The Shroomlure

“Eeh…” My eyes widen in horror.

    The beast already turns its glowing eyes towards us.

“It’s like that day…” Beluacor mutters, without moving an inch.

    I can’t afford to lose my focus. If we keep standing like mere marionettes, we’re going to be the next to hit the wall.

“Beluacor! Can you tame it?”

“I can’t… That’s a Shroomlure, such monsters are too strong. They won’t listen to me unless I beat them first.”

    So the level gap between him and the target is still too important… I had a tiny hope that this would have changed, but…

    I gaze back at the monster.

    …‘Seems that we won’t be able to count on Beluacor’s benediction.

“Then let’s handle it the old way.” I conclude, getting ready to shoot an arrow at the monster, already pouncing at us.

“For having harmed her… I’ll make sure you pay the price.”

    As much as my mind screams to run to Timoria, as much as the blood splattered on the rocks makes my heart hammer against my ribcage, this monster won’t let me have the time. Not before it lays dead before us.

    Seeing that I have no intention to move, Beluacor casts a concerned look my way. But he has no time to protest, no time to suggest any other course of action.

    Drawing his war hammer from his back, the Knocker throws himself forward. Straight to the Shroomlure.

    As it opens its jaws to greet him with its numerous teeth, Beluacor bounces in the air, just in time to knock his hammer down on the monster’s muzzle, pinning it to the ground. His Metallum magic operating, a part of his hammer melts, shaping into an iron binding to keep its mouth sealed.

    In a wave of its paw, the monster aims to pierce Beluacor with its long, sharp claws. But he promptly bounces to the side, landing back on the ground.

    An arrow whizzes.

    The monster glances ahead of itself in time to catch a glimpse of the arrow. Just before it sinks into its muzzle.

“You’re lucky.” I note. “This one should have reached your eye.”

    It growls.

    Unfortunately for the Shroomlure, it has no time to pounce on me since Beluacor keeps it at bay, chaining the attacks. At least… as much as he can chain them. The monster’s rapidity scarcely lets him just stay near enough. But Beluacor doesn’t seem eager to back off and reconsider his attacks.

    The more we fight, the more it seems to assimilate Beluacor’s pace until…

“Look out!!” I scream as the iron binding shatters, setting the monster’s jaws free.

    …the Shroomlure’s claws aim for the place the Knocker just retreated to. It has predicted his move.

    Unable to dodge in time, Beluacor barely manages to extend his hammer.

    A pinging sound.

    His arms trembling from the sheer effort, Beluacor blocks the claw aimed at him with the extremity of his hammer, the metal morphed into a shield.

    A quick move of its paw allows, though, the monster to send Beluacor rolling in the dirt for a few metres.

“Beluacor!!”

    The monster doesn’t lose time, lunging his sharp teeth straight at him as he barely has the time to open his eyes.

***

    Astonishment. That is the feeling that flickers in his gaze when Beluacor understands he’s been too focused on the idea of finishing this monster as fast as he could. Before his son would join them.

    A rare occurrence for him, to act with precipitation. Of course it hasn’t been the right option. He hasn’t even called his Mimic King into battle… All of that because he was afraid it would bring Tyffeon along.

    Though… How could he possibly allow a Shroomlure to approach him?

“Wasn’t it enough to take his parents’ lives?”

***

    Enormous jaws surged instantly from the dust, where a few mushrooms were scattered a moment ago. The unfortunate Daoine Sidhe had been fool enough to approach the white mushrooms, to reach out his hand to grab some. But the moment he touched one, his fate was sealed.

    He fell for the trap.

    To the horror of his wife, the elf’s silhouette disappeared entirely into his gaping mouth, the jaws snatching his life from him as blood stained the teeth of the monster.

    Oh, how foolish of these poor souls to have gotten so confident during their exploration of the dungeon. The dungeon didn’t forgive the reckless beings. It took the lives away of those who didn’t dread it.

    The moment Beluacor arrived, guided by the screams mixed with tears of the mother, he could only take sight of the last moments of that Daoine Sidhe.

    He had been informed that a monster, usually seldom venturing out of the depths, had been spotted in the area. At once, he went patrolling and yet… he couldn’t come in time to save these elves.

    Losing no more time, he rushed to join the position of the mother, seconded by a bunch of tamed monsters he took along with him. It was at this moment, as he got close enough, that he distinguished the tears of another being from the ones of the woman.

    Those of a newborn.

    Beluacor launched all of his monsters on the Shroomlure. All at once. Hoping to distract it from its current prey. But as it turned its head towards them, Beluacor could only behold the disarticulated body hanging from its jaws.

    Just as he thought that there was no more hope, bark already forming over the corpse of the woman, he saw it. A little form falling from her arms. A small shape wrapped in fabric.

    In a blink of an eye, Beluacor pounced forward, barely in time to catch it.

    Keeping it securely in his arms, the Tamer used mainly his benediction to direct his monsters at the Shroomlure, to weaken it by inflicting enough damage.

    Though… this monster wasn’t a mindless creature. The moment it felt it was bleeding enough, feeling it was losing the advantage of the situation, it simply backed off. It retreated to the depths of the dungeon, leaving in its wake the corpses of half of Beluacor’s monsters.

    Knowing better than to follow it in the forbidden caves, Beluacor finally glanced down at the little thing he had kept in his arms all along. At least it hadn’t crumbled into chips of wood, which meant it was still alive.

    In the folds of the fabric stained with droplets of blood, a pair of apple green eyes, golden freckles beneath. He hadn’t cried since the moment his mother had been killed. Probably out of shock. Silent he was, yet his eyes were glued on Beluacor.

    And then, the little being reached one of his even more little, frail hands in his direction. Catching a handful of his night blue beard in his grasp, only to pull on it. Not that he was strong enough to hurt him.

    It made Beluacor smile at the little boy.

“I guess it will be the two of us from now on.”

***

    Its teeth… It is eerily close. Close enough for Beluacor to let him appreciate every single stain over the sharp teeth.

    But instead of closing his smelly mouth over his head, the Shroomlure lets out a cry of annoyance, backing off. Stepping aside, it shakes its head as if trying to get rid of something. It was the only one able to see it, though.

    Panting, Timoria is standing a few metres behind the monster, her hand outstretched. Her body covered with cuts, blood dripping along her belly, along her fingers, staining her white clothes… But her gaze. Her gaze shows nothing else than determination. She doesn’t tear her eyes from the monster.

“Can’t I simply leave you all alone without you triggering some monster?”

    At the sound of this voice, Beluacor turns his head to take sight of Tyffeon, reaching his position. He widens his eyes slightly, worried to see him here. He shouldn’t have to confront this monster. What if…

“My benediction won’t be able to hold it back for long!” Timoria warns. “Hurry!”

“An unnecessary request.” Tyffeon replies, drawing his sword. “It was already my intention.”

“Tyffeon, stay back! I’ll handle him.” Beluacor straightens up, holding tightly onto his hammer. “This monster is of the kind who killed your parents.”

    It is his task to end what he failed to accomplish decades and decades ago. He knows it isn’t the same Shroomlure. He knows, but still.

“What are you blathering about, fool of an oldster?” Tyffeon snaps back. “My father is still standing next to me.”

    Beluacor glances at him, taken aback by Tyffeon’s assertiveness as he continues.

“It is side by side that we’ll defeat it. Are you ready to fight?”

    For a brief moment, Beluacor remains silent. Though he knows. Now is not the time for getting lost in thought. They don’t have the luxury to doubt, or the chance Timoria offers them will go to waste.

    Thus, he nods.

    The next moment they pounce on the Shroomlure, striking him in the same move. The hammer smashes its head, the blade of the sword ignites as it cuts through its large neck.

    It growls, it snarls in response.

    And soon, its claws search for their flesh. If the first blow is hesitant, it already grows more precise, leaving them barely the time to dodge. Timoria’s benediction doesn’t confuse it any more.

    But now that they’re two at attacking the Shroomlure, they can protect one another, reaching for the paw it extends to attack one of them.

“Beware!” Tyffeon shouts as the claws aim at Beluacor.

    In no time, he pounces on the furry paw, sinking his blade into it. Using it as an anchor point while the paw begins to ignite from the inside, smoke steaming from its brownish fur.

    In the meanwhile, Beluacor brings his hand to his lips, letting out a loud whistle.

    The monster finally manages to get rid of Tyffeon, hurling him up in the air. Opening its jaws, the Shroomlure gets ready to tear him to pieces.

“Oh no, you won’t.” Tyffeon grumbles, reaching out his hand in direction of the monster before flames engulf its tongue, forcing him to back off.

    From the ground, a figure already springs into the air from the tip of its lianas. Catching Tyffeon in his fall, the Mimic King lands metres further.

“Amako, now!” Tyffeon calls.

“Hey! I know, I know!” The Saintess’s voice replies.

    A glance at her allows Beluacor to take sight of the air before her beginning to ripple. He’s seen it before. It is an attack she trained using these last weeks.

    The moment Amako releases an arrow, it is followed by thin projectiles of water. Like rain pouring horizontally. If the droplets don’t harm per se… there it is. He is already unable to distinguish the arrow among them.

    Nor does the Shroomlure when, unable to dodge in time, the arrow sinks into one of the beast’s eyes.

    An opening. Taking advantage of the pain confusing the monster, Tyffeon and Beluacor exchange a nod before pouncing to the monster’s neck. Each from the opposite side, the end of Beluacor’s hammer shaping into an axe, they gash into the flesh.

    Soon, the head of the Shroomlure rolls to the ground, defeated.

“Are you okay??” Amako already rushes in their direction. “Timoria?!”

    From the corner of his eyes, he can see her joining the cowmaiden, who has just fallen to her knees.

    Beluacor, as for him, can’t help but stare dumbfounded at the corpse of the Shroomlure.

    Most of them haven’t even been seriously wounded, and the monster is already laying dead. His son… used openly his Ignis magic, despite the reluctance he showed towards it before.

    When did Tyffeon become so strong?

***

    Back to our camp, the first thing we do is to give Timoria a potion Tyffeon has prepared before our departure to the depths of the dungeon. As a Daoine Sidhe, he learnt in Rathard how to prepare the renowned healing potions. He made as many as he could with the ingredients at his disposal in Toll Dubh.

“How many do we have left?” I ask him.

“We still have six of them.”

“I am sorry… I made you waste one.” Timoria bows her head.

    We’re all seated in a circle around our campfire.

“Silly. What are you even apologising for?” I scold.

“But it was because of my mistake that we had to fight that monster… Ow!” Timoria winces as I strike a soft blow on the top of her head.

    In the meanwhile, there’s one of us who has barely uttered a word since we slew the Shroomlure. Beluacor.

    I take a glance at him, but he seems lost in thought. As if sensing my gaze, the Knocker raises his silver eyes at me.

“After we rest, I’ll lead you on the right track, where you’re most likely to find the young Knockers passing their rite.” He begins with a serious expression. “Thus, you need to know what may await you in the most remote place of the depths. You need to be aware of their existence, because even your worst nightmares won’t get you prepared for it.” He pauses. “Know that the eggs we are supposed to bring back… The creature which is supposed to lay them has for a long time ago now disappeared from the dungeon.”