Chapter 176: Worms and Brine

“So, what did we learn about running ahead?” Anna sits next to Trey as I put him back together. There are tears misting the boy’s face, but he doesn’t scream. What a brave kid, indeed.

I stitch him up. Mana threads pull his skin taut before I cast my healing into him. Bofoy is the only one who looks at me with surprise, having now known that I was a healer until now. The zoof stares in surprise, but then turns away and scouts a bit. They’re an informant, after all, so finding out things is kind of their job.

“Got it, sis,” Trey says through gritted teeth. “Won’t… happen again.”

Somehow, I severely doubt the validity of that statement. But Trey is beginning to realize what it’s like to have magic. His skills are just awakening - well, one has, and the other is still in flux. But his first is pretty simple. [Bleed]. If he cuts something, he can make it bleed more.

It’s weak, for now, but that’s okay. After all, he just recently got it to level one. He’s still weak. A floor-born kid who could never take the pilgrimage, because of a cracked core.

Really, in comparison, Anna has done well for herself as a thief. Those weren’t even her original skills - I haven’t asked what she started with. In the same way that no one asks me. I think they assume I must’ve started with healing and [Solidification], since the effects of my two starter skills are a lot more sneaky.

But without me, Trey would have died. 

That’s indisputable. I’ve saved his life twice, once during the fight with [Suppression] and once after with [Biological Restoration]. Not that I make a big note of it. I dragged him in here, so it’s my job to keep everyone alive. 

When he smiles at me and thanks me for healing him, that’s all it is. A job. I nod at him, even as Inu smiles brightly and ruffles his hair. I let her take over handling the kids as I move forward to Bofoy, the quiet zoof who asked to come along as an opportunity.

They’re in their 50s or 60s level-wise, I’m pretty sure, but they’re… frankly, mediocre at fighting. Most of their skills are surveillance or movement based, making them great at running and not much else. That’s fine, though, I don’t need them to fight. That’s what we’re here for, after all.

Isabelle, too, seems eager to carry her weight. There’s a look of determination on the old woman’s face that wasn’t there before. She still hasn’t thanked us. In fact, she’s said shockingly little, but she keeps throwing herself into fights with so much abandon that Sylves and Opal have to fish her out.

She fights with a glaive, and it’s an almost offensively bad weapon, so I enchant it out of frustration more than anything else. From then on, it cuts through the worms much more easily. Which doesn’t change that she wields it poorly, but there’s a sort of dogged persistence to the old woman that I can respect.

So, I decide to save her when she’s about to get eaten by a horde of worms. Also, in part it’s because Jean would indeed be really sad if she died. 

I don’t kill any of the worms for a specific reason. The same reason that I don’t put my new vesselsmithing technique to work, in fact. My mana is still right ahead of the breakpoint. A single level with me investing all my stats will put me over. And I have a bit of a bad feeling about it, so there’s a small plan cooking in my head for now.

Just gotta make it to the safe room.

Which becomes harder when, after three days, we still haven’t found it. 

“Does the booklet have anything on finding floor exits?” Opal asks.

Inu sighs, having read the entire thing, and nods. “Yes,” she says. “They’re usually meant to be easily visible for landmarks.”

When Opal raises an eyebrow at Thatch, he shakes his head. “Nope. Haven’t seen anything.” Despite his [Piercing Gaze] being rather good at scanning through walls. Shame.

“Is it time to start trying bad ideas?” Sylves asks with a smile. She seems almost giddy at the thought.

And, to be fair, a glint runs through my eyes as well. Inu looks at the two of us, and sighs. “Alright, what’s the bad idea?”

I look at the faerie, and our eyes meet. Instantly, we nod. “Okay so what if we ride the worms.”

“Wow, somehow, that’s worse than I thought.”

- - -

[Solidification 25 > 26]

I get another level as I manifest a lot of tiny and bigger bits of mana. For bridles and reins, of course. Sylves spins thread around them. Thread that’s provided by me, again, having learnt from Amelie. I try to make it from mana, and it’s terrible. Brittle and weak, but despite that, Sylves manages to make it work.

With our impromptu riding equipment, we just have to catch a worm. Which is made a lot easier when Inu and I debuff it into stillness. [Suppression] and her void work rather well together to steal someone’s strength and momentum entirely.

So, it only takes us a day or so to find a worm. By then, everyone is tired and grumpy. Isabelle complains about sleeping on a rock floor. Opal complains about having to take watch. Trey complains about not being allowed to do more. And I’m sick of them all.

Which means that when Sylves asks who wants to ride the worm, I raise my hand immediately.

“... Are you sure, Snow?” the fae asks me, smiling crookedly. 

I shrug. “I’m best suited to surviving on my own. And to make it back. I can make a map as I move along. Opal could make it back easiest, but they’ll get lost halfway.”

“So true bestie,” the heroic knight laughs softly, echoing down the tunnels. “Yeah, I’d never see you all again. No shot.”

Snickering softly, Sylves nods, then tightens our very poorly made saddle around the worm’s midsection. It’s little more than blankets made from brittle mana with a strap at the bottom. But it stays in place. The bridle goes into the worm’s mouth… somehow, and the reins go into my hands.

“This is gonna go poorly,” Inu notes with a click of her tongue.

I smile and nod. “Probably. That’s okay though. I’m all set.”

With a soft sigh, the tough girl takes her hand from the worm. The void recedes, and momentum streams back into its motions. Instantly, it tries to buck me off, writhing as it shoots forward through the tunnel.

I cling on, shaping the mana to lock me in place. The motions pull at my legs and whip me all about, making my hair wave through the air, but I stay on.

Then my face slams into a pile of rocks.

“Ow,” I note, as I cast to heal the damage. I’ve just barely fixed the cuts and abrasions when I smack into the wall again. “Hey,” I say to the worm. “Stop being rude.”

In return for its behaviour, I stab the boneburrower.

Of course, it just writhes more. More than once, it drags my face through the wet-salty brine, rubbing it against sharp outcroppings… but it does move through the tunnels. Very swiftly at that, desperately trying to get rid of me. I hold onto the reins very poorly. Sometimes I pull them, but within minutes, the party is out of sight, and I have to focus on keeping a mental map.

[Annexation 4 > 5]

Luckily, my skill proves useful once again. And it’s only thirty or so minutes of having my face slammed into rock and worm stabbing and healing before the thing slows. Instantly, I know why.

The answer is simple. From on top of my completely ruined saddle, I stare down a warren of… about two-hundred worms, I’d guess. “Ah,” I deadpan, blood still trickling down my face from my most recent intimate meeting with a pile of stones. “This might be bad.”