Korinn slid to a halt. Mud splashed over Kaelen's boots.
"Boss. This is bad. This is really, really bad."
Vance fell to his knees in the muck. He hacked violently and spat dark, foul-smelling phlegm onto the ground.
Nia slid off his back and raised her wooden staff. A sharp, warm green pulse washed over the Thief.
Vance drew in a shuddering breath. The dark color faded from the veins in his neck. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
Kaelen stepped forward. His face was grim. "Speak."
"It is asleep," Korinn gasped. He leaned against a dead tree to support his weight. "Just like the archive said. It looks like a mountain of rotting timber and black sludge but the air around it is thick. It is a hundred-meter zone of pure death. We stayed there for thirteen minutes, and my lungs felt like they were full of broken glass."
Kaelen stood perfectly still while analyzing the situation.
A young Swordsman wiped sweat from his face. "Boss, if it is asleep, we should fall back. We can pick a clean choke point miles away from the fog, rig the ground with heavy traps, and lure it out when it wakes up."
It was a textbook hunting strategy but Kaelen shook his head.
"A trap relies on a monster taking the bait," Kaelen stated flatly. "If we spend three days digging trenches and planting magical explosives, and that 'Calamity' simply walks through them without a scratch, the plan fails. Worse, if it ignores our bait entirely and marches straight toward Voragale, the city dies."
Thorne leaned on his staff and nodded. "Calamity-class armor is too thick for standard traps. The risk of failure is too high."
Kaelen looked toward the thick gray fog. "We have a completely stationary target. It cannot actively dodge, and it cannot cast offensive magic while it sleeps. We get free, uncontested hits to break its outer shell before it can even fight back. That is a huge, guaranteed tactical advantage we absolutely will not waste."
Kaelen turned to face the twenty-four Adventurers and drew his broadsword. The heavy steel scraped loudly against the leather scabbard.
"We strike it in its bed," Kaelen projected his rough voice. "Aura is a physical shield. It stops teeth and it stops claws but it does not stop poison. If you breathe that fog for a few minutes, it will melt your lungs from the inside out."
A young Swordsman touched the leather collar of his tunic. "What about wet cloths? Or standard masks?"
"Do not bother with masks," Kaelen warned flatly. "The magic in that miasma rots regular cloth and leather in seconds. Your filters will turn to sludge. Our lives are entirely in the hands of the backline now."
The frontline Tankers shifted their weight and looked at the thick gray wall of fog ahead.
"A normal human dies in that fog in ten seconds," Kaelen continued. "Your hardened bodies can endure the poison for at least an hour before it reaches your heart but within fifteen minutes, your body will feel the pain and you will become slow. That's why the Healers will time their purification pulses. They will wash your blood before you hit the fifteen minute limit. If you get cut, the toxic sludge enters your veins instantly. You fall back, call for a flush, and get the flesh knit. Do not try to tough it out. A single scratch will kill you if you ignore it."
Thorne tapped his wooden staff on a rock. "The Mana drain on the Healers will be massive. They have to keep us breathing and keep us bleeding at the same time. The battle is going to be brutal."
"That is why we use a strict rotation," Kaelen said. He pointed his sword at the group. "Team A, twelve people. Team B, thirteen people. We go in together right now. We hit it with full force for one hour to break the perimeter defenses. Then, Team B falls back to the safe zone. You rest and drink your potions while Team A holds the line. We swap every six hours."
Kaelen looked at the young prodigies. Celia stood calmly holding her staff. Her white robes were already stained with mud at the hem. Lumina simply adjusted her dark cloak. They did not look scared. They looked like they were waiting for a carriage.
"We attack now," Kaelen ordered. "While the Titan's armor is soft. Move out."
The twenty-five Adventurers marched into the fog.
The temperature dropped immediately. The smell hit them first. It was a suffocating stench of rotting eggs, stagnant water, and decaying meat. The gray mist clung to their armor. It felt heavy. It left a greasy, acidic film on the steel.
Roughly fifteen minutes passed. Kaelen felt a sharp burning in the back of his throat. Every breath felt like inhaling hot ash. His chest grew tight.
"Flush!" Thorne yelled from the center of the formation.
The five Healers raised their staves.
VWOOOM-SHHH.
A synchronized wave of bright green light pulsed through the murky air. The light washed over the Adventurers. The burning in Kaelen's chest instantly vanished. His lungs cleared. The toxic buildup in his bloodstream dissolved. He pulled in a deep breath of clean air.
"Keep the timer in your head," Kaelen told the front row. "Fifteen minutes till the next pulse. Do not panic."
They pushed through a thick cluster of dead, black willow trees. Their heavy boots sucked and squelched in the mud.
SHLUCK-SQUELCH.
Then, they saw it.
The Miasma-Titan.
The thing sat in the center of a big crater of bubbling black sludge. Rather than an animal, it looked like a towering, malformed cathedral of twisted wood, hardened mud, and thick, pulsing vines.
It stood easily twenty meters tall and stayed completely stationary, yet a deep, rhythmic thrumming sound echoed from deep inside its chest.
TH-THRUM... SHLUUURK.
It was breathing. It was pulling the toxic swamp water directly into its massive roots.
"It is fully hardening the lower shell," a Swordsman muttered while gripping his hilt tight.
"Spread out!" Kaelen roared. "Strike the lower roots! Sever its grip on the mud!"
They stepped onto the edge of the crater.
GLURB-GLURB-SHHHRK.
The mud beneath their boots suddenly churned.
The Titan was asleep, but its autonomous defenses were wide awake.
CRAAACK-SWOOSH!
Thick, razor-sharp wooden roots violently erupted from the sludge. They whipped through the air like big spears.
SKRRR-SQUISH-HISS!
Dozens of small, four-legged mud-crawlers clawed their way out of the bubbling pools. They swarmed out of the sludge like angry hornets, blindly rushing the intruders to protect the sleeping giant.
"Incoming!" Kaelen raised his heavy iron shield. He flared his Aura. The glowing light coated the metal.
KRAANG!
A root the size of a tree trunk slammed into his shield.
GRRR-SHLUCK.
The sheer, crushing weight of the blow pushed his boots back two feet through the thick mud.
SCREEE-GRRR.
He gritted his teeth and held the line. The shield groaned under the pressure.
"Cut them down!" Kaelen shouted.
The heavy Swordsmen stepped past the Tankers.
SCHWAK-SPLAT!
They swung their Aura-coated blades. Steel bit into the rotting wood. Thick black sap sprayed into the air.
"Crawlers on the left!" a Tanker yelled.
He kicked a mud-crawler in the jaw. He brought his broadsword down, cleaving the beast in two.
SHLICK-SQUELCH.
Toxic sludge spilled from its belly.
"Korinn, watch your left!" Vance shouted, swinging his daggers to deflect a smaller, spiked vine.
CLACK-SWISH.
"I see it!" Korinn replied as he ducked under the sweep. "We need heavy hitters on these roots! Daggers just bounce off the bark!"
Kaelen stepped up. "Step aside, boys. Let the Tankers work.
He swung his heavy broadsword, cleaving the spiked vine in two. Black sap splattered across his iron chestplate.
TSS-SSSS-HISS.
It hissed and smoked, eating into the metal.
"The acid is strong," Kaelen grunted. "Don't let it touch your skin."
"GAAAH!" A Tanker on the right flank screamed.
A spiked vine whipped past his guard and slashed across his forearm. The cut was shallow, but the black sap seeped directly into the wound.
THUD-URGH.
The man dropped to his knees. The veins in his neck turned a sickly purple.
"Healer!" the Tanker choked out as he dropped his One-Handed Warhammer and his Shield.
Nia dashed forward. She did not build an Aura Tail. She pointed her staff directly at the man's arm. A concentrated beam of green light hit the cut.
VWOOM-SPLAT-TSSS.
It violently flushed the black poison out of the wound, sending it dripping onto the mud. The torn flesh knit back together in a few seconds.
"Get up!" Nia yelled. She turned to pulse the air for the nearby Tankers. "I need you on the shield!"
The Tanker scrambled to his feet. He grabbed his Warhammer and Shield, and stepped back into the line.
Lumina stood in the backline without shouting. She raised her hands.
She fired a small, perfectly condensed ball of fire that struck a cluster of toxic vines wrapping around a crawler.
FWOOSH-CRACKLE.
The fire erupted and burned the vegetation to ash in a standard, clean hit. There were no flashy explosions, just highly competent backline support that allowed her to blend right in with the Imperial Capital Mages.
Celia moved behind the Swordsmen and timed her pulses perfectly.
VWOOM-HUMMM.
She sent a warm green light over her assigned squad every fifteen minutes.
Celia did not look out of place. Much like the other veteran healers, she simply did her job and kept her team breathing.
"Mages! Shock the outer shell!" Kaelen ordered. BAM-CRACK! He bashed a root away with his shield, creating an opening.
Thorne fired three rapid fireballs. The Aura Tails flared bright blue, pushing the spheres of flame around the massive willow trees to strike the base of the Titan.
FWOOSH-FWOOSH-FWOOSH... BOOM!
Fire baked the mud armor.
"Hit the same spot!" Thorne yelled. "Shatter it!"
The other Imperial Capital Mages stepped forward. They built Aura Tails. Heavy blocks of ice tore through the gray fog.
CRASH-SSSHHHH.
They slammed directly into the burning hot armor.
Ice shattered it. KRR-SHATTER! The extreme temperature shock worked flawlessly.
The explosions echoed across the swamp. Pieces of the outer shell blew off in chunks.
PSHHHH-HISS!
Highly pressurized, acidic sludge vented from the open wounds. The air grew even more toxic.
"Flush!" a Swordsman yelled. He coughed violently as the vented gas hit his face.
Celia pulsed her staff.
VWOOM-SHHH.
The green light washed the man's lungs.
The Swordsman sucked in air and held his ground.
CLANG! SHLUCK! BAAANG!
A chaotic, muddy brawl against mindless roots and toxic vents consumed the clearing. The capital veterans fought with brutal efficiency, rotating their shield blocks to cover the Healers and proving why the empire ranked them so high. They looked like they had been fighting for hours, but it had only been ten minutes.
"Fifty minutes left on the full assault!" Kaelen shouted over the explosions.
"HRAAAH!" CRASH-BAM!
They pushed harder. The Swordsmen hacked at the base of the Titan.
CLANG-THUD! CLANG!
They aimed for a huge, bulging section of the calcified shell. It was the thickest part of the armor.
"Keep hitting the same spot!" Thorne yelled as he fired another block of ice.
WHOOSH-CRASH!
"Stress the shell!"
Kaelen stepped forward and ignited a concentrated burst of Aura over his broadsword. He planted his boots deep in the mud and swung with all his might. The heavy blade bit deep into the armor.
KRR-CRACK... GA-DOOSH!.
A big fissure spiderwebbed up the side of the Titan's body. A huge chunk of the hardened shell broke loose and collapsed into the bubbling sludge.
The autonomous roots suddenly stopped moving. They froze in mid-air.
The bubbling mud grew completely still.
The heavy, rhythmic thrumming sound coming from the monster's chest stopped.
A suffocating silence fell over the crater. The Mages lowered their hands. The Tankers kept their shields up.
"Did we kill it?" a Swordsman whispered. His chest heaved as he stared at the frozen roots.
Kaelen stared at the big fissure as his blood ran cold. With a sheer, paralyzing drop in the air pressure, the fog around them seemed to pull inward.
"No," Kaelen said hoarsely. "Get back. Everyone get back!"
A sound tore through the swamp.
KRRR-CRACK.
It was not a roar. Rather than an animal, it sounded like a thousand massive, ancient trees violently splintering and snapping in half all at the same time.
Then came a deafening, structural groan of bending wood and grinding bedrock.
GRRR-GROAAAN.
The twenty-meter mountain of sludge and timber began to shift. The big crater of mud drained inward, sucked up by the roots.
SHLLLRK-SQUELCH.
Two glowing, sickly yellow lights ignited high up on the twisted wooden structure.
TH-THRUM... PSHHH.
They looked down at the twenty-five Adventurers.
The Calamity-class Miasma-Titan woke up.