NOVEL NEXT Chapter 32: Flying in All Directions
Dominic didn’t know what had just happened. One moment he had been holding onto the warthog’s head with front paws and teeth, his back paws gouging out its throat. The next, he was flying through the air.
Colliding painfully with the wall - again - he dropped a good couple of metres to the ground, landing badly. More than half of his remaining health was wiped out in an instant, leaving just a bare sliver remaining.
He’d have been alarmed if the sense hadn’t just been completely knocked out of him too. Through bleary eyes, the lion looked towards the warthog. It was going crazy, jinking about with hooves, tusks, and tail flying in all directions. Perhaps it was the knock to his head speaking, but it seemed faster, stronger, even bigger. The impact of its trotters as it leaped in the air and landed heavily on the ground seemed to be felt even where Dominic lay.
The pulsing bar above its head with a small fraction of health seemed like it should mean something to him, but his mind was too foggy with pain and recent injury to make sense of it. And then the situation went from bad to worse.
The warthog suddenly caught sight of the downed lion. Its maddened piggy eyes fixed themselves on him and with a sense of dismay, Dominic realised that it was planning on charging.
Forcing his addled mind to work, he desperately searched for a way out. Some way of avoiding its attack. The few health points that remained to him were not enough to withstand being trampled once again. But he couldn’t move. Couldn’t even roll over to deflect its feet.
His progress to the next level hadn’t changed; there was no last-minute save coming from there. He’d already consumed his only health potion - he wouldn’t have lasted this long without it.
Out of ideas, Dominic could only stare at his death as it approached, regret and grief filling him. So much for travelling the length of Africa to find his dad. So much for regaining his human form. He would die here, an unmourned lion. Ah well, he said to himself as the warthog started to thunder towards him. I was living on borrowed time, anyway.
Some said that one’s life flashed before one’s eyes in the last moments before death. That wasn’t what Dominic was experiencing. Instead, it was the contents of his inventory. It felt like a one in a million chance, but wasn’t this the time for that sort of thing.
Focusing even through the pain wracking his body, he made his move. And then it was in the hands of the gods.
Despite himself, he couldn’t keep his eyes open and watch the wall of death come to sweep him away. In the blackness, he braced himself for pain and then…nothing.
He felt an impact slide him backwards and squish him up against the wall. The position exacerbated his previous wounds, robbing him of what little breath he was able to force into his spasming lungs. And then…nothing.
No, not nothing. Something flashed up in front of his still-closed eyes.
[You have killed Warthog Guardian (Evolved Beast level 10)]
[You have earned 65 PP]
Shock robbed him once more of his ability to think, but his eyes flickered open without needing his command. Dark brown leathery skin a fraction of an inch in front of his eyes was what he saw. It was unmoving.
Pull yourself together, he castigated himself, urgency breaking through the numbness of shock. You’re not dead - keep it that way! Given that he was squished up against the wall by what he now realised was the warthog’s bulk, he was in a perfect position to save himself.
[Would you like to consume this body for resources?]
Yes! he exclaimed frantically, not knowing exactly how many health points remained in his own bar, but being certain that it was far too few. It would just be Murphy’s law for him to expire even as he absorbed the health he needed.
Fortunately, Murphy must have been off duty because a few seconds later, Dominic was no longer trapped against the wall and was feeling significantly better. The single body of the warthog gave Dominic more than a third of his health bar back, and almost half of his stamina.
His wounds weren’t all healed, but they were significantly better, even the stab wound in his side feeling less deep. It still hurt, though. No worries, Dominic thought to himself, relief and a sense of victory combining to create an ebullient elation that rose inside him to make him feel almost giddy. I can level up now. Because when he’d only needed thirteen Prey Points to level up, the sixty-five he’d just earned was guaranteed to be sufficient.
But first, he took a few moments to - literally - lick his wounds, using the soothing motion to calm the jittery nerves that were making him shake. Despite the flashes of pain that happened when his rough tongue caught on the edges of a cut, the sense of serenity that covered him like a warm blanket as his fur was cleaned and arranged back into place was enough to make up for it.
While he cleaned himself, he thought. This time, he didn’t let himself drop into morose grief; instead, he thought about the abrupt end of the battle. I almost died, he told himself. But I didn’t. Why didn’t I? It wasn’t that he was complaining; it was just a bit of a surprise.
Moving up his leg from his foot to his shoulder, he thought back to the final couple of minutes. He’d been winning…until he had suddenly been flying through the air. His eyes narrowing unconsciously, he started to put the pieces together.
The warthog’s bar was flashing and pretty low when I saw it. And it was like it had gone into some sort of boosted state. Rage, perhaps. What if it was another phase? It made logical sense, didn’t it? The warthog had had a regeneration of health when it hit half health. What if when its health hit a quarter, or maybe even a tenth, it had triggered another phase?
It would explain why suddenly the boss had gained the strength to lift him bodily from the ground with only its head. And with half of its neck muscles torn to ribbons - mustn’t forget that. Fortunately for me, it didn’t regenerate its health again, Dominic thought grimly.
Its collision with the wall must have been enough to knock out whatever health it had remaining. Fortunately it hadn’t slammed right into the lion or he wouldn’t have been more than bloody paste. Suddenly Dominic felt like grinning. One in a million chance, or what?
Pushing himself to his feet, he started collecting the wave of marble-like meerkat Cores which he’d sent rolling towards the warthog at the last moment. Though he hadn’t seen it happen, he could guess the course of events: the warthog had slid out of control on the little balls, and had - fortunately for Dominic - been oh so slightly pushed off course. Resulting in it meeting the wall head-first, and Dominic only being nudged by the rest of its body pile-driving into the same spot.
It felt like it should have been more mentally challenging than Dominic thought it was - to know just how close he had got to death. But perhaps he was getting used to it. He’d been near death several times in the last few days, after all. Or perhaps the lion brain was once more responsible for his somewhat blasé attitude: for an animal, death is just part of life. It’s only humans who try to pretend it’s not a 100% certainty.
Better question, Dominic thought to himself, ignoring such existential questions as well as he possibly could, is what first: level up or loot? Because there had to be loot after a boss fight like that. He’d collected all the mini-Cores which he’d emptied from his inventory, or at least all which were easily detectable - he wasn’t going to go searching for meerkat cores in all the corners of the room. For now, the area looked clear and that was enough for him.
Actually, that was another question. Where’s the warthog’s Core? he wondered, looking around for it. He’d definitely like whatever ability allowed the warthog to regenerate its health points upon hitting half health. Assuming that was an ability, anyway. Perhaps it was just something specific to dungeon bosses.
Dominic’s lips curled as he realised that the Core was nowhere to be found. That’s not fair, he grumped. I fought hard for that! Sighing, he returned his attention to his question.
It was a hard choice. Although the utility of the loot he’d received so far was a bit mixed, he couldn't deny that even the ‘boring’ health potion had been a literal life-saver. His gorget hadn’t really saved his life, exactly, but it had helped deflect some of the warthog’s strikes at his neck. Besides, the extra-dimensional space more than made up for any lack of true armour - if it had been a collar instead of a gorget, he’d still have worn it for that alone.
He also really wanted to level up, especially since something else hadn’t escaped his notice: the message which had flashed up to notify him of the warthog’s death. Unlike the strongest trodil mini-boss, which had been a level 7 ‘Half-step Evolved Beast’, the warthog had been a full-blown Evolved Beast at level 10. Which led Dominic to the following conclusions.
Either dungeon beasts were different in some way from normal beasts, and gained their Evolved status sooner, or the System didn’t fully understand the meaning of ‘half’. Trying to temper his excitement, Dominic looked at the situation logically.
The level 5 trodil hadn’t been a Half-step Evolved Beast; the level 6 had. That meshed with Dominic’s own experience. As a result, he dared to eliminate option one from consideration. Which meant…I’m going to hit the next tier on my upcoming level? The excitement he’d tried to push away overwhelmed him. It was all he could do not to just go for the level up straight away.
Maybe I should check my loot first, though? There might be something there which affects whatever choice or choices I’m going to have to make? It was almost painful to admit, but Dominic reluctantly decided that that might be the best option. Besides, he’d always been the kind of person who wanted to savour his pleasures, leaving the best for last.
Loot first, it is. Heading towards the altar, Dominic took in the statue on top of it properly. The statue almost reminded him of Stitch from the old film Lilo and Stitch. Or like a strange amalgamation of a house elf and a gremlin.
It had large, blank eyes, with no indication of any pupil or iris. Its ears were large and not dissimilar from sails sticking out of the side of its head. Its head was round and large, its nose long and pointy. It was baring its teeth at the onlooker, crouched protectively around a large and glowing orb. Its fingers were long and clawed, cupped around that same orb, as if it wished to stop anyone from taking it. Its body was pot-bellied, though little more could be glimpsed beyond that, its robe-like clothes pooling around its form. The feet poking out from under the hems of the robe were also clawed and furry, no shoes to be seen.
Eyeing it, Dominic hoped that it wasn’t going to suddenly come to life like those statues in the other room had. Walking around the altar, Dominic tried to spot a chest with his loot in it. He wasn’t sure whether the fact that the altar hadn’t moved like the ones in the trap rooms had was a good thing or bad.
On the one hand, it might indicate that this altar was the real deal rather than a fake. On the other, it could mean that he hadn’t yet actually defeated the dungeon….
After circling the altar twice, and taking a few minutes to inspect the rest of the room, Dominic sighed and returned to his original position in front of the statue. I guess I have no choice. Please don’t spring to life and scratch my eyes out, he pleaded with the statue. Then, not allowing himself to hesitate any longer, he reared up and placed his front paws firmly on its surface.