Fighting Disease [Nahoa POV]

Manifold weapons penetrated her flesh.

Nahoa smirked.

“That’s, like, soooooo rude,” she chattered, as another spear sunk into her left eye. The squelch produced was not that of brain matter getting displaced, but of something of higher viscosity and altogether viler. “I’m just a liddle laaaady. Yet you’re stabbing me! Ouch, ouch, it hurts so muuuuuuuuch!”

“Disengage!” The barked order was followed instantly. Weapons covered in purple goo were drawn back, the men and women of the Oathkeepers forming a circle around the axolotl maid. Much like her wounds, the plague slime exuded purple fumes. More rose directly from Nahoa’s skin, especially the ends of the frilled mimicry of her namesake.

“Awwww, afraid?” Nahoa-xoco-atl-xolotl asked. The demigoddess raised a hand, grasping Nextloaolli as it appeared. “You should be.” The cute act was over. The Aztec’s eyes were wide open, her stare relentless. “Forsake Veridion right now or be sacrifices to my Master’s ambition.”

“As expected,” the leader of the Oathkeepers stated, “evil to the core.”

Nahoa rolled her eyes at Risel. The leader of the Oathkeepers stood out from the crowd only due to the extra ornamentations on his armour. With his helmet donned, he otherwise meshed with the crowd of her enemies. Four dozen knights, one general, all clad in full armour, all doomed to die to her, the woman of the spring river monster.

“You are the loyal instruments of reckless observance to a creed,” Nahoa hissed. “For all my mistakes, you have not suffered for others as I have suffered. If you believe me evil, then spilling your blood is the most valuable use of it.” She was smaller than them, thinner than them, yet when the demigoddess raised her arms, it was them that flinched in fear. “If you dare, try to strike down this daughter of divinity.”

The purple fog was now dense enough to fully obscure her. The knights retreated, step by step, as the noxious cloud spread outwards. They could not peer into the cloud, but Nahoa could very well look outside. Her pointy ears picked up hushed whispers, the little crackle and vibrating hums of communication enchantments flicking on and off. They were discussing their strategy amongst themselves.

There was no reason to let them come to a conclusion.

Under the cover of her fumes, Nahoa grew. The mucus that sealed her injuries ran from her pores, then became her skin, her muscles, her bones and tendons. Everything dissolved, until not a single bit of solid tissue remained.

Nahoa was not built for speed. In this form, she felt even slower. Objectively, she would be slowed as the fight continued, the fume transforming enemy Agility into Endurance for her. That hardly mattered. She could always switch back when she fancied.

Within the fog, the plaguexolotl coiled up – and pounced.

She was huge, easily as large as a house. Still, her enemies did not see her until her amethyst form emerged from the purple fumes. She was an axolotl, but she was also quite removed from the river beasts. Her long, shining body was carried by stubby limbs, splattering plague goo with every heavy footfall. Her toothless maw parted, drawing viscous strands between slime-made lips. The six frilled tendrils framing her head dragged behind them the mist. Only her eyes were of a different colour, a dark green without pupils.

The enemy line broke in reaction to her emergence. She slammed down in the gap. Her vertically flat tail swiped to the side. Even that attack was dodged, but it hardly mattered. Plague fumes continued to spread. She could sense her diseases penetrate the gaps in armour, the more virulent ones entering the systems of the weaker knights almost instantaneously.

Her enemies had made some form of resolution. Though most of the enemy forces continued an orderly retreat, several of them advanced. Nahoa was a scarcely known quantity, especially with this new form. Certainly, it was known that she leveraged diseases, but she had not been involved in any large scale conflicts besides the Lorylim War.

Likely, this would be the last time in a while that she fought.

“I give thanks to the Heavens that I may make this sacrifice to the future of my children. May the **** of my enemies heed the coming of a thousand demigods.” Nahoa’s voice boomed with the size of her form, but was otherwise unchanged. Her little prayer had no effect on the unlucky few chosen to advance on her.

They entered her mist. The Digestive Plague hit them first, though its effects were crawling and perfidious. The Crimson Fever and Empty Rot followed suit quickly, causing an uptick in their body temperature and aching in their joints. One of them was unlucky enough to catch the World Disease swiftly, swinging his sword as he deluded himself into seeing enemies in the mist. A first sign of schizophrenia that would only deepen.

Nahoa didn’t bother dodging the pitiful strikes of these scouting forces. Axes, clubs, swords and spears, they penetrated her liquid body, failing to leave any permanent harm. Her wounds healed faster than they could make them. Their presence in the mist slowed them. Nahoa grew, their loss being her gain. The more her Endurance rose, the larger she would be.

There had been only one limitation to her fighting style: the upper ceiling of her diseases. Intensify was a costly spell, keeping it up consuming more Contagion than she could regenerate after just two uses. With her new form, this problem was solved. Every sixty non-continuous seconds anyone spent exposed to her mucus subjected them to Intensify. Not the easiest condition to trigger, but also not terribly difficult.

Slow as she was, Nahoa moved in the cover of her own fumes. Her hands swiped up one the scouts, lifting him to her maw. She sucked him into her liquid body, fully submerged him in plague. Keeping him there would have been easy, but he served her better as a Stat battery for now. When he died, the Agility she had robbed died with him.

The plaguexolotl shifted internal mucus, spitting the knight back out. He was turned into a living projectile, launched at the line of remaining knights. The communication between them remained stuck beneath their helmets. A decision was reached.

All but five of the knights charged valiantly into the fog. Nahoa greeted them with a malevolent hiss. “Your eagerness to die shall be honoured, servants of the soulless one.”

Risel, standing at the centre of the five Oathkeepers that remained out of the fight, raised his hand. Rays of magical light shot forth, connecting to the armour of the others. Runes lit up. Moves accelerated. The Latebloomer’s Innate Ability empowered his allies. Was it to do with their armour? Was that the condition for the empowerment?

Whatever it was, Nahoa remained unbothered. 44 knights swarmed her and their combined efforts did serve to splatter her essence all over the place. The fumes sapped all of their Agility, but the more it was sapping from, the less effective it was. Though the effectiveness of that part of her abilities was muted by their enemy’s strategy, everything else was emphasized.

The plague goo splattered on armour, inevitably running through the little gaps and making contact with skin. Fumes and fluid exposed her enemies to diseases. They were doing damage. Nahoa needed to fight back to keep them from just hacking her into pieces, but they were at their strongest while she was only growing more rampant with every feverish second.

The first of the knights, the one she had swallowed earlier, succumbed to the accumulating effects of the diseases after a few minutes. Eager to keep him alive, for now, Nahoa used the sudden suction a wild axolotl used to hunt to draw the damaging plagues out of the man. He would not succumb to her diseases yet. Instead, she was healed by the diseases she devoured. Delicious sweetness filled her mouth.

The other knights experienced a rush of fresh energy. Runes, deactivated on their fallen comrade, spread out to the rest. ‘A collective power increase, growing more intense as it is concentrated in fewer of them?’ Nahoa theorized, watching the effect play out over and over again as more of the knights dropped like flies. ‘They wish to play time against this maid of diseases? Do they believe they can wait until I burn out? How amusing.’

Nahoa had swelled to the size of a three-family mansion by now. Her Health Pool grew almost faster than she could sustain damage. For now, the fight was a simple calculation. She kept thrashing and flailing, her motions only aimed at buying her more time.

Not content just letting the five remaining knights just stand there and soak up the concentrating powers, the Aztec demigoddess rampaged forwards. She was a living tidal wave of mucus and malevolent intent. Knights swiped at her heels, carving large chunks out of her. Her incredible vitality saw the wounds close shut nearly instantaneously.

One of the five knights stepped forwards, covering the retreat of the other four. Wielding a titanic axe, the woman (presumably, the make of the armour only left the outline of the body to guess at the gender of the people beneath) valiantly and foolishly stood in Nahoa’s way. A microcosm of Veridion’s entire effort, really.

The female knight swung her armament. Fire burned with the motion. The might of the strike travelled far beyond the edge of the blade. Nahoa’s descending foot was incinerated and splatted in equal measure. As quickly as it had been destroyed, a new arm bubbled forth from the stump. The knight was fast enough to escape the strike.

Nahoa was beginning to worry slightly about her HP. The bar was ticking down, a direct, mathematical display of what she could feel. Though the speed of her physical recovery was rapid, the refilling of her vitality was a different matter. Her starting pool was massive and the growing Endurance came with an effective healing, but the strikes of her opponents did take their toll. She was past the halfway point now.

Nahoa continued to chase after the axe knight. Dealing their damage, the knights she ignored gradually faded to crumpled, crawling piles of misery on the ground. Drawing the damaging diseases out of them provided the Plague Glutton with some minor healing, but it wasn’t enough. Right now, the fight was simply one of resource exhaustion. That was a fight that, as it turned out, Nahoa could lose.

Too bad for them that she dictated the pace.

Nahoa stepped back into the cover of her fumes. The cloud had steadily grown, having become large enough to obscure even her enormous axolotl form. Of the 44 knights that had originally attacked her, only 9 remained in a state to fight. All 9 of them were suddenly hacking at empty mist, where slime had been moments prior.

Contracting, contracting, and contracting further, the living ocean of mucus returned to the form of the bottom-heavy woman. It was still amusing to Nahoa that she had been considered a tall woman in her time. How nutrition and genetics could skew perspectives.

The amethyst hue of her skin faded away, returning the mocha tone to her exterior. Paler, tribal markings covered her in winding patterns, signs of her ancestry and honour. White frills covered her petite chest. The side slit of her black skirt gave a nice view of her smooth legs. The corset clung decoratively, emphasizing an already narrow waist.

One of the knights found her in the fog. Coughing, he lurched forwards. Nahoa took a backstep, moving at such speed the man didn’t even get to adjust his trajectory. A malevolent smirk revealed the sharp teeth of the demigoddess. Mucus gathered under her hanging palm. A split second later, she pressed her hand on the helmet, forcing the virulent sludge into the gaps.

Sputtering, the man dropped to his knees. Nahoa dashed back, eyes on her HP bar. All of her extra Endurance was gone, but the drop in maximum HP had not affected the current. Sadly, she couldn’t break the way game mechanics affected her by transforming back and forth. The system remembered which point of robbed Stats had been converted to heal her before. Any new points she stole would be converted to Max HP and a fresh amount of health points. Those that had been converted before would only increase her Max HP.

Who needed exploits like that anyhow? Transforming back had left Nahoa with an almost full HP bar, and with the original effect of her Noxious Fumes restored…

Their stolen Agility was now hers to use.

Two more knights came into the amethyst fog. They were flailing about, visibility limited, while the fumes were merely a light purple veil for its owner. Nahoa did not even bother fighting them. They were of the most use to her stumbling around in the fog, succumbing slowly to their diseases.

Nahoa stormed past these enemies. She was not at Sylph’s speed, no, she wasn’t even rivalling Siena, but she was fast.

Emerging from her fumes, she charged straight at the axe knight. Unprepared, the woman failed to react in time. Another handful of mucus was stuffed into another knight’s helmet. Nahoa immediately leapt back. Gauntlets tried to claw the virulent mass out of the gaps, a fruitless endeavour. The mucus was partially dissolving, filling her helmet with diseased air. The woman coughed.

Nahoa continued her advance. Her Noxious Fumes drifted behind her, always seeking to cover its origin. Even now, new fog was steadily produced from her skin and her exhales. The less infectious, practically invisible variant of the fumes permeated the entire pocket of the Natural Barrier by now. It was too bad her enemies had the vitality to withstand such unconcentrated delivery.

Eyes set on the leader of the enemies, Nahoa charged into their midst. As she did, the runes of the three remaining knights around the general flared up again. The fighters left behind in the fog continued to fall even with Nahoa absent.

Sword, spear and dual daggers. The three knights had three different armaments and all of them were now coming for Nahoa. The knight with the daggers, the only remaining woman, was first to approach. Her speed matched Nahoa’s well, keeping the demigoddess from getting any closer to Risel.

Nahoa avoided direct confrontation, concentrating on dodging. She had speed and hardiness, but strong she was not.

Sword and spear knight were swiftly around her. The axe knightess caught back up. Nahoa was surrounded on all sides, just as she preferred it.

She let the spear skewer her, grabbing the shaft to drag herself forwards and blow diseased air right into the knight’s face. The man retreated, but it was already too late. Magical viruses entered his bloodstream through the membranes of his nostrils and the lining of his lungs.

The dual daggers sliced through Nahoa’s neck.

The gap was sealed quicker than the weapons travelled.

Nextlaoalli appeared in the demigoddess’ hands. The facetted, purple blade disappeared in the neck gap of the female knight’s armour. Chainmail beneath the visible plate was carved through. Down to the bone of her father, Nahoa’s weapon sunk into flesh.

It spoke to the hardiness of Abyssals that the woman did not die instantly. Nahoa pulled her dagger back, then suddenly rushed out of the confrontation. Sword and axe missed her by calculated margins. The only person quick enough to stop her was crippled now.

Nahoa went straight for Risel. The Latebloomer drew his own sword. He was fast, impressively so, but he was specialized in divestment. He barely matched her speed and she was only getting faster. Even now, she was sapping the remaining Agility from those left crawling in the fog.

Risel blocked the first strike. The second was deflected by his armour. The third, however, connected. A light slice, just a nick to the inside of the elbow, but that was enough. The runes flickered for a brief moment. Nahoa noted that with quite a bit of interest. ‘Could it be…?’ she thought.

The other knights were upon her again and so was the fog. Drifting purple enveloped them and Nahoa wasn’t about to let them retreat again. She would keep at least one of them with her. If she needed to thin out their number one after another, then so be it. She could **** them out slowly or deliver a decisive blow. The former worked even better for her than the latter.

The knights realized their predicament and continued to fight head on. Their chances decreased with every second they spent in her fog. One by one, her diseases penetrated their reinforced immune systems. Those carrying her diseases moving within her fog were subject to the Agility drain. Not only was she getting faster, the last enemies to stand against her were now getting slower.

And every time she managed to deliver a little stab or slice to Risel, everyone’s speed dropped.

Nahoa dashed around Risel, moving to the general’s back. He was slow to react, barely turning his head before a cruel kick to his knee pit **** the man to drop. With the speed of a striking viper, she grabbed the general’s helmet and placed her dagger against his throat. All movement around her stopped.

“Too bad for you that this dagger diminishes Charisma,” Nahoa hissed gloatingly. “Seems like that dragged your entire Innate Ability down.” She gave the man a moment to speak. “Will you not plead for mercy?”

“I die for Veridion,” Risel spat out.

“I would say ‘because of’, but have it your way.” Nahoa ended their conversation by dragging her absurdly sharp knife over Risel’s throat. A chorus of choked cries and panicked coughs filled the air as the blood of the man gushed all over the arid ground. The axolotl maid let the lifeless corpse slump to the side, then directed her gaze at the remaining knights.

Runes had faded. They were weak, somewhere between level 35 and 100 by her estimation. Without the Latebloomer to drag them up, they were of no threat to Nahoa or anyone else in this conflict. However, they were a highly organized ****. They would be a social thorn at a minimum, if left alive.

Nahoa was not as merciful as her Master.