Arisen Anew Ch. 02

She didn't stop moving, buying herself more space as she reached down with her left hand to carefully pull out several thistle spines from a container on her waist. Thorns pinched between her thumb and forefinger in front of her, she poured her mana into the spell, finishing just as her foe rounded the elbow of the tunnel. Small, flaming darts slammed into jaundiced flesh, three finding the head while one burned a hole center mass. The aberration crumpled, slumping against the wall.

The elf maintained her distance, ready with another reagent — a mustard seed this time — in case the thing was merely playing dead or had friends. Minutes passed before she moved to approach the body, still wary.

The stench of rot and death grew unbearable as she neared, making her gag. As she had thought, the creature had been an undead. She had guessed as much from its lack of response to injury and the black ichor it leaked. Its movements, however, had been much more agile than the typical zombie or ghoul. Not to mention that she had never heard of a ghoul — or any form of undead, for that matter — so malformed.

This was much more along the lines of what she had expected from the Bile. Though it did not bode well for her if the two were linked. That meant that agents of the corruption had spread beyond the cave she had sealed off or that there was an alternate route out. Or, though she shuddered to think about it, there was more than one Bile nest.

On closer inspection, she saw that her magical darts had nearly removed the entire top half of the skull, blasting a hole straight through the meaty section and removing one of its eyes. Shuffling past the carcass, she peeked her head around the corner, checking for any further abominations. Finally satisfied that she was safe, she wiped her sword clean and sheathed it before turning around once more to the dead aberration. Bent over as it was, she couldn't see what damage the last missile had done, and she was hesitant to touch the thing without good reason.

Elestrea's reluctance warred with the possibility of gaining valuable information should she need to fight more such monstrosities. It was very likely that the destruction of its head had been the fatal blow. No exit wound showed on its back, indicating that the final dart hadn't penetrated through the entire torso. Importantly, though it might not have felt pain, it was relatively easy to dispatch, especially with magic. Deciding against a more thorough autopsy, she started once more down the tight corridor.

She hadn't walked far when the aural stillness of the tunnel was disrupted by the faintest echoes of commotion. Elestrea paused, reaching down to ready another batch of thorns and straining to gather more details from the noises. With the acoustics of the tunnel warping what reached her, it was difficult to tell, but after a moment's consideration, she appraised it as a battle, with multiple pairs of feet moving irregularly in both tempo and weight. Concentrating, she could make out a voice: one she had spent many years paying close attention to.

At that realization, Elestrea tightened her grip on her sword and sprinted forward, toward the sound of hope.