Monarch of the Calamity Beast

Chapter 4 Traces of Acid and Blood

Kaelen stopped walking. He leaned his shoulder against a fractured stone pillar, ignoring the way the rough surface snagged his shirt, and unlaced his left boot. He tipped it over. A handful of crystalline dust spilled out, catching the pale violet light of the sky before settling into the dirt.

He knocked the heel against the pillar to clear the rest, slid his foot back in, and tied the laces tightly. The Wasteland of Echoes offered nothing but silence and sharp edges. The ground was composed of shattered Aether-glass that ground down into a fine, abrasive powder underfoot. It got into his clothes, his hair, the corners of his eyes.

He wiped a layer of the grit from his forehead with the back of his hand. His knuckles were bruised, the skin split and crusted with dried blood. The black veins threading beneath his wrists pulsed with a slow, heavy thrum. He stared at his hands for a long moment. He tried to pick at a flake of dark blood under his thumbnail, but his fingers were stiff. The slaughter at Eldermire Village was a few days behind him, but the smell of copper and woodsmoke was stuck deep in his sinuses.

He dropped his hands to his sides and kept walking.

"Dragging your feet, boy," Malakor said. The entity's voice did not come from the air. It vibrated at the base of Kaelen's skull, cold and flat like stone grinding against stone. "It sounds like regret. Are we mourning the cattle?"

Kaelen kept his eyes on the horizon. He swallowed, his throat dry, and ran his tongue over his cracked lips. He didn't answer. Arguing with the shadow in his chest was a waste of breath. Instead, he raised a hand and swiped a finger through the stagnant air. Black mist bled from his fingertips, forming crude, jagged letters that hung in the space before him.

[Essence Resonance Status]

[Name: Kaelen Thorne]

[Race: Human (Void Assimilated - 12%)]

[Level: 5]

[Void Essence: 340/1000]

Twelve percent. He looked away from the number. The Aether Cores he had ripped from the Scythe-tail Prowlers had pushed the void deeper into his marrow. He noticed the changes in quiet moments. The toxic atmospheric fog that hung over the wasteland no longer made his eyes water. He breathed the heavy, polluted air without his lungs seizing. He could smell the decay of a carcass miles away, catching the scent on shifts in the wind.

He focused on the lingering stat points he had held in reserve. He pushed the remaining four points into Endurance.

He barely had time to brace himself. A deep, agonizing cramp seized his femurs. Kaelen dropped to one knee, driving his fingers into the crystal dirt. He squeezed his eyes shut. Deep inside his chest, his ribs popped and shifted, the bone density compacting forcibly. He bit down on his lower lip to keep from shouting, tasting fresh blood. A cold sweat broke out across his neck. The process felt like someone tightening iron bands around his skeleton.

He stayed there for a minute after the pain receded, just breathing through his nose. He spat a mouthful of bloody saliva onto the ground and wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

Before he could stand, a vibration shivered through the earth, traveling up through the dirt into his kneeling legs. It wasn't the rhythmic thud of footsteps. It was a heavy, continuous scraping sound, accompanied by a wet, bubbling hiss.

Kaelen opened his eyes.

Fifty meters ahead, a massive shape pulled itself over a ridge of jagged crystal. It moved low to the ground, its bulk shifting awkwardly over six thick, muscular legs. It looked vaguely like a crocodile, but its lower jaw was split straight down the middle, the dual mandibles clicking together in a restless rhythm. Translucent spikes lined its spine, dripping a thick green fluid. Where the drops hit the ground, the dirt violently hissed, sending up plumes of white steam.

[System Warning: Calamity Beast Detected]

[Species: Venom-spine Basilisk - Mid-Tier Threat]

[Affinity: Corrosion / Aether Poison]

"Try not to die here," Malakor muttered, the voice retreating to the darkest corner of Kaelen's mind.

The beast stopped. Six compound eyes, dull and yellow like bruised fat, locked onto Kaelen. It opened its split jaw, strings of acidic saliva stretching between the mandibles, and let out a sound like tearing sheet metal.

It lunged. For something the size of a wagon, it covered the ground with terrifying speed. Its claws tore deep gouges in the earth, kicking up a cloud of glass dust.

Kaelen pushed himself off his knee. He didn't draw a weapon. He didn't have one. He drove his focus down into his boots, pulling the heavy, dark essence from his core.

Shadow Step.

The world vanished into a brief, suffocating darkness. The sensory deprivation lasted only a fraction of a second, but it always left him slightly dizzy. He reappeared fifteen feet in the air, directly above the charging Basilisk. The creature bit down hard on the empty space where Kaelen had just been, its heavy jaws snapping shut with a concussive crack.

Gravity took hold of Kaelen. He channeled the void into his right fist, the black mist swarming over his knuckles until it swallowed the ambient light. He fell toward the beast's armored skull and drove his fist downward, aiming for the cluster of yellow eyes.

The impact jarred Kaelen's shoulder all the way up to his neck. His fist punched through the thick ocular fluid with a wet pop. A geyser of black blood and hot, caustic venom sprayed upward, coating Kaelen's chest and the side of his face.

The Basilisk thrashed violently, unleashing a gargled shriek. Kaelen tried to push off the beast's skull to gain distance, but his boots slipped on the slick scales.

The monster whipped its massive tail upward.

Kaelen saw the blur of movement, but he was in the air with nothing to anchor him. The heavy, spiked appendage slammed squarely into his left side.

The sound of his own ribs snapping was loud in his ears. The blunt force knocked the air completely out of his lungs, launching him backward. He hit the ground hard, tumbling over the sharp crystal dirt before crashing into the base of a ruined wall.

He lay there for a second, his vision swimming with gray spots. His chest felt hollow. He tried to inhale, but his diaphragm spasmed, refusing to work. Panic flared briefly before a shallow, ragged breath finally hitched in his throat.

He coughed, and a thick stream of dark blood spilled over his chin.

Green slime clung to his torn shirt, slowly eating through the fabric and burning the skin beneath. He forced himself to sit up, pressing a hand against his left side. His fingers traced the unnatural dip where his ribs were broken.

"Sloppy," Malakor noted quietly.

Kaelen ground his teeth. From the raw, bleeding edges of his injury, the void began to seep out. The black mist acted as invasive sutures, burrowing into his torn muscle. It violently pulled the fractured bone ends back together. Kaelen grabbed a handful of dirt, squeezing it until his knuckles turned white, enduring the brutal, itching burn of his own regeneration.

The Basilisk was tearing up the ground in a blind frenzy, its ruined eye socket leaking black fluid. It stopped thrashing and swung its heavy head toward Kaelen, tracking him by the sound of his ragged breathing. The beast reared back, its throat swelling significantly.

It unleashed a sweeping torrent of concentrated acid.

The deluge washed over the crystal wasteland between them, melting the rocks into pools of bubbling sludge. A dense curtain of toxic white steam rose instantly, obscuring the beast.

Kaelen pushed himself to his feet. He felt heavy, exhausted, but the void in his chest churned, demanding to be fed. He raised his right hand. He pulled the remaining essence from his core, forcing it out through his palm. The mist elongated, hardening into a sheer, jagged blade of pure darkness. It had no weight, but the air around it warped.

He didn't wait for the steam to clear. He stepped forward, breaking into a heavy sprint directly into the boiling fog.

The heat was immediate and oppressive. Droplets of residual acid splashed against his forearms and cheeks. He felt the top layer of his skin blister and slough off, exposing raw, stinging tissue, but he didn't stop. He used the sharp, foul scent of the beast's blood to guide him.

The Basilisk sensed his approach. Through the steam, Kaelen saw the massive silhouette turn, its jaws opening wide to spray another point-blank volley.

Kaelen triggered Shadow Step a second time.

He reappeared low to the ground, sliding through the mud and acid just underneath the creature's unhinged jaw. He looked up at the pale, unarmored flesh of its throat.

He planted his back foot, gripping the void blade with both hands, and drove it upward.

The shadow edge met no resistance. It sliced cleanly through the thick hide, sinking deep into the muscle. Kaelen let out a strained grunt as he pushed forward, dragging the blade down the length of the creature's underbelly.

Hot, heavy viscera spilled out instantly. The smell of bile and half-digested rot washed over Kaelen. He scrambled out from under the beast as its massive body locked up. The Basilisk let out a pathetic, bubbling croak, its legs giving out. It collapsed into the mud, sending a wave of foul sludge washing over Kaelen's boots.

The void blade dissolved back into mist, retreating into Kaelen's palm.

He stood there, his chest heaving, listening to the hissing of the acid pools. His arms were covered in superficial burns, the skin bright red and weeping. He wiped sweat from his eyes, leaving a smear of dark blood across his forehead.

He walked over to the slain beast. The heat radiating from the open chest cavity was intense. Kaelen reached in with both bare hands, ignoring the slick, burning fluids. He dug past shattered ribs and heavy lungs, his fingers searching blindly until they brushed against something hard and angular.

He pulled it free.

The Aether Core was the size of a large apple, glowing with a sickly emerald light. It vibrated slightly in his palm.

He crushed it.

The crystal shattered, but the fragments didn't fall. They liquefied into bright light and immediately absorbed into the cuts on his hand. A wave of freezing pressure rushed up Kaelen's arm, followed by a burning heat that settled deep in his gut. He gagged, a metallic taste flooding his mouth.

[Aether Core Assimilation Successful]

[Void Essence: +600]

[Level Up!]

[Level: 6]

[Passive Skill Acquired: Corrosive Blood (Level 1) - External wounds will emit low-level Aether acid radiation.]

Kaelen bent over, resting his hands on his knees as he waited for the nausea to pass. He looked down at his forearms. The acid burns were healing, but the new skin wasn't smooth. A microscopic lattice of dark gray scales had formed over the muscle.

He straightened up and rubbed his thumb over his wrist. It felt dry, like dead snake skin. He scraped a fingernail against it. It held firm. He let out a slow, tired breath and dropped his arm.

Turning away from the carcass, a glint of metal caught his eye.

Half-buried in a shallow puddle of green sludge near the beast's tail, a hexagonal plate rested in the mud. The edges were slightly pitted from the acid, but the center was unmarred.

Kaelen walked over and picked it up. It was heavy. Etched deeply into the polished surface was a familiar, eight-pronged sun.

The holy seal of the Solar Aegis Order.

Kaelen turned the plate over in his hand. Embedded in the flat back was a small crimson rune. It blinked with a slow, steady rhythm, emitting a faint hum that Kaelen could feel in his teeth.

A tracker.

The mid-tier Inquisitors of the Aegis Order wore these. If a paladin's heart stopped, or if they were swallowed by a beast in the wastes, the rune broadcast their final coordinates back to a command post. They didn't leave their dead behind. They always sent a retrieval squad. Or an execution squad, depending on what they found.

"The hounds have the scent," Malakor whispered. "They will bring their light to purge the dark."

Kaelen stared at the blinking red rune. He closed his fist around the metal plate. The muscles in his arm bunched, the new scales shifting slightly as he squeezed. The sun-forged metal groaned, then bent, folding into a crumpled lump of slag. He tossed the ruined tracker into the deepest pool of bubbling acid. It sank immediately, hissing as it dissolved.

He looked north.

Far across the flat expanse of the wasteland, the Obsidian Mountains cut into the violet sky like broken teeth. The air up there was toxic, and the beasts were worse.

He adjusted the collar of his ruined shirt, feeling the chill of the wind against the sweat on his neck. He needed to be stronger before the Aegis Order arrived. He needed more cores.

Without a word, Kaelen stepped around the steaming remains of the Basilisk and began walking north.