I have just enough time to regret running into another creature with spell casting powers so soon after the last. Of course I try to dodge. But dodging lightning, even if it's from a spell of some sort, is no easy feat. Of course I get struck in the end despite my best efforts! And again neither my defensive skills nor my armor, my clothes to be honest, do anything to protect me.

Maybe it would be different if I were wearing full plate armor. Maybe it would disperse or divert the electricity of the magical lightning strike? Well, I'm not wearing any, so I'll not find out any time soon. Instead I have to suffer the consequences of being slightly electrocuted.

[*Ding!* You have been wounded! Health reduced by 21!]

Oh! Oh my! That is well beyond slightly! My skin tingles and smokes where the arcing lightning strike raked over me. My hair is a total mess too. Standing on end in unpleasant ways. I come to realize two things then. First, I don't like the smell of singed hair. I really don't, especially if it's my own. Second, I won't be able to take a second lightning strike like that. Another hit like that would knock out my lights for good.

Before I can worry any more though a divine whisper makes that second point a non issue.

[*Ding!* You have unlocked the Spell Resistance general skill at Level 1!]

This notification comes at the best possible time. It is quickly followed by more notifications and the sound of clattering dice.

[*Ding!* Your class Scoundrel leveled up to level 11!]

[*Clatter!* Your Health increased by 3!]

The dice roll is rather average, but I won't complain. Average after all means that it could have been worse and this level up is a real life safer anyway. I straighten back up as the tingling subsides and my skin stops smoking. I relish the feeling of my Mana pool refilling too. I have been going half empty in that regard for entirely too long! This is good. This is so good! I want to laugh, thus I simply do as I go on the offensive again.

"Ha! Thank you!"

And, as I strike with my sword this time, going for one of the creatures eyes with a thrust and in extension it's brain, my expression of thanks is genuinely honest. The poor deer, or rather stag, just helped me acquire an invaluable skill after all.

My aim is true. I feel the resistance, of which there is very little at first, then my blade scrapes over bone briefly, as it slips in deeper until it scrapes across the back of the stags skull from the inside. I twist the blade for good measure, as I pull it back out.

[*Ding!* Critical Hit! Lightning Stag's Health reduced by 87!]

[*Ding!* You have defeated a Lightning Stag!]

The light in the stags eye fades and it slips the rest of the way off my sword's blade. That was surprisingly easy. It felt a little disturbing too. I'll try not to perform another kill just like that again any time soon, if there is any way to avoid it.

My [Blades] and [Melee Weapons] skills both grow a little, but I frown anyway. I can see a few spots where the edge of my weapon has suffered. It's not too bad, nothing a little attention with the whetstone won't fix, but in the long run this will still weaken my weapon. Well, nothing I can do about it now. I just sigh and clean the blade before I sheathe it again.

This little confrontation probably was audible for miles. Maybe even the others back at camp or with Ediva have taken notice. The rest of the gathering mushroom zombie horde have heard for sure though.

I have to get moving again. No rest for the wicked. There is just one little problem. I have gotten turned around a little during this encounter. I need to get my bearings again.

A quick climb up a nearby tree, one showing not quite as much fungal growths as the rest, takes care of that. It only takes me a moment to get properly oriented again. I get a look at Ediva's progress channeling power into her spell too.

There are other benefits to this quick stop, beyond regaining my bearings. Surprisingly enough both my [Perception] and my [Survival] skill improve some. Both are overshadowed by the notification regarding my [Climbing] skill though.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

[*Ding!* Your skill Climbing has leveled up to level 7!]

The day is really shaping to be a fine one. Well, except for certain near death experiences. I could do without those to be perfectly honest. A reminder that I'm still making steady progress is welcome though. It will be a long time until the next level up, but not even that can darken my mood now.

I jump back down, not directly, but from one branch to the next and pick up my previous pace again. My plan seems to be working well enough so far. Most of the approaching enemies in this area are headed my way. Now I just need to get to the creek, with all of these nasty buggers in tow. It's time to make my grand stand. My first stand at the bank of the creek, which will most certainly not be my last stand.

I come across another myceloid forager soon after, as I hurdle through the wood. I don't stop to fight it this time. I'm in too much of a hurry. Instead I just throw a taunt its way.

"Come and get me!"

That's not very imaginative. Thus I stick out my tongue too for good measure. Only briefly though. I don't want to bite it, which is a very real risk at my current pace, especially given the uneven ground and all the obstacles I have to jump.

That earns me a little progress for my [Bluff] skill. Well, I guess it's not entirely inappropriate. I'm suckering all these stupid Quackers into following me when they really shouldn't after all.

More rustling in the forest's undergrowth approaches, heading steadily in my direction. I'm not too concerned about the ones behind me. I have some distance on those. The ones coming at me from the side though, those could prove to be trouble. Especially the few that will get closest as I approach the creek worry me most. If any of them manage to delay me, this could still turn out badly.

Disaster strikes almost as soon as I think this very thought. Ferns part to my left and another myceloid creature is revealed. It's not a mushroom zombie but one of the actual humanoid myceloids. It's considerably larger than any of the others I have I encountered so far. Well, with the exception of the king reigning over this fungal disaster.

This one is better equipped too. Its club is not actually a club, but a stone axe. It's still primitive, everything considered, but much more deadly anyway. The armor it wears is better too. It's still only made of thick bark peeled off trees, but it's design is more thought out. It covers more than just the torso. The workmanship is better too.

Most importantly though, this one doesn't seem surprised by our encounter in the least. It strikes right away.

In the end I'm lucky. I'm lucky because it seems to be lacking combat experience, much like me only a short time ago. The creature's strike falls short and the massive razor sharp stone edge of its weapon digs into the trunk of a tree that is already half rotten and covered by fungal growths instead of me.

My eyes widen, as the tree starts to lean. Slowly at first, but picking up speed fast it comes crashing down, forming another obstacle in my way. Was I mistaken? Is it not lacking in experience at all? Did it do that on purpose?

I glance sideways at the creature as I jump the newest obstacle and take a moment to activate my [Identify] skill, using it on the myceloid. A little of my Mana drains away and the skill improves by a bit too. The next moment a divine whisper brushes my mind, while I'm already focused on where I'm going instead.

[Myceloid Warrior (Spore, Common, Level 9)]

Of course there are dedicated warriors and this one is not exactly low leveled either. Damn, I guess it would have been too nice if there weren't. I have no plans to face it right away though. I just keep running instead. If it wants a piece of me it will have to get in line with all the others already trailing behind me on my mad dash to reach the creek.

It lets out a wordless roar, maybe because it likes the feeling of an identification skill being used on it as much as I do, as I keep running. It's not quite as bad as the roar of the king boletus, but its not exactly building confidence in me that I can take it on either. I reply with a simple, shouted taunt, not even turning around, as I keep going.

"Too slow!"

It is indeed slow. Sure, it has longer legs than the foragers, it is bigger after all, but it shares the same shambling gait. Good for me. Probably.

And then, just like that I break through the last of the undergrowth and am out on the creek's bank. A moment is all I need to take stock of the situation and especially my location in relation to the king boletus and the brewing storm of glowing embers dancing in the air above it.

I need to get a little closer. More importantly though, I need to get to a spot where the creek has dug out a basin that is a little deeper. I'll want as much water in between me and the inferno the wizard is about to unleash as possible after all. I know just the spot. Hopefully I'll get there in time.

I take off at a dead run again, this time along the bank and heading directly towards the lumbering giant mushroom creature heading towards Ediva and her group. Either this will work out, or my goose is cooked. Possibly in the most literal sense.

More and more pursuers of various kinds break out of the treeline behind me now, the myceloid warrior among them. They don't slow down either. So far, so good.

At least the giant mushroom king doesn't seem to care. That has to count for something.

Finally I reach the spot where the creek flows over the edge of a low cliff. It isn't far to the pool below the little waterfall and the pool should be plenty deep enough too. I glance up at the dancing embers in the sky above on more time and come to the conclusion that it shouldn't be long now.

I move out into the middle of the creek onto a rock that just out a little over the edge of the waterfall.

In the meantime the myceloid warrior pushes some of the other creatures on my heels out of the way, as the gathering horde approaches. In a way it seems to be taking charge of the situation. It stops a dozen paces from me, the others gathering behind it and emits a growling hiss. A truly nasty sound I recognize as the language of these creatures.

"Mulch you!"

That is marginally more comprehensive than what I have heard coming from myceloid foragers so far. I just grin in response and put away my sword, as I see the dancing embers start to descend.

"No … quack you!"

Then I push off backwards to hurdle down into the cold embrace of the chilly water below. I'm just in time too. As the water closes above me and I start to sink to the ground, still carried by the momentum of my fall, the world above explodes into flames.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.