Just as he does, her eyes open. They’re frickin’ glowing with a murderous red light. Snarling like a beast she tears a second sword out of a sheath across her back and explodes into motion.
The nearest wave of monsters simply burst into chunks of Biomass when she smashes into them like a cannon ball, blades flashing as her murderous aura rises all the while. All technique and finesse seems to have left her. She rips her blades through the air, cleaving foes up to ten feet away with wild swings.
Instead of the light of her skills being pure white, as every other time I’ve ever seen a skill activated, even her own, the light flowing from her swords is bright red. The monsters almost appear intimidated to find this creature amongst them, but it’s too late. She swings with wild abandon, slashing left and right, leaving herself wide open to attack.
Some attacks actually do manage to get through, the occasional monster making it to her and raking its claws against her arms or across her leather armour.
She doesn’t care.
She doesn’t even seem to notice.
In fact, my startled eyes notice that as that hungry red light continues to tear apart monsters with every flash of steel, her wounds are closing.
The hell is this? This is freakin’ hot to death.
She’s some sort of Vampiric Berserker?
And she thinks I’M the monster!
I have to say though, watching her in action, a snarling rictus of pure rage locked on her face and her eyes alive with hate, actually glowing with the light of rage—Well, it’s enough to bring a tear to my monstrous eyes. That’s the way to fight.
[Tiny, Crinis! Watch out, one of the humans is a flat-out berserker and she’s killing everything that gets anywhere close to her. Make sure you keep some distance. I don’t think she can recognise friend from foe.]
[Acknowledged, Master!]
[Grrrrr, FIGHT!]
I can only roll my eyes at Tiny as he resents my intrusion on his battle. In my mind’s eye, he’s bellowing with rage, the air around him alive with crackling electricity as his fists cause devastation amongst the thronging monsters.
As well as we’re doing, the wave is immense.
In the tunnels, we were able to use the narrow spaces to funnel the enemies into manageable numbers, forcing them to charge directly onto our spears, so to speak. Out here, it simply isn’t the case. They surround, they flow around and separate us. Even worse, some of them ignore us, rushing past the small number of fighters and charging into the village.
The front of this horde is so wide, that even the ant hill might be threatened at this rate. As monsters continue to break away from our melee and rush to the closest targets, I can see some of them dashing for the colony.
Not only that, I can tell that these monsters are not the freshly hatched creatures we battled in the tunnels. Despite being regular first strata beast-type monsters, they’ve got Levels and Biomass behind them, probably from destroying and consuming the people of Liria.
Their advanced skills and mutations are making them just that little bit harder to crack. Every minute difference begins to pile up rapidly in a melee like this.
This isn’t going well.
130. The Troops Arrive
Nineteen Ancients rose during the Cataclysm, the Rending. They were nurtured in the heart of this world. The oldest beings of the Dungeon, they were old long before the Dungeon broke the surface. In darkness they had battled, whilst the people of the surface were taking the first steps on the path to civilisation.
Their power was overwhelming. None could stand before them. When they moved, cities fell, nations crumbled and people died. Like immutable law, they were heedless of the plight of mortals, more akin to the forces of nature than creatures.
We record their sacred names here, that future generations might fear and venerate them as they deserve.
Yarrum the Eternal Worm.
Theorazzn of the Decaying World.
Syssernix the Dark Spear.
Morribolg of the Fetid Earth.
Carriflare the Hell Flame.
Rigorite the Mountain Breaker.
Tarriflyx the Hunger.
Arconidem the Demon God.
Zothoth who Feasts on Sanity.
Torra the Dread Dog.
Gon the Sightless Freak.
Yolesh the Ever Dying.
Lerrewyn the Grasping Tree.
Horgran the Butcher.
Perrianon of Blood.
Kygar the Storm Bringer.
Ruminominex Shaper of Earth.
Braxxin who Froze the Sky.
Odren the Father of Monsters.
Despite my misgivings about the current situation, Crinis is having a field day. I’ve been steadily making my way to the area my two pets are active, tying together knots of monsters and hitting the occasional heavy hitter with a pair of Gravity Bolts, effectively locking them down for a period of time.
When I finally get a view of Crinis, she is merrily carving away at the monsters around her, rending them, twisting them apart, throwing them into her unending maw of eldritch terror, and in general threshing the wheat these monsters are to her. Only when something larger and more powerful approaches does she have any difficulty.
As I approach, a mighty looking Lion Ogre charges at her, its heavy feet thundering into the ground as the powerfully built creature reaches out with clawed hands.
[Watch out, Crinis!] I shout.
Naturally, she was totally aware of the creature through her Tremor Sense. Something that large and heavy had to be lighting it up like a firework. Before it can grasp her, ten tentacles explode out of her main body and wrap around the creature’s legs, pulling them together.
CRASH!
Howling with fury, the Ogre can’t maintain its balance and collapses, shaking the earth so hard that several nearby monsters lose their feet. Despite hitting the ground so hard, the monster is largely unharmed. Snarling, the beast tries to rip at the tentacles binding its legs together, but Crinis is already there.
Yet more limbs snap out, twisting and winding around the monster, holding its wrists and torso. Crinis isn’t strong enough to win a contest of strength against something as physically imposing as a Lion Ogre, certainly not one of this size. But she doesn’t have to.
A horrible buzzing erupts from the tentacles as Crinis unleashes her barbs. The tiny, hooked blades move back and forth at incredible speeds. By the looks of things, the Lion isn’t enjoying it too much.
Not content with this level of existential terror, Crinis unfolds her main body, exposing the black, empty void ringed by distended fangs that is her mouth, and clamps it down on her foes shoulder, tearing into it without mercy.
The display is made even more horrific by the fact that she’s still got tentacles out harvesting monsters around her, even as she takes on this big fish. I think her Fear skill is kicking into effect. Several nearby creatures are looking decidedly intimidated, hesitating as the bloodlust that filled them only moments before is drained away by the sight of this eldritch terror.
You do you, Crinis. You’re all right in my books.
Even so, I might turn myself around. It’s hard for me not to be able to see what she’s doing, but if I angle my body just right, she falls into one of my more blurry patches of vision and I’m spared the full details of the gory scene.