Ooooh, Aria, you've really gotten yourself into a pickle this time. Why did you have to give in to your curiosity and follow the humans? Just, why? I mean, I know why I did it. I wanted to see if I could scope out their base of operations. More information is never a bad thing, and although I can't remember much from my old life, I know people are dangerous; people from another world that hunt monsters are probably even more so. As a monster, keeping tabs on them seemed like the right thing to do at the time. Now though... I'm starting to have my doubts. Especially with this idiotic, suicidal plan I've cooked up.
Heavy sword clutched in my claws, I peek my head out from behind a stalagmite, only to quickly jerk it back as a large leech slithers past my hiding spot. Its heavy rings grate against the rock as it chitters excitedly, but thankfully, it's too focused on the knight to notice me. I hold my breath for a moment after it passes before letting it out in a puff. Gah, that was close! Stupid leeches and their stupid patrols. Can't they tell I'm on an important mission here? I'm trying to get your mom/leader killed, damnit!
Huffing silently with indignation, I sink into the shadows and listen closely to the sounds around me. My ears adjust, catching every noise they can—chittering, grinding, slithering, footsteps, and the dull thud of meat hitting metal as the knight batters away smaller leeches with his shield. There doesn't seem to be any more patrols coming this way... I'll risk it.
I peek out again, ensuring my ears haven't misled me (as if they'd ever), before lifting the sword and heading to the rendezvous point. I stick to the deepest shadows I can find, making quick stops behind rocks or stalagmites whenever a leech gets too close, keeping my ears open for any unseen dangers. The knight does much the same, but instead of hiding, he's battling the horde that's currently surrounding him. Luckily for him, it doesn't look like the leeches can easily get inside his armor. As I trudged toward the rocks, my gait unsteady from the deceptively heavy weapon, I couldn't help but wonder how this would all turn out.
When I first thought up this plan, it was born of desperation. See, while following the humans, I realized too late that, after the Monarch showed up, I had walked straight into an unintended trap. With the swarm and Monarch at my back and the humans in front, I was stuck in the middle, with no choice but to wait and see how things played out. And, boy, have things played out poorly so far.
The humans retreated, which is bad. The moment I lost sight of them, my whole reason for being here went out the window. Most of the swarm followed them, though, which is a mixed blessing—fewer leeches to deal with here, but it's still a chaotic mess. The worst part is the Monarch showing up. That's terrifying because if this thing I'm sneaking past isn't the monster from the Mana Leech profile, I don't want to know what is. And here I thought the grown leeches were big. Plus, to top it all off, the one person who could actually beat it just lost his sword. So, yeah, problems all around.
Still, one might wonder why any of this matters to a monster such as myself. I mean, all I have to do is wait for the battle to be over and then sneak away, right? Well, Puzzle, allow me to educate you. To put it simply, I am dead if that knight dies.
I realized this soon after I got pinned down in the tunnel. My way home is completely blocked. I can't just wait and see what happens; these leeches are ravenous and will likely stop at nothing to scour all life from this tunnel system, including me. Even if I manage to escape, if these creatures return to the cavern with their Monarch, I’ll be in the same situation I'm in now, but worse. Right now, I’m in a good position thanks to the shadows and my natural stealth, but it’s only a matter of time before I'm discovered. This brings me to option two: teamwork!
Here's a nifty trick I figured out while following the swarm. Turns out, I'm shiny! At least, a part of me is. I extend my stinger, raising my tail high until it emerges from the shadows, then I twist it. The stinger catches the light just right, flashing with a blue glow that serves as a beacon for the knight as he continues his march. Once I'm certain he's seen the light, I lower my tail back down. After ensuring that nothing else has noticed—cough, cough, Monarch, cough—I hoist the sword back up and continue on my journey.
My plan is pretty straightforward: I need to get this sword back into that knight's hand and hope he can do one of two things. Either he can cut the Monarch down right here and now, or he can drive it away with its massive tail between its legs. Or is it arms? Eh, either outcome works for me; I'm not picky. I know he has the capability to do it, too; I witnessed the damage his attack inflicted on the monster's armor. If he can land at least one solid hit on the Monarch, I believe it will retreat, at the very least. Intelligent animals prioritize their survival over obtaining food, and from what I've seen, this one is very intelligent.
After that, the plan falls apart a little bit. It's possible he just ends up killing me, I am a monster after all. And as much as I'd love to stop him, I know I'm not strong enough. Hell, I don't think my claws would even leave a scratch on his armor if the failed leech lunges are anything to go by. So, yeah, my literal life is riding on this man's empathy and gratitude. Here's hoping that my doing him a service builds some rapport and he at least gives me a head start, because I don't have any other options.
I chuckle darkly at my joke as I approach my destination—and possibly my damnation. I’m only twenty feet away now, and it looks like I’ll arrive before Mr. Knight. Well, that gives me some time to think about how I'm going to hand over this sword.
I suppose the real question is: should I just give it to him? Hand it over and be done with it? That seems rather dull. It’s possible I'm about to get my head cut off over this; do I really want my last actions in this life to be so blasé? ...No, that'd hurt my pride. If I'm going to do this, I'm going to be memorable, damnit. And I think I know exactly how I'm going to do it.
Cygnus breathed heavily, crushing another leech under his boot. Chitin cracked as blood and viscera oozed from beneath his sole. He was tired—his arms felt heavy and sore, his dented armor chafed against his skin, and his side ached from the blow by the Monarch, a strike that had likely broken a few of his ribs. Still, it wasn't anything he wasn't used to. While his exhaustion was genuine, he exaggerated his labored movements for the benefit of the monster observing him.
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The Monarch was waiting, daring him to slip up. Its earlier rage had fizzled out, replaced by a cold, calculating anger. Even for an experienced soldier like Cygnus, it was an unsettling situation. Luckily for him, it was being too cautious, sending its swarm to do its dirty work while it nursed a wound of its own. He suspected this was how the Monarch usually operated: using its massive swarm to overwhelm strong enemies before bullying its way in for the kill and claiming the experience and biomass for itself, but once it realized it couldn't take him without significant losses, it backed off. If he had to guess, that was probably why there were so few evolved leeches in the swarm, and why it had no problem killing its underlings.
Cygnus dealt with another few leeches as he contemplated the Monarch's actions. In his opinion, such a move revealed a significant flaw in the monster's decision-making, likely due to a lack of experience. A monster with more battle experience would have swiftly taken his head once he lost his sword, using overwhelming numbers and sheer strength. The fact that the Monarch hadn't pounced on him yet must mean he was one of its first sapient opponents. "I guess even champions aren't infallible," he mused.
Nevertheless, he wouldn't question his good fortune, especially since the monster's mistake was providing him with much-needed time.
He was only a dozen or so feet from the outcropping now. The small monster had raised its tail into the light again, flashing its stinger to guide him. The Monarch noticed this time, too, tilting its head quizzically at the strange blinking. He could see the gears turning in its head as it slowly began to guide some of its swarm toward the disturbance. Not good. It was now or never.
Pushing his exhaustion to the side, Cygnus let out a slow breath before raising his shield and breaking out in a sprint. Activating his Dash and Charge skills, he barreled through the swarm blocking his way and arrived at the outcropping in an instant. From the corner of his eye, he could see the monster waiting for him behind the rocks jump in surprise, but not attack. That was promising.
Before the Monarch could react, Cygnus activated his skill. A bubble of shield-light bloomed from his shield, enveloping him and the small monster in a translucent barrier of light. Screeching ensued as the shield forced the remnants of the swarm away, but Cygnus paid them no mind. Instead, he focused on a truly bizarre scene.
Half in shadows, half in light, the small monster was unlike any he had seen before. Smaller than he had initially assumed, the reptilian creature’s head barely came up to his knee and it was much longer than it was tall. If he had to guess, the monster was only Tier One. Its body was slender yet well-built, with a dusky hue speckled with what looked like stars. The monster was currently kneeling, holding his sword in two disturbingly human-like hands. With a reverence that thoroughly confused him, the creature raised his sword and presented it to him like one would in a ceremony. As he approached, he observed the creature more closely, paying no mind to the confused and slightly panicked chittering of the Monarch outside. Its time would come soon enough; for now, he was curious about this new monster.
The creature had a long, almost elegant head, adorned with large, bat-like ears that flared out to the sides and twitched with every footfall. Its long tail, tipped with a several-inch-long stinger, swished jerkily behind it, betraying the monster's nerves. However, what captured his attention most were its eyes. Those brilliant golden orbs, the color of fresh honey, observed him with a blend of intelligence and caution, almost as if they were studying him as much as he was studying them. There was something about the calm, non-hostile standoff that unnerved him; it unsettled him even more than the Monarch did.
As if to assuage his fears, the monster bowed low, head almost touching the ground as it raised the sword higher. The awkward position put the monster entirely at his mercy; if he wanted to, Cygnus could crush its skull without a second thought. But the display made him pause. It wasn't showing any hostility at all, and in fact prostrating itself before him. That was learned behavior. No Tier One monster could be this intelligent without being a champion. But with how rare champion monsters were, it was highly unlikely there were two in the same spot at the same time. So, what was it?
Could it be a Pet? It's possible it might belong to one of the patrol teams, but he hadn’t received any paperwork regarding new Pet acquisitions in weeks.
In the city of Cotel, owning a Pet was encouraged, but it was also a highly regulated process. Anyone wanting a Pet had to report their intent to the government and undergo a series of tests before they were even allowed to reconstitute a monster's core. Once approved, the process continued: the core had to be inspected, documented, and then reconstituted in front of a certified Tamer.
This thorough documentation served multiple purposes. It helped the government keep track of both local and exotic species, weed out abusive owners, and it significantly reduced Pet-related crimes by making it easy to trace a Pet back to its owner. Having an undocumented Pet was considered a serious issue, especially if the creature was of an unknown species. The possibility that the Pet was a champion monster only added to the concern, as all champions' cores were legally required to be sold to the government for research purposes.
If Cygnus's hunch was right, this small creature was an undocumented champion Pet—a fact that put him in an incredibly difficult position. It was currently helping him, and for reasons he couldn't even begin to guess. He watched as the monster squirmed under his gaze, clearly uncomfortable with the sudden scrutiny.
If he was being honest with himself, the smart thing to do would be to kill it. Murder-for-hire using Pets, while not common, wasn't unheard of. The Dungeon was a perfect place for it; people died to monsters all the time, making it easy to pin the crime on a random wild creature. Even a Tier One could easily kill a person if they let their guard down. But that didn't make sense here. Why would a potential assassin go through all the trouble to use such a rare and valuable low-tier champion Pet just to lull him into a false sense of security, especially if he was in such a precarious situation already?
He debated in his head for a few seconds before coming to a conclusion. With a heavy sigh, he reached down and took his blade from the monster's hands. The creature scurried back a few feet, its long tail twitching nervously. It raised its head to meet his gaze, its intelligent golden eyes shining with unreadable emotions. There were too many unknowns, but it was his duty to figure them out. He'd take it back to the city with him, though it would be bound. Monster or not, it had helped him, and his creed would not allow him to abandon it. Perhaps he could find its owner and get some answers for himself.
Turning back to the horde of monsters held at bay by shield-light, he readied his weapon. He glanced back at the small creature; its eyes were locked onto the horde as well, its tail raised and teeth bared in a display of resolve. Cygnus nodded approvingly. The creature would need every bit of that resolve to survive the coming battle.
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