Born a Monster

Chapter 495

495 Hostile Foraging

Quicker than I would have liked, the Tigrin golem was back, and we made for the east. As I expected, the first hundred fifty yards or so had picked ‘clean’, at least of foods the hobgoblins themselves could eat. After that, the scrub plains began to yield berries and nuts, herbs and vegetables and foliage. Most of the animals could run away. It wasn’t a quest for proteins, it was an attempt to gather as much biomass as my System could process at a single time.

Part of that was how it handled nutrition; every fifteen minutes, a stomach would take a point each from up to six tracks, or three from the greatest remainder. System stomachs could hold up to ten servings of the same type of food. My real stomach... was smaller now, but it would hold anything that would fit.

“How do you find all this?” the golem asked. “It cannot be by sight alone.”

I broke a broccoli into smaller pieces. Yes, I still had to chew, and yes, with those boringly flat teeth that I kept promising myself I’d unevolve someday. “Malkin implied you had no original thoughts, Tigrin.”

“And yet,” it said, “I think.”

“I don’t know whether that is more encouraging or horrifying.” I said. “Is this something you want to know, or something Malkin wanted you to learn?”

Silence. I chewed, rolling my tongue to swallow afterward.

“All right.” I said. “I admit the obvious. I use mainly vision and scent, and scent alone when it gets dark.”

“We aren’t remaining out here long enough for it to get dark.” it said.

.....

“Pity.” I said, “I’d guess a lot of insects only come out at night.”

“How can you eat those?” it asked.

“An acquired taste.” I admitted. “I like the protein, therefore I put up with how bad they taste.”

Proteins, like insects, usually went into my real stomach. The servings, weight, and volume were small, like sugars.

“We were trained to eat them only to survive. You can never know when one will be poisonous, or diseased. Some even cause acid damage.”

“Ah.” I said. “I still have good resistances against those first two.” I said. “Besides, unless I’m allowed to eat the lizard riders, or at least their lizards, there just isn’t enough protein in nuts and roots.”

“What lizard riders?” it said, looking up and squinting. “They aren’t supposed to be this close to our camp.”

I put the remainder of the broccoli head into inventory. Waste not, want not, I believe the saying goes. “It could be considered a warm up for my next duel against Kornath.” I said.

“Your next duel against him will be the last.” it said.

“That is my intention.” I said. “It is a duel to the death, after all.”

“He will slay you, and the legend of the Axe Hero will grow.”

“Possibly.” I said. “But I’m not going to make it easy for him.”

“He is stronger, and faster, and tougher than you, and he also has the greater skill ranks. The true people call it dominance on all four pillars. He literally cannot lose to you.”

“I am a Truthspeaker.” I said. “There is no such absolute combat. Not even this one that seems to be coming.”

As the lizards advanced, sinuous, one of them sent flashes of aura toward us. It was a technique that marked it as more advanced than normal riding lizards... just not advanced enough. I let the pulses of aura surround me, let them suffuse my senses, let them pass through and exit behind me.

The golem flared its nostrils. “If we come to combat, that one is mine to slay.”

“I mean to defend myself. If it attacks me...”

“If Emira of Sands decides to eat you,” her rider said, “Then that is just it; you might as well slit your own wrists, for your life is over.”

she sent.

The eyes of the Kamajeen all unfocused, as they did something in their System group. Probably a vote, it was too short for a full discussion.

“There are six of us, and only two of you.” their leader said. “Empty your inventories, set all your belongings upon the ground, and we’ll let you return to camp.”

“Heh.” the golem said. “You’ve no clue whom you’re trying to rob. Apologize, and we’ll let YOU live.”

“Six words.” the rider said, “Six words to my cousin, and this treaty is done. You will never receive supplies from your distant homeland.”

The golem blinked. “In that case, Hammid ibn Jarran ibn Pesh, I know who is trying to rob us. You are still a fool, ask your lizard how powerful we are.”

Hammid snorted. “One set of blows exchanged, and... DID YOU JUST SCROLL A RETICULE OVER ME, YOU PRIMITIVE HALF-FORMED FUCK?”

“Poet.” I said. “Level two.”

“I shall compose a curse of more than words over your corpse.” he said. “You shall still return to your army, but you shall be dead.”

The golem stepped forward, pulling a pair of tiny swords, almost knives, from its inventory. “My orders,” it said, “are to see Pale Worm here back to camp. Alive.”

I sighed, pulling my shield out, and beginning the process of strapping it to my arm.

“Give me a name.” Hammid said, “So I may immortalize this, your final battle, in song.”

“Watch my back.” the golem said. “Or both of us are doomed.”

I sighed. “Heart’s Defender is still in the smithy. None of what I have on me is worth what winning this fight will cost you.”

“As if any of this is about you, Pale Worm.” it told me.

And then, the time for words was past. I could detail the dance of blood and sweat that followed, and in truth, the riders with Hammid, cousin of Asheph ibn Harran ibn Pesh, were a grade above the normal riders.

One grade... was not enough. Their lizards could have used pack tactics, and should have. Instead, one would lash at me, and one of its neighbors (sometimes both) would snap at it, or slam it aside with their own bodies. One of the mounts was down before the riders realized they were not in control.

Perhaps if Hammid had focused enough to get those critical third level abilities; he had to realize the golem had him over-matched early enough to have Flash Stepped away. To have at least disengaged, and used a movement ability to make a chase of it.

But that is not what happened.

“Master!” screamed a female rider, as I sunk my dagger hilt deep into her mount’s nostril.

True, I was doing less base damage, but criticals are still criticals. That said, my shield was in sad shape, and my own health wasn’t much better.

“What are you DOING?” the golem shrieked at me. “AFTER THEM!”

“I dare not attempt that.” I gasped.

[You have 12/60 health remaining.] my System confirmed.

“They have bows.” the golem said, even as they turned their mounts.

“Oh.” I said, engaging Fleet of Foot.

It was a short run back to camp, and they did not fare well against crossbowmen in defensive positions.

I puffed. I panted. I placed a palm upon the ground to keep myself from pitching forward onto my face. But in spite of it all, I was still conscious.

“That was crap.” the golem said. “Come the day when Karnath is ready to fight you again, you are definitely doomed.”

“I advise you not to bet against me.” I said. “I count over a hundred sixty nutrition from that outing alone.”

“There will be no other outing.” the golem said. “It is too dangerous.”

“Unlikely.” I said. “Hammid might not bleed out...”

The golem held out Hammid’s severed head. “He seems to be doing that readily enough.”

The gasp caught in my throat. “You were never told of Kamajeen culture.”

“What is their to know? They worship their god, who requires them to divide themselves among four classes. Behold, I slay one of their leaders.”

“Yeah! Teach them to roam outside their lands.” one soldier cheered.

“Loki be praised! The animals are helpless before us.” a second joined.

I let my mouth open and close wordlessly. Finally, “Victory is yours.” I said.

“Victory is indeed mine. The potential second leader of the Khanate barbarians has fallen.” the golem said.

“They are of the Khanate.” I said. “They are also of the Kamajeen.”

“I do not care.” it said, handing off the head to an eager soldier. “This proves that they are animals, and that you are easily distracted.”

“Distracted from what?” I asked, taking care to look around slowly.

From the north, from the south, and even from our side, the east, ladders were being set against the parapets, in numbers too great for the defenders to knock them all away.

“I don’t understand.” I said, “Why now, and not earlier?”

The golem shrugged. “Does it matter?”

I blinked, looked again at Hammid’s severed head. “Not a lot seems to matter any more.” I said.

This is important because the serving size and nutrition per serving are mostly independent of the physical size of said serving.

Sure, try it yourself. I got explosive diarrhea later, but maybe your aura is less easily disrupted than mine is.