Chapter 60: The Blood Tainted
Heavy steel doors creaked open, revealing a cavernous chamber much more befitting of the cave they were supposed to be in. From the high ceiling, which was easily more than 40 tres high, a pillar of water poured through a hole.
It crashed down in a thunderous waterfall, filling a basin down beneath. Half of the chamber alone was taken up by this basin and the water that filled it, with so spatterings of rocks to act as platford throughout the caverns lake.
Forests, just like the ones they had travelled through to get to this chamber, lined the western and eastern sides of the lake. From a quick look, there were no signs of Living Trees within the lines of these forests, instead a more twisted entity took their place.
Humanoid statues made of pure wood were dotted throughout the chamber. Their bodies twisted in tortured poses of agony and desperation. It was clear that their last few monts of existence, was that of tornt.
Wood had replaced their flesh, branches sprouted from their head as they were living plants to their core. When the doors slamd closed behind the party, all of the heads of these tortured statues turned in sync.
The sound of their wooden necks creaking and cracking filled the room, as the immovable material was forced to move and bend in ways that were anything but natural.
Lifeless, unblinking eyes stared at the party as they slowly moved into the chamber and towards the boss who sat on the opposite side of the lake. Even with the distance, he was impossible to miss.
A towering Treant sat on a stone throne, like a living tree that had sprouted arms and legs, attempting to replicate the form of a human. Perhaps that was the reason for his twisted, wooden victims.
If he stood, he would have been over 15 tres tall, making them seem like ants in comparison to them.
When he spoke to them, his voice didn’t co from his body. Instead it was as if the entire forest was speaking to them, each tree shaking and the wind blowing through their boughs carried his rumbling and imposing voice.
"YOU DARE TO FACE FAHVEN BU’UL THE BLOOD TAINTED? YOUR ROTTEN AT WILL FEED THE ROOTS OF MY KIN."
The strear in charge smirked at the introduction. As soone who had beaten the boss multiple tis now, such an intimidation tactic rely sounded like insecure posturing. He imdiately started to bark orders, spreading their group out and ordering particular individuals to take certain positions far from the group on either side. These individuals included both Vestra and Belladonna, who did as they were told.
Belladonna was confused by the choices, as the others that had been spread out were mostly spellcasters or other ranged users. But then again, there was so kinds of swordsman in the scattered cluster on the other side, so there must have been so reason for it.
Even if he was a total asshole, it was undeniable that he knew the boss better, so it was just better to just grit her teeth and play along.
Fahven Bu’ul stayed seated on his throne as the wooden servants, known as Woad’s, staggered forwards on stiff legs. Their hands growing into wooden swords, spears, spikes and claws - which unfortunately don’t start with s but they were there too - all of which they were very eager to use against the gathered groups.
Spells were quickly cast and Belladonna’s fists soon found purchase within the twisted, agonised wooden faces of the Woads. With every punch she sent splinters flying, dropping the Woad’s like flies.
It was even easier than killing the Baboons, which is why it ate at the back of her mind so much. It was far too easy. Even if all of these Woad’s attacked their group at once, they were so easy to chop down and destroy, even for the less talented of their group, that there was little chance of being overwheld.
So why had she been sent out here? If it wasn’t to attracted attention from the Woad’s, then what could it be?
When the Woad’s numbers reduced down to the single digits, Fahven Bu’ul finally made a move of his own.
His hands raised from the armrests of the throne, before he thrust them down towards the ground. His fingers rapidly elongated, turning into twisting and writhing roots that plunged deep into the earth.
A second later, Belladonna heard a scream from across the boss arena, as she whipped her head around just in ti to see Vestra collapse to the ground. A wooden spike had erupted from the ground and speared through Vestra’s leg.
As she laid on the ground, the flesh around her fresh wound began to warp from living flesh into rigid wood. The wooden infection rapidly spread across her body, transforming even her clothes, and leaving her frozen in a wooden prison, eternally reaching out towards Belladonna for help.
More spikes burst from the earth around the individuals that had been sent away from the group, as Belladonna finally understood their purpose. They were sacrifices, so that the rest of the group could succeed.
They hadn’t been chosen at random either. Throughout the dungeon their performance had been monitored, and those deed the worst either in terms of skill or class had been thrown to the wolves.
The worst part was, such a strategy wasn’t even necessary. It was possible to defend against the attack with preparation or the right defensive tactics, but it was more effort. This was easy.
Belladonna weaved through the spikes that were erupting through the earth around her. They were moving so fast that even with her Lightning infusion, she was barely moving out of their way. They whistled past her face, forcing her to twist her body to not get speared through the gut or in the arm.
But that was all for nought, when one didn’t even bother launching upwards. A spike, no more than an inch in height, poked up through the ground right underneath her foot. It pierced through her shoe and stabbed into her foot, before the transformation began.
Her leg was already becoming stiff and solid by the ti she had figured out what had happened.
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