117. Happy Place

  Rules, insomuch as they existed at all, were made to be broken. And today, Team Serac rewrote the rulebook at a furious pace hitherto unmatched in the Realmhunt’s centuries-long history.

  What had begun as a fairly traditional setup had ballooned to three hunters aided by two spotters-turned-cheerleaders. As it turned out, in a game contested as much underwater as on land, it was quite useful to have a strong swimmer on your side. And Renate the tree-frog was as proficient as they came.

  A dense procession of Mennesketers quickly ramped up to the arrival of Jotuneters. Renate took it upon herself to harry the tentacled monsters onto solid ice, for the smiting pleasure of her landbound teammates. [Elemental Surge] to generate powerful ‘geysers’ at the chokepoint, pushing the Jotuneters through the surface and high into the air. Serac and Zacko would take it from there.

  With the benefit of a level playing field, the outrealmers made a dramatic turnaround on their middling performance from earlier. The pugilist kept the Jotuneter busy at melee range, while the gunslinger chipped away from a safe distance, all while maximizing the value of each individual bullet.

  Serac’s thinking was thus. Given this particular loop’s bountiful haul, she’d surely be fighting a lot of Aberrants, hopefully with the ‘big one’ still waiting in the wings. All this, and no time for a reconstitution break, which meant she had to be extra-choosy with her resources. Cartridge she couldn’t afford to exhaust completely; no matter what or how she fought, she needed her ammunition. Health was another precious resource for obvious reasons, but also as a secondary source of damage buffs.

  Which then left Mana and Satiety. The former she could heal with Renate’s [Pearl of Wisdom]. The latter she simply had plenty to spend, having started the day on a full stomach. The choice was obvious, and it dictated how she engaged with the wave after wave of Wildspawns throwing themselves in front of her six-shooter.

  [Appetizer] to maintain a 34-point buff per Cartridge. [Embalmer] to sic pesky Mennesketers on their tentacled big brothers. PULVERIZER’s [Grind] whenever Serac got within melee range herself. She even let Ash in on the action; the [Javelins] were handy for [Bleed]-ing a beefy kraken without having to drain her own HP.

  Economy and efficiency were the name of the game, at least until its eventual final act. These were some of Serac’s most hectic and skill-intensive smites in recent memory, but they were also by far the funnest. Sure, the stakes and the score-keeping might have something to do with that, but Serac knew there was a much simpler, purer reason for her enjoyment.

  Teamwork. Camaraderie. Connection. A Yaksha made her waves. A Manusya swung his fists. A living castle shed its blood. And through it all, a Rakshasa fired her smiting shots. It just felt right. Round pegs fitting snugly into round holes.

  At some point in all the hectic fighting, shooting, and smiting, it occurred to Serac that this was where she belonged. Her happy place. A trio plus their loyal Steed, working in perfect balance and harmony. Covering each other’s weaknesses while elevating each other’s strengths.

  Sure, the Karmic rewards might be further diluted by the addition of a third Wayfarer, and someone would be especially upset about that. But for the amount of fun she was having, Serac deemed the ‘pay cut’ well worth it. What was more, she soon realized she wasn’t alone in her opinion.

  It happened somewhere between the third Jotuneter Renate dug up and maybe the thirtieth Mennesketer Zacko kicked into oblivion. The partial Circlet around Serac’s right temple activated again, but this latest ‘flare-up’ felt nothing like the usual headache.

  A pulsing warmth, almost pleasurable in its playful touch. Whoever this third entity was, they were clearly a big believer in fighting as a team. Or was it this team in particular? Either way, this extra bit of encouragement only heightened Serac’s oneness with the moment.

  Which was why, when the loop eventually did ‘end’, Serac’s first reaction was annoyance. The Wildspawn waves died off, and a wintry serenity returned to the landscape. Serac’s mood was anything but serene, however, as she glared at the now ripple-less chokepoint like it owed her acorns. She’d been having so much fun, and she just wanted more. More fights, more smites, more feeding off the energy and competence of her teammates.

  But then she remembered herself and her whole reason for being here in the first place. Annoyance quickly soured into despair. Had this loop been a dud? Even after all the smiting—and after committing their whole supply of [Frostkrillbane]—did Team Serac have another dead spot on their hands?

  Splash!

  The chokepoint did spit something out—Renate’s hooded, pink figure. The frog woman clearly deemed her ‘dredging’ duties over and done with. Another nail in the coffin for Serac’s dying hopes. But wait:

  “Your stone house,” Renate spoke with no preamble and without a single hitch, despite being drenched head to toe in freezing water. “I assume it’s your Steed, yes? It’s this thing that left ‘bite marks’ all over the ice?”

  Serac didn’t know about any bite marks, but the description tracked with the teeth-like mechanisms that churned at Ash’s base. She nodded, then felt the need to add, “It’s a castle, by the way.”

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  “Really? You call that thing a castle?” Renate said, amphibian eyes narrowing into a frown. Her skepticism was a little hurtful but also understandable, given the unorthodox ‘renovation’ Ash had undergone one Realm below. “Never mind. Get Inge, Munkfred, and the mackerel man into this ‘castle’, then get them as far away from here as possible. It’s coming.”

  It took Serac a hot second to twig exactly what was ‘coming’. Once she did, her face lit up.

  “The Frostkrill? You mean we did it? You’re sure about this?”

  Renate nodded without looking in Serac’s direction. Instead, her eyes were busy scanning in all directions.

  “I’m absolutely certain. There’s no mistaking the Frostkrill’s ripple signature after you’ve read it once.” She pointed a padded finger at a lotus flower in the distance. “Is that your Waystation there?”

  “You bet! But wait, did you just say you’ve ‘read it once’? Does that mean you—?”

  “I’m going to use it, just to tether myself,” Renate announced, already breaking into a run as she did. She then looked over her shoulder to add, “I can trust you to take care of the rest, yes?”

  “What? Um, sure, I guess, but… should Zacko and I be meditating too?” Serac asked and glanced at her own Pathsighted status, noting a Liminal Karma of [27,811 ?] paired with a Realmhunt score of [500]. “I think I’ve got enough to level, and I could certainly do with some—”

  “No!” Renate gave a sharp reply. She even stopped in her tracks for emphasis. “The Frostkrill will arrive any moment now, and at least two hunters must be present to receive it. That’s why ‘we’ even have these stupid rules in the first place. And I wouldn’t worry about reconstituting; you’ll be doing that soon enough anyway.”

  Wow, thanks for that vote of confidence! Serac had wanted to say, but the frog woman spun around again before she could get the words out. After that, the Rakshasa had to see to the task assigned by her senior Wayfarer. And despite her assurances, said task proved trickier than she’d anticipated.

  “I refuse to h—h—hide inside a toasty cabin while you and Mister Zacko take on the Frostkrill.” Petter’s excuse for sticking to the castle ramparts, where he’d already spent the whole loop feeding [Javelins] to Serac. “I’m T—T—Team Serac’s spotter, aren’t I? I’ve got to see this through to the end!”

  “And if you think I’d miss a chance to cheer on my Renna… then you don’t know me at all, dear, and I look forward to us getting to know each other better.”

  And Munkfred was Munkfred. It followed Inge’s lead, come hell or frozen water.

  Serac was torn. She wanted her Anchored friends, both new and old, tucked away to safety. But how could she possibly refuse earnest Petter, sweet old Inge, and stalwart Munkfred?

  As for Zacko, despite his well-documented aversion to ‘iffy situations’, he had this to say, “Don’t think there’s winning this argument, Princess. These souls already cast their lot, and we should take it as a point of pride and honor that they’ve thrown in with us. Now, we just have to do our part to prove they’ve made the right choice.”

  And that was that. A compromise was reached, whereby Munkfred once again hunkered down within the four walls of Ash’s ramparts. Inge and Petter squeezed into the resultant gutters. Not the most comfortable seats in the house, perhaps, but they did boast a good view of the action.

  “Keep your distance, and be ready to dash off at the first sign of trouble,” Serac left her living castle with last-minute instructions, receiving only a half-hearted ‘creeaa…?’ in response. It didn’t inspire the utmost confidence, but she’d have to take it for now. She couldn’t fault her Steed for wanting to stay close, and besides, if Renate were to be believed, there wasn’t much time left to—

  Crack! Grrakk! Skrrsshhh…

  Forget the Netherpool. The whole Realm shook, or close enough to make no difference. Serac immediately lost her footing as the ice beneath her began to split apart. Yet, even as she fell to her knees, her first instinct was to get eyeballs on Ash and its passengers.

  The stone-walled Steed proved much sturdier and perhaps even nimbler than its master. Its teeth were already at full churn as it sped away from the ice-quake’s epicenter. Atop its ramparts, a snow-dusted mound, a round-eyed mackerel, and a bundle of blankets poked their heads out. Shaken and stirred, perhaps, but not rattled.

  Serac took courage from their example. Her friends were watching and eagerly awaiting her victory. She couldn’t let them down. She couldn’t let herself down. This thing might be BIG enough to send its ripples through an entire frozen sea, but it wouldn’t be the first giant monster to fall before the Serac-Zacko partnership.

  Soon, the ice-quake gave way to the ripples themselves. Serac hadn’t even been trying to read, but she received the signals all the same. Her horns bucked and shuddered with such intensity she was sure they’d snap clean off. And under this most violent and oppressive tutelage, a Rakshasa managed her clearest ripple-read yet.

  A leviathan lurked in the abyssal deep. No, not lurked—no longer. The thing whipped its monstrous tail about as it made its rapid ascent, leaving maelstroms and mass graves in its wake. As it rose, all of its multitudinous ocular globes—too many to count—rotated ever inward, maintaining their focus on the two souls to which it owed its latest feast.

  “Get ready, Zacko!” Serac shouted at the top of her lungs just to hear herself. “It’s co—”

  The Netherpool opened its jaws—literally this time.

  Serac lost her footing. Not because the ice at her feet had split apart, but because it—along with her and Zacko—had separated completely from the rest of the surface. Her insides fell through and out of her belly—the telltale sensation of freefall. Strange, considering she’d been standing on solid ground just a Ksana ago, with nothing but water underneath. But not at all strange, considering she currently was freefalling. Into the open gullet of a giant prawn.

  CHOMP!

  [2,523!]

  Solid into liquid into vapor into food.

  Ah, I get it now, Serac thought as she reacquainted with the painful yet oddly peaceful feeling of Souldust-ification. At the same time, she couldn’t help but feel a little silly about the trouble she’d gone through to ‘conserve her resources’. No wonder Renate gave us no chance. I mean, who in the Six Realms could survive that opener?

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