The First Circle was, understandably, a breeze to get through. The perks of being impervious to the attacks of Bronze or Squall Ranked creatures were just plain unfair. But I wasn’t one to complain.
I ca upon a surprising number of Bilespitters on the surface. Their six-legged fras had continued to remind of the cub, who was probably still back in my room. I’d requested we bring him to the Caverns back when we were first making our way down, but the Chieftain hadn’t allowed it. Though, he did assure it would be perfectly safe inside my quarters.
That said, the Bilespitters were just one of the many types of beasts I had to...’fight’. Alongside the acid-spitting lizards, I also found another variant of Toad, this one wreathed in darkness rather than fire, and quite similar to it, I was also ambushed by several darkness-wielding spiders, that seed to love hiding inside the dunes and springing onto the mont I passed by them.
They were all...easy, to put it bluntly.
But, the sa couldn’t be said for the beast that had appeared before now. Though only a Squall Class, the annoying bastard was turning out to be more of a challenge to kill than I was willing to admit.
My upturned gaze narrowed in annoyance at the re sight of its na.
[Blacksand Wind-Thrasher]
It was my first ti dealing with an airborne beast. The bird looked like a mix between a raven and a pigeon, but it sohow embodied each of the two birds most irritating traits. Its feathers were a mottled black and grey, ruffled in places, the wings broad but oddly stiff. The eyes---wide, unfocused, unblinking---resembled a pigeon’s in both shape and expression. The long, curved beak made a constant, grating contrast to its sharp, aerodynamic tail feathers, while the body had that awkward mix: pigeon bulk with raven aerodynamics. And of course, it squawked incessantly, a sound that made want to stab my own ears.
But the kicker, was that the thing was a Wind-Elent beast. And coward that it was, the bird continued to rain down wind elent attacks at from the safety of the skies.
I might have been able to reach it if I used a full-power Mana-channel to jump, but as it were...channeling just so happened to be off limits.
The lucky bastard.
So I was stuck. Left with no choice but to endure its attacks, both physical and auditory, until it either tired and gave up, or made a mistake and flew low enough for to swat it out of the sky.
Unfortunately, none of those two things seed to be happening.
Though annoying, there did happen to be a ’bright side’. Wind-elent beast, ant a Wind elent Resistance Skill, and it was already well on its way to being maxed out by just this one beast’s efforts.
The skill ticked up with every attack I endured. The bird threw slashes of wind, spheres, columns, virtually every shape one might conjure up in a hypothetical, but the end result was always the sa. Increases to my Wind Resistance.
And yet...the whole thing felt...lackluster..?
I wasn’t sure how best to describe it, until a single word ca to the forefront of my mind.
Boredom.
I was bored. This...was boring.
But why was it boring? My body was engaged. My Gift was active. Every strike, every jet of wind I endured made stronger---brought closer to my ultimate goal---and yet...my mind...wanted more. Why?
What I’m doing is logical, optimal, safe, and will net excellent gains in the near future... and yet... it is... undesirable.
I continued to walk across the dunes, my main mind lost in thought, second mind handling the terrain and the accursed bird above. Every attack it threw at was an injury that might have incapacitated anyone else---the slashes cutting up, the columns breaking bones, the spheres rupturing flesh---but the more I endured, the less effective they beca, until another full hour of walking, thinking, and enduring later...
[The Skill [Wind Resistance IX] has been upgraded to [Wind Resistance X].]
The attacks of molded wind did nothing now. The bird’s attacks glanced off just like physical ones.
And yet, the beast continued to send attacks my way.
How it had the Mana Pool to sustain such frequent attacks for so long, I hadn’t the slightest clue. But the attacks served no purpose to now. I was done enduring this boredom for the sake of [Wind Resistance]
The beast very clearly had a bolt loose sowhere in the machinery of its brain. It would be easy to fool.
When the next sphere of wind shot towards , I moved quickly, deliberately, putting my face right in its path, and it exploded in my face.
Of course, the attack did zero damage, but there was such a thing as acting.
I roared in feigned pain, as I jumped back from the impact, sending myself sprawling into the ground as if the beast’s relentless attacks and pursuit had finally broken through my ’thinning’ defenses.
I lay there, completely motionless, breath held in, eyes unfocused and wide---my best attempt at playing dead.
And sure enough, the attacks stopped, and the heavy flaps of the thrasher’s wings finally grew closer.
I almost gulped in anticipation, but I held back the urge, or my little plan just might fail. The bird was dumb, yes, dumber than anything else I’d t, but there limits to idiocy. Prey playing dead was sothing predators often ca upon. It was unlikely that it’d still believe dead if I happened to actually swallow.
So I waited, like the spiders in the black sand, body prid with strength rather than darkness.
Flap. Flap. Flap.
Squuuaaawk!
THUD.
It landed right beside , head turning sideways as it bent low, pigeon eye coming down to focus right above my face.
I gave it a mont. A mont to give it satisfaction. And then I took it all away.
My hand shot up and caught the bird by the neck in a flash. My grip tightened as I held the beast in place, and I stood up, finally staring the little fucker right back in its eyes, and I saw what I had yearned so long to see.
Fear.
The bird’s feathers shook, wings flapping as it tried to take off, so I tightened my grip further, then, still holding it by its unsightly neck, slamd it right back down to the ground. The bird croaked, its throat too constricted to voice out its usual squawks.
I enjoyed what followed.
Slam after slam into the ground. Every ounce of frustration, of annoyance and anger, paid back in full.
By the ti the anger faded, and satisfaction flooded , I realized the beast...was long dead, its skull had split open at so point during my repeated slams, and brain matter painted the dunes of black we stood upon. I took in the scene, realizing that unlike last ti, when I’d tortured that boar and felt empty, this ti, I felt...oddly at peace.
Perhaps it was because this beast had annoyed for hours on end. It had been a coward. It had been dumb. Every physical feature irritating, from its fat head, to its grating squawk, it had earned every ounce of hate. But the boar had been different, sohow. It had severed both my legs, and it had been one of the most painful injuries I’d faced up until that point, and that had angered . But the boar, had only been defending itself, and its brethren. And I had punished it for that.
"Heh," I let out a short laugh, thinking out loud "I’m actually deliberating the reasoning behind why revenge might feel good or not..."
It was a freeing thought.
I let go of my firm grip on the bird’s neck, letting its corpse drop into the sands.
I hefted my axe with a small grunt, carved out the beast’s core and popped the shard right into my mouth The taste was tallic, bland, entirely forgettable, and the 100 EXP? Hardly worth a thought.
I straightened, scanning the horizon, searching for the black pillar of light to ascertain direction. But I saw sothing different now.
A gargantuan, black sandstorm, eclipsing the horizon, and moving right towards with considerable speed. It was a sight to behold its sheer size, but that long mont’s observation only amplified the urgency bubbling up inside . The storm was moving fast. Fast enough to be at my feet in less than a minute.
My head swiveled back around, desperately searching the horizon behind for the pillar of black light, but I found nothing.
I gulped in realization.
The pillar was sowhere to my front, long hidden by the wall of sand that now hurtled towards .
It appeared I was about to get very lost. And there was going to be nothing I could do about it.
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