Chapter 164: Growing Frustration, And Family
It didn't take long before all that remained was blood, thinning as it drifted and folded into the currents. Even that would fade soon, torn apart and carried off by the slow pull of the water.
Scanning the space, Seo-jin pushed his senses outward until they strained, drawing a measured breath as his fingers traced the edges of his new gills.
A flash of memory cut through him. The same pressure he'd felt when he first arrived in this drowned cathedral, lungs burning, mind reeling at where they'd been dropped, dread pressing in from every side. The weight of it threatened to resurface, a feeling he'd sworn he wouldn't allow to take root again.
'Let's go.'
He didn't wait for an answer. His body angled forward and he started swimming, Panic and Bile falling in behind with their troops trailing.
'Broodfather? What is this place?'
Still keeping his head low, Panic slid closer, eyes working the void around them.
'It's a prison. One run by a species called the Makara.'
'Makara? Ma-ka-ra… weird. Tasted good.'
Eyes forward, [Soul Sight] stretched thin and wide, Seo-jin turned the words of the dying guard over in his mind. The vents scattered through this region were said to carry the breath of their sea god, a substance that marked those who ingested it with the Mark of Thuldan.
That made the Vent Cathedral ideal. A place to hold prisoners taken from the other realms, a simple solution for keeping surface races contained, breathing borrowed air while the Makara watched from above.
'After we find Pain, we regroup with the others. We'll explore a little, but not long. I want this dungeon cleared within the day.'
Chewing on the edge of his sickle, Panic glanced back at Bile, then returned his gaze to Seo-jin, his brow pulling tight.
"Are we going the wrong way?"
The question snapped Seo-jin fully back into the moment. He locked onto the broodlink, aura tightening as it pulsed against his awareness.
Turning his head, eyes closing, he pushed outward and forced the connection wider. The answer hit immediately.
"Son of a bitch. He's moving."
His tongue clicked once as he swept his gaze across the group. The window to decide was already closing.
'Panic. Bile. Into the growths. Order your troops to follow me as best they can.'
Neither broodling hesitated. System light peeled over Seo-jin as he stripped his gear free, while the brothers barked commands through the link. Each seized a growth along his back and got chewed inside, vanishing without ceremony.
The moment they were gone, the water around the remaining broodlings collapsed inward as Seo-jin drove forward, dumping every measure of strength and agilty into his stroke. His body vanished ahead like a fired round.
Thrown into spirals, the blood-masked and bladed troops fought the current, found their balance, then caught the pull of the broodlink and surged after.
'Shit, shit, shit! I underestimated this.'
[We both did. But who could've imagined we'd be dropped straight into this? Not like either of us has much experience with dungeon runs.]
'Then we should've done the research!'
Anger burned through him, but it was aimed inward. Any loss now would be a waste. Loss born from his own failure to prepare.
He needed more speed.
Driving through the water like a torpedo, the moving mass split and bloomed red as Seo-jin dismissed his suit, leaving only armor. Flesh darkened and drew long, bone and muscle stretching as Azakh-Tur's true form asserted itself.
Every muscle bit down. Claws cut. His tail snapped hard, and the water detonated behind him as a compressed shockwave carried him forward.
[I know this one's justified, but what's up with you? Ever since we ran into those imps, you've been off.]
He already knew the answer. The impatience with Teal. The snap at Min on the rooftop. The constant irritation sitting just beneath his skin, never fading.
'Something feels wrong. Like I forgot something. Something important. I know I've got time, but I can't shake this pull to get back to Shatterbay.'
[Then you'd better sort it out. We can't afford you being distracted right now.]
The logic was sound. But easier said than done. His brood, nearly everything he'd built was at risk. There was no space left for hesitation.
[-6 SM]
[SM // 46/52]
[Spider Step // Activated]
[Movement Speed increased by 25%]
[Duration // 120 seconds]
The water thundered again as the curse locked in, his body surging faster still.
The pull from Pain kept sliding away, the direction drifting as if dragged sideways. Adjusting without slowing, he angled his body and drove his legs harder. Muscles locked and screamed, tendons biting as every stroke forced resistance aside, yet even at his current speed, a new trace cut through the water and reached him.
Blood. Human blood.
Options collapsed in an instant. Grinding his teeth as he bled off momentum, swallowing the spike of anger as he rolled his body and redirected, he abandoned Pain's signal.
Rocketing forward, surging through open waters, it only took a few minutes. He didn't see it first. He heard it, and the sound hit like a blade.
Split-jaw, Slims, Hex, and what remained of the Dead Hands were boxed in by a crawling cloud of insect bodies. The water was thick with blood, boiling outward from the torn stump where Split-jaw's arm used to be, and the only thing keeping them alive was Hex. Sound carried farther and faster underwater, and every strike of his strings drove pressure through the swarm, shockwaves rippling outward and stalling the creatures mid-lunge as their mandibles shuddered.
Finding a target for the pressure building in his chest, Azakh-Tur bared his claws and drove himself straight into the mass, his body hitting the swarm hard enough to scatter it.
'Broodfather!'
Hex's eyes flared, and he hauled back on his instrument, roaring as he slammed out a heavy chord.
The effect landed immediately.
[Buff (War Dirge) // Recieved]
[+15% STR / +15% Attack Speed]
The change hit at once, his strikes accelerating as claws bit deeper and faster, each motion carrying more force, and as long as the sound kept coming, the momentum didn't break.
The Broodfather intended to take full advantage.
Swimming among the swarm, tearing through it headfirst, he drove his claws and mass through clustered bodies, ripping them apart until resistance failed, and the surrounding water darkened with thick purple ichor.
[+72Exp]
[+69 Exp]
[+604 Damage Dealt]
[!! Critical !!]
[+767 Damage Dealt]
Damage and experience alerts stacked across his vision as blood saturated the area, his focus narrowing until only motion, impact, and collapse remained, the slaughter burning off pressure he'd been carrying.
From inside the spreading cloud, the humans struggled to follow him, their eyes losing his position again and again as he changed trajectory faster than they could adjust. Even swimming, he moved beyond their ability to track. Of them, only Slims stayed active, his repeater crossbow locked to his forearm, cycling nonstop, bolts snapping toward any creature that closed the distance. His attention never strayed far from Hex and Split-jaw, his positioning always angled to keep them covered.
Split-jaw could only clamp down on the belt cinched around his arm and fight to stay upright, his breathing shallow as he fixed his focus on the pain.
'Should'a stayed home. Too old for this shit.'
Behind him, the remaining three Dead Hands clustered tight, bodies stiff and useless, resentment turning inward as they cursed themselves for coming at all.
Noticing Split-jaw's eyes starting to slip, Slims slid closer and drove his fingers hard into the torn stump.
Split-jaw jerked like he'd been struck by lightning, his body convulsing.
'Stupid bastard!'
'Damn right! So don't go dying old man! Us idiots still need your cranky ass!'
The crossbow kept firing, bolt after bolt punching out in rhythm with his words. He played it off like banter, but the truth sat like iron in his chest. The Dead Hands were his family, and in his mind, Seo-jin wasn't their father. That place had already been taken.
Chord after chord tore from Hex's axe while bolt after bolt snapped free from Slims' repeater, and with Azakh-Tur's claws and teeth driving straight through the mass, the swarm finally broke after long minutes of sustained pressure. What remained drifted as torn fragments.
Chewing on what tasted like rotten fish, Azakh-Tur's shallow wounds began to seal, a missing finger rebuilding itself. Stowing away his chest piece as his body finished knitting, he turned to face the group.
'All of you in. Why haven't you taken a pot yet?'
They swam over as ordered, Split-jaw sagging and swaying, his body hovering one mistake away from shutting down as he smiled weakly.
'I took em all already. You're a bit late.'
Azakh-Tur's eyes went pitch red as he turned on the remaining three Dead Hands.
'If I discover any of you are holding out, I will rip your intestines out through your ass. Now's your chance to avoid that.'
Killing intent compressed the water around them, pinning breath and motion alike, and all three froze before system light flared in their hands, each producing a potion in shaking grips.
He forced the urge down and didn't kill them where they floated, only because a sharp pulse through the broodlink dragged his attention away. Widow was closing in.
Before entering the dungeon, he hadn't found a hard limit to the broodlink's range, but here the connection was constricted, communication reach was shortened even though detection still functioned.
If they reached dry ground above, he made a note to test it again. Whether it was the Abyssal waters themselves or the breath of the Makara's god interfering, he intended to find out.
Having taken the three potions, Split-jaw looked steadier, but his health continued to drain. A wound like that needed something far stronger than what Azakh-Tur had bothered to carry. [Feed] had always been enough for him and the brood. Another oversight.
'Everyone in.'
He turned away as the Twinback Growths peeled open, rows of teeth flexing and snapping as the openings widened. The three humans hesitated until Hex seized them and shoved them through one by one, then followed, leaving Split-jaw and Slims to be pulled in last.
[After you gather Widow, that just leaves Snare and Synapse. But I'd hurry, Pain's signal is starting to weaken.]
'I know.'
His chest flared as the armor reformed over him without pause. He needed the stats.
[-6SM]
[SM // 46/52]
[Spider Step // Activated]
[Movement Speed increased by 25%]
[Duration // 120 seconds]
Pressure detonated outward as he launched again, purple blood thinning behind him.
Moving like a fired round, and with her already closing the distance, it didn't take long to find his daughter. Lynn and Min were with her. The lesser broodlings barely registered.
He cut off any attempt at conversation and expelled Split-jaw immediately. Seeing the old man's condition, Lynn nearly broke, hands glowing as she went to work without hesitation. It would take time, but she could seal the wound, though regrowing the arm was far beyond her reach.
A few minutes later, Azakh-Tur finished passing along what little information he had on the dungeon to Min. She barely reacted, the details failing to hold her interest. The only confirmed facts were the race occupying the area and the basic structure of the floor.
None of it mattered to Min. She only cared about who need to die, and when.
Her fists clenched, she turned away from Split-jaw and fixed her gaze on Azakh-Tur.
'Once we get out, we can buy a regeneration pot for his arm. But he should sit out the rest of this run.'
Her voice dropped.
'Lynn too. This place is too much for them.'
The problem wasn't the logic. It was the time. Staying inside the growths that long would guarantee exposure to his [Corruption]. He didn't need more test subjects. One was already enough.
Teal had been inside the growths well past the safe threshold. Even now, he could feel the feedback through the bond, nightmares hammering her mind as instability took root.
'Alright. But they're going to suffer. Still better than dying.'
'Suffer?'
Understanding crossed Min's face. The reason for the enforced drinking schedule whenever they were near him. She hesitated.
'How bad?'
'Looks like nightmares. For now.'
Min blinked, then scowled, her eyes snapped wide.
'You son of a—how long has she been in there?!'
Annoyance flared, sharp and immediate. Azakh-Tur rolled his eyes and turned away, shifting his focus to Widow before throwing Min a final answer.
'She's fine. Teal's tougher than you think. Get inside already. Drink first. I don't need you swinging the second you come out.'
Ignoring the middle finger aimed at his back, he looked up at Widow and smiled.
'Did you have fun?'
As the sounds of the growths chewing echoed behind her father, Widow tilted her head and gave a small shrug, the motion slow and unconcerned.
'A little.'
She turned immediately after, rotating her bulk to present her swollen thorax, the mass stretching in a way that left no room for doubt.
'Can we go home now? I'm past due.'
Azakh-Tur's brows drew together as the rest of his face went empty.
His head tilted once, then again, eyes dragging across the scale of her body as the implication assembled itself piece by piece.
'Already?'
She smiled, both hands sliding across her stomach with open pride.
'You're gonna be a grandfather.'
Something inside him curdled.