Duskbound

They didn't precisely work together, but now that Velik knew Torwin was nearby, [Apex Hunter] got a lot less twitchy about him. Neither of them slept much, but when they did, it was obvious that their schedules were incompatible. Velik worked at night to take full advantage of his racial subtype. Torwin preferred to get up just before dawn, right around the time Velik was starting to wind down.

"Does the bonus really offset the handicap of working in the dark that much?" the old hunter asked. "I've been pushing through the night trying to catch up to you, and I don't mind saying that moving through unfamiliar terrain rife with monsters this strong is stressful."

"I'm half again as strong and fast when the sun's down and I can see in the dark already," Velik said.

"Half?" Torwin repeated. "That's… preposterous. No one's racial subtype boosts them that much!"

"I didn't make the rules. I just know how it works."

"Morgus save me, no wonder it's such a pain to keep up with you at night. Alright, I'll do my best. You'll probably pull ahead of me throughout the night and I'll catch up when you go to ground in the morning. As long as we keep our compasses synced to the same filters, we should be able to leapfrog each other and clear out all these champions until we find wherever they're coming from."

That's a good plan. I can get help removing all these problems so the compass stops pinging off them without actually having to spend time with Torwin.

As far as he was concerned, that was a win-win. Dealing with other people was awkward and difficult. The old man was friendly, but he also wanted something, and Velik couldn't quite figure out what it was. It made it hard to trust him, like Velik was just waiting for a sudden, yet inevitable betrayal.

If not for the fact that he was worried the monsters heading for the towns would grow too powerful in his absence, he might have refused to cooperate with Torwin. It wasn't born out of any sort of greed to keep all the champion seeds for himself, just a general mistrust for the man. Since there was a bit of a clock looming over him, however, he resolved to set aside his personal feelings.

It didn't hurt that Torwin's plan involved very little actual contact between them, and that Jensen was hundreds of miles away.

"I'm going to get a few hours of sleep," Velik said. "Good luck hunting the next champion."

"Thanks," Torwin told him. "Are you sure you don't want me to hang around and keep watch?"

Velik snorted, and after a second, Torwin cracked a smile. "As many thousands of days as it's been now, I don't think this is the time something catches me unaware in my sleep."

* * *

Torwin shook his head in admiration as he walked away. At that age, he'd been firmly entrenched in a new hunting team as a junior member. He could still remember the jolts of fear he'd get every time he heard something moving out in the dark while he was on watch, and that was with five other hunters sleeping nearby.

It was impressive and maybe a bit sad how blasé Velik was about his own survival, but then again, he was right. He'd been sleeping in monster-infested woods for years and was still breathing. His strange night-oriented schedule might help, but then again, it wasn't like there weren't plenty of daylight monsters to be found. In truth, Torwin suspected the kid had a similar skill to his own [Ranger's Foresight] that helped him survive alone in the wilderness.

Putting Velik out of his mind, he peered down at the compass again. There were probably two or three adjustments that could refine the search a bit better, but he wanted his compass to align perfectly with Velik's. That way, they'd both be heading for the same target, at least as long as they stayed within a hundred miles of each other. The plan wasn't perfect, but he figured they could manage that.

There'd been little in the way of monsters to deal with over the last few days. Velik was nothing if not thorough and the more ground Torwin had gained, the less there was to find. He suspected everything he had seen was just monsters moving into empty territories now that their former owners were dead. For the first time since he'd gone after the younger hunter, he was seeing the true scope of the deep wood's infestation.

He shot down a pair of wolves that each had three heads, unleashing a storm of arrows on them with [Hailstrike] to empower them with concussive force. Each arrow sank through the thick pelt and released its payload, wracking the monsters' bodies with bone-breaking waves of energy. Neither survived long enough to take so much as a single step in his direction.

[You have slain a cerberal wolf (level 35).]

[You have slain a cerberal wolf (level 38).]

[You have been awarded 3 decarmas.]

Morgus. This is insane. How are there monsters in the mid-thirties so close to civilization? Is this really all from the boy who took the dungeon seed?

On the bright side, his new bracer enchanted with [Endless Arrows] worked quite well. When he got back to town, he'd have to remember to thank Jensen for inspiring him to purchase one. It wasn't really practical, being more expensive than five thousand real arrows, but there was something to be said for the convenience. His only complaint was that it was slowing down his firing speed with his mystical being too low to produce arrows at the same rate he could draw them from a quiver.

For the moment, he was compensating by alternating one from the quiver every other shot, but Torwin was already considering getting an enchantment added to the bracer to increase his mystic stat as well. Normally, he wouldn't bother with a piece of gear like this, but he didn't have time to recover arrow heads and make new shafts like he normally would, so it was a life-saver for this expedition.

If he got into a truly dangerous fight, he'd just revert back to pulling all his arrows from his quiver like normal. Until then, the magically-produced variety would suffice for hunting monsters that were fifteen or more levels below him. It was too bad that the bracer couldn't stockpile them, being unable to make a new arrow until the first one had fired.

After three hours of hard travel, Torwin came to a field of wildflowers. It might not have seemed so out of place if summer hadn't already started giving way to autumn, but with the weather turning cold, it was obvious there was something magical in the field. His own senses confirmed the mana was thicker, and the compass pointed right to it.

This must be the champion's arena.

Torwin was a veteran of a dozen dungeon clears. He knew that the primary difference between a regular elite and a champion—besides just being tougher and meaner—was that they had a measure of control over the room they fought in. Traps, far-reaching magical effects, and surprise minions were all possibilities he'd have to contend with.

He stood at the edge of the field and studied it for a few minutes, trying to find some pattern in the flowers as they waved back and forth in the gentle mid-morning breeze. What could it signify? Some sort of fairy monster, maybe? Or a swarm of insects? Bees? I suppose I can't rule out a plant-based monster, either. Alright, stop stalling. If the kid can take out these champions by himself, and at a lower level, no less, you can do it, too!

[You have entered the domain of a champion elite: Algorex the Blood Root.]

Plant type, then.

He wasn't three steps into the wildflowers when pollen started puffing out of them in little choking clouds. Torwin immediately dashed forward to clear them, having expected something along the outer edge of the field. Most champions had a way to lock their victims into the arena, and while Torwin wasn't sure if it'd apply in an open field, he wasn't surprised to see a clever solution like this.

About ten feet in, the pollen seemed to hit a glass wall, just as Torwin had expected. Not enough mana to fill the entire field, but I'd bet I can expect some targeted explosions of it on top of me if I don't keep moving.

Up ahead, something broke through the earth. A mound of living dirt rose twenty feet straight up, with dozens of thick roots tearing free from the ground around it to flail about. Torwin didn't slow down or even alter the angle of his dash. He just leaped straight in the air, brought his bow around, and sent the first arrow flying in. [Hailstrike] enhanced it, and when it struck, an explosion of dirt left a raw chunk of plant matter gaping in the open air.

As quickly as the damage had appeared, small, vine-like tendrils snaked across the opening and sealed it off. At the same time, hundreds of bees started filling the air, each one the size of Torwin's thumb. With a grin, he formed a new arrow and imbued it with [Splintershot]. With [Shrapnel] bolstering the ability even further—those two were going to merge together any day now, he was sure—that single arrow killed dozens of the insectoid monsters.

Eight more arrows struck the living mound before Torwin landed and shifted attention to the swarm closing in on him. More pollen clouds puffed up from the flowers around him, but he was gone before they could reach his face. Laughing, Torwin reached for his next arrow.

Kind of fun to do it solo. I can see why Velik likes this.

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