“Does it seem like these things are getting tougher?” Erin sat against a large stone and picked a leftover string of viscera from her gauntlet.

“We’re probably close to the inner mantle. Maybe even inside of it by now,” Layla sat down next to her and wiped soot off her mouth.

“I never really did follow what Toben was talking about with inner and outer and all that mess,” Erin replied.

“It’s to do with the mana density,” Rory looked up from helping Jack with the mess kit. “Mana concentrates over long periods cause of terrain, or because a bunch like us spend a metric fuck load of the same sort of mana in the same place. As it concentrates, it forms layers, like, say a big fruit. The seed is the heart, the flesh is the inner mantle, and the rind is the outer mantle. Each one you pass through, the creatures get tougher because the mana is thicker. Toben said the strongest fonts form more layers, but heart, inner, outer is the most common.”

“When’d you learn all that?” Layla quirked an eyebrow at him.

“While you were off sleeping with half of Mistelein,” he blew a raspberry at her.

“Time well spent,” she smiled fondly and laid back against a tree trunk.

Jack finished the three plates of chopped smoked meat, fruit, and a handful of berries, handing their meals off to Rory one by one.

“You know, you gripe a lot about having to cook for us, but I don’t think one meal has passed since we got here where you didn’t plate up our food,” Layla grinned at him.

“Shhh. You’ll ruin it,” Erin hissed at her, then shot Jack a smirk.

“I’ve always liked cooking,” he smiled back at her. “I made the mistake of doing it for a living for a few years and discovered I’d rather do it for fun or not at all, but you guys are my best friends, and more.”

“Awww, Jack,” Erin leaned over and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“We appreciate it, mate. I’m telling you, though, when we get to Moryven, we have to find a way to make ground meat. I would literally kill a man for a cheeseburger by now,” Rory sighed wistfully.

“Oooooo… cheeseburgers,” Erin stared at her plate.

“God, I miss sushi. And soy sauce. And pizza. Ohhhhh, mushu chicken, and chow mein, unf. And french fries. Fuck. French fries. Jack, can you make french fries?” Layla whined.

“Yeah, probably could do, actually. They had those mountain tubers in Mistelein that sort of tasted like potatoes. I bet they’d make fries. We’ll just need a better kitchen for some of that stuff,” he smiled. “Honestly, I’m kinda shocked y’all have any appetite after all this,” he waved his fork at the forest around them.

“You realize we’ve been in here for like, nine hours, right?” Layla raised an eyebrow.

He looked up, searching for the sun in the sky, finding it deep in the west, the forest canopy throwing long shadows against the ground.

“Shit. We’re gonna have to sleep here,” he cast a glance around the small clearing.

“Well, yeah,” Layla snarked.

“We should go back to that first clearing before we camp. I don’t like the idea of sleeping in the inner mantle,” he grimaced.

“What’re you worried about?” Layla groused.

“Stuff like that,” he pointed at a tree at the edge of the clearing.

“Stuff like what? I don’t see anything,” she set her plate down and craned her neck around to look where he was pointing.

The nightwraith rose from where he sat and walked to the edge of the clearing. A mass of thick, tenebrous shadow tentacles uncoiled from his arm, stretching out like a fan of questing serpents, then struck all at once against the tree, driving into the bark with a sharp crack. A spatter of milky white viscera burst from the impact point, and when the shadows drew back and wrenched themselves from the trunk, they peeled away a creature, like stripping off a particularly stubborn bandaid.

The monstrosity was four feet long from lamprey mouth and pedipalps to flopping stingered tail, built like the world’s longest, flattest sea louse had a baby with a salamander. Beneath the smooth, bark-colored, rubbery skin of it’s back, the beast had dozens of crawling legs like a crab, which trailed from front to rear. At the front end, a ring of razored teeth surrounded a needle-sharp, barbed tongue made for digging into flesh, and just outside this horrific orifice were two pairs of sharp, gripping pincers, no doubt for holding onto its prey as the tongue quested for fluids to absorb within the victim’s body. The tail terminated in a cluster of hollow stingers, like a bouquet of snake fangs, each of which dripped a virulent purple fluid.

“What. The. Unholy. Fuck. Is that?” Erin had approached and now stared over Jack’s shoulder at the creature.

He brought up his panel and gestured for her to take a look.

Your Shadow Hydra was successful.

Critical Hit! Overwhelming Strike! [Malignant] Stalker Chimera (Level 14 Elite) has been afflicted by Drain, Wither, and Puncture.

[Malignant] Stalker Chimera (Level 14 Elite) has suffered Wounded (Shock Trauma).

[Malignant] Stalker Chimera has died.

Your Ravenous Mark of the Chosen has absorbed additional experience from [Malignant] Stalker Chimera. Additional experience has been assigned to Shadowcraft.

Erin pulled up her own panel and cycled back through the lines.

“Huh. Every creature we’ve fought in here is just labeled ‘chimera’ with some adjectives,” she scowled at the panel. “That doesn’t seem helpful.”

“Doesn’t shock me, really. No rhyme or reason for how they’re put together, so probably anything gets mutated enough is just a ‘chimera’. Adjectives probably tell you what they’re built for. Bet that elite tag in front means its extra-super-venomous,” Jack grinned.

“How the hell did you see that thing?” Layla grimaced at the creature.

“I didn’t. They smell like hot ass and cheetos,” Jack laughed.

“You fucking smelled the lizard-rolypoly-lamprey-rattlesnake-tail monster?” Layla gaped at him.

“Yeah, they have a weird acrid smell,” he laughed again. “I’ve got that ability that increases my sense of smell, remember.”

He paused for a moment, then wiggled the chimera at the other three.“So, back to the clearing, ya reckon?” he grinned and wiggled the creature one more time.

The other three glanced at each other, then as one replied, “Yeah. Yep. Sounds good.”

-----

The night passed, eventfully. Layla, Rory, and Erin split up three-hour watches, and Jack remained on guard until dawn. They set multiple fires and camped in the middle, hoping the flame and smoke would discourage the creatures from approaching. They had no such luck. Once darkness fell and his mana regeneration ramped up, he picked out a few of the larger chimera’s corpses and raised them as zombies. The rotting monstrosities were set in patrols around the camp, and though they lost most of their abilities once they were raised, their toughness and capacity for attracting the attention of other beasts couldn’t be overstated. When dawn finally encroached on the night, the four were already awake.

“That was the worst fucking night we’ve had since we got here,” Erin groaned.

“Yechht. It was like I could feel Cronenberg rejects crawling on me the whole night,” Layla shuddered.

“Do we know where we are in relation to the shrine, Jack?” Rory grimaced as he kicked a chimera’s corpse out of the campsite.

“No real way to know how big the dungeon is, but based on how the Compass moved when we walked around the wood a-ways, and how long we’ve been walking, I’d assume we’ll find it today,” he shrugged.

“Quick vote. Once we get the seal, we leg it, yeah?” Rory offered.

“Agree,” Layla blurted.

“Same,” Erin grimaced.

“Majority rules,” Jack replied absently.

He stood near the edge of the wood, where his remaining zombified chimera limped out of the brush and stood, immobile as death. He walked over and patted the creature across its slick, chitinous head.

“You did good, bud. Rest now,” a flare of dark power shivered across the camp and the reanimated creature slumped to the ground. “How are we on levels? I’m nearing thirty in nightbringer and nearly as high in nightwraith.”

“Almost thirty in succubus and twenty-four in mage,” Layla chirped.

“Twenty-seven in vandal,” Rory replied.

“Same in dreadnought,” Erin joined in with a scowl. “Our progress seems slow for as gross as this is.”

“Nothing in the outer mantle is particularly strong compared to us. It’s just disgusting,” Rory offered.

“We should make some progress in the inner mantle, and if we find the guardian, I think we should take a whack at it,” Jack’s expression darkened.

-----

Around noon, they stopped to take stock and quickly wolf down some rations. Each of them was covered in gore and most of their equipment was showing signs of wear from the constant splashes of acid and corrosive venom possessed by nearly everything within the Writhing Wood. Deeper into the inner mantle, the creatures had grown significantly stronger, and even the flora had begun to show signs of corruption. The trees here pulsed and shivered with meaty obscenity and bled milky white blood when damaged. The underbrush pulled and slithered against them, and the disturbingly mobile nature of the plant life only increased the further they pushed into the mantle.

Late that afternoon, they broke into a wide clearing, hacking their way through the thick brush, each of them covered in white, viscous blood at this point.

“What the hell is that?” Erin stood just inside the clearing, staring forward.

The rest of them turned to follow her gaze, where a massive stepped temple stood, overgrown with thick rust-colored vines covered in blood-red spaded leaves. The entire structure seemed to slither with the disturbingly fleshy growth, and as they stared up at the edifice, Jack suddenly realized…

“Where the fuck are all the monsters?”