138, 1/2

A heavy mist flowed through the darkened mountain valley, collecting on Ezekiel’s magenta armor and the leaves of nearby trees. Far above, the sun shone brightly, but down here, in the mist, water dripped from the edge of his visor and seeped into his clothes, leaving him colder than he would have liked. He moved forward, along with the rest of his people, his feet easily finding purchase on the rocky, mossy path. He held a staff to help secure his footing, but it was mostly a weapon, for the enemy was all around. They would attack at any moment.

A gust of wind forged a wayward path down into the valley, setting off a cascade of rain from the trees above, dousing the party and filling the sky with a rushing sound. The afternoon sun, lazy as could be, briefly appeared, revealing some of the valley.

Ezekiel, and then everyone else, paused, to gaze out across the way.

Trees, like reaching arms, stretched out from the broken land, into the sky, the collected moisture upon them sparkling in the little light of the sun. Birds and beasts called out for mates. Bugs buzzed around the barest scraps of a recent gory meal, which was only a single finger bone. Everything got eaten up, it seemed; that bone wouldn’t last long. Moss covered half of everything, while lichens and ferns and smaller plants covered everything else. Here and there mushrooms sprouted, like small adventuring parties clustered together for safety in the obscuring mist, just like Ezekiel, Julia, Tiffany, and Paul, there on that mountain path.

As for what they needed safety from? It was obvious.

Claw marks in trees delineated territory. Broken trunks, without moss growing on the breaks, were evidence of recent battle. All across the green space, Ezekiel counted the target monsters by their reflective blue eyes, as the monsters gazed upward, wondering where the mist had gone.

Some of them locked eyes with Ezekiel. They began to move.

Half of the target monsters were curled around claw-carved trees; the other half were out in the open, moving from one spot to the next. They might have best been described as lizard-buffaloes. Or maybe tiny dragons, though everyone was of the opinion that dragons would take offense at that, so if the wrong person overheard, to call Mist Stone Gluttons ‘tiny dragons’ would be an error one might not make a second time.

Mist Stone Gluttons of the Tribulation Mountains were the preferred hunting target for many, for there were always more of them. It would be incorrect to say that they multiplied like rabbits, but only because they had abandoned biology. They were now, most firmly, a variety of half-stone elemental. The other half was mist. The entire monster was, altogether, little more than a rabid desire to kill anything that walked on the ground. They usually won those battles, for a few reasons—

Mist flooded the valley. The gluttons were already moving, as silent as the mists.

Paul sent, ‘Here they come.’

They were in a dangerous location, on a mountain path with the mountain on their left and the valley far below, on the right. It was the perfect ambush spot for the gluttons. It had to be. If you didn’t give them openings, then they would run away. But with Julia in front, Tiffany in the rear, and Ezekiel and Paul in the center, all lined up on the path? This was how you got the gluttons to engage.

Otherwise, they—

The ground on Ezekiel’s left slipped. Moss parted. Mist flowed forward, becoming stone claws and stone jaws. He shoved his thorny shield in the monster’s face while his staff went to the right, blocking a claw. The glutton bit down, chipping itself, the same second that Julia reached backward with her three-meter long sword and pierced the creature where its brain should have been.

Ezekiel was already running several spells, including [Hunter’s Instincts].

It seemed that with all his new Stats, that his ability to consider the flow of battle under the influence of [Hunter’s Instincts] was multiplied, several-fold. This had almost proven to be a problem when facing the Hunters earlier in the day. It was almost a problem right now.

He had a great many extraneous thoughts about the weight of mist stone, a few concerns about claws trying to tear through his staff and his leg, his footing on the mossy, rocky path, and, of course, one must never forget about inertia. Inertia was the most important factor here, though.

Ezekiel ducked, moving his body in a way he had while sparring, but not used in actual combat much. The mostly-dead creature tried to scrabble upon his magenta armor, but death came as Julia’s sword severed its head off, and Ezekiel dipped all the way to the ground and let the creature sail right over him. The Mist Stone Glutton became merely dead mist stone, as the corpse shot into the open air.

It was only the first glutton. It was the smallest, too, at two meters long. It was a probing strike, meant to take out the smallest member of the party and send the rest into disarray. Ezekiel had thoughts to spare about being offended, but he let those go.

The second and third glutton came from the empty mist on the right, both aimed at Tiffany; one at her head, the other at her leg.

Ezekiel tossed a [Slowing Bolt] at the leg-aimer.

Tiffany ignored the suddenly-stopped seven-meter long glutton with its jaws open around her leg. The other one flowed at her, its four legs positioned forward, its decimeter-long claws splayed like some velociraptor. Tiffany responded with a twist of her whole body and a gauntleted fist rocketing forward in a straight punch. She never touched the beast. The beast never clawed her. It turned to mist, flowing over her, recombining on the other side, its jaws already open and almost latching on to Tiffany’s right shoulder.

Another two gluttons came for Julia. One fast, and almost there, the second hanging back a fraction.

Ezekiel shot off another 500 mana [Slowing Bolt], aimed to assist his daughter. He clipped the glutton that held back, the second one, so it could not assist its friend. Blue mist froze over with pink frost.

Julia smashed upward with shadow spears, impacting the first glutton through several parts of its body. Her attack was ineffective; this larger one knew how to move its body better than the smaller, first one that she had easily killed. Mist separated around those shadowed spears. The monster recombined right beside where it had been, only to stop moving for the briefest of moments.

Paul’s telepathic intent had done that; Ezekiel noticed his invisible lines of intent upon the monster.

Julia used that moment to attack the creature with a guillotine of shadows done in triplicate, crashing through the glutton’s neck, back, and tail. All three attacks bounced off hardened stone; the other ability that Mist Stone Gluttons were known for; the incredible durability of the older ones.

Three seconds had passed since the fight began.

Ezekiel shot off another [Slowing Bolt], Stopping the sixth glutton that appeared in the open air, directly above Paul. Jaws froze open right above the bluescale’s head. Paul nimbly blipped out of the way as several tons of toothy lizard dropped down where he had been. The beast crashed next to Ezekiel, then tumbled down the mountain, breaking every piece of itself as it fell. It seemed that shadow strikes were less effective than pure gravity. A notification came.

Ha.

Ezekiel shot off two more pink glows at the remaining two gluttons; the one on Julia, and the one on Tiffany. Julia’s monster froze pre-pounce. Tiffany’s beast was halfway sunk into the mossy mountain when it suddenly moved no more. The large woman had managed to keep her monster occupied with a few feints and a few taps of her massive fists, until Ezekiel could lock it down for good.

The battle was over, and yet it was not over at all. Six gluttons had appeared. Maybe more would come. But they shouldn’t. There hadn’t been any notifications, though—

A blue box appeared.

It had taken five seconds for the first glutton, the smallest one, to fall off of the mountain and to break itself in the tumbling impact.

Julia hammered her Stopped target with her sword, once, then again, then again. Sparks flew, but no notification. The creature was still Stopped.

Tiffany laughed as she brought her joined fists down on the second target, jutting from the mountain. She broke the glutton’s head away from its body like snapping an icicle. “Come’on Julia! Hit it harder! Like this!” Tiffany lifted her foot and brought it down upon the still-Stopped head of the glutton at her feet. Another snap filled the misty valley with a resounding echo. Another notification came right after. “Easy!”

Julia cursed, then discarded her thin sword. She pulled a massive hammer from the air and brought it down upon her targets. Her first [Strike] deflected like she had struck a mountain. She tried again; angrier this time. The glutton’s head snapped from the body, killing it. She killed the second one in the same way, though that one took four hits; four [Strike]s.

Ezekiel got up from the ground. He said, “There’s five in the mists around us, still. They’re not approaching.” He fired off another [Slowing Bolt] at the nearest one, twenty meters away and floating in the air of the valley. Pink light struck the mist—

And the beast froze out of the air, like a suddenly-condensed ice cube. It fell down, crashing through trees and breaking in the passage. The other gluttons raced away. Julia eyed the mist as Paul brushed moss off from his hands as he stepped next to Ezekiel. Tiffany sighed out, giving a great big smile to the world.

Dismantling the killed beasts went fast with [Stoneshape]. Mist Stone was valuable if you killed the glutton correctly and if you had a nice variant, like a red or black or metal-flecked, but these particular gluttons were blue-grey pure stone, the most common kind. Not technically worthless, but using [Stoneshape] to sift the ‘cores’ out of the corpses ruined the natural striations that made the stone valuable in the first place. And they were broken, anyway, so that ruined the price right away.

The bodies at the bottom of the valley were already being dissected by other stone gluttons and made into more stone gluttons, so they didn’t bother grabbing those. Four 10-mana cores were enough. Under Spur’s exchange rates, that was 20 gold, which was almost like 6000 dollars, which should get them room and board for three days.

… But that was under Spur’s exchange rates.

Tiffany asked, “We’re not done yet, right?”

“We are not.” Ezekiel said, “20 gold is not going to cover much of anything.”

Julia kicked a glutton’s head down the mountainside, saying, “I’ve met Stone Wyverns less tough than these guys.”

“It’s [Defend],” Ezekiel said. “Along with the perks of being elemental.”

Tiffany smiled, crashing her fists together, as she said, “Let’s get some more.”

Ezekiel was less generous with the [Slowing Bolt]s the second time. It wouldn’t do to get over reliant on that sort of spell.

– – – –

Moss-covered stone shifted underfoot as Tadashi ran, heedless of the dangers in the mist, for the dangers behind him were much worse than the gluttons hiding just beyond sight.

Laughter echoed behind.

A whistling sound carried forward. He dodged left, hugging the mountainside. A red bolt flew to the right, to vanish into the mists. Tadashi’s bare shoulder slammed into the rock face. He forced himself up and ran, leaving a bloody spot on the canyon wall where he had been. He raced down a stone fall, cutting his bare feet. Injury did not matter. Pain did not matter. Blood flowed, leaving prints wherever he stepped.

If only he could get past the wards, then someone might see him, then he might be free.

Tadashi ran. Another whistle came from behind. He could not dodge; he slipped, blood fouling his step. He grabbed for anything he could find to save himself from going over the edge. He saved himself from a deadly drop.

But then a sparking red bolt struck the rock overhead, breaking granite into more gravel. Shards struck Tadashi’s skin, causing even more injury than the needle-collar around his neck. Pain flared, for the thousandth time. Being at zero health was already a death sentence in any other situation, but Tadashi had no choice. He had to run, even if the canyons were full of gluttons. He had to get away. Otherwise—

A hand clamped over the back of his neck, driving the needles further into this skin as one of his captors pressed his face into the stone. He cried out, in pain, in anguish, in hatred.

His captor, The Sadist, laughed, saying, “We let you walk around, and this is how you repay us.” Mirth vanished. Rage appeared. The man leaned into Tadashi’s neck, his hand almost becoming a fist, threatening to break bones all over again. He had done it before. A man could survive a broken neck for a little while. Tadashi’s neck did not break today, though. The man had other ideas. He said, “The price of your transgression is the normal price. Your femurs will become like glass shards.”

Tadashi’s heart beat hard. His captor’s second hand went around Tadashi’s left leg, halfway encircling the emaciated limb, made weak from repeated healing. Tadashi whimpered, pleading for mercy, yet knowing that he would gain none. The captor’s hand clenched. Tadashi tensed, waiting for the pain.

The captor whispered, “You can end this at any time. Just give us what we want.”

The hateful man did not wait for an answer. This hateful man was not the master, who wished for secrets that Tadashi could never give away. He was just a sadist who liked to inflict pain upon others, as he had done to Tadashi many times before.

Bones broke, like rotten wood.

Tadashi thought he had no more screams. He was wrong.

“Quit whining, Tadashi! It’s just pain!” His captor laughed. “But please continue to defy us! This is so much fun!”

And then his second pursuer spoke, “Boss says we’re done with collars. We’re gonna force him to make it.”

“Ha!” The Sadist said to Tadashi’s ear, “Hear that, ya shit? We’re gonna Elixir you up.”

“No!” Tadashi cried, “No! Please—”

“Ah! Shut up,” the Sadist said, shaking Tadashi by the neck. “I guess this means I can’t break you anymore. Not with Elixir in you. Ha!”

Tadashi was well past panicking by the time they dragged him back behind the full wards of their camp. When their boss held up a vial of grey metallic liquid, Tadashi began to beg. They healed him, first, ensuring that his bones were in the right places, while he begged louder and louder.

The Sadist said, “We only want one thing from you, Tadashi.”

They forced him to drink the Antirhine Elixir.

All magic fled.

They laughed as they removed his collar. He still bled a bit, but that blood eventually stopped on its own. He would carry the scars of it for the rest of his life, though.

Maybe his life wouldn’t be too long, now? He couldn’t give them what they wanted! Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t…

He found himself not caring about anything, anyway.

Nothing mattered.

All magic was gone.

Tadashi was an alchemist, though. One very versed in the Antirhine Elixir. This was why, even though he had no thoughts for the rest of his life and everything was ruined, he found himself thinking about all the various ways in which he was well and truly fucked.

You could take off antirhine manacles. You could remove the needles of certain Enforcers who liked to use those types of needles. But you couldn’t remove the Elixir. Not once it was inside of you. Imbibing the Elixir was a permanent change, given only to those too valuable to exile or kill. It was routinely forced upon Elders who were found guilty of a terrible dereliction of duty, like Tadashi’s great grandfather.

Tadashi glanced at his Status, and started to laugh. For the first time in a week his Health and Mana had started to rise. But what was the point? You couldn’t use any of that Health or Mana when you had the Elixir in you. Maybe you wouldn’t die to the smallest of cuts, and with Health to boost your immune systems and recovery systems you could heal from most unintentional small damage, but forming mana into magic? Forming Health into [Strike]s? All of that was now impossible.

He could accidentally eat an amoeba and he’d die to the shits. He couldn’t work in the alchemy labs anymore, for he would truly die without daily [Cleanse]s.

Ahh…

… Shit.

He would have to bathe himself, daily. Like his great grandfather had needed to do. It had been so degrading.

For a long while Tadashi laid there on the stone, in the center of the bandits’ camp.

And then the Sadist poked his calf with a knife. Tadashi yelped and moved to staunch the blood flow with his hands. The analytical part of himself eyed the wound, and knew it would close over fast enough; even faster now that he had some Health coming back to him. But it would scar over. Healing magic was now useless. He could make an ointment to gradually reduce the scar, but…

What was the point?

The Sadist was having none of Tadashi’s angst.

The Sadist mocked, “Little boy got a wound, huh? Why don’t I just heal it—” He reached forward with a glowing red hand. The light winked out as he touched Tadashi’s shoulder. “Ohhh. Such a shame. No magic for you, it seems. Best get to those herbs we got you. Work up a non-magical solution.”

A sudden, hard anger came over Tadashi. He spat, “I can’t cast the spells necessary to even attempt to make the potion now, you idi—”

A light punch sent Tadashi to the ground. A punch like that would have done less than nothing to Tadashi before his capture… before the Antirhine Elixir. But now… He couldn’t fight. He was useless.

The Sadist loomed over him, saying, “We provide for your every need. We have your payment of ten thousand gold when you complete the potion. All we ask is that you do one little thing that we know you know how to do. Your obstinance is becoming tiring.” He twirled a finger at the ground around Tadashi, saying, “And this act is especially tiring. One would think you didn’t even know how to make what we know you can.”

“I can’t, though. I managed an experiment that worked once and I don’t even know which part of the experiment caused success! I told you all this already! And the potion wasn’t even biologically compatible! It would kill a person if they drank that!” Tadashi said, “I told you this already!”

The Sadist held his knife. “I can poke more holes in you if you wish. Do you want that? Or.” He pointed at the alchemy shed that they had tried to get Tadashi to use for the last week. “You could try to make a second successful experiment; try to work your magic again.”

Tadashi lost all tension in his face, as melancholy came on him like a drowning tide.

The Sadist mocked, “Oh. Was ‘work your magic’ a bad choice of words?” He began to laugh.

Tadashi had already tried to kill the man several times, but he failed in each attempt. In that moment, he wanted to go for attempt number 9, even if it would kill himself in the process.

He walked toward the alchemy shed.

The Sadist laughed, following along.

– – – –

Three gluttons came from directly below. Ezekiel hopped into the air. Paul matched him, exactly, wordlessly picking up the ideas Ezekiel was putting down. Seven pink flashes flickered below the two of them as Ezekiel layered [Quick Wall]s one atop another, each one defending for 500 points of damage. It was enough. The three gluttons slammed against the Force like birds hitting a window.

Thump-thump-thump.

— Right as a large, orange maw appeared in the mists above Julia. She turned to light and the orange glutton, half-stone and half-mist, flowed through her, snapping and slashing at the ephemeral. Tiffany was suddenly there, at Julia’s side, her fists raised and empowered.

She struck the misty, orange monster, the fire power of her [Strike] becoming literal flames that burned away the orange mist.

The orange glutton roared in pain. It solidified, slamming into the side of the mountain, looking to escape, or— No. It attacked with its other weapon. A long, orange tail flickered across Julia. She deflected the flowing stone. The monster adjusted, aiming for the closer target, only by circumstance of her own height. Tiffany punched the monster as it tried to maw her from above—

Julia called out, “Freeze him! That’s money!”

Ezekiel did so, throwing a thousand-mana [Slowing Bolt] at the orange beast.

The orange glutton was half-sunk into the mountainside, looming over the path, its maw open, hissing as it came in for another strike against Tiffany. Pink mist flowed over the monster and it became more Gothic-architecture than threat.

While that beast chilled out, the four warriors of Clan Phoenix accepted the regroup-attack of the three smaller monsters, who had been underground, but now were not. The ground was still covered in pink Force. The gluttons attacked from the open, misty air.

Julia threw a [Fireball] at the mist. Heat bloomed in the wet valley. Mist burned. Mist Stone monsters shifted fully to stone and dropped to the valley wall, below the path. They burned, but they scrambled into the mountain, leaving behind that fire.

Tiffany got into position. She waited. Ezekiel checked on the Stopped orange beast; it would be Stopped for a while. More than long enough to finish this fight.

Paul held himself ready to do… whatever it was he did.

Paul glowered at Ezekiel. “I helped us to jump at the right time, if you must know exactly, but it seemed like you already did.”

“Right. That.” Ezekiel said, “Thank you very much, Paul.”

“Do you want to try a fight without me assisting?” Paul asked, going from rather annoyed to simply asking. But Ezekiel could tell he was still actually mad.

“Well of course I am! Every time—” Paul shut up. He almost said something else, but then kept his mouth shut.

Tiffany looked away from the man, toward the mist, and said, “Hmm.”

Julia eyed the mountain. “… Are they done?”

“I think so,” Ezekiel said. Then he turned to Paul. “Sorry about that.”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“I never throw out any spells except when necessary. I know what it looks like.” Paul said, “It looks like I do nothing at all.”

“Are the monsters done?” Julia asked, stress in her voice.

Tiffany relaxed. “They’re hanging out a hundred meters away, down the mountain. Four are above us, doing the same.”

“… So the fight is over?” Julia asked. “I’m not letting anyone talk about tactics till we’re sure we’re safe.”

“We’re safe,” Ezekiel said. “As safe as we could be in the Tribulation Mountains, anyway.”

“Then let’s have this discussion: The only way to get better is to actually get better,” Julia said. “Maybe you wouldn’t need to ask what Paul does if you can see what it’s like when he’s not active.” She looked to Paul, saying, “These fights are honestly way easier than they should be. These are level 45 monsters, and every single one is using [Defend] in battle. That automatically makes them an entire star rank or two higher than usual. I’d put them at a 5. 6 for a pack, and they are clearly pack hunters. They are killers. This has been too easy.” She looked to Ezekiel, saying, “And you can’t even appreciate how much easier this is with Paul here. You fight way too many things from absolute range. It has made you tactically weak for the kind of thing we are trying to do here in the Highlands.”

Ezekiel had what was either a brain-fart, or a revelation. He turned to Paul, asking, “Do you not like adventuring because people don’t see what you’re actually doing? And they always dislike having you around for that reason?”

Paul’s eyes went wide, and then narrowed. “Okay. That’s part of— Just. You know— Just. You can forget about that little revelation you’ve just had, if you please. I am not that needy.”

Tiffany’s eyes went wide. “Oh my gods. Paul!” She teased, “Is that true? Do you not feel wanted?”

“Of course he doesn’t feel wanted,” Julia said, “His power is soft in a world of hardness.”

Paul ignored everyone, and said, “We should try a few fights without me! These might be large-threat monsters, but they won’t be able to kill you in one hit, Ezekiel. Not with all that magic on you.”

“I’m so sorry, Paul.” Ezekiel said, “I have seen you work before. I know what you can do. I just… I forget, I guess? I have no excuse. Sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Tiffany said, smiling.

Paul frowned deeply at her. “No.”

Tiffany opened her arms and tried to approach Paul for some physical affection. But Paul stepped around Ezekiel and did not let the woman get closer.

“Again, I am sorry, Paul,” Ezekiel said as the man took refuge behind him. “We don’t have to talk about your perfectly valid responses to other people’s ignorance, mine included, if you don’t want to.”

Paul stopped and leveled a glare at Ezekiel.

Ezekiel stepped away, clearing a path for Tiffany, who then instantly caught the man and pulled him up and off the ground, into a hug. Paul protested, as was his wont. Ezekiel reached up and patted the man on the back, saying, “Sorry, sorry.”

Tiffany dropped the man, adding her own small apology.

Paul protested louder, saying, “You already know what I do, Tiffany! Why are you pretending at this nonsense?”

“Because even I can see you need a hug,” Tiffany confessed.

“No. What I need is a drink.” Paul said, “I have decided I am a drinker.”

Ezekiel smiled, then looked to the orange glutton, still stuck like an overhanging gargoyle above the mountain path. He pointed. “So?” He said, “This guy is still alive. Variant gluttons are worth money if we can kill it and keep the body intact.”

Paul rolled his eyes. “We’re gonna need that money for the drinking, later.”

“I agree.” Tiffany nodded, as she reached forward and patted Paul on the head.

He slapped her hand away, scowling.

Tiffany said, “I am sorry that not everyone sees your worth. You’re worth a lot to me.”

Paul groaned, “Oh my gods.”

Ezekiel added, “You’re worth a lot to me, too!”

Julia said, “I already knew your worth.”

“And Tiffany does, too, but she’s having too much fun.” Paul straightened himself, adding, “And none of you are being false friends, and that almost makes it worse.”

“Makes it better, you mean!” Tiffany smiled.