I’ve been down here for months. Thankfully, I never got caught in the middle of the fight between giants. In as long as I’ve been travelling through this cavern, not once have I seen the giant centipede afterwards. While the arachnids will often drop on the creatures after they get swarmed by the uncountable bugs, the battle between giants was a once off.
It’s surprising how common it is to find bats or the residents of the shadows trying to get a feed from the fungi traps only to find themselves as paste under the giant arachnids massive weight. I catch sight of it at least once a week on my journey.
After burning my way through hundreds of the fungi tubes, it has become routine. Despite the immense strength they show and the instinctual fear I feel in their presence, the arachnids are predictable. Not once have they acted different to what I’ve come to expect. They always react to bright flashes of light and chase it down. They will usually ignore flashes of less illuminating light, but will chase it down, regardless, if it stays lit long enough.
I may have done some experimenting once I’d become more comfortable with their predictability. In the hidden depths of a fungi trap, I’d had a flame bloom far above until an arachnid attacked.
My goal had been to see if explosively enhanced flame could damage its body. I might have been trying to push above my level, but after all the energy I’d been raking in from the glow-bugs, I wanted to see if I could take on something bigger.
Of course, I never should have been hopeful. Even at the hottest temperature, my flame could not scorch a single thin hair.
Engulfed in flame as it had been, it never changed its actions. It tried to dig to me, so I simply dropped deeper into the tunnels below. Despite the terror its screeches inflict upon me, I treat the monstrosity as nothing more than a nuisance or an obstacle to avoid.
Because of the arachnid’s inflexibility, I’ve become so accustomed to detonating the fungi tubes that I’ve been able to increase the number I hit per day to fifteen. I can leave the safety of my hole only a few minutes after it gives up digging without worrying that it’ll come after me.
The only thing that takes time anymore, is running the distance to the next mushroom trap. While I don’t think there is any true pattern to the layout of the tubes, they always grow about the same distance away from each other, so it is always easy to find the next. Just run in the direction I need to travel and veer off whenever I notice the strange behaviour of the glow-bugs. It’s no more difficult than that.
The immediate benefit of constantly eating these nutrition intense bugs is that I always have the energy to push on. I need far less sleep than normal and I can run almost non-stop at my top speed without issue. It’s not even close to the speed I can reach with flight, but it’s something.
I don’t need to be running as much as I have been. The merminea Grímr and I have been tailing aren’t in any rush to get through the tunnels. But sprinting around lets me gorge myself as much as possible.
It’s insane how far the Alps extend. I’m sure I would have ran Zadok Kingdom’s length twice over by now. Maybe even three times. And yet, the merminea have shown no sign of rising to the surface, according to Grímr.
It feels like every visit from him is getting further and further separated. I always look forward to his return. It’s the only time that is broken up by the monotony of running and detonating.
Hmm… maybe monotony is the wrong word. I really enjoy blowing up those fungi tunnels.
Disappointingly, even with all the energy I’ve gained in the past weeks, my fire has only gotten a bit hotter than what the explosive jelly could reach. It’s a significant improvement over what I could do, but my flame is still a bright yellow rather than anything more impressive. I was really hoping to at least come near the blue hued flame Elder Cyrus sometimes showed off, but I’m not even close. Instead, the amount of flame I can influence has exploded.
It’s hard to measure my capabilities as many factors influence the strength or intensity of my flames in any circumstance, but using a general standard can help track my improvement. Where before I could probably have filled a five metre radius sphere of flame for an hour before exhausting myself, I could now fill almost fifty metres for the same time. At least, that’s how it feels. I’ve hardly had the chance to experiment except when exploding the fungi trap.
The range at which I can control has stretched farther from my body as well. I never truly had a maximum distance, but the further my flame is from my body, the harder it is to influence. Before, ten metres would have been my effective maximum for full control. Further than that, the flame would react with less precision until about a hundred metres, where I’d only be able to feel the flame.
This is, of course, assuming that my fire is isolated. Should my flame rocket out two hundred metres, I would still have been able to feel through it and control it to some extent.
Now, my range has multiplied near tenfold.
I’m almost certain none in my tribe had a range as far as what mine has become. Elder Cyrus definitely had the widest, but his effective range wouldn’t have been over fifty metres. I’m already double that.
The range has made searching the lower tunnels almost easy. Even if I don’t travel down there often, I can just send out a wave of flame and I can see all the branching tunnels.
Another change I’ve noticed since my energy has exploded in strength, is that I can feel sources of heat in the cavern. As long as they are within my effective range, I can feel the temperature of the bats. No other creature down here seems to give off any heat, but it explains that odd feeling I had when the mermineae ambushed us.
While before, it was subdued. Now, I’m able to make out individual limbs from the thermal sense. If I’d realised what I’d sensed back then was the heat of a warm-blooded creature, then my team might’ve never gotten into this situation.
The wave of flame I sent through the tunnels didn’t reveal any sign of the mermineae. Hopefully, I haven’t wondered off track without noticing. I’ve already been stuck down here far longer than I ever wanted to. Only the promise of an exit has halted me from doing anything excessive.
Should I have any reason to believe those I’m following don’t actually have a way out, there is no doubt in my mind that the tangle of my psyche will push me to do something drastic. Even though it is almost a death sentence, it might even push me to fly to the ceiling, relying on the chance that I won’t die from the impact before the monstrosities tear through the two layers of enhanced stone.
I last met with Grímr only a week ago, so there isn’t anything for me to worry about as of yet.
Beside my — numerous — gorging sessions, I’ve made time to look into the shadows that hide both the blind-lizards and pseudo-scorpions. Other creatures hide within many of them, but none have been much of a challenge. Beating them with my spear has been easy.
Well, except one. But that never attacked back, so I was given free rein to use its shell as strength practice for my spear. Even after months, I’m yet to pierce it.
My technique has improved immensely. After that first fight with the pseudo-scorpion, I have kept my outfit from tearing much more. There is a tear over my chest and my other glove is gone, but the rest is still mostly intact.
On the other hand, the amount of force I can push into my thrusts and swings has stagnated. Actually, I think with the amplified energy within me, my control has worsened. Any improvements or gains from practising my spear and control every day are offset by how far my capacity has grown.
Now that I think about it, how did the amount of my flame increase so drastically without the temperature following suit? I’d always been told it would grow naturally along with my capacity. Is that wrong?
My circumstances are extremely unique. I am very aware that my recent growth is not natural, so is that why my heat is lagging? Or do I have to figure out the proper method to increase it?
It’s improved to the same temperature the explosive jam used to push it to, which should be just enough to fight against the mermineae. I’m worried that it still won’t be enough to fight against the more enhanced of their race. At the very least, I hope the expanse my inner flame can now cover will be enough of a smokescreen to let my team escape.
I detonate another tube of explosive jelly and relax into the heat as the heavy thuds pound through the earth. At this point, I could just cast out my fire to reach for the glow-bugs myself, but I enjoy the extra boost the substance gives my flame.
Even after all this growth, I’ve settled into a loop of doing the same thing every day. After looking down on the arachnids for their predictable actions, I’ve gone and become the same. Well, I’ve not changed my actions simply because they are so effective. I hardly have to worry when I’ve done the same action a thousand times prior, but becoming complacent isn’t doing me any favours.
But… how can I increase the number of bugs I’m consuming without putting myself at immense risk of retaliation from the giant centipede or arachnids? I already leave immediately after the arachnid stops trying to dig me out, but maybe I can increase my running speed somehow. A way to know for sure which direction the next fungi trap is would be nice too, but I’m not sure how to approach that.
If I can apply extra strength to my spear strikes by focusing on my control, then I should be able to do a similar thing with my running, right?
As I climb out of the crater that used to be the top of the mushroom tunnel, I push into a run. First, I try to increase my physicality. Rather than speeding me up, it does the opposite. With my control at the limit, it makes me feel like I’m pushing against a strong wind compared to before.
From the obvious negative results, I change up my approach. I still need to be careful not to become visible, so I pull back on my body until my flames are on the border of emitting light. I’m sure this point between physical and not looks strange; the surface of my body ever so slightly flickers, but the light usually partnered does not appear. Nobody looking at me closely would mistake me for an albanic now.
My eyes glow when I’m like this, but it isn’t any more intense than the surrounding bugs’ light.
I’m faster than usual, but not by much. As I transition between the two states, I notice that while I don’t feel like I’m pushing against a wall anymore, I can’t push the same amount of strength into my legs. Is this a balance thing? Do I have to figure out the sweet spot between the extra strength I get from more weight against how much that weight works against me?
I play around with my control for the time being. There isn’t anything else I need to worry about until I reach the next fungi trap. My weight changes back and forth, but it seems I was wrong; there is no ‘sweet spot’. Only reducing my weight seems to increase my speed.
That is… until an idea passes through my mind.
I come to a halt, dropping my shoulders and tilting my head back. Why didn’t I think of this weeks ago?
I run again. This time I keep my upper body on the verge of flames, but solidify my legs to the most I can push them. It makes controlling my body harder, as I have to split my focus away from just keeping a grip on my form, but it’s manageable.
My speed increases by a good twenty percent over my previous maximum.
Why did I never think to split my focus to different parts of my body? It’s not like I didn’t know I could do so; I’ve changed my hands into claws without changing the rest of my body. Whatever. I know I can now. I should be able to improve my spearmanship again with this.
As I run, I experiment with the most effective distribution of control. Quickly, I find that I can’t push my body to the same maximum mass with my mind split between so many areas. It doesn’t matter so much for running, but I can imagine it might become a problem when using my weapon. The more weight I can put behind my spear, the better, after all.
As obviously beneficial as this is, it does nothing but make me want to change my form. If I don’t have to worry about the light I give off when not in my standard form, I could extend the length of my legs to give me a longer stride or lengthen my arms for better reach. Wait, Bunny taught me to use the spear in my default shape, but why do I need to keep the same form as her? Could I not just grow an extra set of arms and use two spears?
So many ideas to explore. So many I can’t because of the monstrosities I’ll attract doing so. If I want to experiment with these improvements, I’ll need to spend more time in the tunnels underneath. Doing so will cut into the amount of bugs I can consume, though.
The solution is simple, and yet difficult. I need to improve my control so that I can hide my flame even with a morphed body. This will solve almost all my problems; I’ll be able to fly again, increase the force behind my spear and give me the opportunity to practice and try new things, all while still hunting down the swarms of bugs.
Of course, if improving my control was that easy, I would have done so already. I’ll need to figure out a way to push it to the next level.
“Solvei.” I jerk away from Grímr’s voice to my side.
“Stop doing that!” I say, embarrassed at being caught off guard. “You’re back early. I didn’t expect you for at least another week.” Not that I’m complaining.
Grímr drops the cloud of black around him. He looks exhausted. Now that I think about it, he must have been moving incredibly quickly to catch up to me while I was running.
“The mermineae.” He pauses for a breath. “They’ve reached the exit.”
I’ve been down here for months. Thankfully, I never got caught in the middle of the fight between giants. In as long as I’ve been travelling through this cavern, not once have I seen the giant centipede afterwards. While the arachnids will often drop on the creatures after they get swarmed by the uncountable bugs, the battle between giants was a once off.
It’s surprising how common it is to find bats or the residents of the shadows trying to get a feed from the fungi traps only to find themselves as paste under the giant arachnids massive weight. I catch sight of it at least once a week on my journey.
After burning my way through hundreds of the fungi tubes, it has become routine. Despite the immense strength they show and the instinctual fear I feel in their presence, the arachnids are predictable. Not once have they acted different to what I’ve come to expect. They always react to bright flashes of light and chase it down. They will usually ignore flashes of less illuminating light, but will chase it down, regardless, if it stays lit long enough.
I may have done some experimenting once I’d become more comfortable with their predictability. In the hidden depths of a fungi trap, I’d had a flame bloom far above until an arachnid attacked.
My goal had been to see if explosively enhanced flame could damage its body. I might have been trying to push above my level, but after all the energy I’d been raking in from the glow-bugs, I wanted to see if I could take on something bigger.
Of course, I never should have been hopeful. Even at the hottest temperature, my flame could not scorch a single thin hair.
Engulfed in flame as it had been, it never changed its actions. It tried to dig to me, so I simply dropped deeper into the tunnels below. Despite the terror its screeches inflict upon me, I treat the monstrosity as nothing more than a nuisance or an obstacle to avoid.
Because of the arachnid’s inflexibility, I’ve become so accustomed to detonating the fungi tubes that I’ve been able to increase the number I hit per day to fifteen. I can leave the safety of my hole only a few minutes after it gives up digging without worrying that it’ll come after me.
The only thing that takes time anymore, is running the distance to the next mushroom trap. While I don’t think there is any true pattern to the layout of the tubes, they always grow about the same distance away from each other, so it is always easy to find the next. Just run in the direction I need to travel and veer off whenever I notice the strange behaviour of the glow-bugs. It’s no more difficult than that.
The immediate benefit of constantly eating these nutrition intense bugs is that I always have the energy to push on. I need far less sleep than normal and I can run almost non-stop at my top speed without issue. It’s not even close to the speed I can reach with flight, but it’s something.
I don’t need to be running as much as I have been. The merminea Grímr and I have been tailing aren’t in any rush to get through the tunnels. But sprinting around lets me gorge myself as much as possible.
It’s insane how far the Alps extend. I’m sure I would have ran Zadok Kingdom’s length twice over by now. Maybe even three times. And yet, the merminea have shown no sign of rising to the surface, according to Grímr.
It feels like every visit from him is getting further and further separated. I always look forward to his return. It’s the only time that is broken up by the monotony of running and detonating.
Hmm… maybe monotony is the wrong word. I really enjoy blowing up those fungi tunnels.
Disappointingly, even with all the energy I’ve gained in the past weeks, my fire has only gotten a bit hotter than what the explosive jelly could reach. It’s a significant improvement over what I could do, but my flame is still a bright yellow rather than anything more impressive. I was really hoping to at least come near the blue hued flame Elder Cyrus sometimes showed off, but I’m not even close. Instead, the amount of flame I can influence has exploded.
It’s hard to measure my capabilities as many factors influence the strength or intensity of my flames in any circumstance, but using a general standard can help track my improvement. Where before I could probably have filled a five metre radius sphere of flame for an hour before exhausting myself, I could now fill almost fifty metres for the same time. At least, that’s how it feels. I’ve hardly had the chance to experiment except when exploding the fungi trap.
The range at which I can control has stretched farther from my body as well. I never truly had a maximum distance, but the further my flame is from my body, the harder it is to influence. Before, ten metres would have been my effective maximum for full control. Further than that, the flame would react with less precision until about a hundred metres, where I’d only be able to feel the flame.
This is, of course, assuming that my fire is isolated. Should my flame rocket out two hundred metres, I would still have been able to feel through it and control it to some extent.
Now, my range has multiplied near tenfold.
I’m almost certain none in my tribe had a range as far as what mine has become. Elder Cyrus definitely had the widest, but his effective range wouldn’t have been over fifty metres. I’m already double that.
The range has made searching the lower tunnels almost easy. Even if I don’t travel down there often, I can just send out a wave of flame and I can see all the branching tunnels.
Another change I’ve noticed since my energy has exploded in strength, is that I can feel sources of heat in the cavern. As long as they are within my effective range, I can feel the temperature of the bats. No other creature down here seems to give off any heat, but it explains that odd feeling I had when the mermineae ambushed us.
While before, it was subdued. Now, I’m able to make out individual limbs from the thermal sense. If I’d realised what I’d sensed back then was the heat of a warm-blooded creature, then my team might’ve never gotten into this situation.
The wave of flame I sent through the tunnels didn’t reveal any sign of the mermineae. Hopefully, I haven’t wondered off track without noticing. I’ve already been stuck down here far longer than I ever wanted to. Only the promise of an exit has halted me from doing anything excessive.
Should I have any reason to believe those I’m following don’t actually have a way out, there is no doubt in my mind that the tangle of my psyche will push me to do something drastic. Even though it is almost a death sentence, it might even push me to fly to the ceiling, relying on the chance that I won’t die from the impact before the monstrosities tear through the two layers of enhanced stone.
I last met with Grímr only a week ago, so there isn’t anything for me to worry about as of yet.
Beside my — numerous — gorging sessions, I’ve made time to look into the shadows that hide both the blind-lizards and pseudo-scorpions. Other creatures hide within many of them, but none have been much of a challenge. Beating them with my spear has been easy.
Well, except one. But that never attacked back, so I was given free rein to use its shell as strength practice for my spear. Even after months, I’m yet to pierce it.
My technique has improved immensely. After that first fight with the pseudo-scorpion, I have kept my outfit from tearing much more. There is a tear over my chest and my other glove is gone, but the rest is still mostly intact.
On the other hand, the amount of force I can push into my thrusts and swings has stagnated. Actually, I think with the amplified energy within me, my control has worsened. Any improvements or gains from practising my spear and control every day are offset by how far my capacity has grown.
Now that I think about it, how did the amount of my flame increase so drastically without the temperature following suit? I’d always been told it would grow naturally along with my capacity. Is that wrong?
My circumstances are extremely unique. I am very aware that my recent growth is not natural, so is that why my heat is lagging? Or do I have to figure out the proper method to increase it?
It’s improved to the same temperature the explosive jam used to push it to, which should be just enough to fight against the mermineae. I’m worried that it still won’t be enough to fight against the more enhanced of their race. At the very least, I hope the expanse my inner flame can now cover will be enough of a smokescreen to let my team escape.
I detonate another tube of explosive jelly and relax into the heat as the heavy thuds pound through the earth. At this point, I could just cast out my fire to reach for the glow-bugs myself, but I enjoy the extra boost the substance gives my flame.
Even after all this growth, I’ve settled into a loop of doing the same thing every day. After looking down on the arachnids for their predictable actions, I’ve gone and become the same. Well, I’ve not changed my actions simply because they are so effective. I hardly have to worry when I’ve done the same action a thousand times prior, but becoming complacent isn’t doing me any favours.
But… how can I increase the number of bugs I’m consuming without putting myself at immense risk of retaliation from the giant centipede or arachnids? I already leave immediately after the arachnid stops trying to dig me out, but maybe I can increase my running speed somehow. A way to know for sure which direction the next fungi trap is would be nice too, but I’m not sure how to approach that.
If I can apply extra strength to my spear strikes by focusing on my control, then I should be able to do a similar thing with my running, right?
As I climb out of the crater that used to be the top of the mushroom tunnel, I push into a run. First, I try to increase my physicality. Rather than speeding me up, it does the opposite. With my control at the limit, it makes me feel like I’m pushing against a strong wind compared to before.
From the obvious negative results, I change up my approach. I still need to be careful not to become visible, so I pull back on my body until my flames are on the border of emitting light. I’m sure this point between physical and not looks strange; the surface of my body ever so slightly flickers, but the light usually partnered does not appear. Nobody looking at me closely would mistake me for an albanic now.
My eyes glow when I’m like this, but it isn’t any more intense than the surrounding bugs’ light.
I’m faster than usual, but not by much. As I transition between the two states, I notice that while I don’t feel like I’m pushing against a wall anymore, I can’t push the same amount of strength into my legs. Is this a balance thing? Do I have to figure out the sweet spot between the extra strength I get from more weight against how much that weight works against me?
I play around with my control for the time being. There isn’t anything else I need to worry about until I reach the next fungi trap. My weight changes back and forth, but it seems I was wrong; there is no ‘sweet spot’. Only reducing my weight seems to increase my speed.
That is… until an idea passes through my mind.
I come to a halt, dropping my shoulders and tilting my head back. Why didn’t I think of this weeks ago?
I run again. This time I keep my upper body on the verge of flames, but solidify my legs to the most I can push them. It makes controlling my body harder, as I have to split my focus away from just keeping a grip on my form, but it’s manageable.
My speed increases by a good twenty percent over my previous maximum.
Why did I never think to split my focus to different parts of my body? It’s not like I didn’t know I could do so; I’ve changed my hands into claws without changing the rest of my body. Whatever. I know I can now. I should be able to improve my spearmanship again with this.
As I run, I experiment with the most effective distribution of control. Quickly, I find that I can’t push my body to the same maximum mass with my mind split between so many areas. It doesn’t matter so much for running, but I can imagine it might become a problem when using my weapon. The more weight I can put behind my spear, the better, after all.
As obviously beneficial as this is, it does nothing but make me want to change my form. If I don’t have to worry about the light I give off when not in my standard form, I could extend the length of my legs to give me a longer stride or lengthen my arms for better reach. Wait, Bunny taught me to use the spear in my default shape, but why do I need to keep the same form as her? Could I not just grow an extra set of arms and use two spears?
So many ideas to explore. So many I can’t because of the monstrosities I’ll attract doing so. If I want to experiment with these improvements, I’ll need to spend more time in the tunnels underneath. Doing so will cut into the amount of bugs I can consume, though.
The solution is simple, and yet difficult. I need to improve my control so that I can hide my flame even with a morphed body. This will solve almost all my problems; I’ll be able to fly again, increase the force behind my spear and give me the opportunity to practice and try new things, all while still hunting down the swarms of bugs.
Of course, if improving my control was that easy, I would have done so already. I’ll need to figure out a way to push it to the next level.
“Solvei.” I jerk away from Grímr’s voice to my side.
“Stop doing that!” I say, embarrassed at being caught off guard. “You’re back early. I didn’t expect you for at least another week.” Not that I’m complaining.
Grímr drops the cloud of black around him. He looks exhausted. Now that I think about it, he must have been moving incredibly quickly to catch up to me while I was running.
“The mermineae.” He pauses for a breath. “They’ve reached the exit.”
