Soulless Soul

Chapter 72: The Wounded Spider

[HP: 4/5]

[ARMOR: 4/5]

Sky’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the glowing runes. His dull forearms and side ache as a reminder of the damage he had sustained and that he’s gotten one step closer to being completely vulnerable.

So many times Sky had fun of the dramatic rolls that Awakened monsters make during battles. Especially in his old videos as a dungeon spectator when he used to enjoy watching higher ranked Awakened warriors throw themselves ungracefully across the dirt during high-tier raids. He had laughed at their antics, thinking it was completely disgraceful, ineffective, and overly showy. Sky had believed that good footwork and positioning should have been enough to fend off any beast that came charging at him.

I take it back.

Sky spat on the ground, a gloob of metallic tasting black goo landing with a wet plop on the damp earth. There was no room for pride during a fight when a multi-ton spider was trying to cave your ribs in.

Slowly, Sky pushed himself up onto one knee, his boots sliding on the wet ground as he balanced on one leg, eyes never leaving the massive creature before him. The dull tension in his muscles was quickly overcome by the rush of adrenaline in his veins, numbing the pain and sharpening his senses to a razor’s edge.

Rolling is an essential part of any good respectable monster fighting technique. That’s what many lower ranked adventurers will agree on with a firm nod of their head as they recount the blood soaked adventures of their past. When attacked, it is a logical decision to remove yourself from the attackers path of attack. Especially when said strike carries the weight and fury of a steel shield being wrenched from your grip by a powerful blow.

His expression turned grim as he finally locked eyes on the beast before him, the corners of his mouth twitching in irritation as a heavy sense of annoyance washed over him. The previous feeling of dark humor quickly vanished from his senses, replaced with the cold air of a survivor that has stared down death far too many times for his liking.

The Savage Beast was fully uncovered. The massive creature had finally pushed itself free of the thick wall of mud that had previously pinned it down, it’s sheer weight pushing down into the mushy earth as it sank into the ground with a deep groan.

It stood over him now, a horrific shadow looming over his small frame and blocking out the dim, grey light that filtered down from the hight ceiling of the labyrinth. The only illumination that reached the floor was the sweltering smell of sulfur and rotting earth that hung in the air. A few small, dark eyes peered down at him, filled with nothing but rage, hunger, and an almost predatory intent. Several glossy black eyes lined the front of the beast’s rounded head, their unnatural hue void of any kindness, humanity, or mercy. It saw him as nothing more then a stray meal that had wandered too close to its kin.

A horrible, rasping screech echoed from the creature’s maw, it’s sound sharp enough to send a jolt of pain up Sky’s spine. It’s deep reverberation echoed off the walls of the narrow passageway, growing louder and louder until it almost felt as if his eardrums would burst. Sky winced, his teeth grinding together as the vibrations sent a dull throb up and down his jaw.

It might be one of the Savage Beasts that he had once watched from a distance. During their long treck up through the planes, he had seen these creatures skitter through the trenches below from high perches, studying them as he went. He had analyzed them as numbers, as a statistic that he had to avoid. And now one of those abstract concepts had decided to hunt him instead. A single one of those distant figures now stood before him, less then ten meters away, dripping dark venom onto the muddy earth.

It stood almost three meters tall, it’s squat frame encased in thick, hardened plating that resembled ancient stone. Overlapping plates of rough rock covered it’s body, hiding it’s limbs from view, save for the occasional glimpse of a joint. It’s eight limbs dragged across the muddy ground, it’s fangs clicking together in an ominous display of predatory intent. It’s sound was like two large, rusty shears snapping together, threatening to cut through anything that got too close. Sky’s eyes narrowed behind his hood, studying the few visible details of the beast’s movements. The thick pressure of it’s spiritual presence pressed down on him from a distance, an aggressive territorial aura.

"Why the hell aren’t you with the rest of your buddies, you damn Savage Beast?!"

Sky muttered, his words coming out in a mix of irritation and annoyance. He knew that a manifestation of the dungeon’s malice would hardly speak with him, so he didn’t really expect an answer. It was just a way to let out the tight tension that had built in his chest, to voice the frustration that itched at his fingers. It meant nothing more then a simple act of defiance, a statement that he wouldn’t let it’s imposing presence stop him. Because now that he had a good look at the creature, Sky immediately understood the situation at hand. The initial wave of panic was quickly washed away, replaced by his normal, calculating demeanor.

This Savage Beast wasn’t in such good condition.

It wasn’t the pristine, deadly monster that he had thought it to be. Up close, the details of the previous fight were far more obvious then they had been in the flickering shadows of the explosion. Two of it’s legs were in bad condition, a few of them bent in odd angles as if they had been crushed in some sort of fight. Some were completely broken, dangling limply from it’s frame as it hobbled forward, dragging itself across the blackened mud. It’s right side was practically unusable, the other limbs putting all of their weight into supporting it’s bulk.

Deep, jagged fissures ran up it’s thick carapace, the viscous, like azure blood seeping down it’s legs and pooling on the muddy earth below. It’s blood glowed faintly as it hit the still water of the pool, it’s substance sizzling with a strange, energy. The creature was clearly loosing energy with each passing second, it’s pressure fluctuating wildly with it’s injuries.

And most importantly- It was missing a limbor two.

It’s entire front right limb was missing from it’s shoulder, the torn muscle exposed and pulsing with a sickly rhythm. The dark substance of the beast’s blood and bile spurted from the wound, it’s foul scent wafting into the air. Sky’s lips curled into a smirk as he watched the beast stagger forward, it’s injured form swaying from side to side.

So you’re in bad condition. You’re a cast off, a reject from the pack that got chewed up and spat out by something far worse deep in the trenches.

A dangerous thought bloomed in his mind, it’s roots twisting through the normal, instinctual urge to run. The sensation was strange, his usual survival instincts twisting into something more predatory and aggressive. If this creature was in this bad of condition, running would be more dangerous then standing and meeting it’s charge. Perhaps even more painful.

Then maybe... Sky’s grip tightened around the Blood Blade, it’s crimson energy flaring to life as it responded to his intent. It’s jagged edge hissed with a deeper, resonating sound that cut through the thick, grey fog. His clone’s shifted from their defensive stance, the translucent figures adopting a more offensive posture. Their eyes burned with the same intent as his own, twin blades of dark energy flickering at their sides.

...this isn’t as bad as it looks.

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