Chapter 43: Hag’s Bargain, Drake’s Disdain

The Swamp Hag's cackle echoed through the swamp, sending chills down Drake's spine despite his attempts at nonchalance. The air around her shimmered with a faint, sickly green light, and the stench of decay emanating from the hut intensified.

"A grave mistake, little one," she rasped again, her eyes, like chips of obsidian, fixed on Drake. "You've wandered into my domain, and now you'll pay the price."

Drake gripped his short sword tighter, but kept his tone light. "Pay the price?" he echoed, raising an eyebrow. "Look, I'm a reasonable guy. Maybe we can work something out. I've got some spare change, a few monster parts… maybe a slightly used joke book? I'm willing to haggle."

The hag's cackle turned into a low, guttural growl. "Haggle?" she hissed. "You think you can haggle with me? I am Baba Yaga's… distant cousin. I am older than these trees, older than this swamp. I have seen empires rise and fall, and I have feasted on the souls of kings."

"Baba Yaga's distant cousin, huh?" Drake mused, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "So, like, third cousin twice removed? Or is it more of a 'we met at a family reunion once and exchanged awkward pleasantries' kind of relationship? Because I've got a few of those in my family. Let me tell you, family reunions can get… interesting."

The hag's face contorted with rage. She raised her gnarled staff, and the ground around Drake began to tremble. Thick vines erupted from the murky water, snaking towards him like living whips.

*Notification: "Enemy Using Magic: Entangling Vines."*

Drake cursed under his breath. He had clearly pushed his luck with the hag's patience. He used Void Step to teleport a short distance away, narrowly avoiding the snapping vines.

"Okay, okay, message received," he muttered, reappearing behind a large cypress tree. "No more family reunion jokes. Though I have to say, your family has some serious anger management issues."

The hag shrieked and slammed her staff into the ground. More vines erupted, this time targeting the tree Drake was hiding behind. The tree groaned and splintered as the vines wrapped around it, threatening to crush it.

Drake knew he couldn't stay there. He activated Shadow Cloak, disappearing into the shadows just as the tree was uprooted. He reappeared behind the hag, using the distraction to launch a quick Shadow Strike.

*Notification: "Skill Activated: Shadow Strike (Level 2). Cost: 30 Mana. Damage Dealt: 50."*

The hag shrieked as the dark energy struck her back, but she barely staggered. Her robes seemed to absorb most of the impact.

"Is that all you've got, little whelp?" she hissed, turning to face Drake, her eyes burning with malevolent energy. She raised her staff again, and the air around them grew heavy with magic.

*Notification: "Enemy Using Magic: Swamp Rot. Effect: Deals continuous poison damage and reduces healing effectiveness."*

A cloud of sickly green gas erupted from the hag's staff, spreading towards Drake. He held his breath and used Void Step to teleport away from the cloud, but some of the gas still brushed against his skin.

*Notification: "Status Effect Applied: Swamp Rot. Damage per turn: 5. Healing Effectiveness Reduced by 50%."*

Drake felt a burning sensation on his skin, and a wave of nausea washed over him. He knew that Swamp Rot was a dangerous poison, and he needed to find a way to counteract it.

He tried to use a healing potion, but its effects were significantly reduced by the hag's magic. He knew he couldn't rely on healing potions alone. He needed to defeat the hag quickly, before the poison weakened him further.

The fight continued, a chaotic dance of magic and steel. The hag used her magic to control the environment, summoning vines, creating poisonous clouds, and even animating the decaying trees around them. Drake relied on his agility, his shadow magic, and his quick wit to avoid her attacks and land his own blows.

The fight was far from easy. The hag was a powerful opponent, and the Swamp Rot was taking its toll. Drake knew he was in serious trouble. He had to find a way to turn the tide, or he wouldn't make it out of this swamp alive.