Accidental Healer-Chapter 127 - 41 - A crown for Tavion

The corrupted mana spawn heaved and tramped awkwardly toward the waiting catkin, their misshaped unnatural frames disrupting any attempts at conventional movements.

On paper, this anomaly should've challenged the catkin more than the former had. It was six levels higher than the first, which is nothing to sneeze at. Only, so far, everything pointed to it being much easier. Even if I wasn't here to provide my powerful defensive spells I doubt there would've been any losses.

For one, the catkins were on a totally different level mentally, deploying basic strategy, as opposed to what Mischief described as "crazed idiocy" in the first anomaly. Combine that with the less then optimal builds of the mana spawn and it was a recipe for a quick victory. Which suited me just fine.

Tranquility rested easily in her scabbard at my side, my arms folded as I surveyed the battleground. I shivered, and a prickle ran up my spine. It was the same prickle I always felt when my faction grew stronger. I focused my attention on Bracken.

"He's getting better with his sword." I thought out loud after a particularly impressive upward swipe cleaved the forearm from a spliced badger turtle hybrid.

"It's not like he could've gotten worse." Mischief responded dryly. "You should let him practice with you."

I raised an eyebrow. "Why Mischief, if you're not careful someone might accuse you of caring."

"I don't want him to embarrass me." He huffed.

"Uh-huh."

It was nice to see this side of Mischief. I mean sure, the two of us had shared our own sentimental moments and I trusted the murder cat with my life, but it felt good to see him taking responsibility over the catkin. And even though he wouldn't outright admit it, I could see that he cared about Bracken and the others by the way he watched them. More than once I caught him nodding approvingly at a particularly well deployed skill or attack, especially Bracken.

Actually, we were both watching Bracken pretty closely today.

He was level 24, and if we were right, this was the battle he was going to reach his first evolution. And if the goosebumps on my arms were any indication, I wouldn't be all that far behind with evolving my own second class.

By now, the catkin had really thinned the tide of mana spawn and Bracken was facing off against a particularly giant moose monster. Thankfully it wasn't another porcupine moose, but it was its own special brand of disfigured.

Bracken raised his sword gripping the hilt in both hands and rushed the beast.

It wasn't much of a fight. The moose lowered its head and antlers in a vain attempt to slow the incoming attack. Bracken didn't even bother using a skill, he simply sidestepped the antlers and brought the sword down.

The strike wasn't as clean as I would've expected, but the katana buried itself deep into the exposed neck of the moose. It hadn't even come close to decapitating it.

Still, the display of constitution and strength was impressive on the part of the moose but it also explained its complete lack of mobility in comparison to Bracken. The Catkin pried the sword loose, and in no time the moose was a mess of detached flesh and patchy red fur.

The pitiful creature bellowed a deep mournful cry—then its strength failed it and it dropped onto its knees. Bracken stood over the body of the moose, katana held to his side, blood falling in droplets. He stepped forward, rested the tip of the sword tip into the heaving chest of the fallen beast, set his feet, and plunged the iron deep.

Head and antlers sagged the final fumes of life flitting out. Bracken rested a hand on the now still chest of the monster, eyes closed, head bowed.

Mischief and I leaned in on baited breath.

And then, Bracken began to change.

First came the shift in color. Burnt orange faded into hues of ashy greys that blended gently into deep forest greens at his forearms and calves. At his head, close cropped sleek hair, grew into a thick flowing mane of the same ashen grey of his chest.

The rest of the transformation wasn't quite as dramatic. Bracken's powerful frame filled out just a touch more, with broader shoulders and slightly more height.

By the end, Bracken's mane was reminiscent of an old time trapper who just returned from a long hunting expedition. The moose's corpse evaporated, and Bracken stood sucking in a deep gulp of air. His eyes opened searching briefly, before finding and locking onto Mischief.

Like Bracken, I shifted to face my friend. And what I found might as well have been something from a painting.

Mischief sat, chest and head held high, eyes glowing with pride. In that moment, Mischief was more than just my friend, more than a mountain lion, he was Mischief the progenitor, he was Mischief leader of Catkin.

He was Mischief—father of the Shadowborn.

***

"This is really not what we needed right now, Enora." Jared grumbled, rubbing the bleariness from his eyes. "Nick go over it again. What exactly happened?"

Nick grinned and folded his arms. "Well…it all started when Layton, our brave and wise leader, personally assigned me on an important secret mission."

"Right, right, he asked you to listen in on the immigrated factions, I'm well aware." He stated matter of factly, pointing at the two dark elves sitting in chains. "But can you give me a little more detail then 'you caught a couple of ungrateful backstabbing grey people up to no good?'"

Nick shot Jared an indignant look.

"Make up your mind old man. Last time I was here, graciously illuminating you with my findings you told me and I quote 'learn to get to the point'."

"Nick I hardly think a creepy bug eyed owl following you around is on quite—" Jared cut off, and took a deep calming breath. "Alright, alright, just start from where you followed these two into the woods."

"Well, it's like you said. I noticed these two dark elves here slink away from the rest of the group, and I thought to myself. Huh, they seem awfully suspicious. So I trusted my instinct and followed them. By the time I arrived they were already talking. Something about Enora, Durkil and Alex but I only caught the last part."

"What about us?" Alex interrupted.

"Like I said." Came the terse response. "I only caught the tail end, but it was something about how the two of you always follow her around like little puppies."

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

Alex's face flushed and the wood floor creaked as Durkil shifted uncomfortably glancing awkwardly down at the stunning dark elf woman. Nick smiled mischievously at Alex and continued.

"Then they got talking about the interesting part. First that tall one said 'we need to make plans' and then the ugly one said 'what plans? Teklen is already dead' and then he said 'but that was only ever the beginning'." Nick sucked in a long dramatic breath. "Theeennn the tall one was like, we just need to get rid of the healer and the short one was like uhhh I don't know about that

but that one was like it'll be fine, and the short one said, but wait what about the others like Alex, Durkil and the lightning Wizard? And I was like uhhh hey I think your forgetting someone but I only said that in my head, and the tall one was like oh they'll probably join us once the healer is dead and the short one said what about the shadow cat and the other guy said we made it up to scare them and that's when I popped up and I was like. Boomm! I think you're forgetting someone bitches! And here we are."

Nick concluded, opening his hands out triumphantly. The subjects of his long winded monologue glowered up at him.

"Tavion…" Enora gasped. "Were you really planning to kill Teklen?"

Nick raised a finger. "He was."

Enora ignored Nick. "Tavion?"

Tavion refused to meet Enora's accusing stare, but kept his chin raised proudly glaring up and through an open air window in the cabin.

"How could you? That man was like a father to you…"

"I—didn't know that part." Nick added, lowering his finger.

"Nick."

"Yes Alex?"

"Shut up."

Nick did "shut up", pursing his lips, and awkwardly faded to the back of the room. Enora stepped toward Tavion and Norso, hurt and confusion etched across the furrows in her brow.

"Why do this?"

Tavion straightened his back, but said nothing.

"Norso?"

"What do you want to hear, Enora? Teklen was just a means to an end, ambition clouded my judgement." Chains rattled and Norso shifted to face Jared. "I won't deny the accusations, we did plot against your faction."

Tavion peeled his eyes from the window. The truth was, Tavion had never really considered Norso a true friend, or even an equal. It was a friendship based on mutual needs. Afterall, what was a king without subjects? And for years, the dynamic suited them both, Tavion had his lackey, and Norso had his connections.

But now? Tavion could hardly restrain the contempt oozing from his pores.

The scales had been tipped, and once they had Norso had been the one to abandon him.

It shouldn't be this way, Tavion should be the one disposing of him.

"You've never been anything but a worm, Norso."

"That's all you have to say?" Enora asked dumbfounded. "You have no regrets? Layton at least saved you the dishonour of murdering a man who showed you nothing but love, and then to show your gratitude you conspired against him? Who is the worm, Tavion?"

As if from nowhere, a ball of swirling liquid materialized between Enora and Tavion.

Jared's eyes bulged and he reached out a hand. "Enora—"

But he was too late, the ball flattened into a disk and shot out like a bullet. Tavion didn't even have time to react.

Nobody so much as flinched. Dark black hair dropped to the floor, and a crown of red no wider than a string of floss appeared on Tavion's forehead. Red droplets formed along the line like red beads of sweat on a summer day. The dark elf's chin fell slack, and he drooped lower and lower in his chair until gravity claimed him and he tumbled sideways onto the hardwood, the top part of his skull sliding free.

Jared covered his face.

"Layton is not going to like this…"

***

The third and final wave of corrupted anomalies was essentially just a showcase for Bracken to demonstrate his new evolution, Briar claw Shadowborn.

True to those born into Mischief's lineage the class was potent and built around one thing—terrorizing the enemy.

Chords of thin green vines erupted from the loamy soil coiling like serpents around the unsuspecting legs of his victims. I frowned as vines wrapped several times around the foot of a mana spawn shaped roughly like a badger, it snarled revealing rows of daggers like fangs, and in a single motion ripped the vines from the earth.

Bracken didn't panic though, he kited the badger using the skill again, and like before the badger snarled but pulled free of the vines. The scene repeated itself several more times and I began to wonder how many times Bracken needed to see the skill in action before he had a taste of its utility.

But then I noticed a change. It was subtle, easy to dismiss at first but now that I was aware of it, it was as plain as day.

The badger was wearing down. In fact it was getting so worn down that when the next vine coiled around his leg and he went to rip it free the vine held firm. The badger pulled and fought ripping and tearing at the chorded plant but his efforts were no longer to free his captured limb.

Intrigued, I leaned in closer to watch what would happen next.

Bracken waited patiently and the vine slowly crept higher and higher up the badger's back right leg. After several seconds of trying to pull itself free, it finally seemed to realize its futility and was about to change tactics when another vine crept up latching onto its forearm.

Acting on a hunch, I started counting in my head while the mana spawn below wrestled awkwardly against the two sets of vines holding it in place from both sides.

12..13…14

Right at fifteen seconds a third vine joined the fray and I started counting again. Fifteen seconds passed and a fourth vine was summoned. By this point the badger was able to little more than squirm as the vines did their job as the fifth vine found the throat. Bracken didn't wait for the inevitable and moved to his next target, allowing the spell to complete its morbid task of choking the life from badger.

"Did that fight seem a bit weird to you?" I asked Mischief. His response was immediate.

"The vines have toxins."

I nodded, Mischief confirming my suspicion. I mean it made sense, especially with a class name like Briar Claw. By now, over half the badger's lifeless body was obscured by slowly creeping vines.

"Doesn't really seem like a great way to go out." I mused, feeling a twinge of guilt.

If I thought that was tough to watch, the fight with the champion was even worse.

Most of the corrupted mana spawn were a crude combination of two different woodland creatures, and even those were hard to look at.

The horror that Bracken faced now put them all to shame.

Hundreds of legs, heads, wings, tails and torso's all smashed together like a giant went to a zoo and began crushing animals together like they were playdough. There were no legs, no arms, no obvious main head to be found. Skin peeled back at the fusion points revealing bones and organs of the animals.

A chorus of howls and bleats assaulted the peaceful fall night, accompanied by a sickly sweet smell of rotting flesh, no doubt from the sinews being exposed to open air.

If the monstrosity had any skills or spells to speak of it didn't seem capable of deploying them.

Bracken circled cautiously, possibly not ready to accept the champion of this dungeon was just a pile of rotting meat. While he circled, root after root reached from the soil as if to drag the revolting thing directly to its earthy grave.

When the ball of animals did nothing to prevent the creeping vines, Bracken seemed satisfied enough to hasten his work. In a few bounding leaps he landed atop the squirming moaning bodies and began to hack away at it with his sword.

I covered my mouth with the back of my hand, but didn't look away. Flesh flew in chunks with each swing of his katana. A katana that I now realized was coated in some kind of green liquid, no doubt another skill from Bracken's evolution as a Briar Claw.

The fight didn't last long, and the corrupted champion never did fight back. It just died—slowly and painfully.

My chest felt tight, but I kept one hand on tranquility and consoled myself that what Bracken was doing actually was a mercy.

Despite not being an offensive threat, the corrupted champion didn't go down easy.

A circle of blood surrounded Bracken's nest of bodies when the prompt finally arrived.

Congratulations - You have successfully cleared the corrupted mana spawn and defeated their champion.

Rewards are based on contributions…contributions calculated.

Rewards: 2,500 experience for the entire party within the anomaly. Leather boots (rare quality, upgradeable)

Level Up!

You may now choose an evolved class.