New Scenario Unlocked

Ohh that wasn’t supposed to happen. Of course, in theory, it was indeed possible. This much, I can’t deny.

    Just like the dungeon’s beast can morph part of its dark slime into simple items like eggs, imitating so far as the taste, it can theoretically wholly morph itself into another character.

    As we stare dumbfounded at the beast’s new form, a horrendous thought crosses my mind.

“Wait… To what extent has it copied Umbrestio?..”

    The monster smirks, letting out a chuckle as he pulls off Tyffeon’s dagger from the slime tendrils it was still stuck in, tossing it aside. As it predicted, it’s no more affected by the Tamers’ benedictions. However, Umbrestio doesn’t reappear.

“That is… that isn’t the real one, is it?” Timoria stutters, confused. “Did it absorb Umbrestio? Is he…?”

“I… I don’t know.” I reply.

“Interesting. How interesting to see that you’re still concerned about what may have happened to someone other than yourself.” The beast utters, stepping forward. “Usually, the ones who reach this place are already consumed by their nightmares. We should correct this, shouldn’t we? Oh, I know. I’ll let you fight among yourselves, and will grant a-”

    A beat.

    Before the beast finishes its sentence, it reaches out its hand to cup its face. As if suffering from a sudden headache.

    Is it…? I cast a glance at Timoria, but she shakes her head the moment she notices it.

“I did nothing. It’s not my benediction…” She frowns, worried, as she turns her eyes back to the beast. “I already tried to use it. But… I think it can’t work on something that has no fear. That’s not a regular monster.”

    Her words only serve to feed the unease growing inside me.

    As we speak, the beast’s skin takes on a grey shade, darker than with the mine’s dust usually dirtying the Knockers.

“Step back… Step away from it!” I warn.

    They have blended.

“Don’t stay close, it’s tainted!”

    It not only reproduced Umbrestio’s body… Despite it keeps its own personality, that goes beyond… Is it because Umbrestio is the beast’s shadow? More than a copy… More authentic than it should be. Mixed with the original, their sins are now combined.

    It growls, raising amber eyes filled with black sclera at us.

    That shouldn’t happen. That isn’t a route of the original scenario. And yet…

“I will turn you all into food for the dungeon.”

    …the dungeon’s beast has now become the emissary of the Taint.

“If it has become Umbrestio, will it fight like it would have in his scenario?” I wonder, confused. “Ahh!! There’s no time!”

    As we hurry to pick up the unconscious Knockers and gather, the ground right around the emissary begins to bubble, to wobble.

“Climb on the ruins!” I urge. “On the fallen walls, pillars, whatever that isn’t ground!! Quick!”

    I have barely finished my sentence when the area wobbling around the emissary extends at a frightening speed, barely letting us anough time to get safe from the ground turning into mud. The ruins begin to float over the thick mass. The walls, and other remnants of construction still standing, fall one after the other with a sucking sound.

“Impossible…” Beluacor stares in disbelief. “Umbrestio’s magic doesn’t work on such a vast area…”

    A blink of an eye. That’s all it has taken the emissary to merge this whole place into a muddy sea, as far, that is, as the eye can see.

“It’s the Taint… It has made him… no, it, stronger than it is.” I bite my thumb’s nail in frustration.

    Is it the cost for trying to force the game to take a precise route? Goddamn,.. I haven’t asked to unlock a new scenario.

    This said. Our objective remains unchanged. And so far, we at least avoided Beluacor’s scenario. We have even managed to prevent the younger Knockers from getting absorbed. Speaking of which…

“All right…” I frown. “Let’s just defeat the emissary. But we can’t just all pounce at it, someone has to protect our sleeping princesses. I’m not sure if it’ll be enough of me for that.”

“I might have a solution.” Beluacor utters, his Mimic King approaching him.

“Humm?”

    I turn to him, but at the same time, a sinister laugh echoes through the cave. Little by little, muddy forms outstretch from the brownish sea, shaping into hands.

“I’ll handle that!” Tyffeon exclaims as he pours the content of a phial over his wounded arm. Soon enough, he jumps from the floating wall to a lower piece of ruin protruding from the mud.

“Remember what I told you!” I scream at him.

“I will.” He draws his sword, letting it ignite as he swivels it around, each one of his blows cutting through the hands. Letting them fall down like the mere piles of mud they’re supposed to be.

    As soon as he finishes off the threats close to us, he rushes forward. From one ruin fragment to another, he gets closer to the emissary’s position.

    With the moment’s rest gifted by Tyffeon, we help Beluacor secure the other Knockers… into the living wooden chest.

“Don’t swallow them.” Beluacor raises a threatening finger at his Mimic. “Understood?”

    A brief jolt agitates the monster as if aware of what it risks. It smoothly closes its upper part over the Knockers before getting away, finding its way among the stone debris.

“Will they be okay?” Timoria worries, her hands pressed against her chest.

    Beluacor glances at her.

“That’s a rare monster after all, it just needs to remain as far as it can from the emissary.” He pauses, pressing his hands against his hips. “The worst they risk is getting eaten by accident.”

“Ehh?”

    Pearls of sweat form on Timoria’s forehead.

    Turning back to Tyffeon, I get ready to support him, drawing my bow and an arrow.

    Not wasting his time, he’s already half way to the emissary when a muddy hand suddenly surges in his way. Surges? Oh my, briefly though. A clean blow and he gets rid of it. But it is enough to make him lose his balance.

    A misstep.

    Tyffeon widens his eyes as he falls back, straight towards the bubbling sludge. Getting swallowed into the mud is definitely the best way to shorten one’s life, and Beluacor is already about to pounce forward. But then, the mud beneath his son begins to emit smoke, drying just in time for Tyffeon to land on solid ground.

“That was close.” He mutters, frowning.

    Already pouncing forward, he doesn’t wait for the mud to catch him as he makes his own path straight to his enemy. His magic allowing him to dry large enough portions of mud to let him briefly step on.

    A loud, clicking noise. Metal against metal.

    The moment he has landed on the pillar the emissary is standing on, Tyffeon has swung his sword. A mighty blow the emissary has parried with the pick he holds close to him, not averting his gaze from Tyffeon’s. Both glaring back at each other.

    As they take a step back, their weapons soon resume to clash, to rattle, as they chain their blows.

“Your resistance is vain.” The emissary threatens. “You will all end up feeding the dungeon.”

    The beast attempts to sink its sharp pick into Tyffeon’s shoulder, but the latter parries with the flat of his sword, the weapon trembling in Tyffeon’s arms from the sheer effort.

“All of you… All of you will become part of it!!”

“Stop shouting, will you?” Tyffeon grits his teeth. “That’s becoming particularly annoying.”

    Suddenly, the handle of the emissary’s pick ignites, the wood turning into cinders as the fake Umbrestio is forced to let go of his weapon, the remnants of the pick falling to the ground with a thud.

“You’d better take care of what is yours. Else, your head will be the next thing you lose.”

    If muddy hands surge from the ground to attack Tyffeon, they turn dry almost at once, barely having the time to even brush him. A mighty blow of his sword is enough to crumble them, letting him pounce straight onto the emissary. Despite the step back it takes, it can’t avoid the blade of Tyffeon’s sword, cutting through its neck.

    Instead of blood, a black substance wriggles at the cut. It wriggles, wriggles, soon letting the neck untouched.

“Tssk.”

“Vain… I told you it was vain…”

    Before Tyffeon has the time to react, the emissary suddenly bounces off the pillar.

    Straight into the mud.

    Taken aback, Tyffeon turns around, his eyes scanning the wobbling surface, searching for any hint of the emissary’s presence.

“Soon, the nightmares will no more be hidden, the sinners will all turn into the eggs they sought after.” The voice suddenly echoes all around, as if coming from multiple mouths at once.

    Well, it is actually the case.

    On either side, five silhouettes stand over debris scattered all around Tyffeon.

“They will be reborn, they will join the Rotten Lord.”

    Five identical silhouettes.

    Tyffeon grimaces.

“Talk about a pain in the neck.”

    He isn’t surprised though, as I warned him a few days ago what would happen if Umbrestio got tainted.

    I let out a sigh.

“What a relief. Somehow, it follows the same patterns as Umbrestio. Maybe not that much of a new scenario, after all?”

     We have no time for a break, though. Among these multiple Umbrestio, only one of them is the emissary, the others being mere mud puppets.

    In a blink of an eye, Beluacor disappears from my side, hurling himself down onto the wobbling ground. His war hammer outstretched, he brings it down at full speed. And where mud should have splattered all around, it is instead a wave of iron which surges from the edge of his hammer. Covering the mud, Beluacor creates himself a path to one of the silhouettes.

    In the meanwhile, Tyffeon reaches another one.

    While they handle them, I aim as well at one of the Umbrestio, using the technique I already used against the Shroomlure. Rain might still be harmless, but it allows me to make the point where my arrow will land almost unpredictable. It has truly been a pain, though, to make it rain other than the natural way… Worth it, though.

    My arrow whizzes through the air hidden among droplets sharing a same shape, not missing its spot right between the eyes of the… not emissary. A mere mud puppet which soon dissolves.

    Reaching out her hand from a neighbouring stone debris, Timoria hurls leaves from the branches which have grown in her back. The verdant gust slays the fourth mud puppet, Tyffeon and Beluacor having just finished their own target.

    Both of them turn their gaze at once to the last standing Umbrestio. The emissary…

    In a same move, they pounce at it.

“We weren’t done talking.” Tyffeon tells his father, not parting his gaze from the emissary as they land on the half immersed remnant it occupies.

“Is it truly the right moment?” Beluacor frowns, already getting ready to strike another blow with his hammer.

“I loathe getting interrupted.” My grumpy elf retorts, drawing his sword.

    A beat.

    Leaving dust in their wake, they throw themselves at the emissary. The latter glances at his right, at his left, hardly knowing on whom to focus.

“It isn’t because I learnt that you once committed a mistake, as terrible as it may be, that it will erase the years we spent together.” Tyffeon resumes, the blade of his sword cutting through the emissary at the same moment as Beluacor’s hammer crushes it. “You’re still my father.”

     Beluacor widens his eyes at his words, turning his head towards Tyffeon.

“There! They did it!” I think at the sight of the emissary’s silhouette, now pulsing with black tendrils where the blows have struck it. “They inflicted enough damage to end the current boss phase. Now, even if the emissary uses its enhanced benediction to turn into monsters’ shadows, they-”

    The silhouette of the emissary begins to bubble, black bubbles literally shrouding it as the silhouette suddenly inflates, distorts, taking back its initial beast shape.

    Quickly. Far too quickly.

    Not letting enough time for Tyffeon and Beluacor to back off… as they are engulfed by the black and violet slime.