Chương 99: Just run

Cal vaulted over a waist-high root, his boots finding purchase for a second before he launched himself across a chasm. Behind him, the E-tier vorlag flowed over the same obstacle with sinuous grace, its immense body dislodging loose stones that clattered into the darkness below. Fifty feet of serpent as thick as his waist. Its bark-like scales slithered against wood and stone with a rasping scraping that never stopped, a constant reminder of death breathing down his neck.

Slamming into moss-slicked wood on the far side, he absorbed the impact with bent knees and immediately pivoted into a sprint towards where [Spatial Mapping] had outlined the next obstacle in his mind: a root angled across the passage like a ramp. He hit it at full speed, momentum carrying him up the incline. At the apex he bounded, planting a foot against the edge and hurling his body forward across empty air.

His hands closed around a hanging root, immediately converting the momentum into a pendulum swing; his legs scissoring through the void before he let go to land in a controlled tumble. His perception tracked the serpent as it reached the incline. The creature simply poured itself over the obstacle, its massive frame negotiating the terrain with ease. It's not even trying! This is a leisurely hunt for that thing! Cal pushed off and ran. His breath came in ragged gasps, pluming from his mouth in the cold air.

Deepgleam lichen cast shifting pools of silvery-green light across the roots, creating a surreal landscape of organic curves and deep shadows that he sped past. The scraping sound behind him never stopped. At one point the path ended, giving way to an enormous root that angled sharply downward into darkness. Cal threw himself onto it, sliding on his boots down the moss-coated surface as a build-up of dead foliage rose to block his descent.

He tucked his shoulder and drove through it, the structure shattering around him in a cloud of brittle splinters. The serpent hit the spot a heartbeat later, and the remaining wood simply vanished, obliterated into a puff of dust by the creature's momentum. Cal's lungs burned and his thighs built up with lactic acid as he hurried on. He couldn't keep this pace forever, but slowing down meant a fight he didn't want.

The path ahead constricted, forcing him through a narrow gap between two huge roots, barely wide enough for his shoulders. He twisted sideways and scraped through the opening, his chest armor grating loudly against the wood. An instant later, the serpent's head appeared above the gap's entrance, its jaws opening wide to reveal venom-dripping fangs before it lunged. He surged forward, and the powerful jaws closed on nothing, missing his trailing leg by inches.

Stumbling from the effort, he recovered his balance and immediately launched back into a desperate sprint. A fork appeared ahead, his perception rendering two distinct paths. To the left, a cluster of weaker auras indicated what was probably a communal nest of F-tier vorlags. To the right, the path sloped downward into the earth with no nearby threats he could detect.

Cal banked right without conscious thought, his boots pounding down the sloping tunnel as massive roots grew sparser, replaced by natural stone walls slick with moisture. Stalactites appeared overhead, their tips glistening with condensation. The drip of water echoed in the growing space, a counterpoint to the relentless scrape of scales behind him. Minutes blurred into a marathon of effort and terror. His [Running] Skill carried him through switchbacks and his [Balance] kept him upright on treacherous footing.

Twice more he executed controlled slides down steep inclines, his boots carving furrows through moss and loose gravel. Once, he leapt a crevasse that yawned like a wound in the stone, the sound of rushing water echoing from below as he pushed his body to its absolute limit and flung himself over the gap. Eventually, the scraping of the vorlag grew fainter. Risking a glance over his shoulder, Cal saw that the tunnel behind him was empty.

His perception confirmed it; the serpent's aura was still pursuing, but the distance between them had grown to several hundred yards. It's losing me! Hope sparked in his chest. He kept running, shortsword scabbard slapping against his leg while his body demanded rest. The tunnel ahead opened into a larger space where the ceiling rose into darkness and the drip of water grew louder, ringing from a dozen sources at once.

Stumbling into the cavern, Cal swept his perception across the space, his [Spatial Mapping] building a mental image of the terrain. The chamber was roughly circular and fifty yards across, its uneven floor dotted with shallow pools of water. Stalactites hung from the ceiling like jagged teeth, and thick patches of glowing lichen along the walls provided barely enough light to navigate by. On the far side of the chamber was a dark hole angled steeply downward, almost a vertical descent. His stomach dropped.

One exit. He'd run himself into a dead end. Cal slowed and doubled over, hands on his knees, dragging air into his heaving lungs. His legs trembled with exhaustion, the muscles twitching involuntarily while sweat soaked his undershirt. The scraping sound returned, whispering from the tunnel he'd just exited. Cal straightened, retrieving his spear from behind his pack where he'd shoved it. His perception tracked the approaching aura as it grew closer, that imposing presence sliding through the passage inevitably.

The dark hole on the far side of the cavern drew his gaze, his mind weighing the options. Unknown versus known - anything could be down there. I'll take the unknown instead of a fifty-foot monster that wants to swallow me alive. He started jogging toward the exit, spear held ready. As he approached, his perception brushed against the opening and his body locked up, overriding his conscious will for a moment. His perception slammed into an aura of primal terror.

The wave struck him on a visceral level, bypassing analysis entirely; his spirit recoiled from something fundamentally wrong. Beneath that feeling of dread, scattered like grave markers, he felt the hungry purple auras of carrion bloom. The connection left him shaken. This was the instinct that had made him flee at the edge of the bone pit in the matriarch's cavern. The absolute certainty that whatever lurked in that hole was a predator far beyond his current league.

Better the enemy I know than whatever monstrosity calls that place home. Cal turned, planting his feet as the vorlag slithered into the cavern. The serpent's massive body filled the tunnel entrance and stopped, swaying its wedge-shaped head from side to side as its black eyes fixed on him and its tongue darted out. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Crumb. The F-tier version attacked immediately on instinct. Is this thing actually thinking?

The serpent began to coil, its body forming loops that stacked against themselves while its head remained elevated, watching him with apparent intelligence that made his skin crawl. Cal started forward, bringing the fight to the enemy as his body flowed from stance to motion in a perfect thrust. The claw-iron tip lanced toward the serpent's exposed flank, aimed at the gap between two scales. The spearpoint slammed into the beast with a ringing report, the sound of iron striking granite.

The scales are hard as stone! Vibrating through the wooden shaft, the impact rattled his arms as the tip screeched across the bark-like surface; the scales deflecting the blow. All he'd managed was a small fracture and scratch for his efforts. The serpent's response was immediate and devastating. A horizontal strike flashed through the air as its tail whipped around, Cal's perception crying out a warning. He dove left.

The tail missed by inches and smashed into a nearby stalagmite with a crack like a gunshot, exploding the stone pillar and spraying shards of rock across the cavern floor. Cal rolled to his feet, his mind cataloging the display of power. That would have shattered every bone it connected with! The serpent uncoiled slightly, shifting its bulk to face him. Its tongue tasted the air again. Then it lunged. Burning a [Flicker Step], he hopped backward ten feet as the world smeared around him.

The fangs snapped shut on empty air and the great head slammed into the stone floor hard enough to splinter it, while the creature recovered instantly, its body gliding into a new coil to reposition. It's fast and strong, and its scales are even tougher at this tier. I need to hit a vulnerable point to have any chance of damaging it. He circled left, keeping his spear between himself and the serpent. The creature mirrored his movements, its body shifting smoothly as they circled in a slow orbit around each other.

Cal feinted high, then pivoted and drove a [Sundering Strike] toward the damaged scale. His body compressed into the blow, every ounce of strength in his upper body super-charged by Stamina and channeled through the spear tip. The weapon punched through the weakened armor and managed to sink a few inches into the flesh beneath. Dark blood welled from the wound. Recoiling with a hiss like steam escaping a boiler, the serpent whipped its tail around in an arc that couldn't be dodged.

Cal reacted on instinct, snapping his spear into a guard. The spear shaft bowed under the strain, and the strike hurled him backward, his boots spraying water on the wet stone. His whole upper body hurt from the effort of absorbing and redirecting the blow, but he'd drawn blood. Finally. However, the trickle of dark fluid was a mockery of the resources he'd expended. He could feel the protective liner in his channels already running thin. That was one of my best shots, yet tis but a flesh wound…

A blur of motion signaled the serpent's lunge. Cal burned [Flicker Step] to hop sideways just as fangs snapped where his ribs had been. A low sweep from its tail immediately scraped across the ground, forcing him to expend another [Flicker Step] to move out of the strike's range. He was purely on the defensive in this chaotic dance for survival. While his mind worked furiously, his [Combat Analysis] dissected every twitch of the creature's muscles to predict its next move.

When the last of his first elixir's protection burned away and left his channels raw, he quickly downed a second. There is a tell. The upper coils tighten a fraction of a second before a lunge, and its lower body shifts its weight before a sweep. He tested the theory, using a shorter, more efficient [Flicker Step] to dodge the next lunge, staying closer than before. The serpent recoiled and lunged again, exactly as he predicted. He had the pattern.

With his analysis complete and the trajectory locked in his mind, he ignored the oncoming lunge. It was time for overwhelming force. He ignited [Crimson Overdrive], and the second meridian liner instantly began boiling away under the strain. A corona of red fire erupted around him, painting the cavern walls in a bloody light. He funneled the devastating power directly into [Lancing River], detonating the energy in a unified strike aimed where he knew the serpent's eye would be.

But the creature's body and instincts were somehow faster. Its head dropped in the final moment, turning the lethal blow into a glancing one. The spear missed the eye and slammed into the top of its skull with the force of a sledgehammer. He felt a thick bone beneath the scales fracture through the vibrations in his spear shaft; the thrust gouged a bloody furrow along the beast's skull before the dense muscle beneath deflected the blade.

The impact hurled the serpent's head against the cavern wall, shattering stone. As Cal stumbled forward, he immediately dropped his boosting Ability and felt his channel's protection completely consumed. With trembling fingers, he reached for his pouch and pulled out the third elixir, uncorking the vial and downing the pink fluid just as the serpent recovered. It pushed itself from the wall, shaking its head, and thick blood sprayed from its wound to run from the cut over its eye.

The serpent reared back, its head rising to be even with Cal. It swayed from side to side, its forked tongue flicking out to clean the blood and clear its vision. Why is it so much stronger than the rotter? Their relative power levels feel the sa— He triggered another [Flicker Step] to dodge its retaliatory strike. The fangs missed his throat by an inch, close enough to feel the displaced air. He landed hard, stumbled, and barely kept his balance. I can't win this.

The reality became more clear as he dodged another furious lunge. He had landed his ultimate attack, a desperate gamble that consumed nearly all his resources, and it wasn't enough. The creature was wounded and enraged, but far from defeated. His perception tracked the serpent as it coiled again, while his mind delivered its grim conclusion. There's only one variable left that can change this outcome: the runic whistle. I need to create an opening.

Cal immediately used [Dash], launching backward to create space while his hand shot under his armor, fingers pulling out the silver device. The serpent's tail struck the ground beside it and rocketing a spray of debris across the cavern floor. Cal flinched, his attention shifting as a fist-sized rock whizzed past his head. In that split second of distraction, the serpent lunged. He threw himself sideways, burning a desperate [Flicker Step] in his hurry to escape.

The fangs shot past his throat, the jaws snapping shut on the braided leather cord around his neck. The cord snapped. With a glint, the silver whistle arced through the air and disappeared into the shadows, its fall marked by a mocking clink. No! The serpent flowed forward, pressing the attack. Cal backpedaled, his spear coming up in a series of desperate blocks that deflected strike after strike.

Each impact sent shockwaves up his arms, and he could feel the third elixir's protection melting away with alarming speed as he used his movement Abilities only as a last resort. A tail strike came low, and he hopped over it; [Combat Analysis] immediately flagged the mistake. For a single moment, he was airborne. Helpless. The serpent's skull waited at the spot his arc would end, jaws hinged wide, ivory teeth ready. Cal twisted in midair, trying to alter his path, but physics was an uncaring master.

He landed directly in the creature's strike zone. The fangs punched through the leather armor on his calf and sank deep into muscle. Pain shot up his leg, followed by a terrifying tingling sensation. Pins and needles, thousands of them, spreading from the wound like wildfire. A scream tore from his throat. His hands choked up on the spear shaft and he drove a weaker stab at the serpent's head. The creature barely moved, turning its skull slightly so the blow landed on undamaged scales and skittered away.

Cal fumbled at his belt pouch, clumsy fingers closing around the vial of anti-venom. He yanked it free, popped the cork, and downed the milky-orange liquid in a desperate swallow. The serpent released his leg. Before Cal could react, the head snapped forward and clamped down on his spear shaft. An impossibly strong twist ripped the weapon from his grasp, and the serpent tossed it aside to clatter across the stone, far out of reach. Cal stood unarmed.

His calf throbbed with each heartbeat, the prickling already fading, replaced by a petrifying numbness that spread up his leg like ice water. He tried to shift his weight and nearly fell, the limb dead and unresponsive. The serpent began to coil around him, its body flowing in quick loops. The first coil wrapped around his legs, pinning them. Next, it encircled his waist. The third crossed his chest, and the pressure began. His ribs creaked.

Air was driven from his lungs in a forced exhalation, and when he tried to breathe in his chest couldn't expand. The constriction increased, inexorable and mechanical, each coil tightening by degrees. Pressure pinned his left arm and shortsword while his vision narrowed, dark spots dancing at the edges as the numbness spread to his hips. The serpent's head loomed before him, so close he could see his own pale reflection in its black eyes. The forked tongue flicked out, tasting his fear.

Cal's world narrowed to three sensations: the crushing pressure on his ribs, the spreading numbness consuming his body, and the absolute, helpless certainty that he was going to die. Again.