35. A Narakite Ghost Story

As stupid as they sounded when they laughed, the Bhootas did display some semblance of intelligence.

There were four of them left now, and they all seemed to hang back in unspoken agreement. The whispered chorus of cheh chah chih choh maintained a constant reminder of their presence, yet the sounds remained too distant for Serac to guess at their location.

This was no good. Her 'plan'—if she could even call it that—had relied on the Bhootas staying aggressive and revealing their positions via direct attacks. They'd been plenty bold when they thought her attacks couldn't hit them. Not so much now, with Infernal bullets were on the table.

The Bhootas' 180 in tactics was irritating to no end, but Serac had to give them her grudging respect. For her enemies were, in a sense, doing exactly what she would've done in their shoes. They must know about [Ossify], and that knowledge allows them to wait me out—wait for me to make rash moves of my own.

Yet, Serac also knew that the Bhootas were here for a reason. It was the same reason any Aberrant in hell would go out of their way to torment traveling souls. These ones just happened to be a little more cautious with their approach. And cautious souls just needed a little more encouragement to come out of their shell.

The enemies had shifted their strategy; it was time for Serac to try a new one of her own. I don't know if this will work, but I'd rather try anything than be a sitting duck. First things first. Cycle through REVOLVER's cylinder to get back to Chamber One. With no time to waste, Serac fired twice in the general direction of the first 'cheh' she heard, hoping against hope that she might hit something.

No dice. Gotta move on. Quickly reload while keeping her head on a swivel, wise to any sneak attacks or a rise in laughter decibels. The Bhootas stayed home, however, their caution evidently winning out over their desire to torment a Wayfarer.

With a newly full cylinder ([6|5]), Serac raised REVOLVER to eye level and… forced herself to be patient. She only had one shot at this, and she couldn't let it go to waste.

Cheh cheh cheh…

Chah chah chah…

Chih choh chih choh…

There! A confluence in the laughter, which likely meant Mr Chih and Mr Choh had, at least briefly, overlapped each other's positions. Serac swiftly shifted her aim to follow the noise, and fired.

[Chamber One: CATHARSIS]

[166!]

A column of black fire erupted from REVOLVER's barrel. Though it didn't find a target to latch onto, it did set aflame every dust particle in its path, while its heat caused the surrounding air to shift. Clouds of bone dust dispersed and rose into the maroon sky, thereby exposing a pair of ghosts that had used them as cover.

The Bhootas, even in the open air, were no more than hazy outlines of winged monkeys. But outlines were all Serac needed to guide her aim.

[140!]

CHHIIIHHHH!

[140!]

CHHOOOHHHH!

Two ghosts down. Two more remaining.

Serac doubted she could pull off the same [Catharsis] trick again, but her enemies didn't need to know that. As far as they were concerned, here was a Wayfarer who could smoke them out with magical fire.

The tables turned once more, and the Bhootas were left with a choice. They could either run away and leave the Wayfarers to their fates, or they could try and take back the initiative. They chose the latter, as Serac suspected they might.

Cheh cheh CHEH!

Even as the battle raced to its climax, the Bhootas stuck to their laughing ways. Serac had to give them props for that. She'd also learned to see the laughter as more helpful than annoying, as the telegraph allowed her to pre-position, aiming at the space the ghost would occupy once it was done passing through her.

[91!]

Ouch… and right back at ya!

[140!]

CHHEEEHHHH!

One bullet. One was all Serac had needed, which still left her with two in the cylinder. More than enough to deal with the one last ghost.

Come on Mr Chah. Come and get yours!

Chah chah CHAH!

[91!]

… And that was when Serac's knees buckled, and her grip on REVOLVER loosened.

The Rakshasa dropped her weapon and fell to her knees, more confused than anything. The fight hadn't been fast-paced enough for her to worry about Stamina management. She attuned to the bar now and saw plenty of green. She also didn't feel particularly exhausted, and yet, try as she might, she couldn't move a single muscle.

If anything, what she did feel was an overwhelming sense of defeat.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

The understanding came to her in a flash. This was Poise-break! Her very first one. She'd gone a long way into her Wayfaring career without ever worrying about her own Poise—so long, in fact, that she'd forgotten she was just as susceptible to its breakage as any of her enemies.

It only made sense. Six hits from the Bhootas' ghost tackle and one instance of self-damage. But a reasonable explanation for the Poise-break didn't make its timing any less disastrous. Serac had been this close to finishing off the last Bhoota, yet now, she was fully at its mercy. Surely, even a feathery ghost slap at this point would be enough to kill her.

True to form, the Bhoota didn't miss the window of safety provided by its opponent's mishap. Mr Chah swooped down upon Serac, with its laughter reaching a fever pitch.

Chah chah chah chah CHAH!

Suddenly, Serac's motionless body was knocked to the ground with tremendous force.

With no way to catch her own fall, she faceplanted. Which was plenty painful and came with a modest damage of [31!]. Yet, even as her confusion resurfaced anew, she knew this latest attack hadn't been a ghost tackle or even a ghost slap.

No, it'd been dealt by a solid being. And the only solid being in the vicinity was—

"Zacko?" Serac finally managed to speak, Poise-mended. "Did you just—?"

She received no reply from the Manusya. The man had gone right back to burying his head and trembling in fear as soon as he'd saved Serac from certain death. And it was his body that rocked and his Health bar that went down to its last sliver, as Mr Chah completed its ghost tackle on the wrong target.

The scaredy Manusya had made his one contribution to the fight. Serac wasn't about to let it go to waste. But how? She'd lost her chance to track the final Bhoota, and she no longer had enough HP to tank another hit. What could she do? Just take a wild shot in the dark?

That was when she noticed, for the first time, strange markings on the ground. Red stains spaced evenly in an erratic pattern—almost as if they followed the flight of a ghost.

Blood! Serac's eyes widened as she recalled that Mr Chah had been the one she'd initially targeted with [Blood for Blood]. This whole time, the [Bleeding] ghost had been leaving a trail of blood, and she didn't even notice until she'd been Poise-broken and forced to kneel!

Chah chah CHAH!

Mr Chah came for her again, oblivious to its opponent's flash of inspiration. This time, Serac was ready for the ghost. For she knew exactly where it left a fresh trail of dripping blood.

Aim, lock, fire.

[140!]

CHHAAAHHHH!

"Hell yes!"

Serac Edin PULVERIZER-punched the air in celebration.

The Bhootas had been what Pathsight would classify as merely 'mobs', but in all honesty, Serac couldn't recall a sweeter victory. Even in her elation, she had the presence of mind to note the inflow of [400 क]—the full credit going to her alone, despite Zacko having played a crucial role in the final smite. Alas, such were the imperfections of an 'all-seeing' system.

Yet Serac also knew she couldn't celebrate for long. Her own [Bleed] was still ticking, and [Ossify]'s build-up gauge was all but full. She and Zacko needed to find shelter now or become well-acquainted with a status effect neither knew the nature of.

What to do? What to do? What to do?

"Wayfarer, I daresay now might be the optimal time to try resummoning your Steed."

Of course! At Trippy's reminder, Serac fumbled around her waist and ripped mini-Ash off her belt. With her hand shaking with anxiety, she raised the miniature castle up into the night sky, then…

… Then what?

"Trippy! I don't know how to resummon a Steed!"

"Simple, Wayfarer. It's the same transformation but in reverse. Do you remember how you dismissed Ashvanaga in the first place?"

"No! I can't think right now! Please just help me do it?"

"I'm afraid that's not possible. If I recall, you'd used [the Frog in the Well] as your model for—"

"Right! Pink sand getting sucked up and trapped inside Froggy. So… the reverse of that would be…"

Yet, try as she might, Serac couldn't quite summon the Zen needed to ignore the distractions and focus on her task. [Bleed] was ticking, [Ossify] was building, and instead of pink sand, her entire consciousness filled with the pale-gray bone dust that grew thicker and denser all around—

Suddenly, a wave of ghostly blue light—one that danced at the periphery of Serac's vision and illuminated the dust clouds all around her. The dust clouds then… vanished. Instantly and completely, as if they'd been dismissed by someone's magic. And, as if dispelled by the same light, [Ossify]'s bone-colored gauge also went away.

[TRIBULATION active (x2): current buff at 10%]

Serac was spared from having to learn [Ossify]'s full effect. Instead, she was left deathly curious about the source of the dust-repellent light.

"Oh my, I think you're hurt. Here, let me have a look."

A sweet, lilting voice. A heartening contrast to the Bhootas' laughter and a soothing salve on a weary body and soul. Serac turned to the voice eagerly—almost greedily—and found the source of both the light and the voice, wrapped up in one savior.

It was a child.

The Rakshasa child, himself barely taller than a Bhoota, was dressed in a clean, simple robe. Upon his forehead was a pair of white horns that had yet to blacken with age. In his hand, he held a lantern, which even now bathed the whole area in its strange, pale-blue light.

Serac Edin had never met a child before. She couldn't even remember herself as one. As such, she gawked in silent astonishment as the Rakshasa boy approached her with a broad, innocent smile that didn't belong anywhere in hell. And she put up no resistance as the boy promptly placed a skinny hand in the middle of her chest.

The hand radiated a gentle warmth, soothing on a weary body and soul. The boy closed his eyes in concentration for the briefest of Ksanas. Then he let go, just as quickly, smiling his broad, innocent smile.

[TRIBULATION active (x1): current buff at 5%]

Serac's [Tribulation] stack was down to just the one, which meant she'd been healed of both [Ossify] and [Bleed]. Now, the only ongoing change to her Health bar went in an upward direction—the [Lesser Regen] provided by Froggy.

[1], [1], [1], …

She'd survived! No more ghosts, no more scary build-up gauge, and no more dying to a self-inflicted DoT effect.

Along with the relief, a bit of Serac's cautious side returned. Despite her gratitude, she found herself frowning in response to the boy's smile. She didn't know what exactly the boy had done to heal her, but she knew it had to have been magical. Did that mean he was a—?

But no. As intensely as Serac focused on the boy's presence, no concrete info showed up in the form of overlay labels. As far as Pathsight was concerned, this beautiful, smiling child was just another soul Anchored to Naraka's hellscape—neither Aberrant nor Wayfaring.

"You look like you could use somewhere to rest, Wayfarers." The boy spoke again, sweet and lilting. "Come with me. I know just the place."

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