The centipede is crushed into the stone floor of the cavern. Deep cracks appear on its carapace after the kinetic force rips through its body, shattering the hard outer skeleton.
I’m stunned.
That was one fearsome strike! If I was hit by that I’d be squashed into a pancake, no doubt about it.
Scary!
The centipede doesn’t seem to have fared much better. It twitches on the ground, barely moving. The hound takes a step forward, a murderous glint its eye. Almost as if its thinking, ‘Take that you bug, how dare you threaten my greatness!’
Before it can deal the finishing blow, sizzling acid streaks through the air and sprays down the hound’s left flank, burning into its flesh.
Oops… Hehehehehe.
Sorry to interrupt your proud moment there, hound, but I don’t want this battle to end just yet.
Of course, one blast of acid isn’t enough to finish off a hound, but the same is also true for the centipedes.
The Claw Centipede I hit earlier has now recovered enough to join the fray. It advances cautiously to reinforce its two unharmed brethren against the two healthy hounds.
This is the critical moment. With one centipede essentially down for the count but matched against one fresh and one wounded hound, the battle has become quite even.
Though the centipedes seem a little unwilling to proceed with the fight. They continue to posture aggressively but don’t actively make any moves to attack.
The hound I injured is mildly damaged by my acid but not badly enough to keep it out of the fight. Disregarding the source of the mystery attack it returns to the aid of its allies in fending off the swarming assailants.
At that moment.
Splash!
Another fierce arc of acid is launched through the air onto the wounded hound. It howls miserably as the burning liquid strikes it once again, rolling and scrabbling at the rocks as it desperately tries to free itself from the goop.
A chance! At this moment the three living centipedes rush forward, hundreds of tiny legs skittering so fast the creatures almost seem to flow over the ground. Distracted momentarily, the hounds respond a bit too late, and one is quickly seized in the claws of an advancing centipede.
Snarling furiously, the hound tosses its head trying to dislodge the attacker before swinging its vicious tail around to slam the centipede away. Too late however, as another centipede has taken advantage of the moment and struck down with its poison stinger!
In the meantime, I have taken the chance to manoeuvre off the roof and down the wall, cautiously approaching the outskirts of the fight.
The poisoned hound howls in anger and throws itself at its attacker, striking with fierce claws and fangs. When another centipede approaches from the side, it is brutally slapped away with a swipe of the tail.
With one hound possibly fatally poisoned and other badly burned, the hounds are very much the worse for wear. Of the four centipedes, one is hanging on by a thread and the other three are all injured to some extent.
There isn’t a single pause in the carnage, and the poisoned hound, seeming to sense its demise, pushes further into the fray. Emboldened, the remaining hounds press forward on the attack.
[You have defeated a Level 3 Claw Centipede.]
[You have gained XP.]
After a few quick chomps with the mandibles the almost dead centipede is finished, and I quietly drag the carcass away to a secluded fold in the rock nearby.
The battle is really reaching a climax now on the other side.
The three remaining centipedes are giving their all to survive, lashing with their poisoned spikes over and over again, trying to ward off the desperate hounds.
The poisoned hound is labouring hard now, barely able to put up any kind of fight as the toxin takes its toll.
The final hound, suffering from claw marks and several bites, stumbles at a critical moment, allowing a centipede to catch it in the shoulder with the spike, sealing its fate.
The enraged victim launches itself into the centipedes, suffering bites and claw attacks. Enduring the pain, the hound pours all its momentum into a massive swipe of the tail, catching two centipedes and sending them slamming into the rock walls.
The stunned creatures can barely move after the incredible force has shattered their legs and deeply cracked their carapace in many places.
All that is left now is one wounded centipede and the burned hound. Both are severely injured, barely able to put up a fight. They circle each other, watching and waiting for an opening.
The hound is limping, its forelegs badly bitten. The centipede isn’t much better. Several of its legs are crushed, hindering its mobility.
Almost as if a hidden start gun has gone off, the two monsters converge, latching onto each other. The centipede has gripped the hound by the throat, the hound is crunching down just behind the centipede’s head!
Who will hold on?
It turns out neither, as both creatures gradually collapse, completely spent, unable to continue the fight.
Emerging from the shadows, I behold a scene of ridiculous carnage. The three hounds have collapsed, exhausted and on the verge of death. Their opponents, the centipedes, are similarly disabled, unable to defend themselves.
Hmm. Hehe… hehehe… Huhu-hahahahaaaa!
FOOLS! You were dancing in the grip of my mandibles all along!
Even if I beheld the entire process with my own eyes, I still cannot quite comprehend exactly how well this has all worked out for me. All of these creatures are on a sliver of Health. Effectively 1 HP. This is an unprecedented harvest of XP and Biomass!
It’s a little interesting how rapidly a person’s attitude can change, isn’t it? Not too long ago I was an average person. I lived in a normal society and wouldn’t consider harming another being. I’d never even been in a proper fight during my past life.
And yet, after being here for a few days I have already become accustomed to battles just like this. Being forced to fight and take the life of your own food quickly changes one’s attitude on the sanctity of life…
Perhaps in my mind I justify it by saying they aren’t people but monsters. Except, isn’t that what I am myself? Time to worry about that later! I need to secure the last hit on these hounds before the poison steals my XP.
Moving efficiently, I pass from hound to hound, using my mandibles to apply Bite attacks until the familiar and soothing refrain of Gandalf rings in my mind.
[You have defeated a Level 4 Lupus Draco Cub.]
[You have defeated a Level 3 Lupus Draco Cub.]
[You have defeated a Level 4 Lupus Draco Cub.]
[You have gained XP.]
And then I move onto the remaining centipedes. Sadly, one of them was unable to hold on to life and has already succumbed to its wounds, but the others are still kicking.
[You have defeated a Level 2 Claw Centipede.]
[You have defeated a Level 3 Claw Centipede.]
[You have gained XP.]
[You have reached Level 5. One Skill Point awarded.]
[You have reached the Level cap. Evolution menu available.]
Whaaaat! Gandalf, is it true? I can evolve!
No, Anthony! Don’t get distracted. No matter how much you love the idea of evolving, you have to secure this Biomass before anything happens. With all of these bodies just lying about, any creature is going to want a slice of the pie.
At this moment my antennae detect a trembling vibration shuddering through the air.
I immediately become still.
There, again! Faintly, a thudding impact is carried through the tunnel, originating farther up, towards the first cavern.
Wait… No, no, not now. Not like this. It can’t be now!