Chapter 53

  The sound of the morning bell rang.

  Francis was already dressed and moving. The Rhinokin's fighting patterns were locked in his memory alongside the Jaguarkin and Pantherkin. Time to hunt something new.

  The journey south, the guards, the demonstration, the war council, all of it passed in a blur of familiar motions. Francis collected his equipment and asked the question he'd been planning since he killed the Rhinokin.

  "The serpentkin in the eastern ranks," Francis said. "Where exactly?"

  Stenson studied a map. "Our scouts report it near the forest edge, where the terrain gets swampy. Stays in the water mostly. The few soldiers who've encountered it and survived described scales like metal, fangs that drip venom, and a tail that moves like a whip."

  "How many have died to it?"

  "Dozens," King Baxter said. "Maybe more. We stopped sending patrols to that area. Any information you can gather and give us for when you’re done doing these loops will be invaluable."

  Francis nodded. "That’s the plan."

  ***

  The eastern battlefield was different. Where the main lines were open grassland, this area was marsh and mud, with stands of twisted trees and pools of stagnant water. The air smelled wrong, thick with rot and something that made Francis's nose burn.

  Regular beastkin challenged him as he pushed deeper. Wolfkin emerged from the undergrowth. Tigerkin tried to use the terrain to their advantage. Francis cut them down, his regeneration closing the scratches and shallow wounds they managed to inflict.

  Then the water ahead erupted in a shower of scales and liquid.

  The serpentkin was massive. Twenty feet of coiled muscle covered in dark green scales that gleamed like polished metal. Its head was triangular, with yellow eyes tracking Francis with predatory focus. Fangs as long as daggers dripped with venom that hissed when it hit the water.

  Francis raised his shield and charged.

  The serpentkin struck. Its head whipped forward with terrifying speed, its open mouth and fangs aimed at Francis's upper body. He caught the strike on his shield, but the force drove him back, his boots sliding in the mud.

  Before he could recover, the tail came around from his blind side. It struck him like a battering ram, immediately wrapping around his legs and yanking him off his feet. Francis hit the ground hard, mud spraying, and the serpentkin was already coiling around him.

  Scales pressed against his armor, tightening. Francis felt his ribs creak under the pressure. He tried to bring his sword around, but the serpentkin's body had pinned his arm.

  The fangs came for his face. Francis twisted his head, feeling one fang scrape across his cheek, and then fire exploded through his body.

  Venom .

  The pain was immediate and absolute. Francis's vision blurred, and his muscles began to spasm. His regeneration tried to work, golden threads flickering, but the venom spread faster than his healing could counter.

  The serpentkin squeezed, and Francis's world went dark.

  ***

  The sound of the morning bell rang.

  Francis processed what he'd just learned. The serpentkin was a constrictor, using its body to pin opponents before delivering venom. It fought in water and mud where footing was treacherous. And the venom worked too fast for his Regeneration or his Poison Resistance to counter at their current levels.

  I can't let it wrap around me. Need to stay mobile somehow.

  He went through the familiar sequence and headed east again.

  This time, when the serpentkin erupted from the water, Francis didn't charge. He circled, keeping his distance, watching how it moved. The creature was built for ambush, for striking from concealment. In open combat, it had to commit fully to each attack.

  The serpentkin finally lunged. Francis sidestepped, his sword coming around in a Power Strike aimed at the creature's neck. The blade struck scales and was deflected. Not even a scratch.

  It does have scales like metal. Stenson wasn't exaggerating.

  The tail whipped at his legs again. Francis jumped, but the serpentkin somehow anticipated his movements. Its body coiled mid-strike, wrapping around him in the air. They hit the water together, and Francis found himself pinned again, his armor grinding against scales.

  This time, he saw the fangs coming. He got his shield between them and his face, and venom sprayed across the metal. As it dripped off the edges of his protective barrier and onto his armor, the liquid touched his skin, causing it to burn.

  The serpentkin's coils tightened, and Francis felt something give in his chest. Even with Warrior’s Resolve trying to fill him with power, none of his limbs worked. The power of the constricting crushed them all. Darkness came again.

  ***

  The sound of the morning bell rang.

  The scales are too hard. I need to find weak points. Maybe its eyes or inside the mouth.

  Francis went through the routine faster this time, his mind focused on the problem. The serpentkin's body was armor. He needed to find the vulnerable spots.

  When the creature emerged from the water, Francis was ready. He let it commit to a strike, then used Quick Attack to close the distance before it could coil. His sword drove toward one of its yellow eyes.

  The serpentkin's head snapped back, the eye closing behind a transparent membrane just before Francis's blade arrived. The sword scraped across the membrane but didn't penetrate.

  Then the mouth opened wide, fangs spreading, and venom sprayed like thrown water. Francis got his shield up, but drops found his sword arm. The pain was instant and debilitating.

  His grip weakened, and the sword fell from his fingers.

  The serpentkin struck while he was disarmed, fangs sinking into his shoulder. Francis felt the venom pump directly into his bloodstream, felt his body shut down in seconds.

  ***

  Three more deaths. Three more loops of trying to find the serpentkin's weakness.

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  Francis learned that the creature's underside had softer scales, but getting to them meant letting it wrap around him. He learned that it could spray venom like a weapon, not just inject it with bites. Francis knew that it was cautious, intelligent, and incredibly patient.

  He tried targeting its jaw hinges, but his sword just bounced off.

  He tried waiting for it to fully commit to a strike before attacking. The elite Snakekin never committed fully, always able to dodge or twist, making it impossible to pin down.

  He tried using the environment, luring it into shallow water where it couldn't maneuver as well. It refused to follow.

  Every attempt taught him something new, but none of it was enough.

  [ Poison Resistance Increased - 46 ]

  [ Pain Resistance Increased - 69 ]

  ***

  The sound of the morning bell rang.

  Francis lay in bed, thinking. The serpentkin's scales were too hard. The membrane over its eyes protected them. It could spray venom to disable him. Its coils could crush him even if he avoided the fangs.

  But there was one moment, just one, when it was vulnerable. When its mouth opened wide to strike, when the fangs spread, there was soft tissue inside. The roof of the mouth, the throat.

  I’ll have to let it think it's winning and then let it commit.

  Francis went through the routine, collected his equipment, and headed east with a new plan.

  When the serpentkin emerged from the water, Francis raised his shield and stood his ground. Once again, he didn't charge and didn't circle. He just waited.

  The creature studied him for a few seconds, its yellow eyes calculating something. Then it struck.

  Francis blocked the first attack with his shield. The second, he dodged. The third, he took on his armor, letting the fangs scrape across his shoulder plate. He was giving ground, allowing the serpentkin to think it was winning, drawing it in to commit fully.

  The tail wrapped around his legs. Francis let it. The coils began to climb, wrapping around his waist. He didn't fight it.

  The serpentkin's head reared back, mouth opening wide for the killing strike. Fangs spread. Francis could see straight down its throat.

  Now.

  Quick Attack and Power Strike activated together. Francis drove his sword up into the open mouth, through the soft palate, and into the serpentkin's brain.

  The creature's entire body went rigid. The coils tightened reflexively, crushing Francis's ribs, but then the serpentkin began to fall, its body going limp.

  Francis pulled his sword free and staggered back, his regeneration already working on his crushed chest. He'd done it. Finally.

  [ Quick Attack Increased - 58 ]

  [ Power Strike Increased - 65 ]

  [ Flurry Increased - 35 ]

  [ Battle Sense Increased - 23 ]

  It took him a little bit of time to free himself from the coils, but eventually Francis stood over the serpentkin's corpse, breathing hard. His regeneration healed the injuries the Serpentkin had inflicted. He had defeated another Elite Beastkin. Each one taught him something new. Each one pushed his skills higher.

  That almost felt too easy… but then again, I’m not sure most people are willing to let something try and crush or swallow them.

  But he wasn't done.

  ***

  "The serpentkin," Stenson said, looking at the fang Francis had brought back. The thing was as long as a dagger, still dripping venom. "You actually killed it."

  "Took me more attempts than the Rhinokin," Francis admitted. "Its scales are harder than steel. I had to let it basically try to eat me and then go through the mouth."

  King Baxter studied the fang with something like awe. "We lost good men to that creature. Dozens of them."

  "What else is out there?" Francis asked.

  Priscilla spoke up. "You mentioned a lizardkin caster. It's the most dangerous thing in their army. That would explain the spells that we face and their magnitude. The magic it uses isn't like anything we've seen before."

  Francis nodded slowly. He'd died to that lizardkin in a previous loop. He hadn't gotten a good look at it, just a flash of scales, a beam of light, and then death.

  "Where?"

  "Forest to the north of their main lines," Stenson said. "We don’t go near it for a lot of reasons, one being we’ve never pushed that deep. The other is that it would require us to pull all of our casters forward to try and stop the spells it assaults us with."

  "I'll find it," Francis said.

  "Be careful," Priscilla warned. "Magic like that bypasses physical defense. Your armor won't help you."

  "My regeneration might."

  "Maybe," the mage replied. "Or maybe not. We don't know enough about what it does."

  ***

  The forest was different from the swamp. Darker. The trees here were massive, their canopy blocking out the sun. Undergrowth tangled everything, and the air felt heavy, oppressive.

  Francis pushed through the regular beastkin, cutting them down as he moved deeper. Wolfkin. Tigerkin. Even a few rhinokin. None of them slowed him significantly.

  Then the forest opened into a clearing, and Francis saw it.

  The lizardkin was enormous.

  Why are all of these so huge?

  This one was easily twenty feet tall, walking upright on thick legs. Its scales were a deep purple that seemed to shimmer with inner light. But what caught Francis's attention was the staff it held, carved from black wood and topped with a crystal that pulsed with power.

  It’s similar to the one I faced in the woods where I got the parasite from.

  The creature saw him and raised the staff.

  “You… shouldn’t be here! How are you–” it called out.

  Francis started to charge, not wanting to have a discussion, but he was too slow. The crystal flared, and a beam of pure white light erupted from it.

  The beam hit him before he could react. Francis felt his chest explode, felt the light burn through armor and flesh like they were paper. He looked down and saw a hole the size of his fist going completely through his torso.

  His regeneration tried to activate, golden threads flooding the wound, but there was too much damage. Francis fell to his knees, then forward onto his face.

  That's what killed me before. That's what killed King Baxter.

  The world went dark.

  ***

  The sound of the morning bell rang.

  Francis stared at the ceiling, processing. The lizardkin caster was going to be different from everything he'd fought before. The Jaguarkin and Pantherkin were melee fighters. The Rhinokin was a tank. The serpentkin was an ambusher. But the lizardkin? That was pure magic, delivered from range, with enough power to kill him before his regeneration could even activate.

  He'd need a new approach. New tactics and maybe even new equipment.

  But that was for tomorrow. For now, he had data. He'd seen the lizardkin and got a small glimpse at how it fought. Even better was that Francis finally found out what the beam that had killed him and King Baxter was.

  That was a start.

  Francis got out of bed and started dressing.

  One day, the grind will end.

  ?