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    The pale worm swayed like a thread caught in a gentle breeze, sweeping around as it blindly searched for prey. Kaius could feel the feverish heat that flooded through Porkchop’s body, a crawling miasma that spread from the bite on his leg.

    His brother’s words hung heavy in his mind. Venom.

    Kaius stood his ground, trusting in his brother’s fortitude as he slowly raised his sword. The worm seemed content to writhe aimlessly. He doubted it would last — something had triggered it.

    “Spire’s light!” Ianmus rushed to Porkchop’s side, solar mana already flaring on his staff

    The worm struck, racing towards the sudden noise — even with his mental stats and the growth of Truesight Kaius still saw little more than a streak of cream.

    He was still ready for it.

    Beyond simple class levels, he’d grown much in the last few months. Forged by Dissonance fueled his advance, Liturgical Bladeform powered his cut. Striking with a speed far beyond what he should possess, Kaius brought his blade down just behind the worm’s spiked beak.

    Soft flesh parted before the black and red edge of A Father’s Gift. Its head fell to the ground as its body cracked like a whip, hosing purple blood across the cave.

    Ignoring the pained panting of Porkchop behind him, Kaius stepped back and fell into his guard — ready for the battle to continue.

    The worm’s body continued to spasm uncontrollably, puddles of ichor growing beneath it. He wound tighter, tension flooding him. Nothing was ever so easy — not down here.

    It started to slow as its lifeblood fell free. Its flailing had churned the disturbed earth around it, coating it in a thick layer of mud made from its own juices.

    He risked a glance to its head. It too was squirming blindly, rolling in the dirt as what remained of its pale flesh knotted uncontrollably. Clean as his cut was, he could see its gelatinous flesh bubbling — Health burned in a tide as it tried to recover from the total severance.

    “Shoot it!” he hissed urgently, snapping his head to Kenva.

    The ranger’s face was twisted with a mix of shock and disgust, but she reacted to his words instantly.

    An arrow shot through the worm’s head, shattering to eviscerate what remained of its soft flesh.

    **Ding! level 247 Pale Rootborer – Envenomed Parasite slain – Experience Gained! Bonus Experience for slaying a foe of Significant Strength!**

    **Ding! Runeblade Initiate has reached level 139 > 141!**

    **+3 End, Str, & Int, +2 Dex, Wil, +1 Vit, Free – from Class & Racial Traits!**

    **Ding! Class skill available for selection!**

    The chime didn’t relax him, nor did he feel the radiant victory that usually came with earning his next skill. He watched the cave walls, a toxic miasma of tension holding him rooted at the head of their formation. Another worm could come from anywhere!

    The first had died far too easily — even in the unlikely circumstance it’d had a thousand Constitution, a worm’s body being twenty times as durable was still a fragile thing. That fragility only worried him more. Monsters often had natural physiques that defied comparison to mortal animals, even without stats — if this one’s gifts eschewed fortitude, it’s talents likely lay in other areas.

    Like whatever had caused Kenva to miss it despite the soulsight granted by her Farseer.

    Like its venom.

    The toxin coursed through Porkchop’s veins. His brother held strong, fortified by his reserves of Health and Vitality. No matter how fragile the worm might have been it was still a beast of the second tier. He could feel the weight of his brother’s agony as he fought against the affliction.

    Every moment that passed, he felt a tug grow stronger on his soul — joined by the steady chimes of ignored skill increases. With the immediate danger gone, it was almost overwhelming. Their bond, Vesryn Pact and Rapid Adaptation had forged some kind of channel the moment Porkchop had been struck. It was a sharing of energy that grew thicker and stronger by the second, but one he only loosely understood.

    He’d need to dive into his soulspace if he wanted to understand it further — he couldn’t. Not now.

    When no other pale tendrils erupted from the earth, Kaius lowered his blade — but not his guard — and rushed to his brother’s side. The worry he had suppressed crashed over him at what he saw. Porkchop was lying on his side, fangs exposed by a grimace of pain. Someone had peeled back the flap of leather that covered his wound. The sight of it cut Kaius to the core.

    It was a blackened and necrotic crater stuck in a continuous boil as Porkchop’s body desperately produced new growth. Blood and puss weeped free, falling in chunks like spoilt milk.

    Ianmus was crouched next to the wound — golden mana streaming around his staff — while Kenva stood sentinel over them both.

    Kaius charged over, laying his hand on his brother’s side. It was hot. Scorching. Porkchop’s chest rose and fell like he’d run a league, batting against his palm.

    Fear tightened its grip.

    “Talk to me!” Kaius yelled.

    Porkchop’s eyes swivelled to him, the white bloodshot.

    “My leg feels like it’s being caressed by a dozen butterflies, and it’s delightfully warm — like a hot bath. You should give it a try!” Porkchop tried to chuckle — it came out as a wet hack.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Kaius leaned over and smacked him across the back of the head.

    “Be serious! How’s your health? Are you fighting it off?”

    “Fine — I feel bloody terrible. Health is a quarter down, but Ianmus is keeping it topped off. That formation of yours is helping too — it’s fighting back. Slowly, but it’s getting stronger.”

    Relief burst through him as Kaius sagged. Porkchop was going to make it, thank the gods.

    “How long until it’s gone?”

    Porkchop stilled. A glimmer of fear returned. “How long, Porkchop.”

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