N. Francis
patreon
Chapter 133: Green Witch
🕑 Added 2025-08-05 14:00:16 +0000 UTCI swear, he has no consideration.
Zoey harrumphed as she approached the Tropic Wyrm Newt, a greener color than the last Wyrm Newt. Cracking her knuckles, she stood in front of the monster. While it was the same level as the previous Wyrm Newt, it was also larger, as long as Eia but considerably thicker across.
“Hey, asshole,” Zoey called out, drawing its attention. As she had walked closer, she had noticed the keystone that Rory had been locked onto, a polished miniature pyramid that it had wrapped its body around.
I hope that thing shrinks because I don’t want to lug it back.
Uncoiling around the prize they were after, the Wyrm Newt looked down on her from above.
In fairness, most things looked down on her; after all, she wasn’t very tall.
Dad always did call me his little ankle-biter.
It was one of her few genuinely fond memories she had with her father, a memory she pushed aside as she focused on the monster staring down at her.
Oh, how things change.
Unlike the last Wyrm Newt, which had been a rather arrogant creature, refusing to take her seriously at first, the Wyrm Newt staring down at her looked immediately ready to defend itself fully. As if to prove the point, inky black shadows began to ooze out from between its scales, forming into the oversized shadowy maggots that the last Wyrm Newt had used against them.
“Rory?” Zoey called out, not feeling like dealing with them.
“On it.” She heard him call out from behind her, as glowing circles suddenly appeared overhead. From them, ghostly green spears dropped, skewering the shadow maggots before they’d even manage to wiggle more than a few feet.
One day, I’ll start practicing magic.
In a few of their conversations regarding the finer points of ascensions and power in general, Rory had mentioned how he was relatively talentless at magic, but seeing what he could do was always a moment of awe. For someone who apparently lacked talent, Zoey could only imagine how long he had spent familiarizing himself with the ‘art’ –if you could call it that– to so casually summon a meteor shower of falling spears.
How long would it take me to reach that point if I started now? Ten years? Longer? Honestly, probably longer, assuming he began practicing when all of this was new, before he had a chance to cement certain behaviors or mannerisms.
Zoey shook her head, facing the Wyrm Newt once more. While magic may not have been her forte, she had something that he didn’t: the ability to gain combat skills.
Seriously, what sort of idiot takes a skill that blocks you from gaining combat skills?
Her skin began to harden, shining and sparkling as if covered in clear gemstones, light reflecting and refracting around her as her skin turned to diamond.
Or what might as well have been diamond, not like she had the equipment to classify it for sure.
“Alright, big guy, let’s get to the part where you try to bite my head off and I punch you in the face.” Zoey strode forward, hefting her shield, her casual jaunt turning into a direct charge a moment later, colliding head-on against the monster.
Grappling with the monster, it immediately went for the pin, attempting to drive her to the ground and constrict its body around her, leaving her vulnerable to its venomous bite.
Zoey resisted to her best effort, but while her skills had grown, she hadn’t grown physically stronger. Swiping its tail, Zoey stumbled as the monster managed to slam her to the ground, its fangs descending toward her less armored neckline.
Except, rather than drive its venom into her as the last Wyrm Newt had, its fangs were rebuffed, much to its surprise, her diamond skin deflecting the fangs as she grinned wickedly.
“Surprised, fucker?” Zoey cackled as she suddenly cocked her arm back and launched a powerful fist directly into its snout. Her counter hadn’t had much time to build up much potential, but having its fang strike rebound off her diamond skin had added a surprising amount of energy to release with a strong counter. Her fist connecting, the monster recoiled, blood spewing from its snout.
Managing to separate herself from the monster, she raised her shield, pulsing pneuma into it as the chain whirled, the chainsaw shield revving up with thirst for monster blood.
There was another reason why Rory had made her a chainsaw shield, because as she approached the monster, malice in her eyes, its reptilian gaze flickered to the edge of the shield, retracting its grasping arms.
Taking my shield isn’t so easy now, is it, bucko?
Glancing around, the Wyrm Newt suddenly began to glow green, as streams of green ghost-lights flickered from the nearby plants, which started to wither and die.
“Concerning,” Zoey said, sounding not all that concerned.
Having drawn in enough energy from the plant life nearby, the wyrm newt opened its maw as a great green verdant column of ‘fire’ was spewed.
As the fire washed over her, Zoey instantly noted the difference; the fire was very clearly not fire, it didn’t burn.
It itched. And it itched something fierce.
The itching intensified, but redoubling the strength of her diamond skin, the sensation faded.
Wonder what that was all about.
Swiping her chainsaw shield at the monster, it blocked with its arm, growling in pain as the chain began to chew through its scales, forcing it back.
On one hand, Zoey didn’t pose an immediate threat to the monster, making the thought of retreat unsavory to it. On the other hand, it could distinctly sense that something was wrong, having lost track of the other enemy that had appeared alongside the human woman.
Like a blossoming twitch in its brain, a kernel of annoyance bloomed. If it could just deal with the durable human, it could track down the other human.
It was that line of thought, or instinct, the wyrm newt wasn’t much of a thinker, that led the wyrm newt to make the mistake of standing its ground. Puffing its chest out, the green energy it had drawn inward was expelled from its body, now looking like black sludge that seeped into the withered plant life. Instantly, the plant life began to transform, spewing black vapor and dripping green ooze.
“Oh, that is super interesting,” Zoey heard Rory say, nearby but hard to notice.
“What is?” Zoey asked, wary of the transforming environment.
“Alchemy. This is undoubtedly alchemy. It’s using an alchemy skill. Transmutation, to be specific. It is forcibly overriding the nearby environment, infusing a concept I’m unfamiliar with into the plant life.”
“Meaning?”
“If I had to guess, it’s some poison-adjacent concept. So, uh, don’t drink it?”
“Right, didn’t plan to,” Zoey sighed as she returned her attention to the Wyrm Newt, which seemed far more confident than a moment prior. Getting a sense for its aura, Zoey wasn’t surprised; it was as if it had empowered itself, its aura flaring stronger than before.
“It feels stronger.”
“Yeah… Some environmental domain-type skill? I guess it’s not just a theory anymore.”
“You going to do anything about it?” Zoey prompted, the wyrm newt had begun thumping the end of its tail on the ground, sizzling swamp water oozing from the ground.
“Never directly encountered a skill like this…. Actually, not true, give me a moment.”
“Please hurry,” Zoey grumbled. The pristine, mountaintop jungle had quickly turned into a marsh from hell; the plants all spewed black smog, acidic swamp waters, and even leech-like creatures had begun manifesting into existence as if the environment was conjuring them.
I wonder if the last wyrm newt had something like this, just never got the chance to use it.
“Right, so I’ve never encountered an exact concept like this, but I have felt something similar. The territory of a friend of mine is absolutely steeped in the stuff. As for a domain-style skill… Yeah, actually, that same friend of mine used their aura to extend their claim, overriding the environment with their energies. I guess you could say that was like an extended version of a ‘domain’ effect.”
“Must we workshop theory now?” Zoey snapped. Every time she attempted to approach the Wyrm Newt, it distanced itself, the environment growing stronger with every passing moment. As it did, her footing only became worse, something Zoey wasn’t exactly fond of. “At this point, I can’t invert my attributes; the environment alone would kill me in moments without my diamond skin, and even with it, I’d only have a minute or two.”
“Patience,” Rory said, adding to Zoey’s irritation.
“You’re a little bitch, you know that?” Zoey snapped at the Wyrm Newt, attempting to goad it. As she spoke, she empowered the taunt with her literal taunt skill. Yet even utilizing her taunt skill, it was as if something about the environment shielded it, preventing her taunt from getting its hooks in.
“Rory? Any day now.”
The acid had begun sizzling against her ankles, slowly rising with each moment. While her durability made it about as uncomfortable as an overly hot bath, Zoey knew an unfavorable battleground when she saw one. Even the black smog had begun filling her lungs, stinging like a puff from a rather potent joint.
“There we go, got it.” Zoey at last heard the blessed words. Suddenly, a golden circle appeared overhead like a sign from god, energy crackling.
“Oh, uh, quick heads up, this might tingle a little.”
Before Zoey could ask what Rory meant, lightning began to rain down from the golden circle like a torrential storm. As they fell, she noticed that each bolt was only around as thick as her arm, a far cry from a natural thunderstrike. Even if individually the bolts weren’t overly impressive, with as numerous as they were, it was hard not to be impressed, each bolt carrying a lingering glow that reminded her of a shining prism.
While a conjured storm of lightning was already a sight to see, rather than strike from the heavens to the earth and cease, the bolts ricocheted, arcing through the air until it was as if she was standing in the middle of an exploding firework or a writhing and zapping mass of yellow string. Standing within the storm zone, it was impossible not to be struck by a bolt of lightning. What struck Zoey –pun not intended– was the fact that they seemed far less damaging than she had expected from bolts of lightning. Even with her durability, the bolts seemed weaker than anticipated.
Yet, while they didn’t seem capable of inflicting much direct damage, they wreaked utter havoc on the malefic swamp, each strike like a righteous purifying force sent by the heavens themselves. Within moments, the creeping threat of the swamp was nullified, the mountaintop cleansed under righteous lightning.
The Wyrm Newt, which had taken to a tactic of lurking within its swamp like some ambush predator, was now utterly exposed.
“Shit, nice move,” Zoey whistled. “What was that?”
“I adapted a principle from a friend,” Rory said, finally appearing, standing next to her as if he had been there the entire time, looking exhausted. “Piecing it together was both easier and harder than I expected. I’ve already attempted a lightning dome attack before. Still, the heavenly concept is not easily emulated, and that’s even considering I’ve seen it firsthand for years.”
“Uh huh, right,” Zoey nodded, choosing to ignore most of what he said, instead zoning in on a few key points. “So, not-lightning go boom.”
“That’s your takeaway?” Rory questioned, sighing before he shook his head. “Let’s just murder the damn thing and go.”
“Now you’re talking my language. Unga bunga it is!”
No longer hampered by the environment, Zoey raced forward, briefly inverting her attributes to catch the Wyrm Newt that had begun to inch away once its swamp had been dismantled. Slamming into it, her attributes normalized as she began to pummel her fists into the monster, each strike rather pathetic without fully inverting her durability. While they individually did next to no damage, each strike carried sparks of her taunt skill, the goal only to keep it from fleeing.
Tangled up in the melee against Zoey, the Wyrm Newt was unable to avoid the chains that began to manifest. Clawing and striking out, it managed to tear through some of the chains, but with Zoey’s constant harassment slowing it or distracting it, the chains began to pile up, dragging it down.
Dragged fully to the ground, just for good measure, Zoey punched it in the snout, glaring at the monster the entire time.
“See, that wasn’t too bad,” Rory said as he approached.
“Maybe for you.”
“Don’t be dramatic, did it even manage to scratch you?”
“Of course, it…. did.” Zoey suddenly stopped, examining her body.
I’ll be damned, damn near untouched.
“Point proven,” Rory said, sounding satisfied with himself. “That diamond skin skill is fucking nuts.”
“Attempts at flattery will do you no good. I’m still going to gut you.”
“Uh-huh, sure,” Rory rolled his eyes. “What if I give you the satisfaction of killing it?”
“Gut you? I would never.” Zoey fake-laughed, fluttering her eyelashes at Rory in a bad attempt at being girly.
“Ick, stop.”
“Are my feminine wiles not working?” Zoey continued batting her eyelashes at him, enjoying screwing with him.
“No, I just don’t like the dainty stuff. I prefer a woman who will just straight up kill me.”
“You’re a strange one, you know that?” Zoey snorted. “Anyway, gimme.”
Motioning with her hand toward Rory, he sighed as he held his hand out, a spear topped with a flag appearing.
“Much obliged,” Zoey tipped an imaginary hat at Rory, drawling with a rather bad attempt at a southern accent, before turning back to the wyrm newt chained to the earth. Walking forward a few steps, she glanced down at the monster which returned an evil glare.
“Don’t blame me. Blame your entire diseased existence,”
“I really think you’re overreacting-”
“My moment, don’t interrupt,” Zoey hushed. Twirling the spear, she raised it, inverting her attribute as she did, before driving the point down. Augmented by her tremendous power, the spear pierced through its scales and skulls as if they were butter, directly through its brain before finally pinning it to the stone below.
“Man, that feels good,” Zoey said with a smile, referring to both the emotional satisfaction of murdering her real arch enemy and the flow of ascension energy filling her. While not an alpha variant monster, it was still a stronger-than-ordinary monster that was higher level than both of them, resulting in quite a pleasant influx of energy.
“Hah, just passed level seventy-three with that,” Rory said.
“Lucky you,” Zoey responded, her level creeping ever closer to seventy-four.
“So, uh, one problem,” Rory finally said after a moment, breaking the pleasantly silent afterglow of their victory.
“What?”
“So… my inventory is rather full. Meaning, I can either fit the keystone, or the-”
“No, I’m not dragging either the keystone or the body back with me.” Zoey snapped. “Grab whatever is interesting from its body, but otherwise, leave it.”
For a moment, Zoey understood what it felt like to be a mother telling their kid they couldn’t bring a toy, Rory’s face instantly falling.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were six, not sixty.”
“Bah,” Rory gave her the finger before he stomped off, muttering about ‘ungrateful’ and ‘age is what you make it’ as he did.
Happy to leave it at this, Zoey approached the keystone, examining it. While the keystone itself wasn’t all that interesting, something else beneath the keystone caught her attention.
“Rory,” Zoey paused, still staring at it. “What is this?”
