Monster Breeder

142. Twisted Elderflower Treefolk

The Murder Hornets spot us first. They rise into the air from their places hidden in the Elder Tree’s branches to form a swarm blockade. They’re inhuman, insectile monsters, making me question how I could’ve ever mistaken them for Sweet Bees even with magical disguises.

“I can’t believe they stuck around after last night,” I say. It’d been a massacre for the insectoid monsters, and the Elder Tree himself had slain a lot of them accidentally. The remainder is a paltry portion of the force they’d once been.

“You may as well ask why we stayed with Peter when he kept raping us, or the Harpies with Aello when she offered up her children to Elder Grand Claw for impregnation. Third tiers are the pillars of their communities, for better or worse,” Flou whispers in my ear. I know she’s right. Not to mention that, as insect monsters, they could probably replenish their numbers in a matter of weeks or months.

“Slay them to the last!” I yell a war cry. Now is no time for mercy, not that they deserve it.

Gale darts forward fearlessly, Rosie and Monal covering her rear and flanks. Our favorite Rainbird showers the enemy force with droplets like bullets that tear through the Hornets’ fragile, papery wings. They drop like the flies they are. A few get their venom darts or carnivorous larvae in the air but, between Gale’s ability to levitate out of the way and her retainers batting aside projectiles with their claws, nothing lands a solid hit on our allies.

Then Aello banks in the air, tilting to let us hop off and throw ourselves at the Elder Tree himself. At the same time, Lucinia swoops down to ground level while singing her heart out.

“That music! RRRAAAAHHH!!!” the Elder screams, drowning out the Lesser Siren’s voice in his own ears, but that strategy isn't so effective at protecting his Treefolk allies.

Pitchers, Busty Willows, and Stranglers go quiet and motionless when they hear her song. Lucinia croons sweetly, luring them away from the battle—effectively neutralizing the Elder’s ground support. It’s just us and the old bastard, now.

Sue/Olindia wearing a pink Jellyfish leotard, Mulu, and Isabella (both plant girls wearing dresses woven of living flowers and leaves) fall gracefully with Chris cradled in their slime tentacles and vine tendrils, respectively. Their many limbs catch on several branches on the way down to gently disperse their falling momentum for a smooth descent. The five of them land in the clearing of the Elder Tree’s audience hall like ancient human paratroopers. I notice that everyone is just a hair stronger, faster, or more competent with their abilities compared to yesterday, owing to those Attribute score improvements.

Mulu begins regrowing her Pitcher body the moment she touches soil while Chris scurries for cover. I don’t expect to see the angora bunny girl again in this battle if she’s smart.

Meanwhile, Cottontail descends from Aello’s back with an elegant flip, followed by an acrobatic midair pirouette before landing on a branch with her arms outstretched as if waiting for applause. Even she seems surprised; that must be her third-tier Performer’s Body at work affecting her instincts.

Suka strikes like a comet, slamming into the Elder’s upper branches feet first, flames swirling about her body and wreathing her slender form. She throws out her hands and blasts arcs of fire as she twirls about, causing a chain-reaction of destruction as the latest crop of elderberries burst and spray their fermented contents everywhere. Soon, a conflagration engulfs the giant tree’s top half.

“Fuuuck, not again!!!”

Dura, a barbarian of an Ogress, throws herself against the massive trunk with a shovel gripped in either of her meaty fists like daggers. Their metallic blades dig deep, scoring rough grooves in the wood, her weight dragging them down dozens of feet while peeling twin strips of bark twice the breadth of my palm until her feet hit the ground. The Elder screeches in pain, his howls compounding as she begins slamming her shovels against his base—each of her guillotine strikes severing roots as wide as a foot in diameter.

Then Jonny/Brenda lands a falling punch midway up the Elder Tree, driving a stone arm up to the elbow in the timber like a nail. Yes, they’re stuck like that, but it was clearly an intentional move because they proceed to spew green acidic slime from every orifice. Bark sizzles and peels. Strips of wood pop and discolors. Sections of the trunk slowly begin to slough off. If the Elder wasn’t already screaming at the top of his lungs, this would do the trick all by itself.

That’s when I plunge my axe into the Elder bastard’s brow.

All three of Flou’s Slime bodies have assembled into a massive crystal blood weapon construct—an axe larger than me—the Crimson Crescent! Shaped like a blood-red sickle moon on a broad haft, I swing the terrible blade overhead with all the weight of my fall, hewing a yawning gash into the wood that spews live sap in a torrent. The Elder’s cries are equal parts pain and bewilderment, our entrance the definition of shock and awe!

And that was just the surprise round of combat.

Our barrage of cuts, burns, and acid dilutes his focus by peppering him with so many problems he isn’t sure where to start. He’s not ready to give up, though, and punches at me with a fist the size of a wagon. Yesterday’s me would’ve been caught off guard by the speed of his blow. Today, I have D.N. Radar, granting me third-tier battlefield awareness. I sense the world in a bubble around me, alerting me the moment his arm springs into motion. My four multitasking focuses wield double-strength (Bloodwing + Red Slime) Second Tier Blood Magic, pulling the Crimson Crescent from the wood and reshaping it (courtesy of Flou) into the Scarlet Aegis.

A giant hovering red shield intercepts the enormous Treefolk’s punch, cushioning and distributing some of the force as I’m pushed away from the Elder, momentum and gravity carrying me to the ground where I dig in my heels to remain standing. My Cancer armor absorbs the majority of the friction damage as my involuntary passage plows a furrow in the soil.

Dead and dying Murder Hornets crash-land all around me while I disengage from the Elder’s fist and dismiss the Scarlet Aegis. Gale is putting in work up there!

The Elder Tree glares down at Dura with a single beady red eye (the other a ruin from the night before) and raises a hand to crush her like a bug, but the Ogress has allies. Isabella uses Flower Dryad Plant Growth and Mulu summons vines from her Pitcher body that wrap around the enemy’s gnarled wrist, slowing its advance while the threads snap one by one from excessive tension. Cottontail uses that time to produce her wand, don her magic glasses, and doff her top hat.

The Showbunny taps the brim of her hat with the wand, causing a flock of doves to spew from its mouth before pulling forth a rubber chicken (which she discards), and then a set of linked rings. Grinning with her success, Cottontail tosses the metallic hoop at the suspended hand caught in a tangle of thorny and flowery vines. Four linked rings separate in flight that conveniently slot into place on the Elder’s index, middle, ring, and pinky fingers.

“A-Abracadabra!”

All linked rings snap back into a single metallic hoop, severing the four digits in the path of their reunification simultaneously. Wooden fingers and gouts of sticky sap fall around Dura as the Ogress proceeds with her grim task of cutting the Elder off at the roots.

“My fucking hand! Waaahhhrrrgh!!!”

Suka descends the tower of the Elder Tree’s trunk in a spiral, burning claw magic constructs slowing her fall while tearing furrows and spreading the fire. After reaching the base, the Flamestalker rebounds into the air with a manic grin, double-jumping as bursts of flame explode from the balls of her feet. She proceeds to ascend in another spiral to form a helix of pain and flame on the Elder’s bark.

“That looks fun,” I rumble, reaching for my magic with a spare multitasking focus. My body rockets forward, propelled by cones of fire spewing from my back. D.N. Radar and Flamestalker Speed allow me to dodge as the Elderberry Tree thrusts his many roots running through the region high into the air in a hundred-foot diameter area, forcing me to weave around dozens of woody tendrils thicker than my leg. Then I’m through the throng of enemy limbs and shooting towards his base.

I swing Crimson Crescent in a wide arc, only to be stymied by a literal wall of stone erupting from the ground. Damn, it’s more of his Earth Magic at play.

Acidic slime drips down the trunk from Jonny/Brenda toward the Elder’s face. He wipes at it with his free hand, spreading the sticky, burning liquid to that limb as well while doing little to alleviate the problem. This time, he plunges his hand into the earth to grab a garden-sized clump of dirt that he smears over his forehead to protect his face. That buys him a few minutes.

Raising my hand, I attempt to fire a flamethrower directly at his ugly mug, but a wall of dirt rises from the ground to block my stream. He’s focusing his magical defenses on me, huh? And I was so looking forward to toasting the Elder Bastard with Suka’s abilities!

“THUNDER…!!!”

A brilliant yellow glow attracts all eyes.

Megan had no trouble getting down from Aello on her own, earlier. Between her agility, battlefield awareness, third-tier body, and the electric charge she carries, the Denki Nezumi practically teleported from branch to branch, leaping and catching herself repeatedly until she found the perfect vantage point. Then she crouched there like a racer preparing to sprint as the glow from her hair intensified, and now she’s reaching a critical stage.

Arcs of electricity play across her body, coruscating fingers of light licking her form and grounding themselves on the surrounding trees as the luminescence of her fur shines like a second sun dawning beneath the canopy. The red and blue ‘+’ and ‘-’ blush marks on her cheeks glow even brighter than her fur. Her expression is focused, intense with concentration; her eyes shut tight. It’s taking all her mental acuity to harness the power inside her body. In this moment, mere instants before the ultimate release, she’s vulnerable.

The Elder Tree sees her, registers her threat level, and thrusts an arm as large as an ancient human crane her way. Isabella, Mulu, and even Sue/Olindia send their tendrils and tentacles to slow him down. Such is the Elder’s strength that his punch drags along the full-sized Pitcher Treefolk, Sue/Olindia despite their Jellyfish tentacle anchors that snap one by one like bands of rubber, and several uprooted trees tied to his wrist by Isabella’s thorny vines. That wooden fist closes the distant foot by foot as we watch in horror.

“Give me something that burns! Something big!” Cottontail begs her hat as she waves her wand over the rim. She gets her wish as an emerging big, brown object plugs the hat’s orifice (it’s not gross, I swear), but she’s too slow.

The Elder’s roots writhing across the field grow longer, becoming prehensile and reaching for Megan where she perches on a branch across the clearing. Seeing this, I know what I must do. I swing the Crimson Crescent around and throw it end-over-end parallel to the ground. Its blade severs hundreds of roots in passing before eventually slamming into the earth amidst a plethora of shorn root stubs. Sadly, I’ve disarmed myself, but I bought Megan a few more precious seconds.

Rocks and soil upheave around Megan’s tree, the Elder’s Earth Magic at play, uprooting her perch and causing it to topple. I switch my spellcasting focuses to my double-strength Plant Growth Magic and string vines for support between the falling trunk and the surrounding forest. The Denki Nezumi almost loses her balance in that entranced state of focus, but my assistance prevents her from plummeting to the ground. There’s nothing I can do to slow his fist, though, while I’m thus preoccupied.

Just as the Elder’s clawed hand is about to reach Megan, the final vine and tentacle restraints on his arm ripping loose from their moors, she finishes her incantation.

“…CRASH!!!”

A bolt of lightning sears my retinas as Megan streaks over the clearing in a flash. I go momentarily deaf as the tremendous ensuing clap overwhelms my senses, a high-pitched ringing replacing silence for long seconds until the world slowly resumes its normal sounds.

The tiny mouse girl lands in a crouch behind the Elder Tree, fur dim and drained of power, at the same time his severed hand hits the ground. A crater of coal and embers replaces the Elderberry Tree’s arm at his shoulder while lingering arcs of electricity dance in the hole.

“Missed. Should've taken Accuracy,” Megan chides herself as she scampers away to safety, temporarily exhausted. A few feet to the left would’ve blown out the back of his throat.

“My… My fucking arm!?!”

“Time for you to pay for all those kids you murdered or twisted,” I say, two multitasking focuses drawing Crimson Crescent back to me with Blood Magic while I call fire from my top two pairs of hands.

“Alex! Light me!” Cottontail calls out as she plucks a huge brown cylinder the size of a kayak from her top hat—which sags wide open like a tortured orifice—only capable of lifting the thing due to her newly improved third-tier strength. It’s wrapped in paper, or maybe leaves? There’s an insignia gleaming on one end depicting the silhouette of a shapely bunny girl reclining with one leg kicked out. Cottontail demonstrates her strength again by throwing the conjured object high into the air.

Not questioning my bunny-eared lover for a second, I shoot a stream of flame at the midair rotating wrapped cylinder. My flamethrower only manages to catch the tip of one end on fire, though. “Damn it, I need to work on my aim…”

“No, that’s perfect,” Cottontail announces with strange certainty as she does a cartwheel, followed by a somersault, and finally jumps extraordinarily high into the air. When she levels with the projectile at the peak of its arc, I finally make the mental connection that I’m looking at a giant cigar. Cottontail impacts the shaft feet-first, positions herself, and kicks off to backflip away while sending her weapon soaring toward its destination.

The cigar lands squarely in the Elder’s mouth, his jaw slack in shock. The Twisted Tree-bastard reflexively closes his lips around the savory shaft and takes a long, long drag, making the tip glow cherry red. He sucks the incendiary line down the length of the cigar in an instant, reaching the provocative insignia of a bunny girl moments later.

A second explosion, almost as loud as the first, rocks the battlefield. When the smoke clears, the Elder’s trunk is covered with ash, and the lower half of his face is blown to smithereens and splinters to the point he can’t close his mouth anymore. He’s stunned with shock, unable to believe this is happening, overwhelmed with the sudden and catastrophic damage we’ve wrecked on his body.

Suka descends as a living conflagration that alights on the floor of the clearing wreathed in color and splendor. She prepares to end the fight with great flames swirling around her arms as she raises them. The Elder Tree narrows his half-gaze at the wolf girl and two earthen walls ascend on her either side to slam together and crush her.

But before those walls clap together, Gale, Rosie, and Monal float down from the burning canopy, all the Murder Hornets dispatched, and the Rainbird shoots her water bullets at the Elder’s single remaining eye.

The Twisted bastard attempts to shield his face with a fingerless hand, but Dura drops her shovels to jump up and grab his wrist, giving Isabella and Mulu precious seconds to reestablish their viny hold on him. Another stone wall rises from the ground to block Gale even as acidic slime from Jonny/Brenda drips onto his face from above, destroying his last eye. All the Elder Tree can do now is blindly rage, shaking the land with an earthquake of impotent fury. Suka silences him with a blast of flame into a mouth that can no longer close, roasting him from the inside.

The Crimson Crescent flies to my hand, Flou’s crystal blood body returning to me at my magical bidding, and I twirl the giant axe in my grip before delivering the final blow. Flames shoot from my arms and back as I rotate, spinning in place faster and faster—aiming for the side opposite where Dura has been severing roots to maximize my effectiveness—gathering momentum until I unleash a singular cutting strike into the base of the Elder’s trunk. My weapon bites deep, revealing the endless rings of his ancient reign over the Charlatan Forest.

Earsplitting creaks reverberate through the woods as the tallest tree for miles begins to slant, slowly leaning at an ever-steeper angle…

“TIMBER, MOTHERFUCKER!!!”

I say that, but it takes one final spartan kick from Dura to topple the burning bastard. His core snaps with a thunderous crack, the Elderberry Tree releasing a deafening groan as he tilts, falls, and then hits the ground in an earthshattering impact.

“Does dat get Dura ext’a credet?”

I roll my eyes. “Kill stealer.”

*Chopped down the Twisted Elderberry Treefolk – One Forest Mark!*