Six stood at the entrance to the Spore Lord's chamber, Inky coiled in her hand, rage burning cold in her chest.
"My Queen," Gorm whispered behind her. "We should go. Find other exit. That thing is—"
"That thing is the reason your wife went mad." Six's voice was flat. Hard. "That thing is the reason every twisted creature in this land is broken. And that thing is planning to poison my home next."
She stepped into the chamber.
The mushrooms squelched beneath her boots. The air was thick with spores visible as a faint haze in the bioluminescent glow, swirling with each movement she made. The Spore Lord sat upon its throne of petrified wood, those horrible phosphorescent eyes still closed in apparent satisfaction after its meeting.
Six walked until she stood thirty feet from the throne.
Then she stopped.
"Hey. Fungus face."
The Spore Lord's eyes opened.
They focused on her slowly, lazily, like a cat noticing a mouse that had wandered too close. The massive fly agaric cap tilted, those bone-white spots catching the light.
"Little thing." The voice bubbled up wet and resonant, echoing through the chamber. "You are not my guest. You are not my payment. What are you?"
"I'm the witch who just heard your whole conversation with Farquat's errand boy." Six let Inky uncoil, the whip's tip kissing the mycelium carpet. "The Red Spores. The seven refinements. The plan to poison the Black Forest."
The Spore Lord was silent for a long moment.
Then it laughed.
The sound was horrible—a wet, gurgling thing that sent fresh clouds of spores puffing from its slit gills. The mushrooms around the chamber seemed to shiver in response, their caps trembling.
"And what do you intend to do with this knowledge, little thing? Run to the fairy lords? Warn the creatures of the forest?" Those glowing eyes narrowed with amusement. "They would not believe you. And even if they did... it is already too late. The corruption has spread for years. The madness is already rooted."
"Maybe." Six's grip tightened on Inky. "But I can still stop it from getting worse. Starting with you."
Another bubbling laugh.
"You threaten me? In my own domain?" The Spore Lord gestured with one arm—Six hadn't even noticed it had arms until now, fungal limbs unfolding from beneath the cap like horrible appendages. "I am the Spore Lord. I am the rot beneath. I have grown in these depths for centuries, fed on things you cannot imagine, become something beyond your comprehension."
"Yeah, yeah. Big scary mushroom. Very impressive." Six cracked Inky once—SNAP—the sound echoing sharply. "I've killed a lot of things that thought they were beyond my comprehension. You want to find out if you're different?"
The Spore Lord's smile faded.
"Insolent little whor—"
"Gorm. Now."
The ogre burst from the shadows behind her.
He'd circled wide while Six talked, moving with surprising stealth for something his size, positioning himself at the Spore Lord's flank. His tree-trunk club was already swinging—a massive overhead blow aimed at the creature's stalk.
CRUNCH!
The impact sent chunks of fungal flesh flying. The Spore Lord shrieked—a sound like tearing wet paper amplified a thousand times—and lurched sideways on its throne.
"YOU DARE—"
Six was already moving.
She dissolved into shadow, the Veil of Wanton Shadows carrying her forward in a streak of violet-black smoke. She passed through the Spore Lord's massive form, feeling the resistance of fungal flesh, the wrongness of its alien anatomy—
And rematerialized behind it.
A nude mirage of herself flickered into existence before the creature's face, blowing a mocking kiss.
The Spore Lord's eyes went wide with confusion, with sudden desire, its attention fracturing—
CRACK!
Inky sang through the air and wrapped around one of the Spore Lord's fungal arms.
[ -62 ]
[ CONSTRICT APPLIED ]
Tentacles materialized and yanked, pulling the arm taut, throwing the massive creature off-balance.
"GORM! THE BASE!"
The ogre didn't hesitate. He swung again, targeting the point where the Spore Lord's stalk met its throne—the root system, the foundation.
CRUNCH!
More fungal flesh tore. The Spore Lord screamed again, thrashing, spores exploding from every surface of its body in a massive cloud.
Six circulated her breath and kept moving. The spores in their natural non-refined state were not harmful.
She lashed out with Inky again—CRACK—catching one of the Spore Lord's glowing eyes.
[ -48 ]
[ BLINDED (Partial) ]
"ENOUGH!" The Spore Lord's voice boomed through the chamber with physical force. Six staggered, ears ringing. Gorm stumbled back, nearly losing his footing.
And then the mushrooms began to move.
All around the chamber, the carpet of fungi shifted. Caps opened. Stalks twisted. Things that had looked like simple toadstools revealed themselves as something else entirely—mushroom creatures, dozens of them, pulling themselves free from the ground with wet, tearing sounds.
They weren't large—knee-high at most—but there were so many.
"Did you think I was alone, little thing?" The Spore Lord's damaged eye wept phosphorescent fluid, but its smile had returned. "I am the Spore Lord. I am the colony. I am legion."
The mushroom creatures swarmed forward.
"Gorm! Circle up!"
Six and the ogre moved back-to-back as the horde closed in. The little mushroom things were fast—scuttling on root-like legs, their caps splitting open to reveal rings of tiny teeth.
Six lashed out with Inky—CRACK CRACK CRACK—each strike sending one of the creatures flying, but more kept coming. Gorm swept his club in wide arcs, crushing three, four, five at a time, but they just kept coming.
"There are too many!" Gorm bellowed.
"I noticed!"
Six's mind raced.
Fire. Mushrooms hate fire.
"Cover me! Ten seconds!"
She holstered Inky and raised both hands, summoning every ounce of power she could muster. Pink flames began to gather around her palms—not the focused blast of Witch Fire, but something bigger. Something hotter.
The mushroom creatures sensed the danger. They surged forward, desperate to stop her—
Gorm stepped into their path.
"YOU DO NOT TOUCH QUEEN!"
His club became a whirlwind of destruction, crushing, smashing, obliterating everything that came close. The Beaked Helm on his head released a disorienting screech as one of the creatures bit his leg, staggering the nearby swarm.
Five seconds.
The flames around Six's hands grew brighter. Hotter. The air shimmered with heat.
Three seconds.
"STOP HER!" The Spore Lord's voice was desperate now. "STOP HER NOW!"
One second.
Six thrust her hands forward.
"WITCH FLARE!"
FWOOOOOOM!
A wave of searing pink flame erupted outward in all directions—not a focused blast, but an explosion of fire that swept across the chamber floor. Mushroom creatures ignited like kindling, their tiny bodies consumed in seconds, their screams high-pitched and horrible.
The fungal carpet caught fire.
The spore-filled air ignited.
For one glorious, terrible moment, the entire chamber became an inferno.
When the flames died down, Six stood in a circle of charred devastation, breathing hard, her hands still smoking.
The mushroom horde was gone—reduced to ash and cinders. The fungal carpet had been scorched black. Even the bioluminescent moss on the walls had dimmed, damaged by the heat.
But the Spore Lord still stood.
Burned. Blackened. Furious.
Half its cap had been seared away, exposing pale flesh beneath. One arm hung limp and smoking. Its throne had partially collapsed, forcing it to support itself on trembling root-legs.
"You... you burned my children..."
"Yeah." Six cracked her neck, exhaustion pulling at her limbs. "And I'm about to burn you too."
She reached for Inky—
The Spore Lord moved.
Faster than something that size should be able to move, it lunged forward, one massive arm sweeping toward Six. She tried to dodge, tried to activate Veil Step—
Too slow.
The arm caught her across the midsection and sent her flying.
Six hit the chamber wall with a sickening crack and crumpled to the ground, pain exploding through her ribs, her vision swimming.
"LITTLE THING." The Spore Lord loomed over her, its remaining eye blazing with hatred. "I WILL GROW NEW CHILDREN FROM YOUR CORPSE."
It raised its arm for the killing blow—
"QUEEN!"
Gorm slammed into the Spore Lord from the side, all twelve feet of ogre muscle driving into the creature's damaged stalk. The Spore Lord staggered, off-balance, its blow going wide.
Six gasped for air, clutching her ribs.
"Get up. Get UP! Fight through the pain!"
She forced herself to her feet, one hand braced against the wall. The pain was immense—something was definitely cracked, maybe broken—but she'd fought through worse.
"Siphon. I need to siphon."
Gorm was grappling with the Spore Lord now, his massive arms wrapped around its stalk, trying to uproot it. The creature thrashed, spores puffing from every surface, fungal fists pounding against the ogre's back.
Six raised a trembling hand toward the struggle.
"Siphon!"
The blood-red Mosquito Queen manifested above the Spore Lord—beautiful and terrible, proboscis descending with surgical precision. It plunged into the creature's aura, into its vital essence, and began to drink.
The Spore Lord screamed.
A massive sphere of crimson energy gathered at the Mosquito Queen's proboscis—more than Six had ever siphoned before, a tidal wave of stolen life force that flowed upward and then down into her broken body.
Six gasped as the warmth flooded through her.
Her ribs shifted—not healed, but stabilized. The pain receded to something manageable. Strength returned to her limbs.
The Spore Lord sagged, its movements growing sluggish.
"What... what are you..."
"I told you." Six straightened, Inky uncoiling in her grip. "I'm the witch who's going to stop you."
She strode forward.
CRACK!
Inky wrapped around the Spore Lord's throat—if it could be called a throat. The constrict effect triggered, tentacles materializing and squeezing.
"Gorm! Finish it!"
The ogre released his grip on the stalk and grabbed his club.
"For wife," he growled.
He swung.
The blow caught the Spore Lord square in its horrible face—those puffball teeth, that lipless mouth, those glowing eyes. Fungal flesh exploded outward in a spray of phosphorescent gore.
The creature swayed.
Gorm swung again.
CRUNCH!
The Spore Lord's head caved in.
Again.
CRUNCH!
The stalk began to splinter.
Again.
CRUNCH!
And again.
CRUNCH!
And again.
CRUNCH! CRUNCH! CRUNCH!
Gorm didn't stop until the Spore Lord was nothing but a pile of pulped fungal matter, twitching weakly in a pool of phosphorescent ichor.
Then he stood over the ruin, chest heaving, club dripping.
"That," he panted, "was for wife."
Silence fell over the chamber.
Six limped forward, clutching her still-aching ribs, and stared down at what remained of the Spore Lord.
The corpse began to shimmer.
DROP ACQUIRED.
Six gave a pained laugh as a triumphant sound rang out.
"Now that's what I'm talking about."