《Rodentia Journeys》Chapter 20
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Frederich wasn't simply talking big. Well, he was talking big, but there was a little more to it than that. The power of experience is not one to be taken lightly. Not experience points and level, although those are valuable as well, but actual, practical experiences. The experience point system prioritizes and rewards new experiences and rising to face greater challenges, and while there's no question that there is much to be gained from accomplishing such tasks, there are certain things which can only truly be gained through time and repetition. Your muscles might grow and your body harden as you gain an experience level, but you won't have the instincts, the muscle memory and sheer tactical knowledge which comes from surviving countless battles.
Even Frederich is far from a storied veteran, but he has been fighting for quite a while which is quite fortunate for him. It's the only thing that keeps him from dying almost instantly. He had always wanted to fight a dark lord, and convinced himself that he could properly stand up to one. After all, if Jerin who was half his size could, why couldn't he, who has better gear and trained significantly harder? Fortunately, he's not a complete idiot. He may he a little hard-headed, but even he isn't quite so foolish enough to look down on an opponent who was crushed by a swarm of meteors and came out of it with nary a scratch. It's clear that the creature is unusually powerful, and he came into the fight focusing on defense, making every effort to evade the powerful paw-swipes. Had the twisted creature been of as sound mind as it was of strong body, that likely wouldn't be enough. Instead, however, the attacks were wild rather than calculated, even if that made them no less deadly.
Really, being on the defensive isn't much of a decision. He has little choice against such a large target with a long reach, but each time he does manage to evade a sweep of the claws, he swiftly slashes against the bit of exposed limb, dismayed to find it inflicting no visible damage whatsoever. Current mice have a somewhat skewed perspective of dark lords. They always have, but these days it's skewed in a much different, largely opposing way. Whereas before they were seen as invincible, due to a series of high profile victories against them, Jerin simply being the first to do so, many started to underestimate them. This warped perspective complicates things a great deal, as perspective has a way of shaping reality, especially when it comes to mice, but the main reason they started to believe this was because although the dark lords aren't weak, they do tend to be cowardly.
That's not an insult, it's reality. Most predators are cowards. Really, most sensible creatures are cowards. A prey creature might fight to the bitter end, but it's not due to an innate sense of heroism, it's due to being cornered and having no other options. A predator will rarely find itself in such a position, and, for obvious reasons, will avoid it whenever possible. Suppose you are a particularly brave individual, prepared to fight a powerful opponent to the death. Whether it's out of necessity or otherwise, the reality is the same. Maybe you have a lot of faith in your own abilities, and are convinced that you can win not only without dying, but without even taking serious injury? Well, clearly your opponent feels the same way, and at least one of you is wrong. Predators are not like adventurers, after all. They can't come back from an battle covered in blood and what looks like obviously lethal wounds, wrap themselves in some bandages, rest at the inn for the night and make a swift and complete recovery. No, even if a single long-term injury isn't a direct death sentence, it will permanently make their lives more difficult and reduce their hunting effciency. That's why cowardice is generally a virtue, as while bravery can be noble, it's also incredibly dangerous, and while sometimes it is even for the best, I think few would disagree that, ideally, situations that require bravery at all are best avoided.
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Dark lords are clever creatures, and similarly rarely find themselves significantly threatened. Similarly, most hunt and fight for little more than sport, making their conflicts usually very low stakes and therefore especially foolish to risk wounding ones self over. Battles with mice usually fall into this category. While it might sting the pride a little to need to flee from such tiny creatures, it's better than risking carrying an injury for the rest of your life. Plus, they can always justify it in many ways, many of which are quite valid. They're just playing around, and the game has suddenly become a lot less fun. This takes us back to the mice, once again. There have been many victories where dark lords have been driven off, but most don't realize how quickly the beasts gave up. They're still sturdy and very powerful creatures, and should one be cornered or lack the basic self preservation instincts, even an ordinary cat is a truly deadly opponent.
This is something Frederich finds out the hard way, as he catches his sword between two of the claws going for his face, taking all of his strength to hold back the heavy paw. He can't maintain this for long, of course, rolling aside and in the process slicing the digit where the flesh was soft, between the toes. He felt the sense of cutting into flesh somewhat, but no hint of blood and not even the faintest sign of pain from the vacant eyes of the dark lord which, continuing it's swipe, nearly took off his head, instead barely nicking a round ear and sending his helmet tumbling. That wasn't his only close call, either. Mouse armor might largely be for show, offering little protection against massive claws or fangs, but sometimes a little is all one needs. Dark lords are quick as well as strong, and sometimes even a perfectly timed evasion isn't enough, and before long, even if his body is still holding up, his armor and cape are in tatters, shield nearly split down the middle and his blade chipped and rough.
The armored mouse, although significantly less armored now than he was moments before, felt no pain or fear, just a growing sense of disgust. It was finally time to show what he was capable of... and this is it? His strongest blows essentially bounce off of the hide of the beast, and he's failed to even force it backwards a single step. He has to defeat it, but feels no sense of progress at all. Running from this creature isn't an option, Kay is clearly in no condition for that, and Mia? Well, even at best, she's not exactly a sprinter, but it's clear that the excess of magic usage took a great toll on her. As for his opponent, there's clearly something seriously wrong with it. He doesn't know what, and sadly, whatever ailment it's suffering from has done nothing to diminish its power or ferocity. It's obvious that the dark lord has no intention of running. That means it's all up to him. If he fails, really, when he fails, all three of them wikk die, and it will be entirely his fault. He chuckles to himself, falling backwards, barely avoiding another claw swipe, and raising his broken shield to catch the follow up. This succeeds, for a moment, but the dark lord can press down with significantly more force than a mouse can hope to push back with. The extended claws curl around it, the wood cracking and splintering under their force. He tries to rise up from his one knee, but the paw is just too heavy, too strong. One final strong stab at the exposed paw-pad with his sword, and the blade sinks deep into the soft flesh, drawing blood. If the predator feels pain from the injury, however, it certainly doesn't show it, the empty, soul-less eyes lock on the vulnerable prey, jaw slack, hanging half-way open.
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"Fresh... meat..." it growls.
He stabbed it quite effectively. Too effectively, as he finds himself unable to withdraw his sword, especially not while putting all his strength into holding back the paw pressing down onto his shield. He wanted to become someone others could depend on, but nothing has changed. As he watches the jaw stretch open and sees those hideous, fangs loom close, he muses on the fact that he's still the same kid playing hero that he always was.
Kay wasn't in much of a different situation. Her body is flooded with intense pain, barely able to see, but still unable to look away from the battle ahead. Mia is using her meager mana reserves to help heal her, but even when the sorceress were at her strongest, the effects of such spells are minimal. The naked mouse, however, didn't feel shame or disgust with herself. She didn't feel guilt over leading these two brave mice to their deaths. She simply felt anger. Why now? She never asked for his curse thing, and didn't even really complain. Even when she heard that it was going to kill her, beyond the initial shock, she took it in stride. It's taken her eyes from her, her name from her, and was soon to take her life. The dark lord, the one who first cursed her, insisted it would offer blessings as well, but where were they? A stronger body? So what, the only reason she needed it was because the curse mark sent her on this ridiculous journey to begin with. She and her friends were still the ones that needed to do all the work, and now? Now, when she needs that strength more than ever, it's holding her back.
I'm doing everything you wanted, she growls to herself, to the curse itself even as she's certain that it doesn't have ears. You're going to make me look like some monster? Fine! You're going to take my name away? Sure thing! You're going to kill me? Go ahead, but not now. You're supposed to be a source of power, aren't you? You're supposed to make me strong and able to fight in order to accomplish this mission, right? Well, this mission clearly isn't over, and there's no way you're killing me, after coming all this way. You're supposed to make me strong, huh? Then do it, give me power, and if you can't do that, do the next best thing and stop holding me back!
She closes her eyes, trying to drive away the pain that floods through her entire body. Tries to focus, and rise back to her feet with sheer force of will. She grits her teeth, hardly noticing that the sounds of battle grow more distant and echoed. All she notices is that the black inside of her eyelids have turned to bright red, not even realizing the reality: that her eyes are, in fact, wide open.
Frederich is knocked backwards, to his surprise. He could feel his strength giving out, but expected to be forced downwards, crushed under the paw or impaled on the claws. Instead, he felt the force, but no continuing pressure on his body, his head ringing from the impact. He regains his senses, looking up to see the dark lord leaning against the nearby plaster wall. Well, against isn't entirely accurate, it's head is set in a nearby indentation, neck and body hanging limply from it. Between himself and the body of the creature stands a familiar mouse woman, although at the moment, not-quite-so-familiar. Kay stands with her back towards him, axe gripped in both hands, which are scarred red and black, a pattern which continues into the fur of her arms. They don't appear to be injured, simply discolored, twisted, squeezing the grip of the weapon with an unnatural intensity.
"Kay?" He asks, awkwardly returning to his feet before asking the question he's asked so many times recently. It was always an odd question, in that he dreaded the likely answer, never moreso than this time. "Are you... are you alright?"
She turns to him with a smile which offers no comfort. He hardly notices the curse mark, even as it's spread through her entire face and down both arms, discoloring both fur and flesh beneath them. It's not a trivial detail, of course, but instead his attention is focused on her eyes, perfectly round, unnaturally large and blood red. The fur around them has never looked thinner, stretched, dried and cracked in more than a few places, leaking small trickles of blood down her cheek and snout, dripping onto the pale fur of her chest.
"Never better." she says in a calm voice that isn't quite her own, the tone reverberating through her throat as she speaks, still wearing that bizarre, twisted grin.
From behind, Mia similarly looks on with a shocked expression. It seemed to happen in the blink of an eye. One moment, Kay was on her knees, barely able to move, with the young sorceress offering what minimal aid that she could. The next, the older woman was on her feet, instantly cleared the distance to the dark lord, leapt into the air and with a single swing caught the dark lord in the cheek with her axe. It didn't deeply cut the flesh, but the sheer force of the strike threw the beast into, practically through the nearby wall which was already blackened and cracked from her earlier spell. Like Frederich, she felt little sense of relief, however. Especially when the massive, four-legged body began to twitch and it pulled it's head from the hole, shaking the plaster from it's whiskers.
"F-f-fresh... me-at..." it gurgles, eyes locked on it's new prey. For the first time since the encounter began, it's taken aback however. Even with its broken mind functioning primarily on instinct, it feels a sense of danger as the bloodstained mouse looks back to it. Eyes even more predatory than its own. This flash of warning is a brief one, however, as it's insatiable hunger takes over and it lunges towards the new foe. The dark lord finds itself airborne longer than expected. Seeing the blade had little effect, Kay turns the weapon in her hands, and before the creature can even land, it's caught under the chin with an upward strike, throwing it backwards, tumbling across the glossy floor.
It awkwardly regains its bearings, trying to stand back up, but it's a futile effort. It barely has time to raise its chin when the blunted hammer end of 'Catherine' comes down in a sweeping arch down between the eyes, slamming the feline head into the floor. It tries to rise up once more, only to be struck again and again, the repeated blows shattering the floor in an ever growing crater around the beast. Its efforts grow more and more feeble, each time stopped by another devastating blow which rings throughout the entire structure, until eventually it lacks the strength even for that, lying in place, unmoving. Still, the blows continue.
Both Mia and Frederich stand, staring numbly as Kay continues to mechanically hammer down on the unmoving body, neither knowing what to say or having any sensation of relief over the fact that the past crisis which seemed insurmountable has now passed.
"Kay? Um, I think you can stop now..." Mia says in a nervous voice. She's still a little shaky on her feet, but her coloring has already begun to return. If the naked mouse hears the words, however, she shows no signs of it. She simply continues hammering, each blow raining down with a sickening, fleshy thud. Both can see her large, red eyes locked on her prey, the twisted smile still on her discolored mouth and snout.
"Hey, snap out of it!" Frederich says, rushing towards her, placing a hand on her shoulder. Finally, she acknowledges their presence, although not quite in the way he had hoped. Her eyes don't turn from the dark lord, but a single hand, the flesh dried and gnarled reaches out, lightning quick, and seizes him by the throat, effortlessly lifting him from the floor. Further conversation from his end is impossible at this point, all his energies focused on trying to pry himself free of the vice-like grip. Her head very slowly turns towards him, the gleaming red eyes lock onto his own, that predatory glint visible within them. But only for a moment.
Another set of paws grasp her arm. A pair far too weak to even consider relying on brute strength to resolve even the simplest of matters. As such, it doesn't try to pry the fingers loose, or pull the arm away. It simply engulfs the furred arm (the fur considerably thinner than it was earlier), in a soothing, green glow. Those eyes which were hungry for mayhem just moments before blink, and in an instant return to... well, not quite normal, of course, but at least holding something beyond a bestial instinct. She lets him go, a little more abruptly than she intended, and he falls onto his rear, coughing.
"Frederich? I... I'm sorry, I don't know what..." Kay anxiously sputters.
"Heh, it's okay, I'm fine..." he says, forcing a smile. He doesn't need to force it too hard, but there's still a little too much left up in the air for it to come naturally. "Are you?"
"I... I think so." She says in a soft voice, looking down at her now unfamiliar hands.
"Was it the curse mark? Did it... take control of you?" Mia asks, nervously.
"Yes... well, no." Kay sighs, still looking to her paws. "Sort of. I... for the first time, I just really wanted to be stronger. Maybe I stopped fighting it, and it kind of took over. Then, well, I felt good. Really good, better than I have in a long time. I wanted more, I just wanted to forget about everything, to fight, and, well... I guess I did. I wasn't possessed or anything like that, I just kind of lost myself. I wanted to lose myself. To no longer have to worry about anything."
"I... see." Mia says, avoiding meeting her gaze. "Do you... still want to lose yourself?"
The naked mouse shakes her head. While her face, chest and stomach are thoroughly stained with blood, most of which is her own, the color of her eyes has gradually settled to its usual only moderately monstrous appearance. "No. I'm sorry about that, I didn't want that to happen, and I especially didn't want to hurt you." she turns to Frederich.
The armored mouse just chuckles. "Heh, don't worry about it. Sure, I'm a little ticked off that you stole my victory from me, but there's always next time. As for the choking thing, I'm sure I did something to deserve it." he pauses. "You sure you're alright? Even aside from that mark of yours being way bigger, getting that last key really did a number on you. Plus, your face and arms are all cut up."
"Are they?" Kay asks, looking down at herself. None of the wounds are even close to severe or bleeding profusely, but they make up for their lack of urgency with quantity. The skin beneath the fur is rough and dried, pulled taut and, despite the natural strength coursing throughout the rest of her body, strangely delicate. The darkened flesh encompasses not only her face and head, but arms and shoulders as well, but the fur of her chest and stomach remain the original off-white color and texture. At least it would be were it not stained with a rather copious amount of blood. She crinkles her snout, and looks away from her chest in disgust. "I didn't even notice. My head still hurts, but the cuts don't. I can't feel them at all." she sighs, "I can't really feel anything else."
"Hey, I'll bet a lot of it comes from the dark lord over there! You really did a number on it!" Fred smiles.
Kay jolts upright, turning towards it. "It's not..." she grumbles. "We've got to get out of here. Now!"
"What are you talking about?"
"Fresh meat..." a bestial voice gurgles ahead of them, the broken body twitching, bones cracking, re-knitting themselves together, as the dark lord slowly lumbers to its feet.
"Just run!" Kay calls. The other two don't stick around to argue.
Mia, in particular, isn't exactly at her strongest, but even she can work up enough of a second wind to keep up with the others as they pass by the assorted crates and cages filled with angry growling eyes, some hissing, some barking, all very much excited by the earlier conflict. The three only stop for the briefest of moments, freezing when they hear a terrifying high-pitched feline cry coming from behind him, whereas before they had never heard so much as a sound from the creature beyond its repeating mantra, even as it was being pummeled nearly to death. It isn't long before they reach the exit, the small crack in the wall which nothing larger than a mouse could even hope to escape through, and all three collapse, panting against the stone building.
"I don't get it... why didn't it follow us? We shouldn't have been able to get away so easily..." Kay pants.
"You really did a number on it. Maybe it needed a little longer to recover?" Fred replies.
"I suppose it hardly matters. The important thing is that we escaped." Mia smiles, before taking on a curious expression. "So... what now?"
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Bastill is kidnapped and sacrificed. Turned into a dungeon by his captor, furthermore they plan to return in five years to collect the matured dungeon core. While his stats are reverted back to the first level, will he be able to overcome his enemy? With experiences from his human life, watch as Bastille builds his dungeon into a fortress, amass an army, and level up. Will he protect his core when the time comes? ______________________________________________________________________________________________________ Please send me art! I will use it and treasure it! ART... I really would like your art... PLease? _______________________________________________________________________________________________________ Started on {5/15/2018} Feel free to crtitique the writing. Its in a rough Draft right now. If I get decent enough feedback I may continue on writing it.
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