83. Life Is But a Sinkhole

  In her novice wisdom, Serac used to think that the Tomasens were fast rowers—perhaps even too fast for her liking. But that was before she learned just how fast a turtle boat could move if the water willed it to.

  Trees and bushes zoomed by in a blur as the river rushed down the Realmtree’s Roots. The scenery changed so rapidly that Serac didn’t even notice when the lush greenery made way for a barren wasteland. In fact, she was so focused on the impending threat of Wildspawns that she forgot to even be scared of the water.

  And rightly so, for the threat now came not from the water but the land—from the Realmtree itself.

  From both sides of the river appeared great, hissing globs of Zealous energy. They bubbled to the surface from the roots themselves, before rising into the air to form neat lines. With their green color and densely veiny surface, the globs appeared as poor imitations of dragon blood trees, as they escorted the Wayfaring party’s whitewater rafting course.

  But the globs, of course, wanted to do more than escort. In pairs of two, they pushed into the middle of the river to waylay the Wayfarers. And as the first pair approached, they did so bearing HP bars and Pathsighted labels, thus revealing themselves as designated Aberrants: [Slangespytt].

  Serac half-expected the Tomasen twins to take up OARS and save the day. To her surprise, however, the sturgeons remained in the water, holding firm to either side of the turtle shell. They then pushed and pulled the boat between themselves, thereby guiding it through the Slangespytt minefield.

  So, the Tomasens had chosen evasion over counterattack. And it seemed to work… at least for the first few Slangespytt pairs. Then the currents proved too unruly and the enemies too many for even the veteran Pretjordians to handle.

  One green glob caught Hans on the starboardside. The disruption caused a chain reaction of botched dodges that allowed the next several Slangespytts to make contact with all four Wayfarers—including a Serac who was still on her knees.

  [53!]

  In all fairness, it felt less like an attack and more a slobbery hug from a well-meaning grandma. Serac pushed away the green glob out of reflex, but barely suffered any pain from the encounter. Even the damage was paltry compared to some of the hard hits she used to take on the regular one Realm below. But then—

  [Wayfarer Status Effect: POISON (x1)]

  [4!], [4!], [4!], …

  [1], [1], [1], …

  Ahh, so it’s like that, eh? A damage-over-time effect that ticked by the second, much like [Bleed]. With her [Lesser Regen] active, Serac would be losing three points per second, which seemed rather manageable. But Pathsight wouldn’t give two different names for the same effect, would it? There must be something that sets [Poison] apart from [Bleed]…

  “Indeed you’re right,” Trippy came in with the glossary assist. “The main difference is that [Poison] can stack, up to five times, with the damage rate going up multiplicatively at each stack. If you’re not careful, it can get very out of hand very quickly.”

  Oh, Serac didn’t like the sound of that. All the more reason to demand the local Wayfarers do a better job of protecting the party.

  “Why aren’t you guys fighting back like you did with the Rumpetrolls?” she shouted, her voice yo-yoing along with the boat’s herks and jerks.

  “Cannot,” came Lars’s simple answer. “Slangespytt have full mitigation against Physical and Zealous.”

  Oh, Serac didn’t like the sound of that. Assuming the OARS dealt Physical damage and COASTER Zealous, that meant the Tomasen twins literally had no way to hurt the Slangespytts. No wonder they’d gone straight to all-out evasion.

  “But they also weak to other damage types,” this from Hans on the other side, speaking for the first time ever. Compared to his brother, his voice had a gruff roughness to it, but maybe the Wayfarers’ present predicament had something to do with that.

  “Well, why didn’t you say so sooner?” Zacko stood to his full height, at the same time donning his VISAGE, Buddha-side up. Then his sallow complexion took on a purplish aura as he channeled his Erudite magic.

  Not to be outdone, Serac finally did remove REVOLVER from its holster. But she chose to remain kneeling and closer to the ground, which was one benefit of being a ranged fighter. Let’s see… I guess the first thing is to convert my damage type.

  [Chamber One: BLOOD FOR BLOOD]

  [SLANGESPYTT Status Effect: BLEED]

  [Wayfarer Status Effect: BLEED]

  [6!], [6!], [6!], …

  Oh, the things Serac did for a smite! Who needed a second stack of [Poison] to kill her faster when she could simply inflict herself with [Bleed]? This second DoT effect pushed her HP loss to a rate she couldn’t be too comfortable with, but now wasn’t the time to worry about that.

  [190!], [190!]

  The twins were right. These green globs did seem to have reduced mitigation against Infernal, which gave a significant boost to the imbued bullets’ damage. Two hits were all it took to pop one Slangespytt like a balloon before it could reach the boat.

  [860 ?]

  [190!], [190!]. Two more bullets, another Slangespytt down. [860 ?]. Somewhere above Serac’s head, Zacko threw out an imbued fist for a smite of his own.

  The boat continued to rush with the water, and another pair of Slangespytts bore down on the party in no time. With one Cartridge left in the cylinder, Serac had a sudden flash of inspiration. [190!] into speedload into—

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  [Chamber One: EMBALMER]

  [100!]

  [190!]

  The second shot, instead of deflating the Slangespytt, turned the green glob into a pale-gray one—an [Enlisted Husk]. Serac didn’t expect it to deal any damage to its fellow balls of poison, but she hoped it’d at least serve a defensive purpose.

  And boy did it ever! The [Husk] stayed in the air and kept pace with the boat, herking and jerking to intercept the oncoming Slangespytts. One by one, the would-be [Poison]-spitters bounced off the turncoat, allowing Serac to pick them off with ease.

  [190!], [190!], [860 ?]. [190!], [190!], [860 ?].

  Of course, the [Husk] couldn’t stay [Enlisted] for long. Serac had more where that came from, however, and she was prepared to turn necromancer again, self-damage be damned.

  But, as she soon found out, the Realmtree had other ideas.

  The river shifted again, this time taking a sharp downward turn. The water sank below the level of the river banks, taking with it the turtle boat and its four occupants. The view of the wasteland, as well as the Slangespytts that bubbled from the surface, disappeared from view as the mossy bark of the roots themselves took their place.

  If Serac had been privy to Zacko’s Manesferan points of reference, she might’ve imagined a bathtub whose stopper had just been pulled loose. As such, the water now quite literally ‘circled the drain’, caught within some unseen phenomenon of undeniable power.

  “Uh, Sturgeon Boys? Any explanation for what’s happening?”

  “None,” came Lars’s prompt reply, voice utterly calm if somewhat distorted by the spiral movement. “Never see this before. Prepare for anything.”

  Serac took that to mean she ought to hold on even tighter than before. She secured REVOLVER back in its holster, then adopted her trusty prone position as she readjusted her grip on the turtle shell.

  But her efforts proved to be for naught. For in the next moment, a particularly violent wave rocked the whole boat, throwing not just Serac but the entire party off the turtle and into the water.

  Oh gods, not this again! The panic response took over as Serac felt her entire body submerged in frigid water. She shut her eyes, flailed her limbs, and prayed for salvation.

  Gurgle, gurgle, WHOOSH!

  Salvation came a lot sooner than she’d expected—though perhaps not in the exact form she’d hoped for.

  First, there was the terrifying sensation of having her whole body stretched from horn to toe and limb to limb. Just when she thought she might dislocate every joint in her body (which might still be preferable to drowning!), something gave way, instantly releasing her from the water’s hold, before dumping her unceremoniously onto solid ground.

  [353!]

  Fall damage! By the gods, she just couldn’t seem to stop losing HP in every manner under the sun. This latest hit did hurt quite a bit, and it took Serac several more seconds of feeling sorry for herself before she managed to sit up and take in her new surroundings.

  The first thing she noticed was just how dark the place was. Gone was the open wasteland and the glare of the midday sun. She’d ended up somewhere indoors with no windows, lit only by a faint greenish glow that emanated from its walls.

  As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she next realized that the place was huge. The aforementioned walls were to her back, but she could only see, nay, feel open air before, above, and below her. This wasn’t so much ‘indoors’ as a vast open space that just happened to be shut off from any outside light.

  The closest reference she had was the throne room in the erstwhile Ossuary, or perhaps the Aviary in the Damnatorium. But even those couldn’t compare to the scale, openness, and verticality of whatever this was. And it was the sheer size of it all—more so than the darkness or the strangeness—that made her skin goose bumps and her hair stand on end.

  Next came the sound. Or sounds, plural. At first, she thought it might be another rushing river, but there was a distinct second element: wind.

  Mighty currents swept up, down, and across this enormous space, but they were of both the hydro and aero varieties. In fact, Serac felt their combined effects as sprays that periodically whipped against her body and soaked through her clothes. Oh, I don’t like this. I don’t like this one bit.

  Thankfully, she didn’t have to suffer in isolation. Her senses soon attuned to more movements and sounds: soft footsteps and rustling fabric.

  “Zacko? Is that you?”

  “No.”

  Serac nearly jumped. The voice was a lot closer than she’d expected—and it hadn’t belonged to the person she’d hoped for. The towering figure of a sturgeon man emerged into the limelight, along with a Pathsighted label that identified him as Lars Tomasen.

  “Oh,” Serac managed, though she suddenly felt even more on edge. “Uh… hello. Are you alright? Have you seen the others?”

  Lars didn’t answer. Instead, he held out his hand, with a small object sandwiched between thumb and index finger. It was a dark-green pellet of some sort, about the size of an acorn and dripping with water.

  “Uh… what is it? What do you want me to do?”

  “Eat.”

  “Eat?” Serac was taken aback, and immediately a little suspicious. For all the twins’ impressive display as Wayfarers, she hadn’t forgotten who they worked for. “Well, I’m not sure I need to, really. Not that hungry. Yet.”

  “Not for [Hunger],” Lars insisted. “Antidote for [Poison].”

  “Oh,” Serac said dully, then realization hit her. “Oh! Actually, that might be a good call!”

  [Designation: Motgift Pellet]

  [Item Class: Consumable]

  [Item Description: Since time immemorial, Yakshas would take a nibble out of every new fruit, herb, or offal they came across, thus putting their life and body on the line to learn the Realmtree’s secrets. Some met with grand discovery, and others with lethal disaster. Survival of the fittest, or simply the luck of the draw? When consumed by a [Synthesis]-adept Wayfarer, the Motgift Pellet cures one stack of [Poison].]

  Serac popped the pellet in her mouth and chewed. Unlike the gourmet meal Petter Svensen had served up earlier, this one was soggy and bitter with a sharply acrid aftertaste. It did, however, work as advertised, giving a small bump-up to her [Satiety] gauge while also clearing up one of her DoT effects. But that still left—

  “You have anything for [Bleed]?” Lars asked, voicing the same concern.

  As a matter of fact, Serac did. One slice of the [Stone-cooked Ulvknall Liver], it too made soggy by river water. It’d also lost all of Chef Petey’s seasoning magic, but Serac ate it greedily nevertheless, knowing that her life depended on it.

  “Good,” Lars pronounced as he watched the Rakshasa finish her food. “Fortunate. Ulvknall liver a rare ingredient. Have not seen in quite some time.”

  That must have been the most number of words either of the Sturgeon Boys had strung together in one breath. For whatever reason, the thought of it made Serac smile.

  “Aren’t you jealous? I’ve got this special spell that lets me [Harvest] Aberrant parts, you see. Maybe I’m a better Yaksha than you Yakshas!”

  “Hm.” Lars sounded as though he couldn’t care less. “We move now. Find others. Find exit. Then find Finless.”

  “Lead the way, chief,” Serac said cheerfully, considerably less guarded than just moments prior. “By the way, what even is this place? I’ve never seen an ‘inside’ that’s so big and spacious—almost like this should really be an ‘outside’.”

  “Not certain, but I have guess,” Lars said, and even in the dim light, his scales visibly vibrated. “Have heard rumors but never seen for myself. I believe we are inside the Realmtree itself.”

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