Glancing down at his chest piece and bracers that were now fully repaired as he'd activated the Self-Repair enchantments atop them while he was catching his breath after completing Wave 3.
Slipping his whetstone back into his fourth pouch attached to his belt, he gave his left short sword a casual flick before unsheathing his right blade from its sheath across his back, he turned and made his way toward the heart of the grove.
Vines thick with thorns and blooming with violet flowers had emerged from the grass just beside the marble feet of the Three Sisters of Fate's statues. But despite three completed waves, the growth barely reached their shins.
Deacon narrowed his eyes. I don't see how five waves will be enough to bind down the Sisters of Fate, he mused, watching the slow, crawling advance of the magical flora… Whatever. If push comes to shove, I can always just do more; so far, nothing's been too difficult.
His gaze shifted to the System Panel appearing in the corner of his vision.
Wave 3 has been completed!
Do you wish to begin Wave 4?
[Yes] [No]
"Yes," he muttered, and yet another screen popped out in front of him.
[SYSTEM NOTICE]
Wave 4: Initiated.
Hostiles Detected: 5
Classification: Mixed Beasts & Monsters – Level 4 Elites
Threat Level: Moderate
Objective: Eliminate All Threats
"Ah," Deacon groaned, rolling his neck with a dry crack. "Elites this early?"
A low, guttural growl echoed from his left.
Then a wet hissing sound from his right.
Branches above rustled as something massive slithered into position, and a heavy thud reverberated through the ground behind him.
Deacon turned slowly in a loose stance, blades ready, as his enemies emerged through the fog.
The first beast that emerged from the fog was the Skullback Grizzly - its fur was matted and clumped with dried blood, revealing its bone-like plating hidden beneath its fur. Once it made eye contact with him, it let out a full-bellied roar that stung Deacon's ears before charging straight at him.
Off to its right, weaving between trees, was a One-eyed Horned Basilisk, its body laced with barbs, and its lone eye pulsated, to which Deacon instantly averted his gaze.
Basilisks always have some sort of way to paralyze you, and in this case, it looks like its eye does just that.
High above, perched on twisted branches, were two Carrion Sirens, birdlike monsters with corpse-pale faces and harpy-like wings. Their songs were just starting a low, hypnotic chant scraping across the inside of his skull.
And lastly, lumbering from the trees with heavy footsteps and charring the ground beneath it with every step, was a Charred Golem, skin cracked and glowing from within, the heat it radiated visibly warping the air around it.
"Right," Deacon exhaled. "I'll just end this quickly and get this shit done with so I can deal with the next Floor."
The Skullback Grizzly barreled forward, its jaws wide open as its legs tore through the ground.
Deacon exhaled slowly, crouching just as the beast lunged, then dove to the side, one claw skimming inches from his face and cleaving a nearby tree clean through.
Rolling once, he came up low and slashed at the Grizzly's ankle as it passed. His short sword dug in, just barely beneath the muscle, enough to make it stumble.
Too thick for a straight kill. Deacon's eyes darted skyward.
Shrieks came from above seconds before the Carrion Sirens dove from the branches above, pale faces curled into rictus grins. One screeched directly toward his skull while the other dove straight at him with claws like rusted meat hooks barred at his neck.
Both of his short blades lit with fire, courtesy of Flame Armament, and his gloves, Mycelial Grasp, responded to his mana.
Thin, fungal tendrils extended from Deacon's palms and entwined the hilts of his weapons. A slick sheen of green-black venom glistened along each edge – Poisonous Strikes had activated.
The first Siren swooped close; however, Deacon twisted and cleaved through its wing. It shrieked, toppling mid-air, and he bisected it before it could scream again.
The second latched onto his shoulder, claws tearing into leather, but he twisted, slamming the burning, poison-slick hilt of his sword into its face. To which it hissed and recoiled, but Deacon spun and raked his blade from neck to sternum, spores flickering like bioluminescent sparks across the open wound.
The Siren died choking on its own blood and Mycelial Grasp's venom.
The second Siren hit the ground hard, its pale wings twitching in the dirt before going still. Deacon didn't wait to confirm its death as he could already hear the thundering stomps of the Skullback Grizzly wheeling around for another charge behind him.
He spun, both blades burning with flame and dripping with poison as the Mycelial Grasp pulsed along his hands, fungal tendrils lashing out like nerves on edge as they wrapped around the hilt of his short swords. The gauntlets were fully activated and were practically vibrating from the mana coursing through them.
The Grizzly, while wounded, came at him fast.
Deacon dashed forward to meet it, leaping at the last second and planting one foot against its skull, springboarding himself high into the air. And while airborne, he twisted and hurled his left short sword down with all his weight behind it.
The blade was buried deep into the beast's nape, toxic spores exploding outward like a puffball rupturing and spreading its toxins within the Grizzly, which caused it to roar in pain and stagger.
As he landed hard on the creature's back, Deacon wrenched the sword free with a savage tug, then immediately drove both weapons down again in a brutal X-shaped slash across its spine.
The Grizzly dropped, legs folding underneath it with a pained grunt.
It attempted to rise back up, but the venom of Mycelial Grasp was too much for it to handle with Deacon's constant application of it. Moments later, the Skullback gave a final twitch before it collapsed for good.
Deacon didn't move for a second. Just stood there, chest rising and falling as he watched steam drift off the Skullback Grizzly's corpse. Around him, the grove had gone still.
Too still.
That's when the hairs on the back of his neck rose.
The One-eyed Horned Basilisk struck from his exposed left side. Deacon's instincts screamed as he dove sideways, narrowly avoiding the venom-coated barb that whipped past his face.
He didn't look into its eye, that much he knew. But even glancing at the basilisk's warped body made his head pulse with nausea. So, he had to make do with focusing on the surroundings of the basilisk and its general outline.
It hissed, coiled, and lashed out with its barbed tail.
Deacon caught the tail on his blade, let it slide along the side of his left short sword, and brought his right short sword around in a sweeping arc. The fungal tendrils on his gauntlets wrapped tight around his right short sword, releasing a fine mist of spores as he slashed across the creature's lower body.
It screamed, its one eye flashing, and for a moment Deacon felt the aura try to pull at his nerves, causing paralysis to creep across his body starting with his arms.
But Deacon pushed through, muttering, "I've seen things far more disgusting living in a dorm than an overgrown gecko," and charged again.
The basilisk reared, maw wide, but Deacon slid low and stabbed both swords up beneath its jaw, fungal tendrils writhing along the creature's flesh as poison pulsed into its bloodstream. The basilisk tried to scream, but the sound gurgled.
Five seconds.
Seven seconds.
Then he ripped the blades free, bisecting its lower head with a slick tearing noise.
The basilisk spasmed, eye flickering, before collapsing to the side, twitching and smoking from within.
The Charred Golem thundered toward Deacon, each step leaving smoldering craters in the forest floor. Branches above withered from the heat, bark igniting into slow embers. The creature was a walking furnace, cracked thistle skin, glowing veins of flame churning beneath the surface.
Deacon launched himself forward to meet it head-on.
The golem's first swing came down like a hammer descending on an anvil.
Deacon sidestepped, flame licking at his hair as the punch cratered into the dirt beside him, a geyser of ash exploding upward. He vaulted off the golem's arm, flipping up toward its shoulder. But the monster turned faster than it should've, a backhand swiping at him with shocking precision.
Crack!
The blow grazed Deacon mid-air and sent him flying into a scorched tree, which splintered on impact. He hit the ground hard, rolling over once, heat baking his lungs.
"Shit," he wheezed, spitting out a wad of blood.
The golem didn't wait and stomped toward him, the grass evaporating around its feet with every step, occasionally igniting them.
Deacon rolled, barely dodging another crushing strike, then surged to his feet. With a flick of his wrist, he slashed across the golem's ankle, flame and poison biting into hardened thistle with ease.
A hiss of green vapor burst out of its limb, but the golem hardly reacted to it.
"Alright," Deacon growled, eyes roaming the Charred Golem's form. "… Plan B then."
He kicked backward, digging his right leg into the dirt as he began channeling his mana into his gauntlets.
Mycelial Grasp's vines writhed violently as his swords recoated themselves with poison, like the fangs of a snake.
The golem raised both arms to crush him like a bug, but Deacon lunged forward, dropping low and sliding across the smoldering grass. As he passed beneath it, he slashed upward along the inner seam of its thigh, right where the flames pulsed brightest.
A geyser of flame exploded from the wound.
The golem roared in pain, stumbling forward. Deacon swiveled himself atop the smoldering grass and pulled himself into a crouch and leaped forward, driving both blades into the beast's back like climbing picks. Each strike released clouds of spores, and soon the creature's upper torso was shrouded in a toxic fog.
Clinging to its shoulder, Deacon rammed his Flame and Poison wreathed right short sword deep into the neck joint, twisting hard.
The heat was unbearable.
His armor caught fire. His gauntlets smoked. But he didn't let go.
With a final, savage growl, he drove his second sword down into the spine seam between its molten shoulders and then leapt off just as the golem convulsed and fell to its knees.
The massive body slumped forward, the glow in its veins dimming to embers.
*[Carrion Sirens – Elite Beast Lv 4] has been slain – XP has been given.*
***
*[Charred Golem – Elite Monster Lv 4] has been slain – XP has been given.*
Wave 4 has been completed!
Do you wish to begin Wave 5?
[Yes] [No]
"Yes," he muttered, before letting out a cough, as yet another screen popped out in front of him.
Let's see what wave 5 has in store for me, he thought as he turned to see the vines reach the thighs of the Three Sister Fate statues before stopping.
[SYSTEM NOTICE]
Wave 5: Initiated.
Hostiles Detected: 1
Classification: Beast – Level 6 Floor Boss
Threat Level: High – Moderate
Objective: Eliminate the Floor Boss
"There's no way it ends just like that, though," Deacon muttered, brows furrowed in confusion. It's been less than a day by my estimates, and I'm already close to finishing the Floor? While I get that I'm amazing and all… this doesn't seem right.
Deacon narrowed his eyes. His fingers clenching hard around the grips of his short swords as the fungal tendrils that wrapped around his hands and short sword hilts reapplied their coating of poison across their blades.
Then something stepped through the mist.
The trees themselves seemed to lean back as this massive shape pushed through, revealing some kinda four-legged beast, built like a giant cat but covered in blackened bark and pulsating fungal lumps. Its tail, which extended from its behind, was long and whip-like, ending in a cluster of thorned bone. Its face, however, was what chilled Deacon the most.
It wore a wooden mask, jaggedly carved in the semblance of a human face, one that seemed to grin far too wide.
[The Grovebound Warden – Floor Boss Lv 6]