Her blue orbs shifted to the giant black and yellow snake that was wrapped over her form, holding her arms against her body. She could bend her left one at the elbow, but that did her no good when her dagger was to her right!
She wriggled a bit, trying to push herself to roll towards the weapon, but even her legs were secured together. Trapped; she was totally trapped in place. Looking at a sleeping Sigurd made all the hope in her face drain away that he’d be able to save her, not unless she could wake him.
[Tough Hide level 12]
No! she thought, refusing. This was not going to be another rat situation!
Bending her arm, she grabbed at the snake’s body with a hand, then used her claws, trying to sink them in the snake.
[Metal Claw level 11]
[Poison Stinger level 4]
They hardly did a thing! Barely even pierced the top layer of skin. Pushing harder, she tried again, the skill leveling up to 12 in her vision. No, no, she needed to do more. All the heat in her body shifted, prepping for the spell. She even managed to suck in the tiniest breath for it, as if her cooling body somehow gave her space for it. Then the fire ignited in her hand, burning against it with the object of her focus right in front of it.
[Tough Hide level 13]
[Fireball level 22]
The snake hissed, loosening just enough for Vel to gasp in air. She slipped her right arm free, grabbing at her unsheathed dagger, but when she moved to stab the thing, its head snapped at her shoulder. Reacting, she dropped the dagger, and snatched its neck, holding it back just as it bit down, missing.
Already, she could see a vile liquid drip from its mouth, and when it hit her right shoulder, she cringed, the spit stinging her skin.
[Poison Resistance level 2]
[Poison Resistance level 3]
[Poison Resistance level 4]
This was bad. As if having her body strangled wasn’t already telling her that, but the poison from this thing made it seem far more dangerous. If that was what its saliva did, she did not want to find out what its venom actually did.
She tightened her hand around the thing’s neck, trying to buy time as it continued to force itself towards her, growing closer ever so slightly. All the while, it continued to tighten its body over hers.
[Tough Hide level 14]
[Constrict level 2]
Could I out-constrict it? Vel thought, then mentally shook her head, as it was too busy staring the thing’s beady eyes down. No, the skill this thing was using right now was constrict. Rather, it would be better to use magic again, even if it meant burning her hand.
With her right hand, she dug her claws into its skin, the neck no more easier to penetrate than the body. She used one [fireball] spell, then two, then three! Her claws began to sink in, and the snake writhed, recoiling. But she held firm.
[Metal Claw level 13]
[Poison Stinger level 5]
[Fireball level 23]
[Fireball level 24]
[Tough Hide level 15]
It loosened from around her, and Vel slipped her second arm free. Twisting about, she slammed the monster’s head against the ground, then grabbed at the dagger with her left hand. Without sparing a moment, she thrust the blade into the beast’s neck.
[Dagger Stab level 10]
The snake slipped the rest of its body free from Vel’s form, and when she ripped the dagger out, the whole thing writhed, banging into her and the ground.
[Tough Hide level 16]
Thrusting the dagger back in, she growled at it, “Retribute this, you damned serpent!”
She dragged the dagger this time, slicing up towards its jaw, then stabbed it all over again. The dagger slid through its jaw, then clinked as it hit the ground after going through the nose. Finally, the snake went limp, and Vel held it for a long moment, taking in several staggered breaths. She stared, trembling.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
When a hand touched her shoulder, she flinched, ripping the dagger out so fast that the snake’s fluids stung at her hand. Jumping away, she twisted back, then froze, gasping when she realized it was just Sigurd.
[Poison Resistance level 5]
“Holy retribution,” she wheezed out, slumping on the ground and setting her dagger aside.
“You’re telling me,” Sigurd said, raising his brow. “You just killed a shade snake.”
“A shade snake?” Vel asked, then shook her head. “When did you wake up?”
“Just now, about the time it was flailing.”
Sigurd bent over, collecting the dagger. He pulled a cloth out, to which Vel quickly grabbed, then stole the dagger from him. “Wait,” she said. “It’s got poison over it. Let me.”
“So you can deal with poison instead of me?” Sigurd asked.
“Yes.” Vel wiped the blade, and as she had suspected, felt the liquid bite her through the cloth several times. It was mild, she knew that much, so she just watched as the level raised.
[Poison Resistance level 6]
[Poison Resistance level 7]
[Poison Resistance level 8]
“Why?”
“I gained [poison resistance] from it.”
“How?” Sigurd asked.
“My nails have [poison sting], apparently.”
“Oh . . .” Sigurd said, then repeated. “Oh . . .” he slowly stepped away from her. “Is that something you can control?”
“It’s a constitution stat, so I don’t know. Maybe it’s only when I feel threatened?” she asked.
“That would make sense,” Sigurd nodded, looking no more eased. “Good to know you produce poison now.”
“It’s probably totally useless. I got it from the dire hornets.”
“Scratch me.”
Vel paused, lowering the cloth. Nothing but another [poison resistance] level to snap her out of it. “Excuse me?”
“Scratch me, then. Let’s test this theory of yours.”
“How would we know it worked?” Vel asked.
“What level is [poison stinger] right now?”
“Five.”
“Then you’ll know. Levels are pretty much automatic at rank one up to level ten.”
Stepping forward, Vel hesitated, then ran two metal nails carefully over the back of Sigurd’s hand. Nothing. She shook his head.
“It’s a passive skill, then,” Sigurd said, and Vel nodded.
She sheathed her dagger, then tied it back to her waterskin, tossing it over her shoulder. Meanwhile, Sigurd examined the snake.
“Breakfast?” he asked, pointing at the serpent.
“Breakfast?” Vel questioned.
“You’re very good at that, repeating words.”
“I pray━no, hope,” Vel said, not knowing who to even pray to anymore, “that one of these days, you’re lying about eating some of these things. How do we get around the poison?”
“That’s relatively easy. Don’t eat any of the meat where it’s produced. Pull your dagger back out.”
“I just cleaned it . . .” Vel grumbled, but did so. “Seriously, who taught you how to skin and cook all these things?”
“A guy.”
Sitting next to the snake, Velmira rolled her eyes, then proceeded to cut the snake as instructed. It wasn’t anywhere close as bad as the rat was, but she still had to refrain from gagging several times. The rat was grimy, the snake, however, was slimy. Hardly any better. At least levels were a decent reward and the fried meat that came after.
[Dagger Slash level 32]
[Dagger Stab level 16]
[Fireball level 25]
[Fireball level 26]
After burning the pan to clean it up, Sigurd said, “We’re down to our last sips of water, so we have to get out of the dungeon today.”
Vel nodded, following after him as they left their resting area, continuing down the mine. “How much further?” she asked.
“This mine is supposed to lead straight out to the exit, assuming nothing has changed it in that time, or gods forbid, it’s been caved in.”
“Caved in!” Vel exclaimed, “Why didn’t you tell me that was a possibility before!”
“Because you already worry too much, and I really need to get you someplace safe to heal,” Sigurd said. “We could either spend days traveling back out and to Lamone if there is a cave in, or you can level [rock throw] and do something about the cave in.”
“Depending on how bad it is,” Vel said, pulling at her braid. “The further we get in here, the more I think that this was a bad idea. We could have snuck around Lamone to come in on the other side, or, or . . .”
“Or gotten sniffed out by dogs, seen by a lookout, been attacked by more dire hornets and created an entire scene,” Sigurd countered. “Velmira, there were a dozen more ways we could have drawn attention from staying above ground. At least here, they can’t find you. The likelihood they even think you’d come this way is basically nil. They wouldn’t assume you’re traveling with me.”
“Not true,” Vel snipped. “They were using tracking spells on you earlier before I gave you that [allied boon of protection].”
Sigurd sighed. “A hunter in a forest on his way back from a common place of trading━Lamone━is not so strange. More likely they were looking for me to get my report on Loverboy, or to see if I was even alive anymore.”
Vel frowned, but conceded. He had a point. “So they either think you forgot to report back, or that Edard killed you?”
“Most likely,” Sigurd nodded, then pointed. “There, look. Problem solved.”
Squinting, Vel could see the slightest sliver of light leaking into the dank mine from ahead. Just that much sparked something within her, and she couldn’t help the run she jolted into. They were so close! Edard could be ahead, needing her, or at least, she could maybe find clues on where he went from the healer in Lamone. Anything! She just needed anything to know that she was actually getting closer to him!
“Vel! Slow down!” Sigurd called, his steps heavy behind her, but she didn’t listen. No, she couldn’t, not with that ever growing light ahead. Every stride was a pace closer to Edard, driven by every beat of her racing heart and the quick thrum of her heavy breaths.
The light grew, taunting her the closer she got. Vel envisioned its light dousing her, an image she thought would become a realization when the mine widened. Instead, her next step hit the air, and a yelp escaped her lungs. Stomach dropping and arms flailing, she gasped at the ground below, but not because of the ground itself, but rather what crawled over it. Spiders. Dozens of them.
A strong hand grabbed the back of her jerkin, yanking her away from the ledge that led into the wide cavern. Velmira staggered into Sigurd, even pushing herself into his sturdy frame, scrambling away from the sight of the black beasts that were the size of dogs.
“S-spiders!” she gasped out, clutching the hunter’s shirt. Several paces from the edge, she couldn’t see the smaller, black spiders, but towards the center of the massive web decorated cavern was one gigantic, bulbous crimson eight-legged monstrosity. It lifted its head, eight black eyes shining as Vel swore she saw hers and Sigurd’s reflections across them.
Holy Retribution!
“Not just any spiders,” Sigurd said, pulling Vel further back. “That’s a blood spider.”
