[Chapter 204. The Petrific Womb]

Slowly, with the coiled grace of an predator, she made her descent into the lightless depths of the earth. She brought out her self-made magitech lantern only as the natural light from the surface entrance faded and then vanished into absolute blackness. The steep, downward tunnel was carved from hard-packed earth, the air growing incredibly thick and heavy with every single step she took.

Occasional thick roots looking exactly like the petrified veins of some buried titan pierced the jagged tunnel walls. Their twisted forms reached out blindly like skeletal hands in the lantern's light, as if desperately trying to drag her into the dirt with them. Her footfalls were silent, a flawless ease that spoke volumes of the countless hours of training she had undergone for her Lord's perfectionist gaze.

The claustrophobic tunnel itself was far too narrow to properly wield her Eldritch Zweihänder. This forced her to carry the weapon in front of her like a heavy spear.

Over the span of twenty minutes, she descended deeper and deeper beneath the colossal tree. Her silent steps gave away so little ambient sound that even with her beast-kin senses, she herself could barely detect her own forward momentum. The only true noise in the darkness was the soft, rhythmic scrape of her armor against her fur and the faint, vibrating hum of the lantern's magitech core.

Eventually, the tunnel abruptly opened, vomiting her out inside a sprawling underground space. It was a cavern so vast and deeply lightless that it swallowed her lantern's illumination, leaving her standing on the precipice of an inky abyss. Gargantuan roots stretched endlessly from one invisible side of the colossal chamber to the other, overlapping and strangling each other. Creating a literal, three-dimensional maze of blackened wooden walls.

Once fully inside the echoing cavern, she gracefully hoisted the black blade up onto her armored shoulder. Its weight was a comforting presence against her back—a physical reminder of the power she wielded in His name. She began to move deeper into the abyss, her lithe body coiled with a tension, her blood beginning to sing with the raw anticipation of impending slaughter.

Her pointed, incredibly sensitive, furred ears swiveled sharply from one direction to the other, attempting to pick up on even the faintest sounds or the subtlest vibrations in the silence. But the only thing she could detect was the silence, broken only by the occasional sounds of pulverized stone and dry earth shifting somewhere far away in the darkness.

The artificial light of the lantern hooked securely onto her belt was a dangerous double-edged sword; while it afforded her a decent radius of vision to navigate this subterranean maze, it also transformed her into a glaring beacon. It was actively broadcasting her position to whatever ancient horror lurked hungrily in the deep shadows.

Being the solitary light source in this lightless space meant that whatever lurked down here was already acutely aware of her location.

Nonetheless, Iris made her way further into the hollow space below the dead tree, her movements fluid confidence. With a sudden exertion of will, she activated Blade Step. The magic tore her from her physical location and repositioned her atop one of the massive, horizontal roots suspended over the ground. The wooden artery was so massive it was easily wide enough for a transport vehicle to drive across. She landed in a low crouch without making a single sound, her enhanced musculature absorbing the kinetic impact with an feline ease.

She peered cautiously down over the edge into the echoing space directly below her. Her limited vision, even enhanced by her keen beast-kin eyesight, allowed her to see nothing more than a hundred meters into the gloom. Her fluid movements paused completely for a long, tense moment. She stood unnaturally still, her entire being focused on penetrating the surrounding darkness. She listened intently, her breath held perfectly steady in her lungs, her heart beating a slow rhythmic thud against her ribs.

There was absolutely no sound whatsoever. The silence was unnatural.

Iris reached into her spatial ring, retrieving a simple tin can. The cheap metal was cold against her sensitive fingertips. With a effortless flick of her wrist, she tossed it deep into the darkness of the sprawling chamber below. It plummeted silently through the void, impacting on something unseen before ricocheting and hitting something else. It eventually made contact with the rocky ground far below, rolling unevenly for a short distance with a series of soft, metallic, echoing clinks.

The loud sounds of the hard impact in the distance echoed through the cavernous chamber. The sharp noises rapidly bounced off the uncountable number of gargantuan roots, creating a chaotic mix of overlapping drumming sounds—a sudden, jarring cacophony of noise that was almost immediately swallowed whole by the returning silence.

Iris stood perfectly still on the massive root, easily perched fifty meters up in the air, listening for anything that wasn't the natural, settling sounds of loose stone and falling sand.

Then, there it was.

A sound. Like a massive, violent crack of thunder that physically shook the enormous space, echoing deafeningly and bouncing wildly off the roots. It was instantly followed by another, significantly louder tearing sound that seemed to emanate from all directions at once.

Just before Iris could physically react, a massive form broke through one of the smaller, surrounding roots in the darkness below. The impact shattered the thick wood into a hail of jagged shrapnel that flew blindingly across the cavern. The pieces impacted the distant earthen walls with a terrifying series of percussive thuds that sounded like gun shots.

Within a split second, a brilliant white light bathed the space on the cavern floor where the tin can had landed just moments ago. The illumination was so painfully intense that it momentarily blinded her. Her dilated pupils screamed in agony, her vision whiting out as her eyes struggled to adjust to the overwhelming radiance.

Iris dropped without thinking. Her lithe body moved on pure instinct, pinning herself flat against the rough bark of the massive root she was standing on. The jagged, petrified wood pressed into the curves of her dark armor.

The painfully bright white light vanished just a heartbeat later. In its sudden, dark absence appeared the visceral sounds of lumbering footfalls. She carefully peeked over the jagged edge of the root, looking down to the ground far below.

There she saw the beast. It was a huge reptilian creature. Its thick armored scales were the color of mossy stone. The Giant Basilisk was slowly, methodically turning its horned head from one side to the other, its jaws dripping saliva that hit the stone floor.

In one smooth step, she simply walked off the edge of the root.

Her body became a plummeting arrow, diving toward the stony ground and the monster waiting beneath. As she fell through the air, her gloved hand reached towards her belt for the small sprig of silver leaves. She blindly tossed the Ancora Sinteralis directly into her canine muzzle.

The intensely bitter taste was overwhelming, almost enough to make her gag and spit it out right then and there. A foul, nauseating tang of earth, sour bile, and heavy metallic bitterness coated her tongue. But she forcibly kept her jaws clamped shut, grinding and chewing the tough, waxy leaves with a determination to survive and serve her Lord.

The revolting texture was like chewing on gritty candle wax. She felt the potent enzymes immediately begin to react with her biology, creating a strange electrical tingling sensation that burned along her gums and slid hotly down her throat.

Before she could even cover half the vertical distance plummeting toward the cavern floor, the huge beast suddenly snapped its head up, its reptilian eyes locking onto her falling form.

Instantly, the blinding white light washed over her entire body in mid-air. The magical force was so intensely powerful it felt like a physical pressure crushing against her skin, blinding her in the process. She felt a unnatural cold creeping into her flesh. The freezing sensation penetrated deep into her very core, actively attempting to seize her cells, halt her rushing blood, and turn her into a statue.

But the crushed silver leaves were doing their internal work. The magic fiercely warred within her veins. While her pale skin grew cold and painfully stiff, it never fully hardened to stone.

As the blinding light finally subsided, Iris was still partially blind from the intense optical trauma. Massive, bright green and purple spots danced chaotically across her ruined vision. But she didn't have to visually see where she was in the air, nor where her target waited below.

She knew exactly where it was. Her spatial awareness, enhanced by her beast-kin senses and honed through countless battles, gave her a perfect mental map of her position and the beast's location. She could feel its massive body, the heat it radiated, the slight vibrations it sent through the air as it shifted its weight.

In a loud bellowing, feral voice that echoed with bloodlust, she screamed, "Arcane Strike!"

The massive blade of her greatsword instantly flared up in a roaring maelstrom of turquoise light. It shone brighter than the lantern on her hip, casting her beautiful face and bared fangs in a terrifying glow of pure eldritch power. She brought the massive weapon down with all her might. With a deafening, thundering impact of cracking stone and shattering armor, she struck the Giant Basilisk squarely on its back, right between the bulging joints of its front legs.

The kinetic force of her falling strike was so incredibly great that the creature's thick armored back actually buckled inward for a long, agonizing moment before giving way in a spray of blood. Deep cracks instantly formed on the compacted stony earth directly beneath the crushed Basilisk, wildly spiderwebbing outward in every single direction before shattering completely as the ground gave way under the monster's legs.

The beast let out a howling roar that shook the entire cavern. The glowing blade effortlessly carved through its armored plates, shattering thick bone and pulverizing them into dust in one single cataclysmic impact. The vicious blade of the Eldritch Zweihänder broke completely through the creature's massive spine with a sickening, wet crunch. It continued its unstoppable, downward trajectory breaking the solid ground beneath the beast and shattering the bedrock even more in the process.

The sheer, explosive impact of the strike sent a visible shockwave rippling through the cavern that nearly dislodged her from her perch atop the creature's bisected back.

The violent glow of the eldritch blade finally subsided, immediately leaving behind the coppery scent of hot blood. Iris gasped for air, her entire body trembling. Her slender arms were numb from the sheer force of the impact. Intense vibrations were still traveling up her forearms and tearing into her shoulder sockets.

Before she even fully realized what was happening, the black blade slipped from her grasp. She was unable to hold onto the weapon anymore, her delicate fingers having temporarily lost all sensation from the explosive impact of the kill.

Directly beneath her boots were the two severed, bleeding halves of a once-giant beast. Its body was already beginning to disperse into countless pale blue, glowing particles of system energy that floated slowly up toward the cavern ceiling.

Their pale, ethereal blue light was suddenly overshadowed by a multitude of system windows that appeared in her vision, just as the heavy iron hilt of her dropped sword made contact with the ground with a soft, metallic clink.

Deep within the massive, sprawling underground chamber, a sudden pulse of emerald green light lit up the dark space like a lighthouse beacon. Its intense light clashed against the high ceiling as if it possessed an actual physical form. The luminous beam originated from deep within the chamber, pulsing with a slow rhythm.

Iris watched from her bloody perch atop the rapidly dissolving beast, staring over toward the bright beam of green light. She released a shuddering breath, her chest heaving, before spitting out the foul, bitter-tasting leaves she had chewed into a viscous paste. The disgusting slime clung stubbornly to her tongue like tar. The sickening aftertaste lingered heavily in her mouth even after she wiped her lips and rinsing it out with water.

Wiping her muzzle with the back of her armored gloves, she suddenly caught a terrifying glimpse of her own fur.

Her deep dark fur which had always been the flawless, deep color of the midnight sky, a physical trait her master deeply favored. Now had unnatural strands of gray spreading through it. The lingering petrification magic was giving her fur the aged appearance of a starlit sky.

A sudden soft whimper of pure terror escaped her lips from deep within her throat. A crippling fear took hold of her heart. She vividly heard His phantom voice echoing in her mind—complimenting her beautiful dark fur. She remembered those rare moments when he would roughly, possessively run his fingers through her soft fur, gripping her hair tightly to pull her head back. She could not—she would not—allow herself to become ugly or flawed in His eyes.

Slowly, with trembling fingers, she ran her armored hand forcefully over her discolored fur.

To her overwhelming relief, the gray strands of petrified fur simply snapped and broke off, falling harmlessly to the bloody ground like dust in the wind, leaving behind the soft, pristine dark coat as it had always been.

A shuddering sigh of pure relief passed her pale lips as the existential dread washed away, just like the petrified fur had crumbled. She closed her silver eyes for a long, quiet moment pushing away the arousing memory of His touch to refocus on her mission.

She bent down gracefully to pick up her heavy sword, before the soft reflection of a heavily ornate treasure chest in the gloom caught her eye.

Her fingers closed tightly around the familiar leather hilt of her weapon, the feeling slowly returning to her nerves. `My Arcane Strike has become far more potent.` She thought, a dark thrill of pride shivering down her spine. `I can barely even hold onto the blade.`

The raw power that coursed through her lithe body was deeply intoxicating, but also dangerous—a reminder of exactly how quickly her abilities were evolving far beyond what her original form could handle.

In a few confident steps, her boots splashing softly through the remaining puddle of hot Basilisk blood, she made her way over to the ornate chest.

The gilded lid opened smoothly, without requiring any physical effort, sliding back to reveal the spoils of her slaughter. Her glowing silver eyes widened fractionally, and her breath caught sharply in her throat as she stared down and saw its contents.