"Kieeegh!"
The Manananggal screams, its voice eerily similar to that of a young woman. The hunter being targeted winces as they sidestep the swooping monster, their blade ripping a jagged tear in the Manananggal's left wing.
A sickly purple liquid oozes from the wound for just a moment before it closes, the fluid taking on the properties of the tissues surrounding it in order to mend the wing completely. The half a moment without proper lift sends the monster into the ground regardless of how quickly the wound was healed, though.
Before it is able to recover, the hunters collectively set upon it, using their own bodyweight to hold it down. The Manananggal howls and thrashes, but is ultimately unable to shake the weight of three full grown men.
"Now, Alrond!" One of them shouts, seemingly familiar with an ability of his. The veteran hunter nods grimly, quickly opening the tattered rucksack he's been carrying all this while. From within the darkness of the bag, eight yellow eyes reflect the flickering lantern-light.
"Come, Arme, let's catch us a monster." He gently coos at the companion monster within the bag, getting an excited chirp in reply.
A spider-monster, easily the size of a cat, emerges from the battered sack, its torso raised high to let its abdomen have free aim at the Manananggal.
"NOW!" Alrond shouts, and at once the three hunters throw themselves off the abomination. Dazed and confused, the Manananggal has no time to react before it's covered in a layer of sticky web.
In mere moments, it has managed to tie itself up perfectly simply by getting increasingly tangled in the sticky threads. Heaving for breath, it desperately whips its sole free appendage about, to no avail since everyone has removed themselves from its reach.
"I didn't know you had an assistant, Alrond." I say, trying to act nonchalant as I carefully approach the fuming Manananggal. In fact, I'm freaking out about how reckless the hunters were. Weren't they told of the true nature of this monster?
"I keep her out of sight by habit. Even among us hunters, there are those with a particular dislike of Arachnoids." Alrond admits as he fishes out a treat for Arme.
"It's a sad truth-" I begin, but just then the Mananangal suddenly lashes out, its tongue somehow having gained the elasticity to reach me. Without thinking, nor remembering my supposed role as a normal Scoutmaster, I use my bare hand to deflect the strike.
A strange sound, reminiscent of the twang of a stretched rubber band, issues as the tongue and my hand connects. Any momentum the tongue had is reversed, sending it straight back at the Manananggal. A shiver runs through the monster, before it stops moving.
No, no-no-no-
I scramble to quickly finish the tracing of the true body, fully focusing my magic sight onto the quickly degrading body. Bile rises in my throat as I do, the magic the Manananggal is emitting looking more like an angry person has scribbled black crayon in a jagged line.
It is entirely unlike the smooth and translucent bands of magic I'm used to. Even Dungeon Hearts look nothing like this.
I fall to my knees, fighting the instinctive revulsion. The other hunters gather around me with worry.
*Trace complete. The true body of the abomination is now able to be tracked with the map.*
Ah- It won't interfere with you?
I was fully prepared to be cut off from World Knowledge again, but that was a risk I had to take.
*The way tracking works is by tuning in on the unique frequency each living being hums with. Their very existence warps the surrounding magic ever so slightly. Sort of how sharks use their ampulae of Lorenzini to detect the electric currents given off by other living organisms.*
आप पढ़ रहे हैं
Reincarnated as a random race, of course I got goblin.
काल्पनिकAfter falling to my death due to poor maintenance on a viewing platform over a ravine, I find myself having an audience with God. In return for my untimely demise (that ended up saving the lives of a huge group of tourists) I am reincarnated into a...
