I froze for a moment, staring at the notification text. And the longer I looked, the clearer it became that this was a trap.
Not the kind that was about numbers, damage, and percentages of chances. No. This was a trap for the psyche. The game was offering me to suffer voluntarily.
To go under the poison and breathe it in, missing the boss's blows. To feel my skin burning, my lungs constricting, and my heart beating too fast.
It was like laying down under a tattoo artist's needle. You know it's going to hurt, and you can't stop in the middle, or it's all ruined.
But this was worse. Because the pain the game gave was not just numbers, it was transmitted through the nerves.
Zikei suddenly shouted:
—I'll take the aggro on him first!
His voice echoed through the dungeon, as if his shout had shaken not only the air but also the water itself. He stepped forward, plunging his katana into the slurry earth. A wave of dull red light spread from the blade, reflecting off the slimy walls.
The light shivered like a torch lit in a swamp, and Nemorrino reacted instantly, as if an ancient reflex had been awakened.
The swamp mud exploded under his hooves, and the monster's entire mass lunged forward. The air shuddered with the force of the impact, as if a heavy door had been torn from its hinges.
In a fraction of a second, two axes, glowing with the green haze of the toxin, descended on Zikei with the force of a hammer. He raised his katana in a cross-guard, taking the blow, and the sound was like lightning striking rock instead of metal and flesh.
He was thrown back a meter, the mud slapped his face, but he held on. Knees trembling, shoulders burning, he straightened up, growling:
—Come on, you bastard! I'm here!
The moose didn't waste a second. He leaped out of the water, leaving a trail of dirty waves in his wake, and with a deafening roar, he thrust his spear into the monster's side.
The metal pierced through the flesh, but Nemorrino didn't seem to feel a thing. He let out a roar that shook the moss-covered ceiling, and a greenish vapor erupted from the wound, representing the poison and alchemical energy that boiled within his blood.
Aka-32, standing slightly behind, was already in action. She raised her shield, on which ancient symbols flared to life, and spoke in a low, almost whisper-like voice.
The shield trembled, and three silhouettes erupted from its surface like mercury. They were transparent, with wings of smoke and eye sockets that glowed with a soft white light.
These were the Misty Leaf-Eaters, her summons from the Misty Garden. They circled around Nemorrino, emitting a soft, ringing hiss, and began to distract the monster from Zike and Elk.
The creature howled, waving its axes, trying to reach them, but they disappeared into thin air and reappeared like ghosts from a dream.
On the recommendation of Katzu, whose voice sounded right in my ear, I activated the "Running" skill. A light bluish trail enveloped my body, and I rushed forward, almost sliding through the swamp water. The spray flew up like liquid glass.
— On the left! He has an open area under his front paw!
Katzu quickly prompted.
I clenched my teeth, made a lunge, and almost reached Nemorrino's greenish side with the blade. But the creature, as if sensing his fury or mockery, suddenly shuddered.
He was furious.
The Swamp Boar's head snapped up, and flashes of nuclear-green light ran across its body. Its eyes opened, and two blinding swamps lit up within them. With a thunderous roar, it slammed both axes into the ground, and an explosive wave spread out from the impact, throwing back mud and steam.
— Get back! – Zikei shouted.
Moose and Aka-32 instantly jumped back, and the water surged up to the ceiling. But I was standing too close. My reflexes were delayed for a moment, and now I could see everything.
Nemorrino began to rotate. At first slowly, like a heavy machine preparing to crash, and then faster and faster, turning into a monster tornado of scars, moss, and metal.
With each rotation, splashes and steam rose, and the water boiled like in a cauldron. The mud gushed, and the air thickened with toxic heat.
Suddenly, a voice sounded in the heads of Zikei , Elk, Aka-32, and even Katzu, who was watching through the camera. The voice didn't come from the outside, but from within, as if someone was speaking directly into their skulls:
"Rotting Reach"
For a moment, everyone was frozen in place.
This was a rare effect in the system, as in-game bosses rarely spoke directly, except for elite ones. However, this was an Apostil, and the game chose to show the gap between them.
From the wounds of Nemorrino, clouds of cadaverous gas began to erupt, like smoke from a rotting volcano. They flowed over his body, coiling into rings and spewing out deadly plumes that melted everything they touched.
I jump to the side, but the spores catch up with me, as viscous as a fog made of pain. They cling to my skin, my clothes, and my blades. Everything around me is covered in a transparent green film, as if the very air is infected.
A system notification immediately appears:
[ You have gained 10 Immunity points ]
But along with the dry words of the interface comes another feeling.
It's like a wave of burning runs through my body, a phantom, unreal feeling, but so vivid that my muscles twitch convulsively.
—Damn! But it's still painful!
I cursed, jumping behind the back of the Elk.
From the ordinary blows of Nemorrino, my durability shield quickly decreased, the HP bar twitching like a pulse.
But when I was hit by poisonous attacks, the damage numbers didn't appear; instead, a quiet green symbol flashed above my head: Immunity +10.
My hands were shaking, but my eyes remained cold. The game wanted me to take a chance, to accept the poison and go through with it.
Katzu's calm but tense voice sounded in my ear:
"Don't go too far. He's keeping an eye on you. You can be bait, but don't die. Wait for my command."
He was watching everything through the stream, but it was as if he was standing there, knee-deep in the swamp.
There was no panic in his voice, only calculation and concern, as reserved as a commander.
I exhaled deeply, feeling the phantom burning recede.
For a moment, the interface blinked:
[ Immunity: 40 → 48 ]
[ The body adapts to the poison ]
Zikei suddenly shouted, overpowering the monster's roar and the shriek of interface alerts:
—Why didn't you dodge?! You'll lose like this, Disava!
I exhaled heavily, not taking my eyes off the bulk of Nemorino, whose breath was making steam rise from the murky water.
—I won't lose. I'm just learning the mechanics of combat.
The words sounded calm, almost cold-blooded, but there was something else in his voice, a sense of excitement.
Perhaps it was the moment when fear begins to turn into interest.
Meanwhile, Aka-32 was trying to protect everyone with her shield. The metal circle was shaking in her hands, and every attack from Nemorrino made it vibrate, as if someone were hitting a gong. Her breathing was getting heavier, and her feet were sinking almost to her knees in the mud.