Monstrous Hunger

A plume of crimson smoke and scattered loot marked John's nineteenth and, disappointingly, last kill before the boss. At least, John suspected as much. A short distance away, the ancient road disappeared under a large wooden door set in an ivy covered stone wall.

‘That’s absolutely the boss room,’ he thought as he collected his spoils. ‘One more kill would have been enough to finish the optional objective of the Quest, and the reward for that would have earned a Level Up. I mean, it would if I could claim it before completing the actual Quest. Was that an option for the first Quest?’

His stomach, complaining of its missed lunch, interrupted his thoughts. Hunger pangs had begun to plague him in the last hour, and the growling of his stomach had become nearly constant. With each encounter, he felt himself growing more sluggish and exhausting more quickly. Time was rapidly becoming the greatest threat in this dungeon, and waiting around for his mana or health to recover would only exacerbate the issue.

‘I’m going to have to eat it, aren’t I?’

Among the claws, scales, and hides that he had collected in the dungeon, one drop stood out, a severed raptor tail, properly cleaned and wrapped in a roll of hide. John’s initial reaction to finding a large slab of monster meat lying on the road was to leave it where it was, but his hunger had already become strong enough to overcome any disgust.

‘I’m going to Level Up soon,’ he’d thought. ‘I probably won’t need it after that, but I should probably take it with me, just in case.’

With that hope now likely beyond his grasp, he resigned himself to a strange meal. John meandered to the clean bricks near the gate, collecting firewood as he went. Satisfied with his supply, John created a spit from his remaining iron and drove its stakes into gaps between the bricks. To build the fire, he placed the head of his spear down between the stakes, piled kindling on the tip of the capacitor, and heaped larger sticks nearby for quick retrieval. With special care, he struck the siphon of his weapon for only an instant to preserve as much of his mana as possible. A small burst of arcane fire sparked within the kindling, igniting it. Gingerly, he removed the tip of his spear, and began to add larger sticks.

When the fire seemed strong enough to sustain itself, he placed a few small logs upon it and turned to his meal preparation. The tail had come cleaned of skin and blood. Only the vertebra remained. John’s subconscious understanding of biomancy simmered as he cut hunks of meat from the bone and skewered them on the spit’s crossing rod. The vertebra mostly resembled those of a crocodile, but some, periodically, projected bulbus nodules of bone to each side which seemed to correspond to the deep red nodes on the exterior of the tail, some sort of reinforcement against impacts or weaponization of the limb.

‘Those annoying little lizards did smack me with their tails about as much as they bit me.’

John mounted the rod, strung with strips of meat, above his healthy fire and was met with a surprising new notification.

WARNING: Cooking at an unsecured camp may attract hostile monsters.

He chuffed. “Maybe I’ll get that optional objective done after all.”

As the food slowly roasted, he turned his attention to preparing for the boss fight that might lie behind the gate. The question was, what needed improvement?

‘The dungeon has only thrown raptors at me. I can probably assume that the boss will just be a bigger raptor. Maybe, it’ll have a few of the smaller ones for support, like a pack alpha or something. This dungeon feels a lot like an early Monster Hunter quest now that I think about it.’

Combat had gone significantly more smoothly since that first encounter nearly an hour before. John’s new aggressive strategy left less room for him to be overwhelmed. It was difficult to tell if the single point invested in Strength had an effect, but his reinforced boots proved to be worth their weight in gold.

The raptors were far less clever than one might expect. They called for reinforcements when alone, and lunged at his lower legs when in a group. They weren’t even smart enough to attack his functionally unprotected thighs.

The thick hide padding around his calves offered convenient bait for the oblivious little creatures. There was a risk of being pulled to the ground if more than one were to seize his limbs, but the damage they dealt and the bleeding they inflicted had been significantly reduced. John was, generally, safe to focus on one target while the others latched on to his heels where they would be particularly **** to the plunging point of his spear.

‘I clearly won't be able to rely on that strategy against a bigger raptor. It’s an even bigger risk if there are any small raptors with it. If any of the small fry manage to latch on, I might not be able to avoid serious damage. Oh god, if I get knocked down, I'm as good as dead.’

Something rustled in the thicket.

John whipped around to face it, brandished his spear, and braced himself for another raptor’s charge.

But nothing broke the treeline.

‘Was it just the wind? I didn’t feel anything. Maybe it was another rat. The raptors just charge straight from the brush. What if it’s something new?’

Minutes passed undisturbed.

John poked at the roasting meat. It clearly needed more time to cook, and his pained stomach would not allow him to abandon the meal. Although still on edge, he returned to his preparations but kept an ear out for any further disturbances.

The state of his existing equipment was John’s first priority. His boots had suffered severely. The raptor’s teeth and claws had riddled them with holes and tore away scales. Another roll of hide, one of very few that had dropped, was enough to repair the damage. His spear’s blade was blunted and beginning to chip. It cost the last of his bronze to repair, and it was only partial. His shield had suffered a few scratches and dents, but relative to the other two, it was mostly undamaged.

'Do I even need to repair my shield? I could use the iron that I’d save to reinforce my armor. Actually, it might be better to just scrap it altogether.'

It was a temptinging notion. Against a single opponent, its directed defense would be invaluable. Against a pack of pint sized raptors, not so much. Outside of that first encounter, it had mostly just weighed his arm down. Even in that first encounter, had the wounded raptor not fled into the woods, it could have outflanked the shield as John warded off the raptor at the head and attacked his exposed stomach. Against numbers, he needed proper armor.

Opening his Crafting menu, John took stock of his available resources. It didn’t take long. Of the nineteen raptors slain, eight had dropped a roll of hide. Two hides had been spent to create John's boots. A third had just been used to repair them. The remaining five wouldn’t be enough for a complete set of armor. Some part of his body would be left exposed, ****. With the iron salvaged from his shield, maybe that wouldn’t be the case.

John set to work dividing up the hide and iron for his new armor. Nearly two rolls went to an amateurish pair of gauntlets. Three more to hide pants, awkwardly padded around the thighs. The iron from his shield and that remained in his inventory, which John found himself more adept at shaping, was spread across a breastplate sporting a raised collar to protect his neck, and a knightly helm.

The metal had not gone as far as he had hoped. The fifteen Defense offered by the shield dropped to only five a piece when thinned across two armor pieces. In contrast, each hide piece boasted two Defense, three when padded. The severe drop in effectiveness ate at his already frayed nerves.

John equipped the shield and studied its weight on his arm. It was bulky, and it was solid. If a raptor could outflank him, he’d be defenseless. If it couldn't, there wouldn’t be much it could do to hurt him. The armor’s Defense was lower, but it was constant. It couldn’t be directed, but it protected his most **** anatomy. That made it better, right?

‘God, I really hope this is the right desci…’

A sharp tap rang from behind.

Startled, John twisted around. A raptor, dwarfing those he’d fought before, crept out of the thicket. From his crouched position, it towered over him.

John scrambled to his feet and brought his shield to his chest as the giant creature wheeled around with blinding speed, slamming its tail against his panicked defense. Scarlet spikes shattered against the iron barrier. One spike skirted the shield’s rim, punctured John’s right bicep, and broke off as the impact drove the air from his lungs, lifted him from his feet, and hurled him against the wooden gate yards away.

Gasping for breath, John slumped down. His head rang with a deafening tone. His vision grew hazy and dim. Throbbing pain radiated from his back and bloodied arm. His legs refused to so much as twitch. The spike in his bicep fractured with each agonizing flexion of the muscle, its scarlet shards lacerating the surrounding flesh.

‘I don’t want to die,’ was John’s only thought as tears began to fill his eyes.

By some miracle, he retained hold of his spear. As the blurring form of the raptor turned back toward him, he shifted the weapon from his disabled right to the heavy laden left. His shield disappeared as he gripped the weapon. The creature crouched, preparing to charge. John would only have one chance.

Losing a blood curdling shriek, the creature launched itself forward. John placed his thumb against the siphon and, when the creature’s teeth came into focus, threw himself on his bloodied arm, struck out with the spear, and closed his eyes.

He felt resistance as the blade pierced flesh and bone, the prick of teeth against his forearm, pulsing tremors reverberating through the wooden shaft, and a wash of blistering heat accompanied by a thunderous blast. Then, he felt nothing save for the ground beneath him and the wood against his back.

Level Up! Congratulations, you are now Level 4.