Chapter 22: Basilisk Hunt - Part 1
The northern road stretched through winter-stripped forest before descending into marshland. Frost crunched under my boots as I walked, breath misting in air cold enough to burn lungs. By midday, the ground had softened to mud. By afternoon, I was ankle-deep in swamp water that smelled of rot and sulfur.
The basilisk's territory announced itself through absence.
No birdsong. No insect buzz. No movement of any kind in the dead reeds that lined the path. Even the wind seemed reluctant to penetrate this place. Just stillness, oppressive and wrong.
My Scanner activated automatically, painting the landscape with assessment text.
[ENVIRONMENTAL SCAN: BASILISK TERRITORY]
[Magical Signature: STRONG (recent activity)]
[Toxicity Level: Elevated (venom residue in water)]
[Wildlife Presence: NONE (predator dominance)]
[Nest Location: Estimated 400 meters northeast]
"Four hundred meters. Close enough to scout, far enough to prepare."
I found the first petrified animal fifty meters further—a deer, frozen mid-stride, stone eyes staring at nothing. The transformation was complete. Not a statue carved to look like a deer, but actual flesh converted to rock, every hair and muscle fiber preserved in mineral perfection.
"The gaze works fast. Seconds, maybe less. No time to look away once eye contact is established."
More statues appeared as I continued. Rabbits. A fox. Something that might have been a wolf before petrifaction claimed it. The basilisk was feeding well, which meant it was strong.
The nest came into view through a gap in the dead willows—a rocky outcropping rising from the marsh, caves pocking its face like wounds. Perfect territory for a creature that hunted by ambush. High ground, multiple exits, clear sightlines to approaching prey.
I retreated to a safe distance and pulled out the spyglass I'd purchased in Oxenfurt. Two crowns for reasonable optics. Worth every coin now.
The basilisk emerged at dusk.
It was larger than I'd expected. Eight feet from snout to tail, body thick as a horse's barrel, scales gleaming with toxic sheen that caught dying sunlight. Its legs were shorter than its serpentine body suggested—designed for lunging rather than running. The eyes...
I looked away before the spyglass could magnify them properly. Even at this distance, even through glass, the petrifying gaze might have some effect.
"Bigger. Stronger. More dangerous than the contract suggested. Whoever posted fifty crowns underestimated what they were dealing with."
I watched until the basilisk retreated into its caves, then withdrew to make camp a mile distant. Sleep came poorly, dreams filled with stone eyes and frozen flesh.
Morning brought clarity and purpose.
The plan had formed during the night, drawing on meta-knowledge that shouldn't exist in this world. Basilisks were vulnerable to their own gaze—legend in my old life, but based on something real here. Mirrors could reflect the petrification effect back at the creature.
I returned to Oxenfurt at dawn, purchased four polished metal sheets from a merchant who didn't ask why a teenager needed mirrors in the marshland. Four crowns gone, leaving me at negative one overall. The debt was temporary. The equipment was essential.
Back at the nest by noon.
The basilisk was dormant—cold-blooded metabolism slowing in winter temperatures. It would emerge at dusk when the air was warmest, seeking prey before the night's chill drove it underground again.
I had six hours to prepare.
The mirror positioning took three attempts to get right. First placement: too obvious, the basilisk would avoid them instinctively. Second placement: angles wrong, reflections wouldn't catch the creature's eyes. Third placement: acceptable. A maze of polished metal hidden among rocks and dead vegetation, creating overlapping fields of reflection that the basilisk would walk through while pursuing prey.
The bait was simpler. A rabbit from a roadside farmer—five silver, the man happy to sell a weak animal that wouldn't survive winter anyway. I staked it near the nest entrance, leg tethered to prevent escape, positioned directly in the reflection zone.
Then I climbed.
The outcropping had a natural shelf twenty feet above the nest entrance. Good sightlines, difficult for a ground-based predator to reach quickly, and far enough that the petrification gaze would be weakened by distance. I strung the borrowed bow, checked the arrows, and settled in to wait.
[DANGER SENSE: ALERT]
[Threat Level: Extreme]
[Distance: 30 meters (underground)]
[Entity Status: Waking]
The sun touched the horizon. The temperature dropped. And the basilisk emerged.
It moved with terrible grace—each step deliberate, body flowing like water over stone. The rabbit's terrified squealing drew its attention immediately. The massive head swung toward the bait, eyes gleaming with hunger.
"Come on. Walk into the trap. Just a few more steps..."
The basilisk advanced. Its body passed through the first reflection zone—mirrors catching its profile, bouncing light between polished surfaces. The creature paused, sensing something wrong.
Then it turned.
Its eyes met the angled mirror directly.
The effect was immediate. The basilisk's scales began graying, starting from the eyes and spreading outward. It thrashed, trying to break the reflected gaze, but the mirror maze caught its every movement. Every direction offered another reflection. Every attempt to look away showed it another angle of its own deadly stare.
[COMBAT LOG: BASILISK]
[Status: Self-Petrification in Progress]
[Estimated Completion: 3-5 minutes]
[Warning: Creature still capable of movement and attack]
I didn't wait for completion. The basilisk was struggling against the effect, creating cracks in its own stone-turning flesh, fighting the transformation with the desperate strength of a creature that refused to die.
I notched an arrow. Drew. Aimed for the neck joint where scales met—the weakest point on any armored creature.
Released.
The arrow flew true.
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