《Mythos Prelude — Episode Jackie》 The Taboo, Part 1 Mythos Prelude Episode Jackie Chapter 1.1 ¡ª The Taboo, Part 1 by Caide Fullerton Cover by Azulino (@azulinobh) ???: ¡°Despite how ya look, I know ya can understand me, ya damn beast.¡± Standing in the shade of the crimson willows, an aging man with greying, purplish hair declared so, an old sword propped lazily over one shoulder. His free hand stroked the stubble of his chin as he continued, ???: ¡°I¡¯m givin¡¯ ya one warning. Stay the hell away from my family.¡± He narrowed his eyes, fingers tightening around the hilt of his blade. Across the clearing, the monstrosity standing in his way offered little in the way of reply. In the next moment, a bladed tentacle shot for his eyes. The man simply cocked his head to the side, clicking his tongue in annoyance. A shower of sparks erupted beside him, accompanied by a metallic screech as his sword scraped across the monster¡¯s blade. This was far from Alistair¡¯s first time dealing with a Feracule. Despite their horrific appearances¡ªbeing little more than writhing masses of skin-toned tentacles ending in hands or jagged, blade-like nails¡ªthey were beings possessing a degree of sapience and intelligence. Unfortunately, they also tended to be arrogant fools. Taking his sword in both hands, Alistair began to sprint forward, his blade cutting into the flesh of the outstretched tentacle as if peeling the skin off a vegetable. Naturally the beast retaliated, several more tentacles stretching out from the coiled mass of its main body in different directions, each curving towards him as they sped through the air. Alistair slid to a stop and twisted his wrist. With a flick, he drove his blade deeper into the Feracule¡¯s flesh, dismembering the tentacle in a flash of silver. In came the flurry of tentacles. The first shot right for his head once more, and Alistair batted its bladed end aside, a metallic clang echoing across the clearing. The second came from above, Alistair throwing himself to the side in a somersault to avoid the open-palmed hand. The third and final tentacle moved close to the ground, shooting for his hands. ¡°Too slow, bastard.¡± Alistair pushed off the ground before the blade could reach him, but rather than continuing in the same direaction, he pivoted, flipping towards the third tentacle. Its soft flesh was swiftly pinned beneath his boot, and he wasted no time in cutting the restrained tentacle in two. He rose and turned just as the first tentacle was coming in for its second attack, having curved around the second. Once again he batted the blade aside with a well-practiced motion, and with a flick of his wrist he swiftly dismembered it just below the nail. With a grunt the old man lunged forward to the remaining tentacle, cutting it in two before its hand could rise from the ground. Returning his gaze to the main body, Alistair held back a sigh as several more tentacles emerged from the wriggling mass. While Feracules didn¡¯t seem to bother with manipulating tentacles that had been disarmed, they seemed to possess an almost infinite store of the things. Readying his blade for the next wave, he muttered a quiet curse. A curse for the Feracule, a curse for Roy, and a curse for everything that led to this terrible situation. ? ? ? ???: ¡°We will be splitting up. Today.¡± Alistair was leaning back against one of the walls of the overgrown ruin he and the others had called home for the past few days. His comrades were gathered in a rough circle in front of him, at their center the remains of the morning campfire, built just below a large hole in the flat stone roof. Seated just in front of him was a purple-haired woman with a baby in her arms, and beside her a pale, lanky man with messy black hair. Directly across from them was the stern, muscular man who¡¯d just spoken, a black-haired woman beside him; to that group¡¯s left a dark-skinned woman sat, and behind her a red-haired man paced with low murmurs. Altogether, an impressive seven Humans had gathered in this place¡ªeight, if you counted Alistair¡¯s infant grandchild. ???: ¡°Of what little of our ancestors¡¯ wisdom remains, one thing is made abundantly clear: we are not to remain in large groups, or in one place, for long.¡± The man spoke again, turning his fiery orange eyes and bushy, reddish eyebrows to the purple-haired woman, ¡°We¡¯ve broken both of those rules for the sake of you and your child, but we can¡¯t remain an exception anymore.¡± The man¡¯s name was Roche. He was the second-oldest of the group after Alistair, and over the last year they¡¯d accepted him as their de-facto leader. With his long reddish hair cut into a meticuously-maintained flat top and a large, jagged white scar over one half of his tan-skinned face, he was stern and hotheaded, but not unwise. Alistair narrowed his eyes as he considered the words of his old friend. He could tell that behind his sternly-arched eyebrows was a genuine concern for Jacqueline and her child. Sitting across from Roche, Jacqueline gently rocked the baby in her arms as she considered his words. Mixed emotions fluttered across her distinctive red eyes, her long hair falling in angular coils around her shoulders. ???: ¡°Is it really true? We¡¯re sure there¡¯s a Carrion nearby?¡± Placing an uncertain hand on her shoulder, the man beside her spoke up in her stead. His black hair cut short over his thin face and lanky limbs, he wore a button-up white shirt and a pensive expression, a pair of patchwork glasses resting lopsided over his nose. At his question, all eyes turned to the side¡ªpast the dark-skinned girl, who sighed with her chin in her hands, not bothering to turn herself¡ªand to the ginger-haired man pacing by the edge of the room, Roy. Roy: ¡°Hah!? You think I¡¯m lyin¡¯, Loid!? I saw it with my own eyes, damn it! A Carrion!¡± Roy was thin and fidgety, his chin coated in thick, unkempt stubble. His old jerkin bore various stains, and he perpetually stank of alcohol. Alistair didn¡¯t much like Roy¡ªand as far as he could tell, the rest of the group only tolerated him. He had a hard time believing they¡¯d have kept Roy around if he weren¡¯t Roche¡¯s brother. Roche: ¡°Roy! Calm down. He isn¡¯t accusing you¡ª¡° Roy: ¡°Well, I know what I saw!¡± Cutting off his brother, Roy threw his arms out to the side, his eyes wide and lips curled with exhasperation, ¡°It was a Carrion! If we don¡¯t get moving, we¡¯re going to die!¡± As Roy¡¯s exclamation echoed around the room, the group was consumed by silenced, aside from Roche¡¯s signature low, irritated growl. After a moment, the woman in front of Roy broke the silence with a sigh, ???: ¡°I can understand why you¡¯d doubt him, but it¡¯s true. I saw the footprints myself. They¡¯re unmistakably a Carrion¡¯s. Wasn¡¯t heading here¡ªnot yet, anyways¡ªbut it¡¯s only a matter of time.¡± With dark skin and hazel eyes, her coiled dreadlocs fell down one side against her shoulder. She wore a simple vest and baggy pants, a spear strapped to her back and a finely-carved bone bracer over her right forearm. Roy: ¡°See? Wren saw it, too! Why don¡¯t you ever listen to me!?¡± Roche: ¡°Roy!¡± He shot a glare to his brother as he raised his voice, Roy jumping with a slight yelp. ¡°Stop your instigating. You know that isn¡¯t what Loid meant. Why don¡¯t you think, just for a moment, what¡¯s going through their minds right now? And stop your pacing!¡± Jacqueline: ¡°It¡¯s fine. He¡¯s right to be worried.¡± The group¡¯s gaze shifted as Jacqueline raised her head, finally speaking up, Jacqueline: ¡°I wouldn¡¯t want any of you to face a Carrion¡­ So, Roche.¡± Determination shone in her sharp red eyes as her lips curled into a grin, ¡°Thanks for putting up with me.¡± Roche¡¯s eyes widened for a moment, and he lowered his gaze, clasping his hands together as he knit his thick eyebrows. Then he shot up from his seat, turning away and crossing his arms in a huff, Roche: ¡°Damn you, woman¡­ You think I¡¯ll entrust my son¡¯s life to the likes of you!?¡± He growled, stamping his foot, ¡°For that matter, you think I¡¯ll just leave my grandkid in your hands!?¡± Alistair smirked. Nobody present fell for Roche¡¯s act. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Loid: ¡°Dad¡ª¡° Roche spun around, clenching a fist, ¡°I¡¯ll go with you, and that¡¯s that!¡± Faced with that stern proclamation, Loid swallowed before continuing, standing up to match his father, Loid: ¡°You know you can¡¯t come with us.¡± Roche: ¡°I can and I will.¡± Loid: ¡°You and Al are the best fighters we have. It wouldn¡¯t make sense for you to both be in the same group.¡± Roche: ¡°Wren¡¯s strong enough to protect them.¡± Loid: ¡°And you¡¯ll just leave her and Mom behind?¡± In the background, Roy rose a complaint for being excluded from that statement, but it was instantly drowned out by Roche¡¯s reply, Roche: ¡°Damn it, boy!¡± He swung an arm forward, and for a split-second it seemed as if he was about to punch Loid. Instead, he took the man by the shoulder and yanked him forward, pressing him against his chest. Restrained like this, Loid was the only one unable to see the tear running down Roche¡¯s cheek. Roche: ¡°You better stay safe out there, you hear me? Don¡¯t you let anything happen to my grandkid, either.¡± He dug his storng fingers into Loid¡¯s shoulder, causing the wiry man to wince, but he simply nodded. Quickly wiping his eyes with his free hand, Roche finally pushed Loid back and clapped his shoulder. ¡°That¡¯s a promise, got it? I plan on seeing all of you again. If you go and die before me, I¡¯ll kill you.¡± Putting on a determined expression that didn¡¯t suit him at all, Loid readjusted his crude glasses and nodded. ¡°We¡¯ll stay safe, no matter what. Besides, we have Al with us.¡± With his name being thrown into the conversation, Alistair let out a low sneer and lifted his aging bones off the wall, stepping forward with a shit-eating grin. ¡°That¡¯s right, musclebrains. I¡¯ll do a far better job protectin¡¯ your son than ya¡¯d ever do.¡± Roche: ¡°Oho? A bold claim, coming from the hag bastard with greying hair.¡± Raising one bushy eyebrow, he stepped past Loid to meet the approaching Alistair. Both men came to a stop and swung an arm forward. Al¡¯s fist swung above Roche¡¯s; Roche¡¯s swung below his. Swiping nothing but the air, both then reversed the movement and clapped the back of their hands together, striking knuckle against knuckle. Roche: ¡°Now then, howsabout you tell me where you hid that cask of good wine we found last month? I know you took it, you hag bastard, and I plan on drinking with my son before he leaves.¡± Alistair: ¡°I guess ya must be dumber than I thought, musclebrains, ¡®cause I¡¯ve got no clue what you¡¯re talking about. If it¡¯s missing alcohol, ya should go interrogate Roy.¡± ~ ? ~ While Roche had insisted on calling the ensuing meal a celebration, life in the wasteland didn¡¯t exactly offer the excess supplies or time required for such a thing. They could hardly afford to eat much more than their usual daily rations, and the group needed to take turns keeping watch. What little extra they did spend on this little event could be considered counter-intuitive to survival in this harsh land, but Roche refused to let the trio leave without honoring them somehow. Alistair had no issue taking the first watch, leaning against the outer wall of the ruin, mostly obscured behind the cover of crimson willow trees between him and the main path. With twisted, bright red trunks that seemed to drip like coagulated blood and sickly green leaves that hung down, blowing idly in the wind, he¡¯d always found the crimson forests of the wasteland to be oddly peaceful, despite the danger oft lurking within. His term ended sooner than expected as Roy stepped outside after no more than 10 minutes had passed, a bottle of dark liquid snagged between his fingers. Alistair: ¡°What¡¯s got ya out here so soon? Ain¡¯t a fan of the festivities?¡± Roy smacked his lips in annoyance, leaning back against the wall on the opposite side of the door and taking a short swig of his drink. ¡°Roche¡¯s orders. Wants everyone to partake in this joke of a celebration.¡± His words were laced with venom, and he spat to the side before taking another drink. ¡°We should be moving already. I¡¯ll stay out here until they come to their damn senses.¡± Alistair nodded. ¡°Not a fan, then. Well, I¡¯ll take ya up on that.¡± He stretched and turned, giving Roy a glance as he stepped through the doorway, ¡°Just make sure ya pay more attention to the forest than your drink.¡± Roy: ¡°Yeah, yeah. Don¡¯t patronize me, you old codger.¡± Lightly snorting at the insult, Alistair stepped inside and looked around. On one side of the campfire, Roche and Loid were seated together, father and son engaged in some form of drinking contest, of which the result was already obvious. Seated not far from them were two women¡ªJacqueline, the infant Jackie still in her arms, and Roche¡¯s wife, Arianne. Roche often joked that both of his children took after their mothers, and while his first wife died long before their groups ever met, Alistair could not deny the uncanny resemblance between Arianne and Loid. They shared the same pale skin, dark hair, black eyes, and thin frames¡ªif Loid were to go clean-shaven and grow his hair out, one could mistake him for his mother¡¯s younger self. As Jacqueline was going on about the child in her arms, Arianne gave her a sweet smile and leaned forward, her long hair spilling over her shoulders as she touched her forehead to Jacquline¡¯s, causing the latter to cut off in surprise. Jacqueline: ¡°Uh, An? What¡¯re you..?¡± Arianne: ¡°Sh.¡± She interrupted the younger woman again, this time with a soft whisper. ¡°I¡¯m sorry that this is all happening so suddenly. I wish you could stay with us.¡± Jacqueline¡¯s eyes flickered with realization, and she gently shook her head. ¡°No, no, it¡¯s alright. I¡­ knew this was coming, eventually. It¡¯s my fault you all had to break the taboo to begin with.¡± She leaned back a bit with a soft chuckle, ¡°Really, I should be apologizing for making you all put up with me and Al all this time.¡± Arianne: ¡°Nonsense. Roche and I wouldn¡¯t have taken you in if we didn¡¯t want to.¡± She closed her eyes, cocking her head slightly with a beautiful smile. As with her husband, she looked shockingly youthful for her age, only sporting a few wrinkles and greying hairs. After a moment, she opened her black eyes again and continued, ¡°Roche said it himself, but I also want to see my grandchild again one day. And my daughter, for that matter.¡± Jacqueline: ¡°I thought Roche had Wren with his first wife?¡± Arianne: ¡°I¡¯m talking about you, silly.¡± Alistair couldn¡¯t help but smile at their exchange. With all but one person accounted for, he turned to the side to find the remaining lone wolf of the party. Wren was leaning against a wall, watching over the others with an unopened drink in one hand. With a click of his tongue, Alistair sauntered over, propped himself up against the wall beside her, and plucked the drink right out of her hand, popping the cap off of it with a flick of his thumb. Alistair: ¡°What¡¯s got ya all down in the dumps, eh? Not a fan of the festivities, either?¡± She rolled her eyes with a scoff, ¡°Not much of a party, is it?¡± Alistair chuckeld in reply and took a swig of his drink; it tasted disgusting, as to be expected of alcohol fished out of an ancient ruin. Wren shot a glance at him, rubbing one arm as her gaze drifted away. After another moment she finally spoke up, ¡°I just¡­ can¡¯t help but feel tense.¡± Alistair: ¡°On the Roy train, then?¡± He replied with a nod. Wren: ¡°Ugh.¡± She kneaded the bridge of her nose, letting out an exasperated sigh, ¡°I really hate to agree with him, but we really shouldn¡¯t be wasting time¡ªand supplies¡ªlike this. That, and¡­¡± Alistair: ¡°And?¡± She hesitated, raising her right hand and slowly opening and closing her fist. ¡°Dad¡¯s strong. I know that, but¡­ he¡¯s getting old. He¡¯s only going to get weaker¡ªand Mom and Roy are only a few years behind. With you and Lyn gone, I¡­ I¡¯m not sure if I¡¯ll be enough.¡± Casting his gaze sideways at her serious expression, Alistair thought for a moment before turning to her with a wry grin, Alistair: ¡°C¡¯mon now, Wren. You¡¯ve been trained by both me and Roche. Really, I¡¯d be shocked if there was a better fighter than ya out there.¡± Wren: ¡°There are two of them in this room.¡± Alistair: ¡°Old men don¡¯t count.¡± At that, she couldn¡¯t help but chuckle. ¡°That¡¯s real reassuring.¡± Alistair: ¡°I ain¡¯t joking, ya know? You¡¯re one strong girl¡ªand ya sell yourself too short. I reckon ya could beat old musclebrains in a serious fight, so knock that count down to one.¡± Wren: ¡°Heh. Whatever you say, ¡°hag bastard.¡±¡± Alistair: ¡°Oi, don¡¯t go pushing your luck. Only fellow old men get to call me that.¡± Wearing a slight smile, Wren looked back to her hand, closing her fist one last time before returning her attention to Alistair, Wren: ¡°Could we test that theory? After all, I won¡¯t get to spar with you again for a while.¡± Alistair cocked an eyebrow at her and threw his head back, chugging down the rest of his drink. ¡°Ha! Getting cocky, are ya? Well, if that¡¯s what it¡¯ll take to put your mind at ease, so be it. I¡¯ll meet ya outside¡ªwe oughta give Roy something to watch, anyhow.¡± Wren nodded and swiftly ducked out the door as Alistair kicked off the wall, tossing his empty bottle aside. ¡°Oi, Roche, ya drunkard! Ya still got that wooden sword?¡± Roche: ¡°Who¡¯re you callin¡¯ a drunkard, you hag bastard!?¡± Roche stood with a start, his cheeks flushed with alcohol. ¡°Aye, I¡¯ll get it and knock some sense into you, howsabout that?¡± Alistair: ¡°Tch, I¡¯d love to see ya try, mu¡­¡± He trailed off as he heard hurried footsteps at the door, turning to see Wren peek her head back inside, her face knit with worry. ¡°Wren? Somethin¡¯ happen?¡± Wren: ¡°It¡¯s Roy. He¡¯s not here.¡± The Taboo, Part 2 Mythos Prelude Episode Jackie Chapter 1.2 by Caide Fullerton Wren: ¡°It¡¯s Roy. He¡¯s not here.¡± Leaning in through the doorway with a few dark locs hanging over her worried expression, Wren delivered this message to the others inside the ruin. Hearing this, Alistair and Roche immediately abandoned their banter, the former striding to the door while the latter hurried to a nearby pillar where a patchwork battleaxe was propped up. She¡¯d gotten the other three¡¯s attention as well¡ªJacqueline handed her child over to Arianne, instructing Loid to guard the two as he made for a spear. Wren ducked back outside, swiftly followed by Alistair; just as she¡¯d said, Roy was nowhere to be seen. Alistair cast careful glances around their surroundings; no sign of any struggle or a large monster. Alistair: ¡°Oi, Roy!¡± He raised his voice, calling out into the wasteland. ¡°Roy!?¡± His voice echoed off the trees, but no response came. The next moment they were joined by Jacqueline, who shot glances around their surroudnings in much the same motion as Alistair. Jacqueline: ¡°A monster..?¡± Wren ground her teeth. ¡°We were right by the door. We would¡¯ve heard it. We should¡¯ve heard it.¡± Roche: ¡°He can¡¯t be far.¡± Stepping outside with his axe slung over one shoulder, Roche spoke. ¡°He may be¡­ irritating, at times, but he wouldn¡¯t leave his post without reason.¡± Stepping off the cobbled stones in front of the ruin and onto the muddy earth, he continued, ¡°Fan out. Stay within sight of each other and the base.¡± With a collective nod, Alistair, Jacqueline, and Wren all took off from the cobbled porch. Keeping a closer watch on the others than on the forest, Alistair moved parallel to the old ruin, stepping past its furthest wall after only a few moments. This particular ruin was a short ways off of one of the many well-trodden dirt roads that wound through the wasteland. In this region, where the crimson willows grew in great numbers, the foliage typical to the wasteland grew much sparser, seeming to avoid the roots of the bloodred trees. While this made it possible for Humans to walk off the main paths, it still wasn¡¯t something Alistair did lightly; one slip on the uneven ground could get him a face full of poison grass, after all. Fortunately, he didn¡¯t need to search very long or far at all. Movement ahead caught his eye, and there he was¡ªRoy was standing out among the trees, fixated on something unseen. After a moment he took a few slow, cautious steps backwards, keeping his eyes forward, and then he swiftly turned around, hurriedly jogging over the shelved roots with another glance behind him. Alistair: ¡°Oi! Found him!¡± He shouted back to the others, alerting Roy to his presence as well, who nearly jumped. Roy shifted a quick glance to Alistair and the direction he¡¯d come from, then began to slowly pick his way towards the old man, scratching his neck with one hand. Alistair: ¡°What is it?¡± Roy: ¡°Nothing, just¡ª¡° Alistair: ¡°Ya think I¡¯m dub, Roy? The fuck were ya looking at out there?¡± Roy stopped, hesitating for a second before pushing past Alistair as he spoke, ¡°Just a lone Kritta. I scared it off. Nothing to bother the others over.¡± On cue, said others rounded the corner of the ruin just as Roy was approaching it. Seeing Wren¡¯s determined face, Alistair preemptively answered with a ¡°False alarm.¡± Wren: ¡°False alarm..? Roy, the hell were you doing!?¡± Roy grumbled, his face tightening before he cast his gaze to the side with a smack of his lips. ¡°The lot of you are so uptight. Can¡¯t I take a piss in peace?¡± Roche: ¡°Damn it, Roy! You were meant to be on watch! What if a monster showed up at the door!?¡± Roche¡¯s fiery eyebrows competed with his voice to see which could shout Roy down the hardest. Roy: ¡°I don¡¯t wanna hear it from the sentimental drunkard! I was only gone a minute.¡± Wren: ¡°Weren¡¯t you the one worrying the most about the Carrion?¡± Under her disattisfied glare, Roy could only huff in frustration. ¡°Ugh, just drop it! Nothing¡­ nothing showed up, so it doesn¡¯t matter.¡± With that he shoved past the others, returning to his post. Wren and Roche both went in pursuit, levying more complaints at him, leaving Jacqueline behind to eye their backs carefully. Alistair: ¡°Botherin¡¯ ya too, eh?¡± The old man asked as he walked up to her. Jacqueline: ¡°He¡¯s acting strange. I don¡¯t buy it.¡± Alistair: ¡°He told me he scared off a Kritta.¡± Jacqueline: ¡°I don¡¯t buy that, either.¡± With a nod, Alistair stepped past her, holding his hands behind his neck. ¡°Well, he won¡¯t be our problem for much longer. We¡¯ll just have to keep an eye on him in the meantime.¡± Jacqueline sighed. ¡°Guess so. I¡¯ll go let Loid and Arianne know what happened¡ªand check in on my darling Jackie.¡± Her irritated voice took on a singsong tone as she shifted the subject to her child, walking briskly with a skip in her step. She passed Roche and Wren, who had stopped before the doorway to continue berating Roy, the haggard man brushing them off indignantly. Finally giving up with an exasperated sigh, Wren turned to the apporaching Alistair. Wren: ¡°Are you sure you have to leave? I¡­ I know it¡¯s against the taboo, but¡­ Well, you saw what just happened. I don¡¯t know how we¡¯re gonna manage without you.¡± Alistair nodded grimly, taking a short pause to choose his words carefully. ¡°Much as I wish it wasn¡¯t necessary, that¡¯s just the ways things are. This is the fourth split for me¡ªya get used to it eventually.¡± Wren clearly wasn¡¯t satisfied with this answer, but before she could retort Alistair raised a finger and continued, ¡°For all his faults, Roy was right about one thing: a Carrion¡¯s bad news, and it ain¡¯t the only monster on that tier. The taboo goes unbroken for a reason: most groups that break it end up dead. ¡°There¡¯s no number of Humans ya can throw at a Carrion and win. It just ain¡¯t possible. They tend not to bother with small groups, so that¡¯s just how we live. I wish I could change it, but I can¡¯t, and I¡¯d much rather say goodbye than have any of ya die.¡± Wren cast her gaze downward, clenching her fists. ¡°I know. I know that, but¡­¡± It was times like these that Alistair couldn¡¯t help but see Wren as a little kid, forced to grow up too fast. He saw the same in Loid and Jacqueline as well. Childhood was a luxury not afforded to anyone in this wasteland; even someone as capable as Wren was bound to stumble under decades of pressure. Beyond that, her worries were well-founded; what she¡¯d said earlier was correct on all counts. Roche was getting old, and Arianne and Roy weren¡¯t far behind; before long, she would have to take over as the group¡¯s main fighter, and perhaps even its leader. Alistair reached out to lightly jab at her shoulder. ¡°Hey, howsabout we get in that spar we were just talkin¡¯ about?¡± Wren: ¡°Eh, seriously..? Is it¡­ really the time for that?¡± Alistair: ¡°¡¯Course it is. Ya were all fired up for it before. Oi, Roche¡ª¡° Before he could even finish calling out the other man¡¯s name, Roche tossed a wooden sword at Alistair¡¯s head, which he swiftly caught in one hand. With an unimpressed huff, Roche patted his daughter on the shoulder. Roche: ¡°I agree, you oughta teach that hag bastard a lesson before he leaves.¡± Conflicted, Wren glanced between the two men before finally giving in with a sigh. ¡°Fine. But don¡¯t think I¡¯ll go easy on you, old man.¡± Alistair merely chuckled at her words. ¡°Gettin¡¯ cocky already, are ya?¡± Wren was strong, skilled, smart¡ªshe was more than capable of protecting her group. But all that would mean little if she lacked confidence in her own abilities. As his final action before he was forced to leave them behind, Alistair felt that granting Wren this confidence was the very best thing he could do. That was why, Alistair: ¡°I ain¡¯t going easy on ya, either, kid.¡± Now standing across from her in the small clearing just in front of the ruin, he assumed a lazy stance with the wooden sword held forward at his hips. Wren smirked, sliding into a proper stance as she took the spear slung over her back, flipping it around in her hands so she was holding it backwards, the blunt end aimed forward. The next moment, her eyes narrowing fiercely, Wren dug her heels into the mud, launching forward with a mighty lunge. Keeping a calm composure even as she charged at him, Alistair watched on as¡ªshe was suddenly frozen in time. It wasn¡¯t just Wren¡ªthe whole world around them and even Alistair himself had paused, time itself coming to a complete stop. For someone to live as long as Alistair had in the wasteland was a rare and impressive feat. In that regard, Alistair understood he¡¯d only made it this far because he alone possessed the means to ¡°cheat¡±. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. To put it another way, Alistair possessed a unique power. Though it¡¯d been decades, he could still clearly remember the day he first called on this power. Just as it had done this time, the world around came to a stop, granting him the edge required to come out victorious. To say that this was ¡°the ability to stop time¡±, that wouldn¡¯t be entirely accurate¡ªor, depending on how you looked at it, it was a far more accurate description than one would expect. Alistair¡¯s body was not exempt from the freezing of time, even though he was the one that initiated it. The only thing left free was his mind. As time around him stopped, Alistair alone could still think. His mind could wander in much the same way his body could, allowing him to step away and look back at himself. In this state, his mind could borrow the senses of his body¡ªhe could still see and smell and feel, and while the concept of sound couldn¡¯t quite exist outside of time, his ¡°ears¡± were aware of all the sounds that had been playing the moment he stopped time. As his mind stepped to the side, a slice of white void came into view behind Wren, where his body¡¯s senses were unable to reach. Were he to look inside the ruin or behind any of the nearby trees, he would find more such slices of nothing; if he were to wander out further, he would come to a seemingly infinite white void where his body¡¯s senses found their limit, the world at the void¡¯s edge a blurry mess of flowing, fading colors, as if the world itself were a dripping watercolor painting. This ability was the sole advantage Alistair held over the rest of the world. In this state he could not move his body, but his mind could study, could think, could ponder; with this, he could reduce even the most dire situation to a calm thought experiment, allowing his mind to determine the optimal way to move his body before time resumed. With a touch of humor, Alistair thought of this power as the ability to simply ¡°take a break¡± from reality. It was his Recess. Though he had an admittedly small sample size to pull from, Alistair had never met another Human with this same power, nor had he observed a monster that acted similar to him. Conversely, he¡¯d been careful to conceal the existence of this power throughout his subtle questioning; only Jacqueline knew of it, and even then only the basic concept. It was only thanks to this power that he¡¯d lived as long as he had. Pushing those thoughts aside, Alistair focused his ¡°eyes¡± on Wren. He¡¯d promised to go all-out, and he had no intention of breaking that promise to the younger warrior. To prove just how capable Wren was, he needed to lose to her while truly giving it his all, and Recess was no exception to that. And so, time resumed. Wren, freed from the shackles of paused time, lunged forward with her spear outstretched. Taking a slight step back, Alistair batted the tip of her spear aside with his sword. Unfaltering, the younger warrior pushed forward with a flurry of spear thrusts; Alistair nimbly avoided each strike with perfectly calculated movements, twisting his old body and occasionally deflecting the spear¡¯s end with his wooden blade. Thus, over the course of several minutes, the first 7 seconds of combat elapsed. Wren: ¡°What happened to not going easy, old man!?¡± Alistair: ¡°I¡¯m just gettin¡¯ a feel for ya, kid.¡± With a slight smirk the old man pivoted, taking his sword in both hands as Wren made her next move. With Recess he had already predicted its trajectory, and he easily dodged the strike aimed at his shoulder with a quick twist. Carrying the momentum of his twisting body, he brought his sword down on the spear, knocking its end down to the dirt. He then stepped forward, dragging his blade along the spear¡¯s haft as he swung it forward. If Wren did nothing, he would hit her hand; if she dropped the spear, he would strike her chest. Of course, she was discerning enough to know that, so she did neither. Her feet dug into the mud and she sprang backwards, barely evading the tip of the sword. As Wren sprang back, Alistair pushed forward with another swing. The flow of battle was now completely reversed, with Wren dodging backwards as Alistair unleashed a flurry of quick swings. Aided by the foresight granted by Recess, his perfect footwork kept him between Wren and the end of her spear, preventing her from defending herself or mounting a counterattack. Wren grit her teeth as she was forced back by attack after attack, clearly wracking her brain for a solution¡ªduring one of his Recesses, Alistair couldn¡¯t help but ponder as to just how strong she¡¯d be if she¡¯d been blessed with the same power as him. After several increasingly close evasions, Wren made her move as Alistair swung his sword horizontally. This time she sprang back diagonally on her spear¡¯s side, flipping it up in her hand. Thrusting the bladed end into the ground, she yanked its shaft to the side like a lever, stopping Alistair¡¯s sword just before it reached her. Alistair was loathe to resort to clashes of strength, since that was something he couldn¡¯t predict the outcome of during Recess. Thus, he chose not to push against Wren¡¯s spear, pulling his sword back to watch for her next move. Entering Recess again, Alistair studied Wren closely. Her back leg was raised as if preparing for a kick, but she was too far back¡ªshe wouldn¡¯t reach him at this range, without him even needing to dodge. Such a folly was uncharacteristic for her. No, that wasn¡¯t her plan. ¡ªWren kicked the spear. This move would have certainly caught anyone else off-guard, but, having foreseen it with Recess, Alistair hopped to the side. The spear was sent spinning past him, bouncing back into the air slightly as its blunt end struck the ground. With Alistair dodging away, this gave Wren just enough of an opening to leap forward, retrieving her spear and aiming it back at Alistair. ¡°Back at square one, eh?¡± Alistair mused to himself as he routinely studied the situation in paused time. The moment time resumed, Wren slid and pivoted on her feet, lunging for Alistair again. This time she thrust her spear forward with one hand, which only made it all the easier for Alistair to repeat the same move as before, batting it down to the ground and rushing past her defense. This time, she was prepared. The moment Alistair struck her weapon, she yanked it backwards and opened her hand, letting it slide freely between her fingers and thumb, only taking hold of it again just before it slipped out of her hand. She then flung it forward, again releasing it to slide freely; this gave it much less force than a proper thrust, allowing Alistair to easily stop it with the tip of his sword, but even so Wren had succeeded in getting her weapon between them. Gripping her spear in both hands again, she rammed it forward, past Alistair¡¯s sword, aiming for his shoulder. The old man only barely managed to avoid it with an unattural twist of his torso, but even then Wren didn¡¯t give up, lowering the spear and driving it into his exposed side. It was a weak, sloppy attack, but in this position not even Alistair could hope to avoid it. He let the spear push against him and knock him off his feet, throwing his weight towards it. He tumbled right over the spear in a somersault, rolling shakily to his feet on the other side of Wren. Even now Wren refused to let up, quickly reversing her arms to swing her spear in a wide arc, its tip trailing just above the ground. It was all Alistair could do to hop backwards away from it. Wren: ¡°You getting sloppy, old man? That was a perfect opportunity to get past my spear again.¡± Alistair: ¡°As if. These old bones can¡¯t keep up with a yungin¡¯ like ya.¡± Wren smirked, taking that as a joke, but it was the plain truth. She was significantly faster than him; he¡¯d never be able to keep up without Recess. Holding her spear at her side, Wren slowly backed away. Alistair raised his sword, stepping to the side to slowly circle her as he watched for her next move. After a few tense moments, eyeing Alistair carefully, Wren dug her feet into the mud. In the next moment she launched forward, raising her spear up in one hand, reared back. Observing this in stopped time, Alistair wanted to cackle at her boldness. She was preparing to throw the spear. In most cases, projectiles were the worst type of weapon to use against Alistair. If he noticed them before they were fired, it was simple for him to calculate their trajectory and avoid them, and unlike parrying a physical blow, their equation started and ended at where they were going. In this case, however, Wren was leaping forward while about to throw her spear. Such an attack couldn¡¯t be perfectly accurate, even for her, and it would leave her unarmed while rushing directly into his attack range. By all accounts, it was an utterly bizarre and foolish move. All the more reason to be wary of it. Time resumed, and the leaping Wren flung her spear forward. Just as he¡¯d planned, Alistair effortlessly avoided it with a sidestep, the spear whizzing past his head. As Wren closed in, he readied his sword and entered Recess again. Now her aim was clear. Her left hand had started to reach behind her¡ªfor the metal wire strapped to the back of her belt. While Wren¡¯s primary expertise was the spear, she was dexterous enough to use this wire to disarm opponents. Her strategy was simple in its essence: distract him with a reckless ranged attack while closing the distance, then disarm him before he could realize what was happening. Absurd as it was, she had executed it quite well. It was a strategy that would work on anyone who wasn¡¯t Alistair. Time resumed, and Wren slid to a stop in front of Alistair, whipping out the wire from behind her back and swinging it forward. Its end wrapped several times around the blade of the wooden sword, and she yanked hard to pull it away. Alistair put up a resistance, but, placing another hand on the wire, Wren wrenched the sword out of his grip. Yanking it to her side, she spun it around vertically with the wire, releasing it at the apex of the circle to send the sword spinning into the air. She then caught it and aimed the sword down at Alistair with a smirk. Raising his eyebrows in faux surprise, Alistair smiled and gave her a slow clap. ¡°Nice work. Looks like you win.¡± ? ? ? It didn¡¯t take long for things to wind down once Wren and Alistair¡¯s duel ended. Much as Roche wanted to treat the occasion as a celebration, there was only so much his hearty attitude could do to distract from the reality that the group was splitting, and that they might never see each other again. It didn¡¯t help that Roy¡¯s episode had soured things for everyone. And so, with drinking, heartfelt discussion, and morale-raising sparring out of the way, all that remained were the more practical affairs that come with the splitting of a large group. They needed to divide up supplies and decide which route each group would take. You must never gather in large groups, and you must never stay in one place for long. Though much of the wisdom of their ancestors had been progressively lost to time, these tenets had been successfully drilled into the minds of every Human in the form of ¡°the taboo¡±. That said, it wasn¡¯t entirely uncommon to encounter other groups of Humans if you were lucky enough; Alistair had met different groups every few years himself. The taboo prohibits different groups from mingling¡ªsuch a statement would obviously be false. If a small family stayed together their entire lives, their bloodline would certainly end, after all; as such, it was quite common for groups to swap members, as was the case with Loid joining Alistair¡¯s group today. Of course, something being practical didn¡¯t make it any less of a tearful affair. It was only natural that Loid would leave with his wife and child, but he no doubt held as many reservations about leaving his parents and half-sister as they did about letting him go. Reservations or not, the time came all the same. With a looming threat as great as a Carrion, they couldn¡¯t afford to waste any more time than they already had, after all. Outfitted with freshly-packed supplies, two groups now stood opposite each other in the afternoon sun. Unable to muster the right words, they were enveloped in silence. Finally, Loid stepped forward, opening his arms to embrace mother and father. Roche patted his back firmly, and as they separated Arianne laid a gentle kiss on his forehead. Roche: ¡°Live well, all three of you. If you keep pace, we¡¯ll meet you here again as we complete our loops next year.¡± Alistair chuckled. ¡°Ya know the chances of that linin¡¯ up so perfectly are slim to none, right, musclebrains?¡± Roche: ¡°Shut it, you hag bastard. I happen to believe in fate.¡± Alistair: ¡°Heh. Same goes to y¡¯all. Stay safe out there.¡± He turned to Wren, ¡°Keep up your training, kid. You¡¯re already stronger than me an¡¯ Roche, even if ya don¡¯t believe it. Pick up their slack and don¡¯t let anyone die, hear me?¡± Meeting Alistair¡¯s earnest gaze, Wren nodded, clenching her fist. Beside Alistair, Loid turned a nervous look to Wren; as she noticed it, Wren looked away for a moment, and then, with a heavy sigh, she stepped over and squeezed a surprised Loid in a tight hug. Wren: ¡°...See us again. I mean it.¡± Hearing this, Loid took a deep breath and nodded. ¡°We will.¡± Jacqueline: ¡°Don¡¯t worry. Roche was on the right track with that stuff about fate.¡± Piping into the conversation, Jacqueline addressed the others with a cocky smile. ¡°We won¡¯t die, and we¡¯ll definitely see you all again.¡± Roche: ¡°That¡¯s right. I want to meet my grandchild again once they¡¯re old enough to do more than just babble.¡± Roche reached out with one of his large, firm hands to gently stroke the hair of the baby in Jacqueline¡¯s arms, eliciting a happy coo. Alistair smiled at the two, and took a deep breath himself. ¡°Well then, we¡¯ve no time to waste. Roy, don¡¯t go causin¡¯ any more trouble, yeah?¡± Roy: ¡°Fuck you too, Al.¡± Alistair: ¡°C¡¯mon now, ya really want those to be your last words to me?¡± Arianne giggled, covering her mouth with a hand. ¡°Oh, you know he doesn¡¯t mean it. Be safe, Alistair.¡± He gave Arianne a nod and a lazy salute, and with that he turned around, leading the way. Loid and Jacqueline followed shortly after, and the other group turned to make their way down the other path. As two groups separated, only Roy was left hesitating, eyeing Alistair¡¯s back with a suspicious glare. The Taboo, Part 3 Mythos Prelude Episode Jackie Chapter 1.3 ¡ª The Taboo, Part 3 by Caide Fullerton As night fell over the wasteland, the overbearing heat of the sun was overtaken by a subtle chill. Loid and Jacqueline sat within a dark ruin around a pile of smoldering embers, a baby nestled in the latter¡¯s arms. Alistair kept watch outside. Jacqueline smiled down at jackie in her arms, idly stroking the baby¡¯s hair; across from her, Loid sat with his chin in his hands, staring at her with narrowed eyes. Jacqueline: ¡°...you look like you wanna say something.¡± Finally she gave in, shooting him a quick glare. Loid: ¡°Because I do. What¡¯s on your mind?¡± Jacqueline: ¡°Really, that¡¯s it?¡± She rolled her eyes, returning her attention to Jackie, ¡°Nothing, really. Just winding down from the stress of splitting up.¡± Loid narrowed his eyes further, adjusting his glasses. ¡°Don¡¯t lie to me, Lyn. I can tell. What¡¯s wrong?¡± Jacqueline: ¡°There really isn¡¯t anything wrong, alright?¡± She glanced at him again, irritation clear in her bright red eyes. At that, Loid straightened his back, leaning back with his hands on the ground behind him as he looked up to the ruin ceiling. ¡°I see. So it¡¯s about me, huh?¡± Jacqueline sighed, finally turning her full attention to him. ¡°Could you stand to be less perceptive sometimes? It¡¯s really annoying.¡± Loid lightly snorted, cracking a smile. ¡°I¡¯ll consider it, if you tell me what¡¯s wrong.¡± Narrowing her eyes in annoyance, Jacqueline slid her gaze away from him. ¡°I just¡­ feel bad.¡± Loid: ¡°For what?¡± Jacqueline: ¡°For taking you from your family.¡± She pressed Jackie gently to her chest, taking a deep, shaky breath. ¡°You should be with them.¡± Loid paused for a moment before stepping around the fire, sitting beside Jacqueline. ¡°And not with you and Jackie?¡± Jacqueline kept her gaze away. ¡°That¡¯s the problem. If I hadn¡¯t seduced you, you¡¯d still be with them. I stole you away.¡± Loid wrapped a careful arm behind her, gently taking her opposite shoulder and pulling her against him. ¡°None of them see it that way. And neither do I.¡± Jacqueline: ¡°That doesn¡¯t make it any less true.¡± She finally turned to look at him, tears pooling beneath her red irises. Seeing this, Loid cocked his head to one side, giving her a warm smile as he raised his free hand to her face, cupping her cheek and gently wiping away the tears beneath one eye. He slowly retracted his hand and raised it up¡ªthen suddenly flicked her on the forehead, earning an ¡°Ow!?¡± Loid: ¡°Stupid.¡± Jacqueline: ¡°What was that for!?¡± Loid spoke while maintaining the same warm smile, and Jacqueline demanded an answer with a huff, her voice causing the baby in her arms to stir. Loid: ¡°For getting upset on behalf of other people, like you always do.¡± He gently stroked Jackie¡¯s hair to calm them as he replied, ¡°You aren¡¯t just some vixen who came and stole me away. I love you, and Mom and Dad love you, too.¡± Jackie cooed in their mother¡¯s arms, and with them satiated Loid wrapped his other arm behind Jacqueline and pulled her close. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t give you or Jackie up for the world.¡± Jacqueline remained silent for a moment, until finally she let out an exhausted sigh, resting her head against Loid¡¯s shoulder. ¡°See, this is why I didn¡¯t want to tell you.¡± Loid: ¡°You feel a bit better now?¡± Jacqueline: ¡°I felt terrible before, but now I just feel stupid.¡± Loid chuckled. ¡°That¡¯s a small improvement, I guess.¡± Alistair: ¡°Oi, ya lovebirds still awake in there!?¡± Interjecting as the tender moment came to an close, Alistair called to the pair from outside. ¡°If y¡¯ain¡¯t plannin¡¯ on goin¡¯ to sleep soon, one of ya can come out here and take over for me.¡± Breaking their embrace, both partners exchanged glances before cocking their heads and laughing softly. Loid: ¡°Sorry, Al. We¡¯re settling down now. You can get me when it¡¯s time for next watch.¡± Loid stood as he called back to him, moving to kick out the embers of their fire. Jacqueline made her way to the bedrolls tucked into the corner, lying down with the last of the firelight. Loid joined her a moment later. And so, they both dozed off to sleep. ? ? ? Jacqueline was a light sleeper. She¡¯d found it was a rather common trait among the few people she¡¯d met throughout her life¡ªawaking easily was a good skill to have if you wanted to survive. In any case, it was thanks to this that she¡¯d drifted into consciousness after detecting just the slightest movement in the room. She remained still and quiet as she let her eyes adjust. Had something dangeorus entered the room, moving hastily would simply invite it to attack her while she still couldn¡¯t see it; it was better to feign that she was still asleep, forcing whatever it was to keep moving slowly and quietly. That, and she was genuinely drowsy. Getting her thoughts off her chest had been a relief, but she still couldn¡¯t help but feel crushed under the stress of splitting the group and the guilt of being the cause. Her head was pounding, and she just wanted to lie still regardless of the situation she was in. Even so, her eyes did adjust, and with the faint starlight that filtered in through the cracks in the stone structure she was able to make out the vague shape of the darkness approaching her. At that, she felt a rush of relief. It was humanoid. She blinked, and the shadow was undeoubtedly a Human person. She wasn¡¯t sure how much time had passed since she fell asleep, but it was likely time for Alistair to turn in for the night, approaching to wake Loid and trade spots. She relaxed, nestling Jackie closer in her arms. She would be taking the third watch, so she needed to get back to sleep now while she had the chance. And yet, she couldn¡¯t seem to close her eyes. Something about Alistair¡¯s approaching figure unnerved her. Did he walk like that? Did he move like that? She came close to calling out his name, but she decided against it, not wanting to disturb the sleeping infant at her side. She was just paranoid¡ªriling herself up over nothing, no thanks to her incessant headache. And so, he moved closer. Carefully he stepped over Loid, looking down at Jacqueline¡¯s sleeping figure. And as he crouched down, reaching for his belt, Jacqueline caught the briefest glimpse of starlight reflecting on silver. Jacqueline: ¡°AL¡ª!¡± The world, having just been silent and still, erupted into sound and movement. Her eyes widening with sudden realization, Jacqueline clutched Jackie to her chest with one arm, bracing the other against the ground to spring up as she called out for Alistair. The figure, startled by her sudden shout, hastened its attack, thrusting its arm downward. Its dagger met its mark, piercing through Jacqueline¡¯s forearm and embedding its tip into the ground below, painfully pinning her in place. Jacqueline screamed out in pain, instinctively gritting her teeth to muffle the sound. She swung her lower body forward with as much force as she could muster, striking the figure with a kick that sent it tumbling backwards, over Loid and into the center of the room. It was now that Alistair came rushing into the room, sword drawn. Seeing the stumbling silhouette before him, he rushed at it without hesitation. The figure, on the other hand, regained its footing with an irritated grunt, flinging a second dagger from its belt at Alistair. The old man slid to a sudden stop, flicking his blade in front of him. It caught the incoming blade with a clash of sparks, ricocheting it aside with a ringing clang. He readied his blade, prepared to rush the figure again, but¡ª A crash erupted behind him. With the terrible scraping sound of metal bearing into stone, the wall behind Alistair shuddered and crumbled, a shower of debris falling loose and scattering across the ground. The source of the destruction, a jagged nail affixed to the end of a pale appendage, retracted backwards into the darkness from whence it came, slithering through the air. ???: ¡°Looks like you¡¯ve got bigger issues to deal with, huh, Al!?¡± The figure spat out in a rush, their voice hoarse, their tone almost desperate. A voice that was far too familiar. Alistair gripped his sword with such force that the wooden hilt audibly creaked, the words that followed a roar. ¡°What the hell is wrong with you, Roy, you piece of shit!?¡± Jackie began to cry. As Alistair took a step forward, Roy recoiled a step back. ¡°D-didn¡¯t you hear me, old man!? There¡¯s a monster out there! If you don¡¯t go deal with it, it¡¯ll kill all four of you!¡± He stuttered through a second threat, seeming almost offended that Alistair didn¡¯t take the bait the first time. Alistair growled in return, overcome with a rare fit of emotion. And then, in a split-second shift, his emotions distorted, calm overtaking the anger just present with unnatural swiftness, only unnerving Roy further. Roy had pointed it out himself: there were four of them. One was just a baby, who posed no threat to him; one was the old man standing in front of him; one was the woman pinned to the ground by his dagger. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. And one, having creeped up beside Roy knowing he was too much of a coward to take his eyes off of Alistair, was the man holding a javelin over one shoulder like a baseball bat. Loid: ¡°Al, take care of whatever¡¯s outside!¡± He shouted, and the next moment the metal shaft of the javelin rang out with a satisfying clang as it cracked Roy¡¯s skull. ? ? ? ???: ¡°Just make sure ya pay more attention to the forest than your drink.¡± With a wry, cocky smirk, the old man spoke, giving Roy a lazy wave as he turned to enter the ruin. Roy had to make an effort not to grind his teeth at Alistair¡¯s sardonic remark. ¡°Yeah, yeah. Don¡¯t patronize me, you old codger.¡± He nearly spat those words out, but the mauve-haired swordsman merely snorted as he stepped inside. Roy absolutely despised Alistair. He was just an outsider¡ªa stranger¡ªbut in the way he spoke, the way he acted, the way he treated Roy, he could tell that the old man thought he was better than him. What a joke. So what if Alistair was older? So what if he was a prodigal warrior? Roy had been part of the family for far longer. He should be the one who commanded respect; instead, everyone treated him like filth. For that matter, calling Alistair and his irritating daughter ¡°family¡± was a disgusting thought. It was something that Roy absolutely refused to accept. Loid, too¡ªhe was a traitor for siding with them. This entire mess was their fault. If Jacqueline had just kept her hands to herself, she and Alistair would¡¯ve been gone before long. Instead, the damned harlot went and got herself pregnant. It was because of her that they¡¯d violated the taboo all this time. Roche should¡¯ve thrown her out to fend for herself, but he was too sentimental to make the right choice. He put all of their lives at risk for her sake, and now a Carrion was on their trail. Didn¡¯t anyone understand how serious this was? It wasn¡¯t just any monster¡ªa Carrion, for Eve¡¯s sake! Didn¡¯t they understand they would all die if it found them? They should¡¯ve ditched the lot of them the moment Roy gave his report. But of course they didn¡¯t. None of them gave Roy the respect he deserved. None of them listened to him. It was that whore¡¯s fault the Carrion appeared in the first place, yet Roche was wasting time celebrating them rather than kicking them out. The fool was too sentimental to act as a good leader¡ªthey¡¯d fooled him into supporting them with the prospect of a grandchild, as if that meant anything. Roy raised his drink to his lips, then coughed and sputtered as he tried to take a drink, spitting off to the side. Without even realizing, he¡¯d started grinding his teeth hard enough to make him bleed. Roy: ¡°Damn it.¡± He coughed again, then raised his glass to take a proper swig, stepping away from the ruin. He needed to burn off some steam, so he might as well make a quick patrol around the building. He walked beside the front wall and then a ways past it before turning, carefully stepping between the roots of the bloodred willows. Even if the others didn¡¯t respect him, Roy was good at his job, and he knew that for a fact. He was often left in charge of scouting and patrols¡ªhe could move quietly, and he had a good knack for tracking and for catching sounds. Even in his drunken, irritated state, he did not miss the faint shuffling sound to his left. Immediately he turned, his senses sharpening and his body straightening into a proper stance. It¡¯d been a light sound, like a small creature scrambling for cover¡ªa Kritta, or perhaps even a Krimling? If it were the former, he could deal with it himself. Even if it was alone, it likely belonged to a larger group. If he left to inform the others, it might escape only to return with a whole band of Kritta; if he shouted for them, its friends might find them either way. If it were the latter¡­ he¡¯d kill Jacqueline himself to leave as bait for the damned things. Would serve her right for attracting something as dangerous as a pack of Krimling. In either case, his plan of action was clear. He carefully stepped forward, placing a hand on the hilt of a dagger at his belt. Whatever was hiding here among the trees, he¡¯d quietly kill it himself. Slowly he advanced forward, his footsteps perfectly silent, his sharp eyes glancing from side to side, carefully checking each tree as he approached. Whatever was hiding would certainly try to get the jump on him; as long as he saw it coming, he could easily overpower it. He continued forward, but he saw nothing. Nothing leapt out at him. Something was wrong. He should¡¯ve seen the creature by now. He trusted his ears, and he was certain the sound had come from about as far as he¡¯d progressed. The monster should be right where he was standing. Then, his eye caught it¡ªmovement between the roots off to his side. A long, skin-toned tendril slithered towards something a ways in front of him. The lumpy shape that served as its source rose slowly, its form wriggling as it moved. This monster¡ªthe Feracule¡ªhad lured him out, tricking him into believing it was a small, manageable threat. A bladed tentacle shot forward, and Roy threw himself to the side, tumbling over a jagged root as he rolled up to his feet. Roy: ¡°Wait, wait! Damn it, I know you understand me..!¡± He spoke in a shrill whisper-shout, ducking behind a tree as a hand-bearing tentacle surged forward, its palm slapping against his cover. ¡°I said wait! There¡¯s six more of us in that building, hear me!? If I shout loud enough, you¡¯re dead..!¡± The Feracule paused for a moment as if considering this, but its wriggling mass lurched forward, using a dozen nail-bearing tentacles in place of feet. It shot one tentacle out to the side, curving around the tree. Roy cursed and crouched down as the tentacle thrust forward, its nail glancing against the tree bark where his head had been just a moment prior. He leapt out from behind the tree, hopping between roots and over another bladed tentacle before standing with his back to another tree. Roy: ¡°L-listen! I really will¡ª¡° He cut off, jumping to the side with a yelp as a fist pounded against his tree cover, ¡°Damn it, you want easy food, don¡¯t you!?¡± At that, the Feracule paused again. Its tentacles retracted back to the main body slowly, which rose up on its ¡°legs¡± as if looking down at Roy. Glancing at the monster from around the egde of his cover, Roy gulped. ¡°Th-that¡¯s right! I can help you. L-let me go, and you¡¯ll get a better meal nice and easy..!¡± He let this offer stand for a moment, and the Feracule remained still¡ªwhich is to say, it remained in one position; it was never truly still, with the coiled tentacles that made up its central mass wriggling about perpetually. Taking this as agreement, Roy continued, Roy: ¡°W-we¡¯re actually splitting up today..! I¡¯ll lead you to them¡ªthe other group, that is. I¡¯ll even weaken them for you! Then you can, you can¡­ c-can eat them nice and easy.¡± He forced out those final words. Just saying it made him want to puke. Alistair: ¡°Oi, Roy!¡± Alistair¡¯s voice rang out from the ruin, echoing between the trees. Roy nearly jumped at the sudden sound. A moment later, it was followed by a second call, ¡°Roy!?¡± The Feracule carefully backed away, but it let one bladed tentacle creep forward, tracing its blade along the bark on the opposite side of Roy¡¯s tree cover. Sweat dripping down his brow, Roy swallowed his spit. ¡°I-I get it. I¡¯ll meet you outside at night. B-but..! After this, you won¡¯t touch me or my family..!¡± The Feracule silently retracted its tentacle and began to reverse its way through the willow trees, its large form moving with shocking dexterity. Roy slowly stepped out from his cover, staring out at it as it escaped, his throat hoarse. Alistair: ¡°Oi! Found him!¡± ? ? ? The outside world was well-lit by the pale glow of the moon and stars, the jagged, bloodred trees casting long tendrils of shadow across the muddy path, the moon hanging large in the sky behind them. This meant little to the Feracule; while it did possess the means to see, its eyesight was incredibly poor even when it wasn¡¯t obscured behind its own tentacles. It was much more convenient to simply sense the shapes of its surroundings. In doing so, it clearly made out the old man rushing outside, a sword in hand. He stopped in the center of the road, propping his sword lazily over his shoulder, his other hand stroking the stubble of his chin. ???: ¡°Despite how ya look, I know ya can understand me, ya damn beast.¡± The man directed his voice at the Feracule. It wasn¡¯t often that a mere Human attempted to converse with its kind, but this was the second member of this group that had done so. The Feracule honestly found them to be quite intriguing¡ªnot enough to forego eating them, mind you, but enough to make it ponder the nature of these interesting specimens. ???: ¡°I¡¯m givin¡¯ ya one warning. Stay the hell away from my family.¡± The man continued, narrowing his eyes. His attempts to converse with the Feracule weren¡¯t the only peculiar thing about him¡ªhe was also quite confident for a Human. Most would cower in fear, like the red-haired fellow that led it here; not only did this man stand his ground, he even deigned to issue a warning. He was quite arrogant for a Human, that¡¯s for sure. The Feracule carefully extended one tentacle from its wriggling body, lining up its jagged nail with the man¡¯s head. In the next moment, it sent it lurching forward, shooting through the air with incredible speed. The man clicked his tongue in annoyance, cocking his head to the side. A metallic screech rang out as the nail scraped against its sword, hot sparks tickling the Feracule¡¯s skin. Taking his sword in both hands, the man then broke into a sprint, his blade cutting cleanly into the tentacle as he ran alongside its outstretched length. That hurt. The Feracule retaliated, sending three more tentacles out in different directions¡ªtwo bearing nails, one bearing a hand. Seeing this, the man slid to a stop, twisting his wrist with a flick and dismembering the original tentacle beside him. The Feracule allowed what remained of that tentacle to flop down to the ground, cutting it off from its nervous system for now; it had plenty more to work with, so there was no need to bother with feeling pain inflicted by a mere Human. The flurry of tentacles was upon him in an instant, the first shooting right for his head like the last. The man swung his sword out in front of him, batting the bladed edge of the tentacle aside. The second came from above, ready to crush him under its open-palmed hand, but the man threw himself to the side, dodging it with a somersault. What a fool he was. For all its bravado, the Human had fallen right into the Feracule¡¯s trap: the third tentacle of its assault was rushing towards him, close to the ground. It would strike his hands, leaving him defenseless. After that, the Feracule would take its time picking him apart¡ª As he rolled onto his hands, the man pushed against the ground, springing up before the tentacle could reach him. Not only did he avoid the attack, he sprang towards the Feracule, landing on the tentacle and swiftly cutting it in two. Surely, the Feracule thought, the first tentacle, which had curved around the hand after being batted aside and was rushing for the man again, would strike him as he was distracted. Instead, the man whirled around and parried the blade of the tentacle once more, and with the same flicking motion as before he sliced it just below the nail. He then rushed forward with a mighty grunt, cutting the hand before it could rise up and make a second attack. How infuriating. A mere Human, besting the attacks of a Feracule? Surely, it was just a fluke. The Feracule sent forth another flurry of tentacles, at which the man sighed. He rushed forward, ducking past the first tentacle, its blade just inches from piercing him, and sliced through it without even stopping. A fist swung at him, but with a horizontal slice he robbed it of its fingers, leaving it all but useless. The final tentacle shot up so as to strike at him from above, but he leapt forward and cut its base before it could rise out of reach. How infuriating. How was a mere Human able to so effortlessly best all of the Feracule¡¯s efforts? The mere idea of it was absurd. It would not stand. The Feracule refused to lose to a mere Human. It would show him its power. With that, it sunk the bladed tentacles it was using as its ¡°feet¡± firmly into the ground, and in the next moment, its wriggling body became a whirlwind of movement. Dozens upon dozens upon dozens of tentacles began to retract at incredible speed, untangling and unwinding, some of their bladed ends leaving gashes in the ground and trees nearby as they whipped about. For the first time in a long time, the single eye embedded in the Feracule¡¯s core had an unobstructed view as each and every one of its tentacles was straightened out. Its eye strained against the moonlight, dilating as it focused in on its opponent. It paused for a moment, carefully stretching each of the limbs protruding from its central core. Then, all at once, all of its tentacles rushed forward, lengthening as they shot towards the man. The Feracule would use the full extent of its power to show just how superior it was to a mere Human. The Taboo, Part 4 Mythos Prelude Episode Jackie Chapter 1.4 ¡ª The Taboo, Part 4 by Caide Fullerton Having cut down two volleys of tentacles, Alistair spritned towards the Feracule. If he were to engage it in a battle of attrition, that would only create more opportunities for him to make a mistake and give it the upper hand; it would be best to kill it quickly, before it realized what threat he posed. Besides, he wanted to get back to the others quickly. He had no doubt that Loid and Jacqueline could handle themselves, but the less chances they gave Roy to play more tricks, the better. As Alistair approached it, the Feracule did not send out a third volley of attacks. Instead it paused, becoming perfectly still for a split-second, and then suddenly erupted into movement, its numerous tentacles whipping and thrashing about in a whirlwind of motion. The bladed ends of some of the outermost tentacles cut deep gashes into the ground and trees around it, forcing Alistair to stop in his tracks. Its whirling and thrashing continued for several seconds, the area of destruction shrinking along with the tentacles, until finally they all came to a perfect stop in unison. Revealing itself at the center of the mass of tentacles, held up by a half-dozen of them embedded into the ground, was a large, lumpy mass of flesh, its surface featureless except for a single eye and, below that, a circular beak like that of an octopus. Emerging from nearly every inch of the surface of the creature¡¯s body were numerous tentacles, nearly a hundred in total, each shortened to just a few feet and straightened out like spines, save for the few that were holding the beast up¡ªor that lay wounded on the ground, stretched out lifelessly from the main body. The Feracule paused, remaining completely still for a moment as if adjusting to its new shape. Then it resumed the rush of motion all at once, extending all of its tentacles in unison, blotting out the stars behind it as its limbs curved towards Alistair in unison. Undaunted, Alistair dug his feet into the mud and launched forward. One on hand, this was incredibly bad¡ªthe Feracule was launching an all-out attack, and with the sheer number of limbs it had at its disposal, it could very likely entrap him in a position where he couldn¡¯t avoid taking a hit even with the perfect foresight provided by Recess. Not only that, but keeping track of nearly a hundred limbs would massively increase the length of time Alistair must spend in Recess. This fight could take hours¡ªno, days, even. On the other hand, the Feracule¡¯s all-out assault had left its central core relatively unguarded. If he could somehow get past the attacking tentacles, he would only have to cut through a few limbs at the base to reach the main body and kill it. In order to accomplish that, the first thing he needed to do was to somehow separate himself from the majority of the tentacles. He slid on his heels as the mass of tentacles rushed forward, swiftly pivoting and leaping to the left. He could hear nearly a dozen nails and fists slam into the mud just behind him. A few extra tentacles avoided plunging into the ground, racing through the air just behind him; ahead, several more corrected their course, curving to place themselves between him and the road¡¯s edge. Unfortunately for the Feracule, this adjustment had come too late. The tentacles stretched out in front of him, but they had no time to turn and face him before he charged through, his sword flashing in front of him as he diced each obstacle, spurts of blood caking his arms as he pushed through without pause. Having traveled for nearly half a day, Alistair¡¯s group had left the forested region, stopping at its edge to turn in for the night. The area here was less flat, the road itself being in a small recess with mounds of dirt and stacked roots on either side, but the bloodred willows still dominated the sides of the path. That was to say, while it was more dangerous than doing so in the forested flatlands, it was still possible for a Human to step off the path here. Alistair leapt up towards the small ridge along one side of the road, stamping his foot atop a willow root. He kicked off of it and onto the raised land, immediately turning right, closing in more on the Feracule. A few tentacles followed him up between the trees, and the Feracule had seemingly had the sense to keep at least a few tentacles at bay, shooting several from its side into the forest as well. The smooth limbs wound deftly between the branches and leaves, pursuing Alistair like a pack of rabid aerial snakes. Alistair ducked past low-hanging branches, hoping to get the tentacles tangled, but they hardly slowed in their pursuit, curving around the branches almost effortlessly. With a grunt, Alistair pivoted to another strategy. With two tentacles right behind him, he ran close to a tree, entering Recess between each step to land perfectly calculated steps on the jagged roots of the tree. Staying close to the trunk, he swiftly rounded it. A bladed tentacle shot for his head from the front, seemingly hoping to catch him off-guard; he easily parried it, finishing a full circle around the tree. Now in front of him were the smooth lengths of the two tentacles aiming for his back. He bisected them both with a single downward swing of his blade. As they fell, the bladed tentacle from just before shot at him for another attack, having rounded the tree from the other side. He ducked below it, the blade whizzing just an inch from his ear and its blade slamming into the bark of the tree. The bloodred wood almost seemed to wail as it was pierced, the brittle bark of its teardrop-shaped tumors easily giving way. Out came a spray of the tree¡¯s sap, coating the blade and the end of the tentacle attached to it in red. The wiry limb began to writhe as it ejected from the tree, the bloody sap burning away at its flesh. A mere moment later, it fell limply to the ground, the Feracule abandoning it. With those three dealt with, Alistair carefully observed his surroundings, noting each of the other tentacles slithering into the forest. He¡¯d created a favorable situation¡ªif all the tentacles rushed him at once, he would exit the forest and kill the main body; if it sent only a few in at a time, he could use the environment to easily pick them off with little risk of being overwhelmed. Instead, the Feracule chose neither option, instead making a peculair move: it retracted all of its tentacles from the forest. Once all its active limbs had returned, it raised a few of them and swung them in violent arcs, dismembering the limp flesh of each of the wounded tentacles. Then, it began to creep forward, using several of its tentacles like the skitteirng legs of an insect. It assembled a small force of a dozen tentacles and extended them each a few meters forward before beginning to swing them wildly. While the tentacles usually held themselves up stiffly in the air, almost as if they were floating, now they flung about freely, lashing out like monstrous whips. Clouds of dirt and bloodred sap erupted up from the roadside ridge as the whips crashed against it, tearing apart the mounds of dirt and the roots that held them together. As the Feracule advanced, its whips gradually eroding as they were caked in more and more sap, it began to mow down the branches and soon even the trunks of the trees before it, clearing a destructive path straight towards Alistair. ~ ? ~ A satisfying crack rang out as the end of Loid¡¯s spear collided with Roy¡¯s skull. The red-haired man was sent stumbling back, dizzy as the dimly-lit world spun in his vision, and quickly he lost his footing and crashed onto the floor. He groaned in pain, a light trickle of blood seeping out from the side of his head. Seeing this, Alistair rushed out of the building, leaving the task of dealing with Roy to the others. Loid narrowed his eyes, brimming with determination. He held his spear in front of him like a club. As pissed as he was with Roy, he didn¡¯t want to kill him¡ªnot yet, at least. He¡¯d answer for this. Loid began to carefully approach Roy, who rolled over in pain, clasping at his head as he groaned. For just a moment Loid faltered, lowering his weapon, and it was then that Roy sprang up for a counterattack. Roy threw out an arm, flinging a dagger at Loid. It struck him in the left shoulder¡ªa sloppy hit, the wound shallow enough that the weapon bounced off and clattered to the ground, but it was enough to make Loid flinch, staggering back in pain. Roy leapt up to his feet and towards Loid, instantly closing the distance between them as Loid recoiled. Loid made to swing his spear again, but he was too slow. Roy raised one leg in a hasty kick, slamming it into Loid¡¯s left arm, twisting it and digging his boot into his side. He gasped, the wind knocked out of him from the hit; Roy pushed the offensive, swinging his arm forward. Loid leaned back, the dagger clasped in Roy¡¯s hand whizzing just an inch past his head. But before that attack had even fully passed, Roy shot his other arm forward, driving a firm uppercut into his chin. The strike sent him staggering backwards, collapsing to the ground just as Roy had a moment earlier. Roy almost seemed to growl as he stepped forward. Loid swung his spear down, smashing its end into the ground from his low position, but Roy easily sidestepped the attack, raising one leg and slamming yet another kick into Loid¡¯s side. He cried out as the hit threw him into a sideways somersault, his head smacking against the stone wall of the ruin as he rose form the roll. Roy: ¡°Damn it, Loid! You traitor! I wouldn¡¯t have to do this if you hadn¡¯t shacked up with this worthless woman!¡± Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Choking out those vulgar words with venom in his spittle, he began to close in on Loid again, only stopping short as a dagger whizzed by in front of his face. The metal crashed against the wall, clattering to the ground. Roy slowly turned to direct his scowl at Jacqueline, who¡¯d risen to a crouch. Blood cascaded down from both ends of the deep gash in her arm, outstretched after throwing the dagger back at its owner. Her other arm held the crying Jackie tightly to her chest. Her defiant red eyes stuck out in the darkness, almost appearing to glow. Roy ground his teeth at the sight of her, his fist shaking as he clenched it. ¡°Sit down, bitch.¡± Jacqueline: ¡°Make me.¡± His breath shook, his teeth chattering against each other. ¡°I told you to get the fuck down, woman. Don¡¯t test me!¡± Jacqueline: ¡°Oh? Am I meant to be scared of you?¡± Roy: ¡°DAMN RIGHT, YOU SHOULD BE SCARED OF ME!¡± He howled, throwing his arm out to the side and stamping his foot into the ground. ¡°I got your arm so bad, you couldn¡¯t even hit me. I kicked Loid¡¯s ass. Don¡¯t you get it?¡± A drop of blood slipped past his teeth as his voice gradually rose again, ¡°You¡¯re looking down on me! Every last one of you treat me like I¡¯m nothing! Well, who¡¯s laughing now!? I won! I beat both of you! You¡¯re gonna fucking die, and I¡¯m gonna come out on top!¡± His chest pounded as he shouted, continuing even as he was out of breath. ¡°I hate you. I¡¯ve always hated you, do you understand that? You arrogant, haughty little bitch and your stupid kid. Everything started going wrong when you showed up. It¡¯s all your fault, isn¡¯t it?¡± Jacqueline: ¡°You sure it isn¡¯t just that you¡¯re a piece of shit?¡± She replied, her voice and expression remaining neutral, though she couldn¡¯t hide the sweat rolling down her cheek. Roy: ¡°There it is again! You think you¡¯re so much better than me! Well, YOU AREN¡¯T!¡± He roared, bulging red veins carving into his face, his eyes nearly bloodshot. ¡°I get it. I get it now, I understand. All this time, you¡¯ve been sabotaging me, haven¡¯t you? You tricked everyone. Made them hate me.¡± Gritting her teeth, Jacqueline remained silent, unable to even muster a response. Roy: ¡°I knew it! I knew it, you damn¡­¡± Trailing off, his voice finally sank down to a reasonable volume. ¡°But, it doesn¡¯t matter now. You¡¯ll be out of my way forever.¡± With that, he turned back to Loid on the ground. Jacqueline grunted, rising up to pursue him, but he whirled back around, his expression contorting as he waved his dagger around and shouted, Roy: ¡°DON¡¯T YOU FUCKING MOVE! Stay right there, or I¡¯ll put this right between your eyes¡ªno, even better, I¡¯ll skewer that worthless sack of shit in your arms! You understand me!?¡± Jacqueline¡¯s breath shook, and she closed both arms around Jackie, hands shaking with fury. She let out a slow hiss of a breath and raised her head to Roy, glaring at him with the same defiant eyes as before. Jacqueline: ¡°Well then? Do it.¡± Roy¡¯s eyes widened, clearly not expecting such a response, and Jacqueline pushed further, suddenly rising up to her feet. Jacqueline: ¡°Do it! I dare you, asshole! Kill me or my kid right now, if you¡¯re so pissed with us.¡± Roy: ¡°You think this is a game, Jacqueline!?¡± He tightened his grip around the hilt of his dagger, whole body shaking in anger. ¡°I will! Don¡¯t fucking test me!¡± Jacqueline: ¡°You really will? Then why are you still yelling at me instead of doing it?¡± She cocked her head, mocking him. ¡°I guess you aren¡¯t dumb enough to try, are you?¡± Roy: ¡°You insulting me!?¡± He barked, sputtering through his words, ¡°You¡ªI ain¡¯t, you, you¡¯re tricking me, aren¡¯t you, damn woman!?¡± Jacqueline: ¡°Me, trick you? Why, I would never.¡± Roy: ¡°I¡¯ll kill you, damn it!¡± Jacqueline: ¡°Then do it.¡± With an exasperated growl, Roy clasped his head in his free hand, digging his nails into his skin, yanking at his own hair, drawing blood from sheer anger. His eyes bulged out, shaking and unfocused. Jacqueline: ¡°Well? What¡¯s the hold up, coward?¡± Roy: ¡°I SAID, I¡¯LL FUCKING KILL YOU!!!¡± Slamming one foot into the ground, Roy lurched towards Jacqueline, flinging his dagger forwards. Clutching Jackie in her arms, she whirled around, letting the blade strike her back. Roy: ¡°THERE! I warned you, you STUPID WHO¡ª¡° For the second time, a satisying crack rang out. Loid had leapt up to his feet, this time slamming the spear into Roy¡¯s side, breaking a rib. Roy stumbled and swung a hand at Loid, but his attack fell short. In attacking Jacqueline, he¡¯d left himself unarmed. Loid raised his spear and brought it down on Roy¡¯s shoulder, causing him to crumple to the ground. Loid: ¡°That¡¯s for kicking the shit out of me.¡± Howling in pain, Roy desperately kicked out at Loid, but he slammed the spear down at his leg, smashing it into the ground. Loid: ¡°That¡¯s for calling Jacqueline a bitch.¡± Roy shrieked in rage, shoving one elbow into the stone floor to brace himself, throwing his body upwards to claw at Loid. He swung his spear again, batting Roy¡¯s arm down to the ground. He placed a foot down on his arm before he could raised it again, lifting the spear up in both hands before thrusting it straight down, impaling the palm of Roy¡¯s hand. Loid: ¡°That¡¯s for threatening to hurt Jackie.¡± Roy screamed out in pain, writhing helplessly, slinging curses up at Loid. The lanky man looked down at Roy with an almost pitiful expression before stepping forward, adjusting his glasses and taking a deep breath as he raised one leg. He then slammed it down, crushing Roy¡¯s head underfoot, a broken, bloody tooth spilling out of his mouth along with his choked wails. Loid: ¡°And that one¡­ is for being a piece of shit.¡± ~ ? ~ The Feracule advanced forward, a walking whirlwind of destruction. The bloodred trees in its wake stood not a chance, being swiftly reduced to splinters and sprays of acidic sap at the hands of its thrashing tentacles, their blades chipped and their flailing lengths charred, much of their skin melted away. As the trees between it and Alistair were cleared, the monster retracted its damaged tentacles back to its body, letting them go limp. It then shot out several tentacles in unison, each shooting forward in straight lines, spread out like a shotgun blast. Alistair threw himself to the side to escape the wide area of attack, and the tentacles retracted back as quickly as they¡¯d come, denying him the opportunity to pick them off. Another spray of blades and fists followed immediately after, forcing Alistair to leap away again. He grimaced at the beast. Something had changed about its demeanorand behavior¡ªit was as though the creature had acknowledged him as a worthy opponent and was giving the battle its all. That was one irritating aspect of fighting intelligent monsters¡ªthey could have mid-fight epiphanies just like a Human might. It made predicting their behavior a pain. Alistair sprinted off to the side, narrowly evading two more sprays of tentacles before sliding behind a willow tree. The Feracule ceased its attacks¡ªas had been repeated a few times now, it would extend its wounded tentacles again and destroy Alistair¡¯s new cover. Except, that didn¡¯t happen this time. The Feracule slammed a dozen additional tentacles down into the ground around it, then a dozen more. All of them bent down in unison, the rest of its body shaking as it built up pressure like a spring. The release unleashed a shockwave that shook the surrounding forest, and the Feracule rocketed high into the air, its body only a silhouette against the stars. It didn¡¯t take long for the attacks to begin raining down. One after another, tentacles crashed down in a continuous chain of straight shots. Alistair muttered a curse, lurching out of cover and breaking into a sprint again, blades and fists pounding the ground just inches behind his feet. Then, in a sudden change of strategy, Alistair slid across the dirt, whirling his body around to bisect the tentacle that¡¯d just struck down behind him. As the next blade shot down he parried it off the edge of his sword, an eruption of sparks briefly lighting up the dark before the tentacle slammed uselessly into the ground. With his next movement Alistair slashed through it while ducking into a crouch, the next attack flying over his head. He hopped to the side and flicked his sword upwards, cutting through the next attack with ease. Yet another tentacle shot down from the sky, but it screeched to a halt midair before retracting back. A moment later came its revised attack, another shotgun spray of blades and fists. Alistair narrowed his ¡°eyes¡±, studying the oncoming limbs in stopped time. Taking a deep ¡°breath¡±, he readied himself for his next move. If the monster was giving this its all, it was only fair that he do the same. Alistair threw his body into the air, rotating and twisting his arms and legs at almost unnatural angles. A loud thud rang out the next moment as the tentacles crashed against the ground¡ªshooting around his arms, between his legs, above his head. In what could only be described as a miracle for anyone but Alistair, all of the tentacles had missed. Alistair then moved quickly, sheathing his sword and clenching two of the tentacles in his hands, trapping another between his shins. From here, what would the Feracule¡¯s next move be? Would it pull him right up to its core, or would it pull itself down to him? It was smart enough to know those were terrible ideas, so it did neither. Tentacles shot out from the still-falling Feracule in all directions, forming a ring of wires to hold it up, blades embedding into the dirt and hands grasping willow branches. Alistair grit his teeth, forcing a toothy grin. This outcome was also fine by him. And, yanking down on the tentacles around him, he flung his body upwards. Twisting his body upright, he kicked off of the tentacles and began to run up the thin footholds. After a few steps he leapt up and grabbed a tentacle in both hands, throwing his body upwards again. Alistair: ¡°Sorry, ya damn beast, but ya were in checkmate from the start!¡± The Taboo, Part 5 Mythos Prelude Episode Jackie Chapter 1.5 ¡ª The Taboo, Part 5 by Caide Fullerton Tightly gripping one of the Feracule¡¯s outstretched limbs in both hands, Alistair yanked downward and unfurled his fingers, throwing his body upwards. With perfect, studied accuracy, he dug the toes of his boot into the soft flesh and kicked off, leaping even further. Repeating this pattern again and again, he ascended, sweat dripping off his brow and a dumb grin plastered on his face as he executed the riskiest plan of his life. His target loomed above him: the misshapen core of the Feracule¡¯s body, hanging high in the air, supported only by the numerous tentacles hooked into the ground all around it. Determined to stop his ascent, it began to stretch the tentacles he was climbing. As they were already embedded into the ground below, their extra length pooled up at the top, creating some slack. Then, the Feracule suddenly whipped the added length up and down, sending a rolling wave down the length of the tentacles. Gripping a different one in either hand, Alistair held tight despite the great rocking motion. Seeming irritated, the Feracule lashed out with another wave, and then another, its limbs stretching out further to create an even larger motion each time, the peaks and valleys of the great wave reaching lengths of several meters across. Gripping the thrashing limbs so hard they bled, Alistair grit his teeth as he held fast through the torrential whipping motion. As yet another huge wave approached, he changed strategies. This time, as the tentacles rose up to their peak and whipped his body upward, he yanked backwards on them and released, sending himself flying up and towards the Feracule. The beast fired off a shotgun blast of bladed limbs at him, at which he drew his blade, throwing his arms out in front of him to send his body tumbling in a whirling spin; there was little more he could do to dodge midair. Blades shot past, their edges digging into his side and one of his legs, lines of blood trailing them through the air; at the same time, Alistair¡¯s blade cleaved through one tentacle, grazing two more with shallow cuts. Just after the tentacles passed him, they began to rapidly retract back. This time, Alistair took hold of one of the retreating tentacles, letting it yank him back towards the Feracule¡¯s main body. His grip gradually slid down the length of the smooth limb, friction burning his palm, but he refused to let go. Realizing he was hitching a ride on its attack, the Feracule reared its whole body backwards, whipping the returning tentacles overhead rather than fully retracting them. Alistair dug his nails into the Feracule¡¯s flesh, nearly losing his grip as his body was jostled by the lashing motion. He reached forward with his blade, sinking it deep into the center of the tentacle. The enraged Feracule lashed its tentacles back and forth above its body, whipping Alistair through the air, the wind and pressure enough to make him light-headed. Absolutely determined not to let go, the old man let but a fraction of a second pass between Recesses, carefully observing every movement, twisting his body to suffer the least possible strain. In taking such frequent breaks, he noticed something moving in the darkness below them. And so, he waited, maintaining a desperate grip. The monster knew it could not pause to attack him, as he would use that chance to leap onto its main body; thus, they were locked in a stalemate of thrashing limbs, only to be broken when Alistair finally lost his grip¡ªor when a third party intervened. The Feracule noticed the attack at the last second, momentarily pausing its movements as it coiled several tentacles together in one place, forming a shield of flesh. From below, a javelin came rocketing up at the Feracule, embedding itself deeply into its self-made meat shield. It successfully blocked the projectile, but this moment served as proof the beast was still an amateur¡ªit¡¯d let itself become distracted, taking its focus away from Alistair for but a moment. What a terrible mistake that was. The tentacles lashed upwards, jostling Alistair¡¯s body again. He waited with gritted teeth, identifying the exact moment that the upward force finished running through his body, and then he threw himself downward, yanking his sword free of the tentacle. He spun as he fell, crudely dismembering the tentacles around him. Blades and hands shot up to meet him, the hands clawing at him with their twisted fingers, the blades biting into his skin. Alistair grit his teeth and cut through them with a flurry of quick, frenzied slashes; the wounds they inflicted were shallow, and they¡¯d managed to cushion his fall. The core of the Feracule¡¯s body was built like a lumpy, flattened sphere, oblong and repulsive. Barely an inch of skin rested between each of its tentacles, emerging from every surface of the core. Many of its tentacles were fully retracted now, granting Alistair a rare glimpse of a body littered with hands and nails like flowers in a field. The Feracule let out a shrill shrieking sound¡ªthe first sound he¡¯d heard it make at all¡ªand began to extend its tentacles all at once, the eerily still field of limbs erupting into motion. Each and every tentacle curved towards Alistair as they rose, converging on him all together. Alistair swung his sword in a wide arc, the wicked squelch of tearing flesh filling his ears and a torrent of hot blood coating his arms as he cleaved through five tentacles with a single move. Tentacles poured in from all directions. He whirled his body around in a circle of death, deflecting incoming nails with his blade, weaving his feet between the fallen limbs of dismembered tentacles, cutting through stretched limbs and curled fingers, twisting his old, creaking body to avoid incoming attack after attack after attack. Evading and deflecting and cutting and evading and deflecting and cutting and evading and deflecting and cutting and evading and deflecting and cutting and evading and deflecting and cutting and evading and deflecting and cutting and evading and deflecting and cutting and evading and deflecting and cutting and evading and deflecting and cutting and evading and deflecting and cutting. What transpired over the course of just seconds in reality took the form of several hours of careful study and calculation for Alistair, mere fractions of a second passing between each movement. He double- and triple-checked the position of every tentacle, keeping a perfect count of their number, a perfect track of their positions, a perfect record of their movements and velocities. Blades and fists grazed just inches past his skin, attacks weaving between his limbs as he twisted his body almost unnaturally. Limp, bloodied limbs rained down around Alistair, forming a wriggling meat shield as they fell in the path of the other tentacles attempting to rise up and attack him. With all of the tentacles immediately around him dispatched, he began a lap around the flattened top of the Feracule¡¯s body, hacking through as many more of its tentacles as he could, cleaving through three or more with each swing. The death toll of flailing limbs rose to 30, 40, 50, rising and rising. Alistair: ¡°Your pain¡¯s just getting¡¯ started, damn monster! Don¡¯t say I didn¡¯t warn ya!¡± He shouted something thoughtless from sheer adrenaline. Tentacles rose up around the edges of the Feracule¡¯s body, twisting their way between its own falling limbs as they poured over the edges of its writhing body. As they made their way towards him, Alistair fell to a crouch and sank his sword down into its flesh. He carved a long circular gash into the beast, causing it to roar in pain again. Flicking his sword free from the Feracule¡¯s skin, Alistair then leapt into action again, weaving past several incoming blades and dismembering them all in one fluid swing. It was clear the Feracule was unaccustomed to pain¡ªits movements had become much simpler and sloppier. It was almost pathetically easy for Alistair to run another lap around the edge of its body, cutting down each of the rising tentacles as they came. With the immediate threats removed, he made a third lap, this time cutting numerous gashes into the Feracule. A rumble rang out around them as all the Feracule¡¯s limbs released their holds on the ground below, causing the monster to suddenly plummet downwards with Alistair atop it as its tentacles rapidly retracted. The old man sank his blade into its flesh again, holding on for dear life as it fell. The Feracule¡¯s tentacles slammed into the ground as it crashed down with a meteoric impact, each bending like legs to try to soften its fall. This was only partially successful, its body crashing into the mud, rocked by the impact. It was still for a moment as if dazed, but then it began to thrash its main body around, trying to throw Alistair off of it. He only dug his blade deeper into it, until finally it extended half of its tentacles, rotating its entire body upside-down. Alistair was finally forced to leap off as the beast crashed down onto its bloodied head, the old man rolling through the mud and up to his feet. The creature seemed to groan as it weakly extended several tentacles, cutting winding paths through the air, but it was interrupted as a second javelin suddenly shot towards it, this time slamming unimpeded into its main body, embedding itself deep into its flesh. Its tentacles fell limp as it shrieked. After a moment it began to move again, its tentacles clawing at the ground like desperate hands, its body shuffling as it tried to drag itself forward. Alistair sighed, slowly stepping forward to cut each of the remaining tentacles as they dug into the mud. Alistair: ¡°Ya didn¡¯t listen to me before, so I suggest ya do it now. You¡¯ve lost. Just give in¡ªno need to make this more painful for yourself.¡± The Feracule seemed to growl, whipping a bladed tentacle at Alistair, which he easily deflected and then cut. Watching its bleeding limb fall to the ground, the monster¡¯s movements gradually slowed. Alistair watched the Feracule carefully, finally seeming satisfied as it became completely still after a few seconds. ¡°Well, looks like it took my advice. Loid, put it out of its misery.¡± A third javelin shot at the beast, and finally its core body almost seemed to deflate as it fell limp. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! Alistair took a long sigh and let himself fall to a sitting position, overlooking the great corpse of the Feracule. ¡°Thanks for the assist. Roy?¡± Loid: ¡°Unconscious. And missing some teeth.¡± Loid replied matter-of-factly as he emerged from the shadows, stepping up to the huge body of the Feracule and climbing onto several of its limp tentacles in order to retrieve his javelins. Alistair: ¡°And Jacqueline? Jackie?¡± Loid: ¡°He got Lyn¡¯s arm bad, but... Well, you know how she is. I already treated it, so she¡¯ll be fine. Jackie¡¯s unharmed, as well.¡± Overcome with relief, Alistair collapsed backwards into the mud. ¡°Thank Eve. This bastard got me in a few spots.¡± Loid: ¡°Can you walk?¡± Alistair: ¡°Drag me inside. I¡¯ll be alright, but I¡¯m damn exhausted.¡± Tracing his gaze along the bloody, deflated form of the Feracule, Loid simply nodded. ¡°Yeah, I can guess why.¡± ~ ? ~ Alistair: ¡°Yo.¡± As Roy awoke, the first thing to greet him was Alistair¡¯s voice. He found himself on the floor, slumped against the wall; Alistair was seated on a slab of rock in front of him, elbow resting on his sword, its blade jabbed into the ground. Loid and Jacqueline flanked him on either side, the former holding his spear at the ready, the latter holding a soundly-sleeping Jackie in one arm, her other hand resting on the hilt of her dagger. Alistair: ¡°Welcome back to the land of the living, jackass. Ya mind answerin¡¯ a few things for us?¡± Roy narrowed his eyes, glaring up at Alistair and eyeing the bloodsoaked bandages that now coiled around his legs, shoulders, and torso. At that, Alistair waved his free hand with a flourish and spoke with a snide smile, Alistair: ¡°Were ya hopin¡¯ I¡¯d died? Or maybe just that I¡¯d gotten it a little worse?¡± He paused momentarily, then threw his hand out to the side as if discarding the idea, swiftly returning to the previous topic. ¡°No distractions, now. If ya don¡¯t wanna cooperate, I could always leave ya outside with your friend as Carrion chow.¡± After grumbling for a moment, Roy spat to the side. ¡°You think I¡¯m dumb?¡± Jacqueline made a show of visibly snickering at that remark, but Roy ignored her. ¡°Why would I tell you anything just for you to kill me after?¡± Alistair: ¡°Because you¡¯re one very lucky man, Roy.¡± Alistair leaned forward, ¡°I happen to have a lot of respect for Roche, and I¡¯d hate to make him and the others wake up to find you missing and dead. I¡¯d hate even more if they came looking for ya and figured out we did it. So, I¡¯m considerin¡¯ letting ya go, so long as ya can prove y¡¯ain¡¯t as much of a danger to them as y¡¯are to us. Understand?¡± Roy grit his teeth, but nodded. ¡°Fine, damn it.¡± Alistair: ¡°Good. Now, I¡¯m guessin¡¯ it¡¯s no coincidence that monster showed up right as you were attackin¡¯ us? Not like ya denied it bein¡¯ your friend.¡± Roy grumbled, and Alistair continued without even receiving a reply, ¡°I gotta know, just what possibly drove you to betray your own kind for a damned Feracule? Y¡¯ain¡¯t really that dumb, are ya?¡± Roy: ¡°Of course not!¡± Roy snapped, growling at Alistair. ¡°It¡­ put me in a difficult spot. This was the only way to protect my family!¡± Jacqueline: ¡°So that thing¡¯s what you actually saw earlier, huh?¡± Roy shot a sidelong glare, but Alistair interfered before he could snap at her, Alistair: ¡°Guess I¡¯ll skip past the fact ya don¡¯t consider us part of that family. So, what? You agreed to feed us to it thinkin¡¯ it¡¯d spare ya?¡± Roy paused in momentary silence, at which Alistair slapped a hand over his own face, rubbing his temple. ¡°Ya damn fool. It would¡¯ve killed ya right after.¡± Roy: ¡°Well, what was I meant to do!? Let it¡ª¡° Alistair: ¡°Ya were meant to tell all of us about it, dumbass!¡± He stood, lifting his sword with him and pointing it down at Roy, causing the red-haired man to jump. ¡°We would¡¯ve killed it before we split up! D¡¯ya honestly think this was the best option!?¡± Roy stammered, and it was Jacqueline who responded in his place, closing one eye and holding out an open palm as she spoke matter-of-factly, Jacqueline: ¡°Of course not. He just wanted a convenient excuse to come get us killed. You should¡¯ve heard the way he rambled on earlier, Al.¡± Roy: ¡°Shut it!¡± Jacqueline: ¡°Yeah, it was just like that, but less coherent and with more swearing.¡± Alistair sat back down with a sigh as the two bickered, Jacqueline standing and turning to walk away from the group. Roy: ¡°Tch, how¡¯s your back, woman?¡± Jacqueline: ¡°Perfectly fine, actually.¡± Taunting him further with a smirk, she twirled around slowly, showing she had no wound at all, merely a torn shirt. ¡°Oh, what¡¯s this? Is little Roy upset his attack didn¡¯t land? Gonna ask how I did it?¡± She then turned to face him, scoffing with a hand covering her mouth. Alistair: ¡°Don¡¯t go and instigate him again.¡± Alistair replied dryly, keeping his gaze focused on Roy. ¡°Alright, get up. I want ya out of my sight.¡± Roy: ¡°Th-then, that means..?¡± Alistair: ¡°Aye, we¡¯ll let ya go. Your weapons are a ways down the road, but¡­¡± As Roy shakily stood, bracing against the wall behind him, Alistair trailed off, tapping his chin in thought. ¡°Well, I was thinkin¡¯ while ya were out. I don¡¯t want ya turnin¡¯ right around an¡¯ attackin¡¯ us again. Can¡¯t say I trust ya not to be a danger to the others, either.¡± As Alistair narrowed his eyes to a sharp glare, Roy¡¯s own eyes widened as he began to stutter. ¡°I-I won¡¯t, damn it! I¡¯m heading right back, so¡ª¡° Alistair: ¡°Hold it just a second. I need insurance ya won¡¯t cause trouble again, and for that matter, I really don¡¯t think you¡¯ve suffered enough for what ya tried to pull.¡± Roy: ¡°F-fine, I¡¯ll give you your damn insurance! Just¡ªwh-what is it!? Take it and¡ª¡° Alistair slowly stood as Roy stumbled through his words. He eyed the man for another moment before drawing his sword, holding it out in front of Roy. Roy: ¡°O-oi! The hell do you think you¡¯re¡ª¡° Alistair: ¡°Your hand.¡± As Roy stumbled back against the wall in alarm, Alistair replied calmly, gesturing with his sword. ¡°That¡¯s my insurance. I want one of your hands.¡± Roy: ¡°Wha¡ªYou¡ªY-you think I¡¯d agree to that!?¡± Alistair: ¡°What¡¯s this? Ya think I¡¯m bein¡¯ unreasonable?¡± Alistair began to scratch his chin with his free hand, ¡°I mean, ya did try to kill all four of us, so I think lettin¡¯ ya live at all¡¯s already a huge favor. I¡¯m also doin¡¯ ya the kindness of not telling your dear brother what you did tonight¡­¡± Speaking with a dramatic flair, he pretended to ponder the issue, giving Roy a sidelong glare as he shifted to the side. ¡°Man, I really did think it was a good deal. But, if ya refuse¡­ guess we gotta go with Carrion chow.¡± Roy: ¡°W-wait, damn it! Wait!¡± Alistair: ¡°Oh? Ya willin¡¯ to reconsider?¡± Roy: ¡°I am! I am, so¡­¡± Roy returned Alistair¡¯s glare with gritted teeth, furiously glancing to either side. Finally making his decision, he gulped and took a deep breath. He leapt to the side, sprinting towards the destroyed wall of the ruin. Pain shot up his legs and throughout his body, but he didn¡¯t care. With thunderous step after step, he surged forward into the night, into freedom, into¡ªthe ground. His legs gave out beneath him, and he crashed into the mud with a pained grunt. Alistair: ¡°Ya really ain¡¯t a good negotiator, huh?¡± Hearing Alistair¡¯s snide voice behind him, Roy forced his body forward, reaching out a hand to claw at the mud and lift his head. As he did, a looming shadow entered his view¡ªno, a great corpse. As his eyes adjusted, he came to realize he was right in front of the massive, deflated corpse of the Feracule, already abuzz with the fist-sized beetles that consumed everything that died in the wasteland. He couldn¡¯t help but let out a startled yelp, throwing his body backwards and into a sitting position. As he did, the back of his head struck a pair of legs behind him. Alistair: ¡°Ya done running?¡± Roy¡¯s voice trembled, rising from a croak to a wail. Mustering all the strength he could, he suddenly surged up to his feet, twisting his body around to swing at Alistair with a furious punch. As if it were the most natural motion he¡¯d ever taken, Alistair simply stepped back, flicking his sword in front of him. Roy¡¯s vision momentarily turned white with searing pain, and he heard a soft thud as his own hand fell to the ground in front of him. A moment passed in silence except for Roy¡¯s pounding heartbeat, and then he erupted into a cry of pain. Alistair: ¡°Whoops. Sorry, buddy¡ªya startled me.¡± With a dry, almost humorous tone, he looked down upon Roy without remorse. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew an old cloth and suddenly shoved it into Roy¡¯s mouth, forcefully muting him. ¡°Now, quiet down, will ya? I¡¯m a man of my word, and ya did pay your dues. If ya come inside, I¡¯ll have Loid stop the bleedin¡¯, and then ya can get the hell away from us.¡± With that, he turned, taking a few steps back toward the ruin before stopping to glance back at Roy with a grim smile, ¡°¡¯Course, it¡¯s up to ya to think of a convincing lie. I¡¯m sure Roche¡¯ll be very interested to hear how ya lost an arm tonight.¡± Loid Mythos Prelude Episode Jackie Chapter 2 ¡ª Loid by Caide Fullerton A terrible screech rang out as stone and metal alike were torn to shreds. The wasteland was dotted with many piles of ancient debris and rusted scrap, giving the very air a foul, irony taste. As the battle raged on, the wails and howls of pipes and sheet metal rose to the sky as more and more of their kin were crushed or torn asunder. The composer of this cacophony was none other than the great claws of a towering monster¡ªa Jubokko. Humanoid in shape, this particular individual was a giant for its kind, nearly triple the height of the Humans it was hunting. Its skin was completely covered by a thick layer of red bark, and long, sickly-green leaves hung from its joints and the tips of its fingers. Its face was featureless, its hands far too large and its jagged claws far too long. When the creature stood still and assumed the right pose, it would closely resemble the willow trees that dotted the landscape, with their bloodred bark, their bulbous, droplet-shaped cysts, and their long, draping leaves. The Jubokko were frail, hence why they disguised themselves as trees and ambushed their prey in large packs. ¡°Frail¡± was the last word Loid would pick to describe the monstrosity in their path, so it made sense that it had been freely wandering the winding paths of the wasteland alone, abandoning the traditions of its kind. Crouching behind a block of stone that had fallen over the edge of the path, Loid peered over his cover to watch as two figures dashed around the feet of the hulking treeman, chipping away at its tough bark armor. One was an old man dressed in a grey tunic, torn to reveal the leather padding beneath; his graying hair belied his agility and his skill with a sword. The other was a young woman with long, angular hair, its shade a reddish-purple that stood out from her grey surroundings; her bright red eyes seemed to gleam as she faced the monster with grit teeth and a determined sneer. The lumbering giant swung its great body in circles, lashing out at the two with its oversized claws. With each missed attack it would tear gashes into the muddy path or into one of the piles of debris that lined either side of the road, and the two Humans would dash behind it along either side, slashing their blades at its bark only to break off small chips of mulch. As his companions faced the monster head-on, Loid alone hid out of sight. He was a pale, lanky man with short black hair, a pair of crooked makeshift glasses resting on his face. He was not hiding out of cowardice, but out of necessity. Clutched in his left arm was a baby¡ªhis baby, merely six months old. Jackie looked out at the world with bright red eyes just like their mother¡¯s, almost eerily calm despite the chaos surrounding them. In his right hand, Loid tightly gripped a spear, just in case he needed to use it. If all went well, it would never come to that; he would keep Jackie safely out of sight while Jacqueline and Alistair dealt with whatever threat they faced. Neither of them had ever once called him weak, nor ridiculed him for being useless, nor anything of the sort. This was how it had always been. When they sparred, he only ever beat his sister once or twice; they were both flukes. She would always encourage him to keep working and improving, but the results never changed; the simple fact of the matter was that she was stronger, faster, and more talented than him. His father, too, was always kind and encouraging. He would say that Loid had promise, would tell him to focus on his strengths, would warn him not to compare himself to others. To a point, those words were true¡ªit wasn¡¯t as if Loid was so weak he couldn¡¯t handle himself. Even so, how could he help but to compare his skill to others¡¯? The only person who had ever done Loid the kindness of berating him for his weakness was Roy. During their final confrontation, he¡¯d easily caught Loid off-guard and overwhelmed him. If it weren¡¯t for Jacqueline¡¯s cunning, he might¡¯ve died thanks to his own weakness¡ªall four of them might¡¯ve died. He could still clearly recall every last word Roy had said that night, could still feel every blow he¡¯d inflicted. He could remember exactly how he felt¡ªthe pain as he was beaten down, his self-pity for being so weak, the guilt for placing Jacqueline and Jackie in danger, the suffocating rage he felt at Roy¡¯s every word and action. Despite how painful they were, he held those memories close. It was the one and only moment in his life where someone else had pointed out his weakness. It was only by reliving that pain and anger that he could drive himself to become better¡ªto become stronger. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Since that day, he¡¯d began to dedicate every spare moment to improving himself, to strengthening both his mind and body. He needed to be stronger, faster, smarter, more durable, more perceptive¡ªenough that he could stand side-by-side with them. And yet¡­ he tightened his grip on his spear. Even after all these months, he was still here, watching from the sidelines. That the others never called him weak, that much had not changed¡ªin fact, he was sure that they¡¯d both caught on to his solitary training already. It simply wasn¡¯t enough. Without insulting him, without telling him he needed to work harder, they determined silently that he was still the weakest among them, and they left him at the sidelines while they faced danger head-on. Up ahead, the Jubokko leapt into the air, raising both fists above its head as it careened towards the old man, Alistair. He shot forward, dashing beneath its towering shadow and leaving it to crash into the ground behind him. Its fists dug a crater into the mud beneath them, and Alistair and Jacqueline both struck at its crouched form from either side, peppering the backs of its knees with a flurry of quick blows, sending wood chips flying in either direction. The creature emitted not a screech, but a sound like creaking wood as it twisted around and swung the back of its hand at them; Jacqueline leapt away as Alistair ducked beneath it, running past the beast and peppering its body with more slashes. It wasn¡¯t as if Loid wanted to be in danger¡ªat times, it was comforting to know he would always be given the easy job. But, at the same time, that fact filled him with a guilt that felt as though it was hollowing out his heart and mind. It would be dangerous, yes, but even so, he wanted to do something for the people he loved¡ªto share just a little more of the burden of life with them. And yet, what was he to do? He fully understood why he was in this position. He was simply inadequate to serve as a substitute for either of them. To argue against that, to insist on taking their place regardless, would be nothing but foolish¡ªillogical. Would he be able to live with himself if his selfish request resulted in someone getting hurt, or worse? He knew the answer to this question, and so he never spoke up. Instead, he simply dwelt on the matter for nights on end, searching for a solution that might not even exist. The others were stronger, faster, smarter than he was, and he knew he could never catch up, much less surpass them. If all those things were off the table, what did Loid have to offer? What power did Loid possibly possess? What could Loid do that nobody else could? Loid slowly slid his feet apart, flipping his spear around in his hand and rearing his arm back. He watched carefully as the battle progressed, tracking the Jubokko¡¯s great leaps and lunges with subtle twists of his wrist. Perhaps he had been approaching things the wrong way all along. Even if he could not surpass them in any metric, even if there was nothing he alone could do, did that truly matter? He was the one who was here, now. Regardless of how weak he was or wasn¡¯t, surely Loid could do ¡°something¡±. It didn¡¯t matter what that ¡°something¡± was, nor did it matter that he could only provide support from the sidelines¡ªall that mattered was that he did it. Loid: ¡°...Sorry if this spooks you a bit.¡± He spoke to the child held against him in a hushed whisper. And then, he let steel fly. Raising its colossal hands over its head for another attack, The Jubokko stood tall amid the battlefield. Its opponents scattered to avoid the destructive crash of its fists, but they never fell. A javelin cut through the air with a sharp whistle, its metal shaft embedding itself deeply into the Jubokko¡¯s exposed neck. Its huge body rocked by the sudden impact, the Jubokko let out a chorus of creaks in place of a wail. Its great hands reached clumsily behind itself, clawing at the javelin, but its efforts only thrust the weapon deeper into its flesh. Enraged, it swept an arm out in front of it, but its movements now were sluggish and imbalanced, causing it to teeter. The others were quick to take advantage of the beast¡¯s sudden weakness. Jacqueline charged it from the front, weaving between its halfhearted swings to jab at its legs, striking its knuckles each time it attacked. With its attention focused on her, Alistair slipped behind it, waiting for it to bend its body down as it slammed its fists into the mud. The old man leapt onto the beast, kicking off a bark protrusion on its leg and then off its back to rapidly surmount its height. Reaching its neck, he took the end of Loid¡¯s javelin in both hands, tossing his sword aside, and began to violently wrench it back and forth, tearing its wound open further. Releasing another chorus of creaks, the Jubokko threw its body backwards violently, sending Alistair tumbling into the mud. The momentum of its own movement caused the beast to stumble, spinning and teetering until finally it collapsed backwards onto the ground. As it did, the heavy thud of its body crashing down was accompanied by a sinewy snap¡ªas it fell, the ground forced Loid¡¯s javelin upwards until it emerged from the front of the creature¡¯s throat. Viscous, sap-like blood spurt out from the newly-opened wound. The Jubokko writhed wildly as its wooden body groaned, thrashing its limbs in desperation until, finally, it lost the strength to continue moving and fell still. Jacqueline cautiously approached its body, tapping its arm a few times with her sword to confirm it truly was dead. Then she hurried over to Alistair, offering him a hand to rise from the mud. Loid looked on from the sidelines, and he smiled, letting out a relieved, satisfied sigh.