Experi-

Experi-

Experi-

Experi-

Experi-

Experi-

The snake spasmed violently as the group of insectile monsters caught between its coils began to rise again, coatings of death-based mana already forming around the monsters’ chitin - and then disappearing entirely, as the serpent’s powerful coils pulverized its captured victims entirely. Without enough of their bodies left to raise, the mana faded away.

Experience Gained!

Experience Gained!

Experience Gained!

Experience Gained!

Experience Gained!

Level up!

1 Trait Point Gained.

Experience Ga-

Only a single member of the group, its body cushioned by those of its kin, stayed whole enough for reanimation to successfully take place. The snake felt a distant sense of annoyance in regard to that, mixed in with an equally-distant - but far more powerful - sense of triumph, each emotion peeking past the unthinking cold that described most of its otherwise-empty mind.

Its coils twitched again, but only barely - the chill of death reasserted itself again before the motion could complete, causing the undead serpent to release its hold on the horribly disfigured insect. It skittered away on broken limbs, fluids seeping from the cracks in its chitin.

The chill of death increased rapidly, the mana permanently draped over the snake’s scales flaring, and the distant emotions were wiped away again. The snake’s mind stilled once more.

And then the punishment started.

It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, and the punishments were getting worse with every repeat. The undead serpent had difficulty concentrating - or even thinking beyond the simplest of manners - but the punishments…

It remembered those, if only barely. And they were only increasing in severity as time went on.

A sudden, powerful surge of death wiped away any semblance of resistance. It ripped and tore through the snake’s mind, will, and body, ensuring that - for at least a little while - the somewhat-resistant snake became nothing more than a puppet pulled by strings of animating mana.

The snake’s mana core churned, twisted, changed - and a small stream of life essence forcefully carved its way through the serpent’s body, ripping apart undead flesh with abandon as it dribbled towards an already-ruined tongue. The cloak of death essence that controlled the snake shifted backwards, as if carefully avoiding the touch of its opposite. Meanwhile, the undead snake convulsed in horrible agony.

Finally, the undead serpent faded, its unlife ended by forcefully-inflicted life.

Condition Met.

Core Skill - [The Endless Cycle] Interrupted.

Dungeon Core (Aspect: Death) Claiming Domain.

Applying Reanimation.

Reanimation Complete.

…before it began anew a moment later, death essence surging forward in a pulsing wave as the stream of life essence disappeared, raising the serpent from the dead once more.

When the touch of death finally receded to normal levels again, the attention of the being that controlled it receding, the undead serpent barely noticed its far-away sense of utter hatred. Didn’t really pay it any mind, because its mind was dimmed severely enough that it couldn’t.

But it was there.

Waiting.

Elara’s gauntleted hand brushed across the ruined pile of corpses, a shattered mix of giant spiders and dog-like quadrupeds, each species identifiable only by mentally combining bits and pieces; a leg here, a fang there, an eye somewhere else. Most in less than optimal condition, pulped and pulverized, rent and ruined.

The blood - and there was a lot of it to go around - was already dry, flaking off in her hand as a careful touch pried it from the stone. She stood, shaking her hand in an attempt to dislodge the bloody flakes. When that didn’t work, she concentrated, momentarily activating her looted armor’s ability. The shadow-infused gem set into its chestplate pulsed, synergizing with the armor itself, running down the metal and forcing Elara into near-full immateriality.

The flakes of blood, still caught on the edges of her gauntlet, dropped free.

Pointless, maybe. It was just dried blood, and dried blood on armor, at that. But Elara was happy to find any excuse to use the armor’s ability, as long as she didn’t strain it too far. It could break, most likely, if she used it for too long without letting it recharge.

Still, it was too enjoyable to only use when absolutely necessary. Combined with the ability to precisely control her own body that Elara had gained after swallowing the Infernal Cyclops’ mana core not so long ago, her stolen armor was a constant confirmation of her new status as a Seeker.

It was a heady thought, even if the sight of the armor sometimes provoked far darker ones - dealing with those, however, would come later. The crimes of its former owner could wait. Virtun wasn’t going anywhere; the Little Guardian, on the other hand, clearly was.

And they were clearly on the right track; after all, Elara hadn’t been the only one to notice the blue-gold spore-roots mixed within the dead spiders’ flesh. They looked a little different with their hosts dead, but close enough to be a reasonable match.

Elara leaned down again, finding something else interesting hidden among the pile of devastated bodies.

“Huh,” she said, not bothering to tamp down on her surprise, nor anything that came with it. There wasn’t any need to regulate her emotions here, even if there was a need to optimize her body itself, fighting a general malaise that had been slowly increasing ever since the group reached the edge of the Guardian Statue’s range. They had been traveling pretty far, and maybe the lack of real rest was getting to them - at least outside of the healing aura of the Guardian Statues. Elara was dealing with it in her own way, using her bodily control to fight back the encroaching weakness and exhaustion.

It was harder than normal, but she also hadn’t spent all that much time outside of a Guardian Statue’s aura since gaining her ability. She might have been using it as a crutch without noticing before.

“What do we have here?” she finally drawled, peering at her find. Caught between her fingers was a broken scale - dark as obsidian, glossy, and fascinatingly smooth beyond its surprisingly sharp edges. A snake’s scale. A bigger one than expected, even if most of the other characteristics matched.

She held it up higher, and the others shambled close, more affected by tiredness than Elara was.

“Wow. Okay. Maybe the Little Guardian isn’t so little anymore,” Erik said, squinting at the scale. His tone was light, maybe trying to make up for Rowan missing. He was still in Orken, having taken a number of survivors who chose to leave the ruins of Verdant Grove, and Elara couldn’t help but notice there was decidedly less levity in his absence.

Not that Elara really wanted that at the moment. She stifled a yawn, manually forcing adrenaline to flood her body - not too much, but enough to increase her alertness.

That alertness was likely the reason she was the first to notice the scratching, dragging sound that kept moving closer. It started light, a constant beat that she barely noticed with the others speaking beside her, but quickly became something more noticeable - especially when she raised her hand and beckoned the others to fall silent.

They did, even if her status as a Seeker was ridiculously new. The others were nothing if not professional when it came down to it; they never held her age or inexperience against her, though Elara liked to think her competence was a factor in that. Either way, the sudden silence gave her the opportunity to listen more closely.

And she found it again, this time joined by a few other sounds - a light click here, an almost inaudible squelch there. The others heard it too, reaching for the weapons at their sides and pulling them free. Erik quickly took the front, tower shield held before him, while Kala stepped backwards to string her bow in a hurry, Doran hefted his large battleaxe in both hands, and Valera began to somewhat-lethargically bounce on her toes as if ready to break into a - tired, but still blisteringly fast - sprint.

Elara, on the other hand, wasn’t as sure what to do. Eventually she decided to stay near Erik; the man seemed just as tired as everyone else, and she might be able to draw some attention if needed at a crucial moment. His defenses were strong, but not perfect. Hopefully, Elara’s reflexes - and, more importantly, her armor’s ability to phase through the occasional attack - could fill any gaps.

The light of their armor and weapons, partly sans Elara, whose weapons were dull in their lack of enchantment, and whose armor glowed a black light - which didn’t provide all that much illumination, given its color - helped to brighten the tunnel. It was enough that, when the sources of the sounds made themselves known, there was more than enough light to see by. More than enough visibility to make out the group of bedraggled monsters that came to meet them.

They were a varied bunch, unified only by a few common elements; the way that wounds stretched across their sides, or the way many of their bones lay exposed to the air, or just the way that they simply looked at the group of humans standing across from them.

With dead eyes flecked by mindless hunger.