the trees.

"Nice out here," Mel said, giving voice to the obvious.

"A paradise," Reed agreed.

"I wonder how long someone can stay on a Floor."

"Until it breaks, I suppose," Fritz guessed.

"How long that takes, though, is beyond me."

"Do you think some Climbers are tempted to put it all down and unwind for a few days?" Clover asked.

"I sure am," Mel said.

"But I'd stay for months, no, years. Forever really. As long as there was food." It was an interesting thought, and one that hadn't crossed Fritz's mind. He knew why that was. He had responsibilities in Rain City, and they would not wait on account of readiness or recreation. There was also the truth that most Floors were deadly, even those that seemingly held little threat could eventually become more struggle than serenity.

Though if a Climber did discover a Floor where all their needs were met, and the peril paled in comparison to the pleasure provided, then why not stay a while? Why not, as Mel had said, stay forever, leaving the outside world behind? Perhaps some did. Perhaps that's what happened to your father, some evil part of his mind whispered. Left you and your mother and your sister and your brother. Left you all for a moment of peace, for years of placidity. Fritz rebuked that grotesque hope.

"I couldn't do it," Reed said wistfully.

"Not without friends at least. Would be too lonesome."

"And the Spite would get you," Mel said.

"That too," he agreed, then his face twisted and he spun, raising his buckler. A clang rang out as a spindly spike struck the metal, then two more such spines were spat out from a newly formed hole in the shore. They were dodged as the entire crew scattered into a loose formation.

"There's something under our feet!" Reed cried. He didn't need to warn them; the beast erupted in a rising wave of white sand. Three more spikes soared through the air. Fritz sidestepped one easily, Reed blocked another, and the last missed. The curtain of sand fell, and they could now see their foe. It was a low creature, four-foot tall at most, a broad lizard whose belly scraped against the shore as it shuffled towards them on four thick limbs.

Although it resembled a grey turtle, its back was entirely covered in a blanket of pale quills rather than a shell, and it had a long snout instead of a stubby beak. It loosed another salvo of spines from its back as it rushed at Reed. Its charge was slow, but its bite was fast. The beast's maw snapped wetly in the open air, the attack dodged by a hair.

"Piss off," he shouted, swinging his club. The strike bounced off the creature's snout with a thwack, doing little to slow the assault. The crew leapt into action. Clover's Concussive Bolt staggered the beast, Toby crippled one of its rear limbs with a dagger slash, and Trudge's hammer slammed on its back, shattering quills and sending it sprawling. Fritz lunged, Quicksilver leapt from its scabbard and sped straight into the monster's outstretched neck.

The point plunged in easily, and scales parted, swift and clean. The beast thrashed and scrabbled, and blood poured from its throat. It bit at the air for a few moments longer before the light left its wild yellow eyes, and it fell. Dead.

"Are there any more?" Reed asked, his gaze darting down the beach. Fritz searched, but saw no disturbances in the sands around. He pulsed his Awareness and felt no enmity. He did, however, detect the Stairway. It lay to his right, which, as confirmed by his compass, was to the east. It was also in the jungle.

"Can't see any," Fritz replied.

"Though they may just be well hidden."

"Yeah, and I prefer them that way," Mel said.

"They're bloody ugly bastards."

"Stupid and slow, too," Toby observed.

"Weak."

"I dunno, it'd be nasty if you stepped on one," Reed said.

"What with those spines."

"Or if it caught anyone in its jaws," Fritz said unworriedly.

"Fortunately, we've got quite a bit of experience dealing with strange beasts. You could even be accused of being adequately conditioned."

"Really?" Clover asked from where she sat on the sand.

"Maybe," Fritz hedged.

"Another month or two of training and you could call yourself capable." Her face fell at the statement, and she lowered her eyes. Seeing this, Fritz amended, "My apologies. I seem to have inherited my tutor's harsh tongue and severe conduct. You're all far more competent than I have the right to hope for."

"Thanks, that was nearly praise," Toby said.

"As close as you're going to get, you villain," Fritz replied, smiling. Mel snorted.

"So what are we going to do about these beasts?" Reed asked.

"I can't see any, but I got the bad feeling there's a whole lot more of them out there."

"I have no doubt your suspicions are true. There must be dozens of the horrible beasts under the beach. However, we'll be heading into the jungle, the Stairway is in there somewhere," Fritz provided, gesturing to the dense foliage about a mile away. The crew stared over the stretch of sand and steadied themselves. Though they didn't show any fear on their steeled faces, Fritz could see it flit above their heads. It was a healthy worry, one that would keep them sharp and didn't need addressing or any reassurance.

Still, Fritz thought, it would be good to show some foresight. He quickly set down his pack and pulled out three short steel rods, then set their ends together and twisted. They stuck to one another, forming a six-foot pole. He swept it and spun it, swiftly running through a staff-fighting drill. It occurred to him that perhaps he should have wielded the sectioned staff against the glass beasts. He discarded the notion.

Although he had some proficiency with that style of weapon, Adam's regimen made sure of that, he wasn't nearly practised enough with it. Nor was he confident that he could evade and attack effectively against such a potent foe, not when compared to Quicksilver and Mortal Edge at least.

"Fancy stuff," Mel said after Fritz finished spinning the steel.

"Is all that any good for fighting?"

"Not particularly," Fritz said.

"Though I don't plan on using it for that. I'll simply be checking the sand with it." He smiled, then began to poke the shore in front of him in way of explanation.

"It might not ward off the spines, but it should give me enough warning not to step on one of the buried beasts. Onwards." Fritz set off. The pole, it turned out, served its purpose not once, but twice. With sure stabs, it had struck scaly flesh below the sands before his Danger Sense had warned him off their sudden bites. While he may have been able to dodge the lizard's attempts without the staff's assistance, it allowed him another precious moment with which to evade more easily. One he was glad to have.

It was good to be prepared. The beasts fell as the first had, without much trouble, save for an errant spine that cut into Toby's arm as it passed by. It was a shallow wound, and thankfully free of any venom. After the third lizard died, its skull pierced by Reed, wielding Mel's pick, Clover made an observation that brought them to a halt.

"You know, they look like good eatin'."

"Are you blind? They look like poison," Reed said.

"Smell like it, too," he added as he pried his borrowed weapon from its head. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

"You never know," Mel said.

"It might be closer to rat than mutton, but it could be eatable."

"Edible," Fritz corrected absently.

"Yeah, that." Mel nodded.

"It stinks like a skulg and likely tastes like one," Reed argued. Trudges stomach gurgled.

"We could still try it," Clover said.

"Suit yourself, but I ain't checking it for poison," Reed stated. Fritz furrowed his brow, not out of annoyance, but out of consideration. He himself didn't feel hungry, as he'd eaten recently. Though he did have a sense of hollowness in his stomach, like his meals had been light, not as filling as they should have been. He assumed the feeling was due to his body being accustomed to mana-dense meats and fruits. Fritz approached the corpse and collected a drop of the reeking blood on his finger.

He tasted it, then grimaced and spat. It was foul, as Reed had predicted, but not poison. His bones hadn't burned at all.

"Disgusting," Fritz reported.

"Though edible."

"Well, there's wood just over there, so we can cook it," Mel said.

"Is it worth it?" Reed asked.

"I mean, just how much longer are we gonna be in the Spire? Long enough to go hungry?"

"A good question," Fritz said. He pulsed his Awareness again, attempting to get a feel for the distance between them and the Stairway. The sensation was faint.

"It's quite far. Perhaps a full day's march, perhaps two." It wasn't ideal, and Fritz would have avoided such a large Floor if the other choices hadn't been far deadlier.

"Two days," Reed repeated.

"I'm nearing the end of my rations, but I think I can stretch them that long."

"There's no need to. An hour or two cooking up these beasts won't hinder us much," Fritz said.

"Not with the greater stamina recovery mana-dense meals provide. Butcher what we can, then we'll cook it in the jungle where we won't be out in the open." And so it was. The beast was butchered, and they filled the last of their sacks with its meat, leaving the scales, spines and fangs behind. They already had enough weighing them down; the gold, especially, was a burden. The trek to the jungle found them ambushed by another of the solitary sand lizards. It was also slaughtered, then stripped of flesh.

Eventually, they reached the vivid greenery, but didn't venture in right away. Fritz signed for them to wait while he scouted ahead. Setting down his pack and sacks, he drew Mortal Edge and stalked into the jungle. It was warm and humid, and unusually quiet. No bird calls rang out, and all that could be heard was the rustling of the wind through the undergrowth. The scent of mud and dirt pervaded, mingling with a bitter smell that leaked from the leaves.

There was also another note, a pungent sweetness that seeped from the red vines crawling up the tall trees. Fritz was somewhat surprised to see that the vines bore fruit, something akin to a scarlet plum. In the dark under the canopy, they glowed with a gentle light, pulsing seductively. He didn't need a Poison Sense to tell that these 'plums' were toxic; their scent alone was so saccharine, so cloying, that they couldn't have been grown for any purpose other than to induce temptation.

A trap, yet his Trap Sense was silent. If it were due to a shrouding magic the vines possessed, or if there were something greater at play, Fritz couldn't guess. He continued deeper into the jungle, avoiding any ferns or trees that were grasped by the creeping vines. Minutes later, a clicking sounded ahead and to his right, then a lower clicking and thin whistle cut through the near silence. He crouched down and remained still, pulling his cloak close.

There was a disturbance, a swaying leaf moved oddly, then the other around it followed. Soon, a fern bowed gently and a beast stalked into view. It was a lizard, too, but one unlike those on the beach. This beast was also short, though it was green-scaled rather than grey. Its head sat upon a long neck, reaching at most to Fritz's shoulder. It crept closer on two lithe legs, and it clicked a pale, bony beak.

A lean mane of red feathers ran from the crest of its brow all the way to the end of a plumed tail, and it had two nimble arms ending in wicked claws. The lizard-thing turned its head this way and that, mustard-yellow eyes searching the shadows. It stepped closer and closer to where he hid. Fritz was sure he could slay the beast himself, and without much effort, if it was alone. Unfortunately, it wasn't.

Three more of its kind, that he could see, skulked in the jungle around him, clicking and clacking, parting ferns delicately with their clever talons and peering behind them. One came within a foot of where Fritz crouched, its tail swishing dangerously close to his face. Yet, that was the closest they came. Long, dreadful minutes passed as they hunted, and although he was right within their midst, they never found him.

The lizards left with disappointed whines and whistles, loping lightly into the jungle in search of other prey. Fritz didn't move out immediately; he waited. Caution was more than warranted in such straits. While he lingered, he noticed an oddity. His cloak wasn't quite the right shade. Though it was still grey, its hue had taken on a green undertone where it aligned with the foliage and brown where it alighted on dirt or bark.

It was a subtle thing, only the slightest of shifts, but it was a promising property nonetheless. Once he was sure it was safe, he carefully snuck back to his crew and appeared before them.

"How's the jungle look?" Reed asked.

"It's... perilous," Fritz replied, then he swiftly reported his findings.

"Poisonous fruits and packs of hound-sized lizards?" Mel asked.

"Doesn't sound too deadly."

"A bit larger than a hound, though in essence, yes," Fritz said.

"However, we shouldn't underestimate them." He then laid out a plan to attract the beasts and ambush them. The fresh meat would suffice in suitable bait, and he'd noticed that while the lizards had stalked him, they, just as he did, avoided the vines. So it was that they pushed into the jungle for a few minutes before setting up their trap. They hid beside and behind the red choked trees, though made sure not to touch them. They lay in wait. Minutes crawled past. Three, then six, then nine.

Fritz sweat, his brow beading. He wasn't alone in that; he could see a steady trickle dripping from Trudge's chin. Still, no one stirred, tensely holding their stances. A click and a whistle slipped through the rustling jungle, then was echoed.

"Ready yourselves." Fritz signed. The crew's knuckles whitened, and their eyes darted as the creatures skulked toward the flesh piled upon a flat stone. Fritz had feared that they'd be chanced upon, he was more than relieved to be wrong. The lizards, a whole seven of them, enraptured by the foul blood's scent, rushed to gobble up as much as they could. Clacking and chirping, they surrounded and savaged the strips of meat, pecking and pushing each other for the best places and pieces.

Fritz cast Gloom Strike and loosed his crossbow. The shadow-wreathed bolt quietly soared, right into the flank of one of the beasts. It hissed and turned, seemingly thinking that another of its pack had bitten it, snapping back angrily. When it found the fletching sticking out of its flesh, it shrieked a warning and its feathery crest unfurled in a fountain of red. The shrill warning came too late. The crew were already upon them, having leapt at the beasts too focused on their feeding to react.

Three lizards fell in the first moments, two of the smaller ones then fled, and the last two had wounds that rendered them unable to escape. Less than thirty seconds later, the ambush was over, five dead at their feet.

"That was easy," Trudge observed.

"Hah. Cause we got the jump on those greedy bastards," Mel said, chuckling.

"Unfortunately, they have eaten most of the monster meat, and what's left doesn't look too appetising," Fritz said.

"Good, that stuff smelled rotten anyway. But these lizards don't smell too bad," Reed pointed out.

"Those fruits look delicious," Clover said.

"Are you sure they're poisonous?" Fritz stifled a sigh, but supposed he could at least test both the fleshy bounties of the beasts and the vines. And so he did. The feathered lizards were safe to eat, and a good sight more tasty than the spiny ones. That didn't make the meat anything close to decent fare, but beggars can't be choosers, as he well knew. The fruits were as he had thought, sweet, succulent and absolutely deadly.

Before he set a drop of vibrantly virulent juice to his lips, his stomach clenched from false, but agonising, pain. The excruciating, though completely illusory poison slithered through his guts, and he retched and spat from just its phantom. He threw the fruit he had picked far away and quickly rinsed his hands with his borrowed waterskin.

"That bad?" Toby asked, eyebrows raised.

"Worse than bad, lethal," Fritz said, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

"Don't even think of picking any, Toby."

"What? Why would I do that?" Toby asked innocently, though he didn't fool Fritz.

"Because of your absurd poison obsession."

"It's not an obsession," Toby said.

"It's an appreciation."

"Well, don't go risking your agonising death due to an appreciation," Fritz warned.

"Fine," Toby grumbled.

"Not that I was going to in the first place." Fritz narrowed his eyes at the man, feeling the thrum of falsehood run down their thread. Toby looked away, then stepped clear of the vine he'd be closest to.

"The lizards are okay? Aren't they?" Trudge asked.

"They're safe."

"Then let's get to butchering them," Mel said practically. Fritz nodded, and they got to work. He also kept an ear and an eye out for any new packs attracted by all the screeching or the scent of blood. It was good that he did; another six lizards had stealthily approached, giving themselves away only by a reedy whistle just on the edge of hearing. Fritz signalled to hide, and again they ambushed the beasts.

They were just as easily defeated due to their gluttonous abandon, and much to Fritz's delight, their feathered crests were the violet of sunset.

"Pluck the feathers," he ordered, once the last had fallen to Quicksilver's point.

"How about you pluck yourself?" Toby said softly. Mel snorted, and Trudge covered a smile. Clover and Reed scowled.

"What was that?" Fritz asked, feigning a bout of deafness.

"Nothing, Captain," Toby said quickly. Fritz flicked the blood off his blade and sheathed it.

"If it's nothing, then get back to scavenging. I want a full sack of those purple feathers." He obeyed, as did the others. Once more, he and his crew were interrupted by another pack, but they fared just as well as the two previous packs. Soon, they had a large pile of scaly remains, too many bodies to loot in any reasonable time, so Fritz eventually had them move location, leaving behind most of the dead for any further roaming lizards to feast on.

For hours they pushed deeper into the jungle and eventually chanced upon a small cave. Though it was crowded with the full six of them inside, it provided shelter from a sudden downpour and allowed them to cook the lizard meat they had kept for themselves. They skewered the chunks and strips and roasted them over a fire-pit. Fat dripped, hissed and spat, and a strangely delectable scent filled the cave. To Fritz's and the crew's surprise, the meat was actually pleasant.

Though it was greasy and a tad gamy, it lacked any bitter or metallic taint they had come to expect from the denizens of the Sunken Spire. They ate ravenously. Trudge sighed contentedly.

"That was delicious." That seemed to be the consensus, so Fritz didn't correct them, though he knew better. After praising the food, they set in to sleep, and they slept without issue. The next day, when the rain had stopped, they continued their trek. Gradually, the ground's slight incline grew steeper. The combination of dense jungle and hilly conditions slowed their progress to a crawl. They sweat, they struggled, they staggered. But they persevered, muddily and muddling.

Fritz considered discarding some of their gold to lighten their load, but when he brought it up to the crew, they staunchly disagreed. Which he was secretly thankful for, loath as he was to leave anything of value behind. Another pack of lizards picked up their tracks, and though the crew had not the element of surprise, they still handily defeated the devious and delectable things.

They suffered a few wounds, of course, but they had plenty of healing grease, which Clover gently applied when needed, or simply requested. Clover herself had also recovered significantly, her spirit returning with rest and time, just as Fritz suspected it would. They trudged up the hill, Fritz hacking their way forward, Quicksilver cutting fern and branch alike. He panted, sweat and cursed under his breath, but knew they were close to the way out.

He pushed harder, forcing his feet forward through the squelching mud. Eventually, he was at his limit, as was the crew, and they had to rest, again and against his desire. There was no lucky cave this time. Instead, they made camp under the branches of a huge, gnarled tree. One without vines. When they woke, it was to see that the base of the tree that was their shelter during the night was now riddled with vines.

Those red cords had silently crept up from the dirt and strangled their verdant protector while they rested. Fritz felt affronted; he wanted to slash them to pieces, but knew it was a waste of both time and effort. He suppressed his need for vengeance and pulsed his Awareness. The Stairway would have been less than an hour away in more favourable conditions, but in this horrible jungle, it would be at least thrice that.

Still, he steadied himself, spoke to and reassured his crew and continued up the hill, through the green and red. A fourth and final pack opposed them, it was larger than the others and the battle was bitter and brutal. Cuts abounded, and bites bled. They only gave cursory care to their wounds, pressing on to the Well that they knew was ahead. The hours that followed were torture; it was too hot, too wet, too slippery, and every moment was one of aches and exhaustion.

Fritz hissed through his teeth with each awful step, dripping and determined. When he eventually lay eyes on the green marble of the Stairway, nearly hidden in the foliage, he wept. It was easy to disguise his tears as sweat, and he wasn't the only one doing so. Sniffles and quiet sobs followed in his wake. Fritz didn't stop striding forward for even a second. Only when his foot was on the first blissfully solid step did he sigh. Then, once he was fully within the Stairway, he allowed himself to drop.

Trickling in behind, Toby, Mel, Clover, Trudge and then lastly Reed joined him, sitting heavily on the now cramped steps. Some cried openly now, and others simply bowed their heads and caught their breath. Their faces were open books, and Fritz could see that they were all thinking the same thing as he. It's over.