Nightmare bats were not named for any sort of soulprint they had. They didn’t invade climbers’ dreams and twist them into horrific visages, and while there were monsters on higher floors that could break a mind simply by being seen, that was just an aspect of their powers at work. The tower had designed those creatures to be a cognitive threat.
The bats, on the other hand, were just really, really ugly. Adult nightmare bats got up to three feet tall with a wing span almost triple that, and their fur was short, bristly, and oily. It was a mottled, unattractive gray that made them look like they’d been dipped in a drum of mixed oil and melted candle wax, at least where the various tumors and growths hadn’t shed the fur entirely.
Their faces were somehow even worse. Every one of them was a unique work of tortured art. With malformed skulls, crooked jaws, and enormous, drooping noses, they inspired revulsion in anything that beheld them. It was enough to give children nightmares and make climbers feel bad for the poor creatures.
Or it would be if they weren’t so damn bloodthirsty. If there was ever a monster that deserved its appearance, Sorin firmly believed it was the nightmare bat. The vicious little bastards were damn near invisible in the dark, and their favored method of starting a fight was to swoop down on their prey, latch themselves onto the back of the skull, and clamp down on their victim’s head by distending their jaws.
They accomplished that all in the matter of less than a second, too, leaving the poor climber blinded, confused, and in pain. The bats weren’t terrifically heavy or anything, but an extra forty pounds of monster suddenly mounted on the average climber’s shoulders and head was generally enough to throw them off balance.
Blind Sense was more than proving it was worth its spot in Sorin’s soulspace. He’d only been in the trees near the nesting caves for half an hour, and twice already he’d put an ice blade through a bat’s face as it swooped down on him from behind. Unfortunately, both were juveniles, not even half the size of the adults he was looking for.
At least they were worth a bit of anima, he thought to himself after the second attack. Maybe have a soulprint for me or something if you’re just going to waste my time, though.
Sorin found a small field nestled inside a ring of rather large trees, which was probably about as good a location as he could hope for. He chose that spot specifically to avoid giving the bats any sort of canopy over his head to lurk in. If they wanted to come at him, they’d do it through open air where he could take free shots at them.
The next step was luring them in. Just standing in the field would probably be enough to do it, but there were no guarantees, so he started collecting firewood to increase his odds. It only took a minute to dig himself a wide, shallow fire pit, then another ten minutes to pile up dead wood and get some tinder smoking. Once he had the fire lit, he stood back, right where the light turned to shadow, and waited with his sword held in his hand.
The tricky part about hunting nightmare bats for their hides was killing them without actually damaging the leather. Sorin prioritized attacking their heads—ironically the same priority they had for him—since he was mostly looking to keep the hide from their main bodies. The membranes that made up their wings were too thin to be of use for his armor project, which meant he needed two or three big, full-sized bats that he was able to take down with a single precise attack.
He didn’t get that, not at first. The strategy was simple. He waited, motionless, for one of them to get within Blind Sense’s range. Almost always, they came at him from behind, and at the last possible moment, they’d eat an ice blade to the face while he dodged to the side. Sometimes that was enough to kill the nightmare bat; usually, it wasn’t. In those cases, Sorin followed up with a heavy chop to the back of the skull, which never failed to stun the creature at minimum. The fight would end less than five seconds after it began, he would inspect the monster to see if it met his criteria, and then he’d reset his stance.
It wasn’t that Sorin expected to get lucky in the first few minutes, but by the time three hours had passed, he’d built up a pile of close to twenty bodies, and not a one of them was big enough. He was starting to wonder if they were all runts down on Floor 2 or if he’d just gotten unlucky and stumbled into the territory of an exceptionally young colony.
But even then, there should still be some full-grown bats mixed in.
If it came down to it, he could use multiple smaller bats, but even with overlapping leather plates, patchwork armor wasn’t ideal. It would need to be thicker to compensate, which would reduce his flexibility while increasing weight. A few extra pounds didn’t sound like a lot on its own, but twelve hours of marching while wearing it would show exactly how heavy that was.
His musings were interrupted by another nightmare bat, but when he moved to kill it, a second one appeared heading right for where he’d just dodged. Sorin had no choice but to drop straight to the ground and slash his blade overhead. Fortunately, he didn’t need to see the bat with his eyes to retain his accuracy.
The first bat took the planned ice blade right on its ugly, disfigured nose, but without the follow up, it just climbed back into the air. The second bat wasn’t as lucky. Sorin’s new sword proved it was well-made when it pierced the bat’s chest. His old weapon might have gotten caught on the monster’s rib cage at that point, probably resulting in Sorin either being forced to release the blade or getting dragged along by the bat until the sword slipped free.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
The new sword didn’t do that. It simply sheered through hide, muscle, and bone alike, downing the bat with a grievous injury. It flopped around pitifully on the ground, not dead, but too injured to get back into the air. It would have made for an easy target to finish off, but the first bat was already coming around for a second pass.
Sorin was back on his feet and just about to blast the bat with a disorienting wave of ice blades when something else entered the range of his blind sense. It was moving fast, low to the ground, and on four legs. That’s not a bat!
Throwing himself backward, Sorin shot out a spray of ice in the intruder’s general direction. It reacted quickly, leaping into the air and twisting mid jump to reorient itself at Sorin. At the same time, the bat finished its dive, meeting sword with clawed feet as it tried to latch onto him. The force of his swing batted it aside, but bats were nothing if not nimble, and it quickly righted itself.
Oh well, this wasn’t going to be the one I skinned anyway. No point in handicapping myself.
Sorin shot four ice blades into the monster’s back, tearing at the muscles that helped it pump its wings. The damage was minimal, not enough to ground it, but it definitely slowed the bat down. It still got up into the air, if only because Sorin was distracted dealing with the other monster.
Now that it was crossing the light thrown out by the fire, he could see it was bulky and scaled. Colors were a bit washed out, so he didn’t get much more than an impression of gray, but it was definitely some sort of massive lizard.
Sorin readied himself for its charge, but instead of coming in, the lizard scurried around his position. It kept a wary eye on him, but when Sorin didn’t make a move, it clamped down on one of the bat corpses from the pile, then dragged it off into the night.
Huh. Not a monster, I guess. Just a hungry animal smelling fresh blood and looking to scavenge a meal. Speaking of meals...
If he just stood there, that bat would be quick to turn him into one. For the moment, both the bat monster and the—probably—regular old giant lizard were outside the range of Blind Sense, which left Sorin with nothing to do but reluctantly set himself back into position and wait for one of them to make a move.
The biggest risk to what he was doing was getting swarmed by multiple monsters, but Sorin had his avenues of retreat already scouted out. While he’d prefer the bat to come back in immediately, if it decided to wait for a partner or three to show up, he was confident he’d survive it. Four bats were doable. Five might be pushing it. Anything more than that, and he’d have to fight a moving battle while he whittled down their numbers.
Two bats appeared in his senses at the same time, coming from opposite angles. If nothing else, that confirms they’re just as smart as the ones back home, Sorin thought to himself as he reacted. The only worrying part was that neither bat was the one he’d already injured. It was possible it had just run off and these new bats were an unrelated coincidence, but he thought it was more likely he could expect an ambusher to try to drop down on him in the next few seconds.
One bat failed to adjust its course and got decapitated as it flew by. The head spun away into the darkness, leaving the body to crash into the dirt a few feet away, but by the time it stopped moving, Sorin was already ducking under the other bat’s dive. He summoned up two ice blades to hit it with, only to stumble when a stunning wave of energy rolled over him.
It was a weak attack, but one that was performed outside his perception range. More importantly, that stumble opened up a second-long window that the other bat used to demonstrate exactly how well it could change direction mid-flight. The bat swooped back around, easily dodging the now uncontrolled ice blades, and collided with Sorin’s torso.
Getting his sword up in time was more instinct than a conscious decision. The blade bit deep into the bat as it slammed into him, its edge held in line only by his free hand coming up to brace against the back. It was, unfortunately, sharp on both sides, which left a nasty gash across his palm.
That was a price well worth paying to avoid having that bat wrap its gaping jaws around his face, and he was once again very happy to have Iron Body reinforcing his skin. Without that soulprint, the back side of the sword would have hit bone at minimum, possibly even cut his hand off.
But since he did have it, all it did was leave a bloody gash that Minor Regeneration would work diligently to close up. It wasn’t debilitating, and he ignored it in favor of throwing the bat off him before its teeth could get to work. A set of ice blades blinded it, for all that mattered to the nocturnal predators, but the pain was distracting enough that he ran the bat through before it could get away.
Another wave of disorientation washed over him, but this time there were no nearby monsters to take advantage of it. He pushed through it and sprinted toward the source, guided more by the feel of the anima as it had spread through him than anything else. He certainly couldn’t see the bat with his eyes, not yet at least.
More worrisome was that he was leaving the dubious safety of the fire light, but he couldn’t leave a bat capable of utilizing a soulprint out in the night to harry him while he fought off its friends. He didn’t even get close enough to get a good look at the monster before a loud, wet crunch rang out.
Sorin skidded to a stop, his sword up in front of him. A man appeared at the edge of Blind Sense’s radius, a mace dripping blood held in one hand, and the corpse of a massive nightmare bat being dragged by a wing in the other. Its head was a mess of shattered bone and brain matter.
“Interesting operation you’ve got going on,” the man said. “Mind if I join you for a minute?”
“By all means,” Sorin said, stepping backward into the firelight. “It’s not like I own the forest.”
The man chuckled. “No, of course not. Still, it never hurts to be polite.”
He let go of the bat as he walked. By the time he reached the light, Sorin had already figured out why the man seemed so familiar, but seeing him only confirmed it. It was the man Nemari had spotted back at the portal hub, the one who’d rattled her so badly.
The man smiled at Sorin, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “So, let’s have a quick chat, shall we?”

