[Chapter 55. Without Mana]
With a soft metallic clang that echoed off the narrow tunnel walls, a tin can fell to the hard stony ground. The last remnants of fish and tomato sauce clinging to its side. Iris placed the bottle of water back into the provisional bag at her waist, the contents rough against her matted fur.
Slowly, she pushed herself up from the ground. The pain now a dull ache rather than the sharp, fiery torment it had been moments before. Her strength returning after the brief but necessary pause. Sadly, the same could not be said about her mana. It was completely empty. It did not regenerate, even after a few minutes of waiting and rest. The numbers in her status screen remaining stubbornly at zero. The orange glow from the chamber ahead lured her in, a siren's call of warmth and light in the oppressive darkness of the Burrowing Depths.
Her Zweih?nder clutched in both hands, emitted only a dim flickering turquoise light. A mere ghost of its former brilliance. Each step forward was a cautious calculation, the massive blade's width forcing her to walk sideways in places where the tunnel walls constricted. The cold stone scraping against the metal with an unnerving grating sound. The weapon once a symbol of overwhelming power, was now a liability in these claustrophobic confines. Its unwieldiness a constant reminder of her vulnerability.
As she entered the chamber. The orange glow intensified, revealing a scene of alien beauty and simmering danger. Massive pulsating pools of molten-like liquid dotted the cavern floor, their fiery light reflecting off crystalline formations on the walls that seemed to breathe with an inner light.
Near the largest pool, a creature lay coiled. Its segmented body a glistening mix of near black and burnt orange, the heat radiating from it palpable even from a distance. It was a Greater Flame Spewer. Its maw slightly agape, revealing rows of needle-like teeth and a faint internal glow that mirrored the pools around it, a promise of the destructive power it held within. Iris's grip tightened on her Zweih?nder, the familiar weight a cold comfort against her rising dread. She had no mana, no spells to fall back on. Only the blade and her wits.
The Flame Spewer uncoiled with a soft scraping sound, its body lengthening as it rose to its full terrifying height. Its segmented scales catching the orange light in a dizzying hypnotic pattern. The air grew thick with the smell of sulfur and something acrid, a promise of the fire it was about to unleash. A scent that burned her nostrils and made her eyes water. With a lurch, the creature plunged headfirst into the nearest molten pool. Vanishing beneath the bubbling orange surface without a sound.
She scanned the chamber, her silver eyes tracking every shimmering pool. Their surfaces shifting like living things, casting dancing reflections across the crystalline walls. A soft gurgle broke the tense silence from the pool to her far left. A sound like bile rising in a throat. She spun, bringing the Zweih?nder up in a defensive arc just as the Flame Spewer erupted from the molten liquid in a violent spray of fire.
A stream of liquid flame shot from its maw, not in a concentrated blast. But in a wide napalm-like arc that seared the stone where it landed, the rock blackening and cracking under the intense heat. The air grew superheated, waves of blistering heat washing over her fur as the viscous fluid began to spread. Its foul sulfuric stench filling her lungs.
Iris lunged, her body a blur of motion as she scrambled away from the spreading inferno. Her heart hammering against her ribs. The flames licked at her heels, the heat a palpable force that singed the tips of her fur. The acrid smell of burning hair filling her nostrils. She vaulted over a low crystal formation, her claws scrabbling for purchase on the smooth hot surface. The heat radiating through her paw pads.
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The Zweih?nder still in her grasp, felt impossibly heavy. Its metal growing hot to the touch, the familiar grip now a source of pain. She landed hard, the impact jarring her teeth. Rolling to her feet just as another stream of liquid fire arced toward her, forcing her to dive behind a massive glowing crystal for cover. The crystal's surface warm against her back.
Trapped behind the crystal, the intense heat began to wear her down. The air thick and difficult to breathe, each inhalation a searing agony. She could feel her strength waning. Her muscles protesting with every movement, the burns on her skin throbbing with a dull persistent pain. She peered around the crystal, her silver eyes narrowed as she watched the creature slither back into another pool. Its form vanishing into the molten depths, the surface sealing over it with a soft hiss.
The chamber fell silent again. The only sounds the bubbling of the pools and the soft crackle of burning liquid on the stone floor, a sound that seemed to mock her. She knew she couldn't stay here. She had to move, to find a way to end this before she was consumed by the flames. Her mind racing for a solution that seemed increasingly impossible.
With a desperate snarl that ripped from her throat, Iris pushed herself away from the crystal and sprinted toward the center of the cavern. Her legs pumping, her body screaming in protest. Her claws scrabbled on the hot stone, her paws finding little purchase as the intense heat began to take its toll. The ground softening beneath her.
She could feel the burns on her legs and arms, the skin blistering and peeling. She ignored the pain, her mind focused on a single desperate thought. Her will to survive overriding the agony that threatened to consume her.
The Flame Spewer erupted from another pool with a violent hiss, its segmented body glistening with molten liquid that dripped from its scales like living lava. It opened its maw, a stream of liquid fire shooting toward her with terrifying speed. Iris leaped, her body twisting in midair as she narrowly avoided the searing flames that would have reduced her to ash. She landed hard, her claws scraping against the stone as she skidded to a stop. The sound echoing in the cavern.
The Zweih?nder hummed in her hands, the blade resonating with a faint almost imperceptible energy despite her empty mana reserves.
Iris saw her opening as the Flame Spewer surfaced again. Its body half-emerged from the bubbling pool, vulnerable in the brief moment before it could retreat. She charged. The Zweih?nder held low to the ground, her muscles screaming in protest. The creature reacted, its body coiling to strike. But she was faster. The blade, a blur of turquoise light despite its dim glow. Sliced through the air, finding the soft unprotected flesh between the creature's armored plates. The cut went deep, a spray of dark fiery ichor erupting from the wound that sizzled against the stone floor.
The Flame Spewer let out a gurgling shriek that echoed through the cavern, its body convulsing as it tried desperately to push itself back into the safety of the pool. There was a wet, tearing sound as it vanished into the molten liquid. Its other half remaining behind, cleanly severed by her blade.
Iris stood over the smoldering remains, her chest heaving with ragged breaths. Her body a canvas of burns and wounds that throbbed with each heartbeat. She had won, but the cost was high. She slumped to her knees. The Zweih?nder clattering to the ground beside her as darkness began to close in at the edges of her vision.
With her last ounce of strength, she pushed herself off the hot floor. Using her blade as a crutch, the metal warm against her burned hands. Slowly. She dragged her ravaged body toward the tunnel entrance, its cool air a welcome relief against her scorched fur. She reached for the bag at her side—only to grasp empty air.
The bag was gone.
She looked back into the chamber. She must have dropped it during the desperate fight, its contents now likely consumed by the spreading flames that filled nearly half the cavern. Their greedy tongues licking at the crystalline formations.
A wave of despair washed over her, cold and sharp. Her provisions—the food and water he had left her—were gone, consumed by the very creature she had just slain. The irony was bitter, a cruel twist in an already nightmarish landscape. Her body ached with an intensity that stole her breath, the burns on her legs and arms a constant throbbing reminder of the brutal fight.
She was alone, wounded and without supplies.
The chamber ahead was a tomb of fire and death. The tunnel behind her was a dark uncertain path into the unknown. Iris looked down at her trembling hands, then at the Zweih?nder lying beside her. Its dim turquoise glow a small beacon in the oppressive darkness.
She had no choice.
She had to keep going.
