Gauss's voice was almost swallowed by the rising rumble underfoot.
The flagstone path heaved like a living thing and shattered.
Something was waking beneath the earth.
He moved on instinct—snatching Alia mid-sentence, legs exploding with power as he vaulted them several meters away.
Off to the side, Serandur reacted just as fast. He hadn't been standing on the epicenter, so slipping clear was easier for him.
"Rrra-BOOM—!"
Right where Alia had been standing a heartbeat ago, the ground arched and blew apart.
Soil, stones, and knotted roots geysered skyward, and a huge black cylinder, rank with rot and sour earth, punched through the surface.
A colossal worm clawed its way up—indescribable in shape, horrific in scale. The portion above ground alone was five or six meters long, as thick across as a water butt. Its hide was plated in hard chitin, dark-purple and coldly metallic in sheen; from the seams oozed a tar-like brown ichor that dripped and hissed where it struck the ground, eating tiny pits into the stone.
It had no obvious eyes. Its "head" was a puckering, dilating ring maw layered with concentric, recurved teeth—wide enough to swallow a grown human whole. A stench of acid and carrion billowed out, strong enough to steal the breath.
"A burrowing worm!" Alia gasped, a tremor in her voice.
A deep-dwelling tunneling monster. Books put its threat at least rating 3; mature adults were more often rating 4–5. There were records of near–rating 10 specimens—and rumors, unproven, of ancient ones that roused earthquakes and stirred volcanos.
Tall tales aside, the real thing had almost no obvious weak points. Everything but the mouth was capped in armor far harder than steel.
Gauss drew Alia even farther back; Serandur rejoined them.
The worm, having missed on the first strike, retracted quickly, leaving only a black pit behind.
"Looks like we woke it up by accident."
Gauss noted this was the only fresh hole—meaning it hadn't surfaced here lately. Odds were they were the first to disturb it since the labyrinth "opened."
Was it Alia's nature power that pinged it? he wondered.
The three of them watched the ruined garden's edge for a while longer. The worm did not return. Even when Gauss sent his clay spider to caper and taunt near the breach, nothing rose.
"Seems the books were right—burrowers are fairly placid, light on aggression," Gauss said, voice steadying again.
Of course, provoke one and it would kill you without a blink.
Burrowers live their lives in absolute dark, sliding through rock as if through cream—eating special soils and minerals, digging, sleeping long, mating, spawning, hatching…
Knowing that took the edge off his nerves, but that first strike had been a real jolt.
"I'm going to take a look. You two hold here."
He'd spotted something.
One more glance to Alia and Serandur; then Gauss eased toward the hole where the worm had surfaced. Information was one thing; standing over the damn thing was another. You didn't wait until you were bleeding to question your source.
His read? That one was more than rating 3. Even with Ghoul Form, odds were bad. And it was too mobile—suppose he shattered a seam in the shell; so what? It could dive whenever it liked.
He slid a step, then another. The soil and rubble around the hole looked like a plowed field. The acid-stink still hung.
He crept into Mage Hand range and cast, all senses pried open, legs coiled to spring back if anything so much as twitched.
When the worm broke the surface, brown ichor had bled from its seam-lines. It had smoked on contact and eaten little pits into the soil. That reaction had stopped after a few minutes; what was left was clotted—sticky brown globes of earth the size of fists. A dozen of them.
He guided them closer with Mage Hand, then touched the white wand to them—Identify flared and settled.
[Eroded Soil-Ichor Pellet]
Rarity: Common Magical Item (White)
Description: Gelled earth-balls formed from a burrowing worm's secreted body ichor, laced with mild toxins and faint ley-earth mana.
Uses: Auxiliary reagent in alchemy or enchanting; casting component for poison/earth-aspected spells.
…
Magical, just as he'd guessed from a distance. The Identify glow was very faint—barely across the line into magical quality—but magical all the same.
He let the Identify light fade and shifted the wand's tone—Shaping Magic rippled out. Mana washed over the pellets. At first, it stuck; then, with a little patience, it took. The dozen fist-sized clods drew together on the ground, swelling to a bowling-ball mass.
Gauss fed in a goblin spirit. It was weak; he'd only begun shaping magic on second level, and goblins weren't thick down here, so he'd only gleaned a few wisps so far.
"Let's see."
A clay creature's strength comes from many factors; spirit-count is one of the big ones. Goblins are puny—but he'd be harvesting hundreds, maybe thousands of their spirits in time. Feed enough in and quantity would make its own quality.
Magic flowed…
Clay writhed and took shape.
After a few breaths, a small, strange humanoid sat before him.
"A goblin-form construct, huh?"
He eyed the squishy little thing. More big rat than goblin, really—barely mouse-dwarf-sized. It did have the traits—big head, stubby tusks, chunky limbs. It tottered a few steps and wobbled into his shin, then plopped onto its rump.
"Why do you look… dim?" he muttered.
Then he snorted at himself. He was expecting a newborn to sprint—the batch was too small; the material subpar. The worm-ichor clay was only a magical byproduct; the golem's white core clay had been part of the golem itself—night and day in value. And he'd fed in too few spirits.
Not enough goblins shaped by the spell… If I fed a thousand? Even at this size it'd probably hit like a trucklet.
The little goblin clambered up. The clay spider scuttled over—just a curious drift in its simple routine. The goblin swung a leg, clambered onto its back—"mounting up." The spider, affronted, shrugged hard and pitched it off.
Gauss stared, speechless.
"Right. Goblins aren't known for brains—too little spirit makes it worse."
He brought both constructs back to Alia.
"Useful?" she asked, eyeing the deep-brown mini-goblin. They'd come here for casting stock; seeing him come back with more was a relief. The goblin shape… was ugly. She kept that to herself.
"Yeah. The clay it makes is a base white item—good as a focus," Gauss nodded. "But it's not nearly enough."
"No problem. We can draw the burrower out again if I push nature power." Alia brightened.
She knew the worm had keyed on her nature surge. If it worked once…
"Alright. Careful," said Gauss.
They set their pieces. Alia tapped her oak staff to the ground. Pale green light snaked down faster this time—purpose clear.
The rumble rose again.
Forewarned, they split and ran—Ulfen carrying Alia as Serandur peeled wide.
BOOM!
The spot they'd just stood on detonated, the earth bucking like a mine charge. The burrower burst through again—this time angrier, uglier. Five–six meters of armored muscle thrashed in the air; each crack of its body slammed tremors through the ground. It had found them. The head tracked Alia, ring-maw flexing, rage hissing out.
As it writhed, ichor bled faster from the seams—dropping, congealing into more clay-balls.
Good, Gauss thought.
The worm dove again.
But unlike before, a fresh fissure raced through the dirt—knifing straight toward Alia.
"It's tracking you! Don't stop!" Gauss yelled as Ulfen slowed.
Ulfen lunged forward again.
BOOM! BOOM!
The worm punched up where she'd just been.
Gauss seized the window—five blue orbs snapped into being at his wand.
Zzzt!
The quintet screamed through the air and slammed home.
WHUMP! WHUMP! WHUMP! WHUMP! WHUMP!
Force rippled off the plates, five blasts focused to a single point. When the haze cleared, the armor gleamed back at him—unmarked.
"Hell of a shell…"
That's why a beast with such blunt methods rated so high—the armor was obscene. Even in Ghoul Form, his volleys wouldn't amount to much.
His second volley was already in the air—this time, he aimed at the mouth. The worm felt it, snapped its ring shut—teeth clashed down like a steel iris.
BANG BANG BANG!
The blasts hammered the toothed ring—force splashed wide.
Gauss tensed for a charger's rush.
Instead, the burrower bellowed twice, body rippling—and plunged back into the ground.
"It ran?" he blinked.
He hadn't even scratched it—yet after two volleys it withdrew? He dropped his gaze to the field littered with gel-clay and couldn't help the grin tugging at his mouth.
He waited—counted breaths, ready for a reemergence. When nothing came, he sent Mage Hand out and reeled in the scattered pellets, stacking them into a neat little hill.
He couldn't help himself; he laughed.
Jackpot.
With this haul, the tiny goblin might just evolve into a mid-sized one.
~~~
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