Quintin could peel his worth from her orange, crescent-shaped eyes. He saw the opinion slowly take form behind those mirror-pools, which seemed to say: 'low-lying wretch'. Her fully open posture suggested a playful tact, with no particular respect for anything—least of all him. However, the formidable arrogance she held herself with told a different story altogether.

Cramie was dangerous. A pitiless, sadistic existence, intent on squeezing him for everything he had—core, being, and all. She was the hunter, and he was a foregone conclusion. What's more, she was insidious. Opting to send her pet-toy out to greet him, before finally revealing herself.

The uncomfortable sarcasm of her voice broke his trance-like thoughts. "Dig deep and entertain me well, Rookie. After all, I did have to go through the trouble of finding you-"

Her face took a menacing turn, atwist with anger and spite, "The least you should do is take responsibility for that."

The hopelessness found there did not dissuade Quintin from trying to live on. The most salient reason for that was he had grown tired of her voice.

Weary of her ceaseless condescension. But most of all,

Pissed off by her smug, overbearing face.

Cramie was about to open her mouth once again when he took the initiative to cut her monologue short. With the aid of a pressurized burst, three wolf claws went whistling through the air. Two of them screeched ineffectually against her chest armor, while the other was snatched up by a reflexive flick of the hand.

[Breath of Sudden Calamity: 3x]

-30PP

PP: 85/500

...

1. {Hit} {Negated}

2. {Hit}

3. {Deflected}

...

-5 total [HP] damage.

...]

The response came with a blur of shadowy movement. Quintin's head went rocking back from the impact of her rune-covered gauntlet. It was a collision so forceful it sent him airborne, and just as abruptly, to a full stop tens of feet away. The mound of shifting rubble gave way all around as he stood unsteadily from his half-burial.

His total [HP] had fallen by nearly a third from the punch. Luckily, she didn't seem to be in any hurry, though Quintin wasn't about to test the Goatwoman on that either. An activation of [Lotus Step] brought him to her front, where a spray of [Cobblerite] powder left his outstretched hand in aerosol form. It was a dirty cloud of chalk-smoke that made Cramie rub at her eyes and squeeze them shut for a moment. The blindness wouldn't last, but he didn't need it to as his grip tightened around her forearm.

The [Compression Grip] met with resistance, so he spun around behind her. Piggy-backing on top of her, he placed the crook of his arm around her neck while pulling up with the other to choke her out. Cramie reached behind to grab the nape of his neck with her free hand and drilled him onto the stone floor head first.

[Incoming: Hand Piledriver

...

-300[HP] damage.

...

HP: 63/537

...

Status:

{Concussed}

{Dazed}

...]

Even though the room was spinning, he still swept his legs out and used [Material Integration] to attach a long pole to the sole of his foot using the [Reinforced Wood]. The action connected with her less armored leg, but a glyph lit up under her coarse fur that negated the attempt to trip her.

Quintin stood there woozily. He tried to grab her again, but it was no use. His hand was gripped in her own before she pressed him back down to waist level. Cramie kept him there as she spoke.

"Can't say I was expecting much different, but did you have to be so disappointing? Well, guess you are just a baby bird. Still, I wouldn't mind taking you under my wing, but business-"

She let out a dramatic huff, "You won't hold that against me, will you?"

Even though she mentioned her disappointment, there was an eerie smile. Stranger still was the glimmer in her eyes that betrayed the spoken words.

"Tobio might let me keep you if you tell me everything like a good boy." She frowned over to the half-dead [Goblin] by the wall in disapproval.

Quintin was a mess. His head ached from the repeated blows to the head that left him with a mind of broken half-thoughts. However, he clung to one thing with all of his remaining energy. He could forget about the pain and dazing influence so long as he held the hidden object in his palm.

"Tell me everything. What happened during the incident with that piss-for-brains, Nyathamon? Tell me what I want to know." Cramie savored the pained, downcast look on Quintin's face. Different glyphs came to life up and down her arms.

Quintin gnashed his teeth as he looked upon her self-satisfied position from the ground.

With one last defiant glare, he blurted out, "Nyathamon is alive!"

Quest:

[Nyathamon's Quest]

—○Failstate: updated.

Cramie was stunned as she processed what he just said. In that split second of inattention, Quintin shot one last projectile into her abdomen at point-blank range.

The penetrative [Syringe] slid effortlessly through her magical armor and enchantments. Quintin quickly smashed the plunger in with a palm strike. She threw Quintin aside roughly while shrieking madly. Her head was upraised in agony as her knees banged against the ground, tearing and punching at her abdomen with her gauntleted hands.

"What did you do to me!?" Cramie screamed.

Within moments, her face began to crumple inward and the wailing sobs ceased as her eyes closed forever. Fur and skin and muscle fell from her body as something pulled her aloft. Every part of her started to drip into a pool that formed underneath until only blackened bones remained in the air.

During the chaos, a powerful roar resounded throughout Sozzelrift. Quintin lifted his groggy head to look up through the hole in the Amphitheater's dome. He squinted up into the sea of [Starmoss]. The pulsing waves of light took on the form of a rising blue dragon in shape. A smile escaped him as his eye closed to take in the bright image. At some point, a shadow loomed over him, which blocked it out and caused him to frown. His eyelid slowly parted in order to see what had caused it.

The bones of Cramie took on an elongating curvature. They twisted in distortion as they became a gigantic symbol that hung in the Amphitheater.

Quest:

[Nyathamon's Quest]

—○Failstate: canceled.

From where he stood, the nausea-inducing shape up above appeared as a child-like outline of a flower. A caricature born of death, corruption, and Cramie's transmogrified bones. The thing spun around, slowly at first, but began to quicken with each humorless rotation. It spit out a syrupy liquid that began to pool on the ground in small collectives. Nearby pools connected and grew larger, while also spewing their filth around.

Quintin's head still rang from the concussive power of multiple blows to the head. His eyesight was full of stars and thick black droplets. His shaky fingers felt around on his forehead and came away with blood and the ruinous liquid staining them. The corruption fell like molasses and spread across the various surface areas like a stream of concrete. His last coherent action, as he watched the [Ruins] darken, was with a futile struggle to think.

My thoughts are turning to mush-

I can barely move... I need to-

Identify...

[Gargantuan Bone Glyph of Corruption]

—Filth-Spitter

—Generator

—Calamity

Cramie the thoughtless, corruption-belching calamity.

*Generator of Corruption.

*Calamatous existence.

The surrounding area began to fade away. The warm blue glow from the [Starmoss] was overtaken by the jet-black droplets of darkness. Quintin fell to his back as sleep overtook him.

+***+