Unchosen Champion-Chapter 305: The Hunted
As the daytime temperature faded, a light ground fog further coalesced within the forest. An even coat of vapor radiated from the earth. It was far more noticeable than the light wisps of spectral energy that constantly trailed the Mistwalker, but the two combined to add a haunting feeling to the area occupied by the Revenant of Ghost Reef.
Coop stalked through the grassy clearing, steps disturbing the initial thickening of natural mists as if he was wading through shallow water. He was slowly turning his head side to side as he scanned the edges of the dusky forest beneath scowling brows. Nothing moved. The motionless branches seemed to lean over the empty space, threatening to suffocate the clear area with grasping, moss-covered fingers. They certainly didn’t help with the ominous atmosphere.
In the background, craggy rock walls, covered in lichens, were barely visible in the darkness, marking the foundation of further levels in the forest. The buds of flowering spiderworts, clinging to the loose soil caught in natural grooves, had already closed up, and were waiting until the next morning to expose new purple petals to the shady domain. Up top, dwarf oaks occupied the exposed surface of cut sandstone glades, where other trees failed to grow. The obstructions made portions of the forest feel confined, despite the rolling canopies and weaving, overgrown game trails that he had been following.
The dark crimson sky above was gradually filling with thousands of shimmering stars, revealing them one at a time as the red sun faded in the western sky. These were the last moments of half a day spent in the somber domain of the Fallen Zone where he had been stalked and eventually attacked. Coop wasn’t looking forward to the night.
He was staying alert for more projectiles as he finished crossing the open clearing in an unspecified forest within the Deep South. A combination of Presence of Mind, Fog of War, and good old fashioned human instincts magnified his senses beyond normal limits, but the forest continued to reveal nothing. It was as if the domain was emptied just for him.
The lack of any obvious enemies was far from a consolation for his fraying nerves. In fact, it had the opposite effect. He couldn’t relax, feeling like he was simple prey for a much more sophisticated alien predator. The unease seemed justified given the physical attack that had eventually come. It was like he was being toyed with. He would have much preferred a simple grind against increasingly difficult monsters. Standing toe to toe and skirmishing with the invaders was much more his style.
Once he reached the old sycamore that had caught the needle-like spine meant for his neck, he turned back and slowly rotated, carefully scanning the clearing. Detecting nothing, he checked the needle, tilting his body to the left and right to carefully observe the only physical clue of his experience in the Fallen Zone. At least he could confirm that he wasn’t just paranoid.
A pitch black ice pick was embedded into the tree, surrounded by a small, inch-wide section of scorched bark. He rubbed his fingers along the tree, confirming that the bolt hadn’t had anything extra packed into the attack. It really seemed like a simple bolt, fired from a crossbow, or maybe a blowgun, tainted with a touch of the domain’s acid.
The needle itself was as thin as his pinky, and roughly half as long as his forearm. It had no embellishments along its surface and didn’t have any sort of projections that would help it stabilize in flight. He couldn’t imagine the creature it came from based on so little, but it had to have been relatively short range.
He flicked it, testing to see if it was reactive, but it only rang like he tapped an empty glass bottle, muffled by being embedded inside of a solid wooden base. It appeared to be nothing more than a solid metal spike. He turned back, lining up with its trajectory, and retraced its path with his eyes, raising a hand up to keep it straight.
On the opposite side of the clearing, another large sycamore tree, easily twenty feet in diameter, interrupted the flightpath. Either the needle had been shot from within the clearing at shockingly close range given his inability to detect his assailant, or it had some special properties that allowed it to pass through one tree and not the other.
“Hmm.” Coop wondered what he was looking for, finally engaging his thoughts with something other than the primal fear of being hunted.
He tried to collate everything he knew about all the variants of the Primal Constructs. He had fought 22 different types of regular monsters throughout the assimilation, and while they all seemed to have one gimmick or another, they were never particularly strategic. At most, they knew how to take advantage of the one tactic they were best designed for and nothing more. Even the Elite Primal Constructs appeared to be incapable of true, flexible adaptation, concentrating instead on group tactics for simple, one-dimensional objectives.
As the monsters evolved into more advanced forms, like Field Bosses and eventually Siege Bosses, they remained simple, though they also became more actively territorial. Coop wouldn’t say that any of them had ever demonstrated particularly strategic or intelligent behaviors.
Many of the regular variants took advantage of ambushes, digging themselves underground and popping out at the last second, like the hovering Primal Kites or the ant-like Ancient Vanguards. Others, like Ruin Excavators and Ruin Nebulas, ambushed from above by hiding in the tops of caves or among tree branches before they struck. Some monsters also concentrated on forming groups, whether they created small packs or entire swarms. The formations helped them optimize the applications of debuffs or crowd control. Few simply idled within their territory like the Ancient Defenders, slowly expanding their range as their numbers increased, and most that did were stacked in terms of Strength or defenses for their levels, like the Ancient Piercer variant from the Siege Event and the armored Ancient Devourers of the Mangrove Forest, respectively.
There was only one that Coop had fought which had an active stealth ability. The Ancient Prowlers, outside of the Ghost Reef’s fort, were nearly impossible to detect before they started moving, and even then, he had only ever been able to spot them with the careful application of Presence of Mind and Fog of War revealing how they impacted the surrounding environment. The way they depressed the sand or displaced his fog were the keys to preemptively finding them.
Could he be dealing with a higher level version of the Prowlers? The ones that he was familiar with didn’t fire projectiles, instead biting and clawing for minimal damage while applying a stacking vulnerability debuff that would quickly become dangerous if not accounted for. Whatever was stalking him was certainly different, but the actual mechanism of its camouflage was probably similar, assuming it was actually a Primal Construct.
Coop yanked the spine out of the tree with a thunk, wondering if maybe he was actually interfering with the territory of some native wildlife instead. It was the wrong part of the country for porcupines, but maybe something similar had shot at him. Maybe the needle was a feather’s quill, from some kind of evolving bird.
A closer look at the spine proved that it wasn’t formed through any sort of biological process he was familiar with. It was a black metal, exactly like something he would expect to come from one of the Primal Constructs. That was enough for him to decide he was in the right place. As he turned it around in his hand, feeling moderately surprised by its heaviness, it began to disintegrate, turning into dust before floating away as a fine smoke of mana.
Coop grunted as he wiped his hands, convinced that it had come from an alien invader, and backtracked through the clearing. Though he had been slowly exploring the forest with a fine mist trailing by his side, he rechanneled Fog of War with a heavier investment of mana. He intended to fill the clearing and conclusively search for any more clues. If there was anything present, he would find it.
Now that he had something to investigate, he felt like the tide was changing. He wanted so badly to make the hunter feel like the hunted.
The clearing in the forest became thick with dense spectral mists, thicker than any domain he had created in the past. His mana pool had grown so extensively, there was hardly a comparison. If not for Presence of Mind, even he would be lost. The suppression of Fog of War was so thorough, he thought it might develop its own mental stunning effect as victims trapped inside would lose track of their own limbs.
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“Try something now.” Coop whispered into the mists, feeling like he was smothered by a pillow despite being at home in his domain within a domain.
He walked along the path of the needle, searching for additional clues with the aid of his Fog. He knew it wasn’t a bullet, and he wouldn’t find any casings, but he thought he might find some grass disturbed, a rock out of place, or a stick broken. Certainly, he wouldn’t find something as obvious as a tunnel, but it wouldn’t hurt to check.
Other than the temporary atmospheric changes, the area seemed almost completely natural. If he had gone for a night time wilderness hike in Eastern Missouri before the assimilation, he imagined the ecosystems would have been largely similar.
For Coop, the area was far more rocky than he was used to, with more actively flowing rivers and creeks and variability in elevation. The leaf cover was different, with what felt like far more fallen leaves packed onto the ground and piled up around old tree trunks. The trees themselves were much larger than any he would have seen back home. He supposed hurricanes were less frequent this deep into the mainland, and were less about wind and more about rain.
In the end, he didn’t really find any conclusive evidence that anything had been in the clearing with him. The subtle disturbances in the ground could have been caused by himself or even just been natural occurrences. He noted an upturned rock with lichen growing on the wrong side, stained with mud after being depressed for a long time before, a broken twig with both halves still in place, and several places where the grass hadn’t quite sprung back up after being depressed by weight.
Coop was really running out of ideas. He flexed his grip on his ethereal weapon, staying calm as the helplessness threatened to reignite the fear he was trying to chase away. He kept silently asking what in the world was out there.
He decided to try resetting the scenario, much like a battle that wasn’t going his way. Would the hunter be as cautious if it lost track of its prey?
He threw his spear into the distance, and shortly afterwards, activated Vaporform. He became one with the thick Fog of War while visiting the world of mists. The obstructing vapor was a crystal clear window for his senses, but he simply waited, watching the clearing through the unusual perspective. Solid objects were highlighted by the flows of mana, some glowing slightly more vividly with their own internalized pools. The sky was unlit besides the distant haze of a mana barrier in space, but the trees were the boldest shapes of all. They were towering monstrosities, fearlessly grasping at portions of the domain as if to say they weren’t going anywhere.
Coop didn’t move, aiming to confuse his hypothetical stalker. He hoped they would assume he had left with another mistjump and blow their cover in an effort to catch up. He doubted it would work, believing that they were already gone, but on the off chance that it did, his spear joined him in the world of mists, resummoned among the clouds already flowing through the clearing.
His mists shifted at the fringes with the natural flow of wind, settling like a downy blanket so thick it could contain its own internal air currents, and Coop tracked it all. Coop was essentially a part of them, watching as mana interacted with the world, outlining physical objects and concentrating in particular places, either being absorbed by individual stones or blades of grass, or bunching up as the energy failed to further inundate a particular tree. As small currents flowed, he could actually see how more dormant mana in the air was activated, building a small amount of momentum before bouncing against obstructions.
As Coop patiently waited, draining his own mana with Vaporform in a hypothetical game of chicken with his hunter, if it was even there, he let his senses surf with the waves of mists. He had grown increasingly comfortable in the world of mists, even capable of anticipating how individual ripples would paint the surface of objects.
That was when he finally noticed something.
Coop didn’t wait a moment longer, immediately dropping Vaporform and blasting his spear into the sheer outline of what appeared to be a simulacrum of a slender suit of gapless armor. The ethereal weapon smashed into the creature, abruptly pulling it from its stealth state.
The creature was so soluble to mana it had actually allowed his misty domain to flow through its own body. If not for an astronomically slight change in the gradient of mists as they condensed at its borders, he would have never noticed.
With a rush of wind and mists that pulled the leaves from the ground and tore them from the nearby branches, the spear blasted through the air and plunged into the darkness before colliding with the nearby cliff. It carried his target all the way beyond the edge of the clearing. The willowy monster was pinned by the spear directly into the wall, far above the ground. It was so perfectly aligned with the two sycamore trees, Coop had the sense that the creature hadn’t moved a single time after firing the needle at his neck.
The monster may have been able to approach a state of equilibrium with the flowing Fog of War, but the solidified mists of the spear, enhanced by mana from the Abyss, firmly struck its torso as it flew. The creature had been lifted off the ground, and carried through the air by the missile, then suspended against the rock wall, like an insect tacked by a pin, not having any opportunity to react to Coop’s realization of its presence.
Its elongated legs were rigidly splayed out, metallic heels pressed against the stone while both arms grasped the impaling spear shaft as if it was desperate to have it removed. Coop was already moving forward, following the momentum of his throw on foot.
The monster kicked its legs against the rock, a dozen feet off the ground just once before it fell, but not because it had freed itself. Coop recalled his spear back to his hand as he lunged forward, killing intent fully ignited. The monster dropped, suddenly released, nearly touching the ground before Coop smashed the tip of his recalled spear so hard into the body of the monster, it crumpled into a hole that formed in the solid rock wall on the opposite side. A miniature stone avalanche marked the spot, splashing down as mana smoke escaped the carved fissure, pulverized stone transformed to a fine dust.
As the monster dissipated, Coop yanked his spear out and stepped away from the clattering pebbles, taking note of the dark metal shell, perfectly matching the needle that had been fired at his neck, as it reflected the slightly red moonlight from its surface. He hadn’t had time to identify the monster’s aura before he attacked, reacting instinctively to the identification of a threat, but he knew a Primal Construct when he saw one.
This was a replica of the Elite Primal Constructs he was already so familiar with, except with thinner, elongated limbs, a less pronounced head, and an outer layer of shiny black skin. While there was no obvious weapon, he already knew they could fire projectiles, and their active camouflage was unbelievable, covering far more senses than just vision.
Coop grunted as finally had an answer to what was stalking him, causing all of his survival instincts to constantly go off. He checked his notifications to finally get a name.
[You defeated Elite Primal Insurgent (Level 416)]
“Right. No wonder.” Coop mumbled, genuinely impressed by the level of the creatures in the interior of the Fallen Zone. At the same time, the warning that his Dedication was subsiding disappeared, apparently satisfied with any experience gains whatsoever.
He was still shaking his head as he turned around, finally armed with the knowledge of what was out there, but as his eyes gazed upon the clearing once again, moonlit fog halfway dissipated, nine of the tall, slender, pitch-black creatures were staring back at him in a loose semicircle, hunched as if their featureless heads were slightly too heavy for their thin bodies. All of them had lost their stealth when their companion was caught by surprise, perhaps because the camouflage was dependent on some kind of an array that had been broken, but he still hadn’t noticed them standing within his Fog of War.
He blinked at them, mouth still slightly ajar from the notification, and they stared blankly back, triangular heads and thin mannequin bodies reflecting the sanguine night like dark polished chrome.
Coop felt a chill run down his back, but he gripped his spear and prepared to defend himself. It was about time the Fallen Zone saw a proper brawl.
“Bring it on.” He barked, breaking the silence while brandishing his spear with renewed vigor.
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The monsters surprised him, turning on their heels and bounding in different directions away from the clearing, deeper into the forest, and away from him.
