Chapter 2

Crippled by its injuries, the hellhog moved at an excruciatingly slow pace. Each step it took covered only the slightest bit of ground. Hesitation slowed it even further. The spiny creature seemed unwilling to take too many steps at a time. It took the beast several minutes to finally make its way out through a tunnel on the other side of the illuminated cavern.

Claire far outpaced it. Even while doing her best to stay absolutely silent as she crept from rock to rock and cover to cover, she found herself with an excess of downtime, during which she simply had to sit still because she was too hot on its heels. She didn't quite like the idea of letting herself idle, so she looked for something to occupy her in the meantime.

The first idea she settled on considering was her approach. Her mind cycled through a wide variety of options, methods she could use to take the monster down. Of all the possibilities she considered, only three stood out as viable, all of which involved first waiting for the creature to stop and rest. She wasn't confident in taking it head on, even if it was in desperate need of a wheelchair.

Her first plan was to destroy its remaining eye with the dagger hilt she had on hand. Though there wasn't any blade left, the guard was hooked and could be used for gouging. Once it was blinded, she could repeatedly attack its throat until she brought about its demise. There was one major flaw with the concept, namely, her ability to finish the creature off. She doubted that her damage output was even remotely close to high enough given her lack of both might and magic. Even when strengthened with various spells and enchantments, most mages abstained from close quarters combat. And though Claire was one no longer, her stat spread was still identical to that of any other pure caster—completely and utterly devoid of anything that even remotely resembled strength.

Option number two involved leveraging the wounds that the egg-shaped bats had inflicted. Its exposed spine was vulnerable and she felt that, even with her lack of strength, it was possible for her to smash the creature's skull if she were to use a large stone. There were, of course, problems with this proposition. She didn't know how hard the hog's bones were. Nor did she know for certain if literally crushing its mind would be enough to end it. If it did manage to survive, then it would surely lash out and crush her in a single strike.

Finally, the third and seemingly most viable option was to gather up some of the acid used by the eggeyes and dump it onto the creature's head. The viscous fluid didn't seem to be able to melt bone, but it was more than powerful enough to eat through flesh. Claire suspected that pouring it into the now-emptied eye socket would most likely spell her foe's demise. Like the others, this final approach also came with its own set of assumptions and requirements, but none were as outlandish as those involved in her other ploys. All that Claire needed was for her candle holder not to melt and for it to hold enough of the fluid to deliver a fatal blow.

After she was sure the creature was far enough from the glowing cave to not notice her, Claire stepped inside and made her way over to the skeletal arm that had been torn from its owner. She examined the bone, squeezing it and trying to tear it apart to no avail. It was tough, so tough that she immediately gave up on her second option. Tearing the creature's body apart was clearly a pipe dream, even with a large rock. Likewise, she also began questioning her ability to cut her way through its throat, but knowing that its flesh was less durable, she refrained from dismissing the possibility outright.

Setting the arm back down, she first took a quick glance at the inscriptions on the wall and confirmed that they were runes. She vaguely recognized some of them, but the passage's meaning remained unknown to her. Claire brushed the notion of inspecting it in more detail aside, at least for the time being, and approached the darkest pool of acid. Once she reached it, the halfbreed dipped the metal candle holder inside.

Please don't melt.

Much to her surprise, her plan worked. The dish quickly filled with the dark viscous liquid.

I bet the only reason nothing went wrong this time is because I only said it in my head.

Claire pulled it back out as soon as it reached about three quarters fullness. She wouldn't have been able to keep it steady enough to prevent spillage if it contained anything more, and she wasn't exactly keen on the concept of accidentally burning herself to death. Granted, tripping likely would have spelt an untimely end either way, as the resulting noise would surely have attracted her prey's attention.

I'm not sure what's worse, dying because I accidentally melt my own face off, or getting eaten by an ugly pig.

With her poison procured, she once again began tailing the near-dead hog.

___

It took a full hour for the boar to finally return to the alcove that was its nest. Claire suspected that the distance could easily be covered in five minutes under normal circumstances, but the hog's limp had slowed its pace to a crawl.

The halfbreed knew little about the frequency with which monsters appeared in dungeons, but she felt that the lack of another opportunist was a stroke of good fortune either way. The scent of blood seeping from the pig-creature's wounds was so pungent that she could track it even without keeping an eye on it.

Is that a tent?

Peeking into the creature's home provided Claire with a surprising sight. There were clear traces of a pit meant for a fireplace as well as a tent, a wooden chair, and a sleeping bag clearly not large enough for the three meter tall pig-beast. If not for the human-like skeleton laying in the corner, Claire would have begun to think of the creature as some sort of intelligent being. Not that such a fact would have had any sway in her decision to end it.

The humanoid bones were by no means the only set present. The entire backside of the recess was filled with bare skeletal remains, none with flesh still dangling from them. Claire wasn't capable of identifying all the different creatures present within the pile and the haphazard manner in which they were strewn about didn't help, but she was at least able to make out several different types of skulls.

A bloody mess was added to the collection as the hellhog walked over and regurgitated whatever was left of the creatures she had watched it fight. Seeing it puke made her want to do the same, but by placing her candle dish down and using the freed hand to pinch her nostrils, she was narrowly able to stop herself.

The beast's next set of actions only made it even more difficult for her to refrain from violently gagging. It started picking away at the pieces of the flesh it had vomited before shoving anything deboned back down its gullet.

Clarie had no desire to watch or even listen to it, but leaving felt like a mistake, so she instead directed her eyes behind the hellhog and took a second, closer look at its skeletal collection. Specifically, she searched for any bones even vaguely resembling weapons. Unsurprisingly, they were far from scarce. There were pointy ribs, sharp horns, and fangs identical to the beast's. While some of them were buried too deep, others sat isolated from the pile and could easily be retrieved. Far better than a broken dagger.

There seemed to be a few things inside the tent as well, but there was no way for her to get a better view of its contents without being spotted, so she refrained.

After a few minutes of gorging itself, the beast finally settled down and curled itself up, seemingly satisfied with its meal. Still, sleep didn't come immediately. It spent another half hour grooming itself, tending to its wounds with a long, thick tongue. Only when it was finally done did it close its eyes and allow its breathing to slow.

Now's my chance. Claire took a moment to steady her nerves.

One way or another, she managed to convince herself she was just euthanizing a cripple as opposed to facing a fearsome monster. And while that thought didn't exactly do any wonders for her conscience, it did allow her to finally stop shaking. She tip-toed out from behind a boulder, approached the pile of bones next to her parapalegic target, and grabbed two of the fang-like structures she had deemed the most easily accessible, just in case things went wrong.

And go wrong they did.