Elias ended up luring a total of three more Urstok into the arena like formation. Each time he employed a similar tactic as before—one that worked. He would engage in a brief tussle with the tongues, utilising his essence infused Mana Barrier, then, once he'd set a tempo for the fight and tempted the creature into a melee, he would patiently await the blind charge. From there, he would quickly put an end to them.
The first went smoothly and he was able to re-enact the same gruesome finisher as he had in the first encounter.
The second fight ended up with him entangled in the Urstoks thick, muscled legs—and he ended up pushing a burst of Essence out through his barrier to escape. The disruption of his attack and the creatures newfound wariness had caused a drawn-out engagement. Elias did eventually win, although it was at a significantly higher cost than the previous bouts.
The final and third fight went without complication, and, if anything it seemed easier than the past few. A quick scan revealed why:
[Name: Urstok – Race: Urstok – Tier: 1 – Level: 6]
"Hmm," Elias sounded as he found himself deep in thought, "I guess even creatures can level? If creatures can level through the system, maybe they can learn skills too?"
It was a scary possibility and he immediately began to imagine how difficult higher Tier battles would be. Creatures that progressed through the Tiers, much like the Awakened humanoid species, would have unpredictable strengths and powers. He shook himself back to the corpse of the final Urstok in front of him.
"Don't worry about that for now… why don't I just survive today?" he said.
Finally, he allowed the notifications that had piled up to float into his view.
[Name: Elias Grey
Race: Human, Male
Age: 17
Disabled Functionality: N/A
Disabled Functionality: N/A
Life Points: 47 / 104
Mana Points: 0 / 68
Essence: 38 / 10
Strength: 19
Endurance: 17
Vitality: 17
Willpower: 24
Intelligence: 22
Perception: 18
Agility: 16
Luck: 37
Available Attributes for distribution: 0
Titles:
Brave Antagonist,
Potential Prodigy,
Survivor,
Seedling,
Aberration Slayer,
Skilled,
Innate Abilities:
Corrupted Core - Unique - Tier 0, Level 2
Skills:
Mana Manipulation - Basic - Tier 0, Level 2
Mana Barrier - Basic - Tier 0, Level 6
Scan - Basic - Tier 0, Level 2]
He had gained a level in Mana Barrier—which he had expected. The consistent use had been necessary to avoid the poison barbed tongues. He'd also gained a level in Corrupted core. The effects were more than he had expected: He'd gained a bonus plus one to all attributes and five to each his life and mana, as well as a plus one percent to all of the same. This was significantly better than the benefits his other skills gave, which were between and one and two stats each; according to Uthred, that was the norm.
On top of all of that, his Essence storage had doubled. He could now store up to ten Essence without any side effects. He still found himself confused however, as he'd been unable to sense any side effects other than the slight crimson tint that shrouded his vision, his mood was relatively passive compared to the eruption in the village and, his efforts to control or direct the Essence had been successful so far. Albeit, with a lack of finesse.
Whilst he had hoped that the Innate Ability would only tint his vision, something inside him told him that wasn't the case. He knew he couldn't do anything about it now. "Focus… Focus on what's ahead of you," he said as he wiped his dirty hands through his unkempt hair.
After one more slow and deliberate breath, he brought the last notification into view:
[Quest: Survive Part: 2 has been updated – New sub-objective: Slay inhabitants of the Dungeon: 4 / 10]
And so, the hours passed. How many? He didn't truly know, his concept of time blurred in the underground mesa. What he did know was that the battles were going to get a lot harder from now on.
He stood over the sixth Urstok; his sword set deep in the maw of the beast as spoke through laboured breaths, "That was…not fun…that…hurt."
Blood ran down his side as pain echoed across his now sticky-with-Urstok-blood limbs. His Essence had run out and his mana was gone.
He had thought that he'd be able to manage the sixth Urstok as easily as the previous; the fifth had only taken eight essence and it was dead almost as soon as the battle had started. This unholy bastard? No. This decrepit creature was something else. Not only did it attack with a nightmarish barrage of tongues, it had used its crooked hooked feet as weapons, lashing out wildly. He had been caught unawares by the new tactic and the beast's feet had sliced straight into his gut and pinned him to the ground. In a desperate attempt to survive, he'd taken out the obsidian knife; uncaring of the repercussions and flailed wildly at the Urstok.
The knife had proven more than capable, and it had turned the tide of the fight just in time. Every blow that made contact with the beast caused it to reel in pain with dark tendrils dancing out from the point of impact.
He had struck out at the beast relentlessly, receiving as much damage as he dealt. In the end, he had survived the encounter—just.
[Life Points: 8 / 105]
"Shit…" he breathed as he reached out to grab the healing salve from his pouch. He cursed again, louder as he realised he'd already thrown it aside. Instead he began tearing at the bottom of his already split trousers and using the strips to stem the worst bleeds.
He glanced around the cavern, the glow from the crystal lights casting eerie shadows on the walls. The bodies of fallen Urstoks lay scattered, their forms a reminder of his 'adventure' so far.
When he had first stepped into the portal, fear had been what drove him. Every sound and every movement made him tense. The horrific and bewildering creatures: the Urstok, had originally seemed impossible to defeat—yet, he had managed. He had grown. If someone had said he'd be facing down a six-legged acid slug in one-on-one combat, he'd have scoffed. Now? He'd fought six and had no plans to stop—
--The gaping wounds across his body, however, had other plans. He had no choice but to rest. He wouldn't be able to fight again until he recovered, which led him to a far more pressing concern: his stomach, and not the wound across it, no, it was the resoundingly loud gurgle that was repeating itself. He was starving.
He hadn't eaten anything since before entering the catacombs and a significant amount of time had passed since then. He had a small amount of dried rations, but they'd only last a day.
With his spare hand, the one not clutching the wounds on his stomach, he reached into his backpack and drew out a handful of rations to eat. No choice but to wait out his injuries.
At some point during his sustenance break, Elias had fallen asleep—a sleep induced by pure exhaustion and injury.
Groggily, he opened his eyes.
"Maybe… Maybe I don't need to be an adventurer after all?" He said to himself as he felt pain surging across his body, "Agh…who am I kidding? I need this. Come on, Elias…"
The pain was an obvious sign that he had not fully recovered from his resting and he checked his vitals:
[Life Force: 10 / 105]
[Mana: 4 / 68]
The small recovery to both of his vital stats meant that rest alone wouldn't be sufficient to clear the Dungeon… not in the next few years at least.
He eventually decided to move to a less ichor-infested spot within his makeshift arena and began to plan out his next moves. He couldn't fight, he knew that. But he couldn't waste anymore of his time. His eyes moved around the arena, fixating on two things: the pulsating moss that wrapped around the crystal outcroppings and the unique flora that littered the damper areas.
"Maybe it would be like the forest?" he thought. The flora had to have their own uses and he had to find a source of food and water—the dungeon equivalent of fruit could be staring at him and, after a small amount of procrastination, he started his work.
A few days passed with his schedule switching between sleeping and gathered, which soon turned into exploring; once his life had recovered to a point where he thought he had a chance of escaping a fight.
The results of his gathering and exploration were, mixed. He had used all his dried food and was on the last drops of water from his waterskins, after having rationed quite extensively. In front of him sat a variety of piles of plants, small insects and moss. As well as various cuts of Urstok carcass: a tongue, thigh, a slither of yellow flesh and, a piece of cracked carapace.
His exploration had yielded nothing more than a good overview of his immediate surroundings: which were more of the same, wide open areas of rocky expanse and smaller crystal enclosed areas—which felt like rooms within the dungeon. Much like his arena.
He'd not been able to explore any additional rooms due to the presence of creatures, the wide open areas had beasts every few hundred meters, give or take, the rooms had six or seven within a hundred meters. Way too many for him to tackle.
He'd also found that the flora in this section of the dungeon was the same as that of the other areas in the immediate vicinity. He figured that unless the biome he was in changed, he was unlikely to find anything other than what lay in front of him.
Now, he was hungry, thirsty and desperate. He'd been unable to find a running water source and the dank puddles of dirties water spoke of inevitable disease.
It now left him decided between two entities: Urstok… or pulsating moss?
The thought of either made his stomach lurch, the pulsating moss felt moist on his hand and beat like a heart, even when removed from the Crystals or rocks and even worse, it seemed to latch onto his hand slightly every time he handled it. He figured that the moistness in the moss might be enough to sustain his thirst and the 'meat' of the flora might be enough to stop him starving entirely.
The Urstok on the other hand; it's ichor-filled yellow flesh, crispy carapace, juicy toxin-filled tongues and tough, sinewy thigh—well, they were just as they appeared. Horrific, but the best of the other options he had available.
Ultimately, both options were less than appealing. He had just felt a draw to these, like his instincts were speaking to him, and, something told him that his instincts were something he'd need to listen to in this isolated place.
With a sigh, he steeled himself, his body tensing as he made his decision. His hand drew closer to his open mouth and his stomach turned with anticipation. A lump formed in his throat as if it were trying to raise a barrier preventing entry.
He bit down and a squelch of wet, gritty and surprisingly fleshy moss pulsated in his mouth. The severed moss beating still. He chewed as its pulse fought back—he almost puked from the texture alone. He held it in, and then, he swallowed.
"That's—" He began, interrupted by a gasp for air and his own dry heaving, "—That's absolutely disgusting!"
He shook himself, "Can It get any worse?" He thought to himself, a small bite was never going to sustain him… He had to suck it up. He drew the moss closer to his lips again, knowing that he needed to get it over with.
As he was about to bite down, he stopped suddenly. A sensation began to swarm his throat, and then his oesophagus, all the way down to his stomach. He threw the remaining moss to the ground and grabbed at his water skin, "It's empty?!" he thought as he tried to pour the non-existent water down his throat.
The sensation was spreading. He'd done it, he'd fucked it. What an idiot. What an—
[Orus Moss consumed:
Life Regeneration: Minor – Active for 00:30Mana Regeneration: Minor – Active for 00:30]
The adrenaline that had shot through his body had begun to calm as sweat ran down his forehead. He slumped to the floor once more and watched as the timer moved from thirty minutes, to fifteen and then, all the way down to…
"Effects from Orus Moss: Expired."
He grimaced as he looked at his statistics, the moss had recovered about a quarter of his total life and mana in half an hour. That was huge! He expected that it was the same amount as a fight with an Urstok would take without his Essence.
Why was he grimacing? Because that meant, he had to eat more.
Reluctantly, he pulled the moss back towards his mouth and endured a second traumatising gourmet experience… nothing.
"Nothing?! Are you serious?!" He yelled, whilst the familiar noise of his stomach lurching and his uncontrollable dry heaving flowed unevenly into his words, "Fucking… Fuck! Is this funny? You think this is funny?!" he yelled as his hands trembled at the unseen ceiling of darkness above him, "Hilarious! Just… hilarious…"
He had yelled for another five minutes, until he'd fully recovered from the aftertaste of the disgusting food source. The almost-living entity wriggling through his throat in pulses had calmed and he was ultimately: OK.
It turns out, you couldn't receive the effects from the moss immediately after you had already benefitted from them and he had endured a second mouthful, for nothing.
Cold and damp, he curled into a ball and slept. Tears running silently down his face, "Tessa… I need you."
The ball of frustration, sadness and self-pity he'd curled up into unravelled. There were no more tears for him to cry, no more frustration that he could vent. Only an eerie numbness throughout his entire body. His thoughts had wandered and his disdain for the System's comedic timing washed away.
As they often did, he found his thoughts wandering back to Tess. He missed her more than words could describe. The void within him deeper than the darkness of the portal he'd been sucked into. She had been more than just a friend, his connection with her was something he couldn't describe, she made him feel more—complete, more part of the world.
He'd had his fill of sorrow throughout the past few months and a quiet moment to himself ended up with only regret and self-loathing, "Why did you die?"
It was because of him,
His weakness, his lack of power. "I should be dead, not you."
He wanted to be dead; sometimes…
The feelings that overcame him in the quiet moments were masked only by the adrenaline-filled insanity that Uthred and his 'blessed' gods forced upon him and now, in this Dungeon, the overbearing finality of the Systems quest.
But, he couldn't forget that moment. When she called out to him.
"Elias! No. Please, no!" her voice resounding through his mind.
She needed him to survive, she had pleaded…
"…Yes! Not him! You don't need to hurt him."
Her voice cradled him a both warmth and, utter devastation. Her words were so clearly burnt into his psyche that he could hear her voice as vividly as on the night. Both a blessing and a curse.
He would never forget the sound of her voice—but, why were her last words so laced with despair and—her eyes…so void of hope.
These were the feeling he kept bottled up from the world. Kept away from Jacob, and then Uthred. The feelings that drove him to the insanity he now felt.
He bit down on the moss. No appetite for his previous fragility.
[Orus Moss consumed:
Life Regeneration: Minor – Active for 00:30
Mana Regeneration: Minor – Active for 00:30]
He smiled. There was a delay between the effect—which he now estimated to be around six hours, he could live with that; literally.
[Sub-Objective: Slay inhabitants of the Dungeon: 6/10]
"Four to go…" he said.