[VotA] Chapter 10 - Ashen Fang Lizard (Patreon)

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Something inside him raged at the sight of the lizard. It wasn’t just that it had survived. It wasn’t just that it was dangerous.

It was that it had no right to be this strong.

Stronger than Mark.

I’ll kill this lowly spawn.

The thought repeated itself.

At the same time, the Ashen Fang Lizard didn’t hesitate. Its massive head turned toward him, maw stretching wide.

Time seemed to slow down for Mark.

He didn’t think, his body reacting before his mind could catch up. He dove, rolling through the mud, just as a deafening crack echoed behind him.

A tree groaned, its colossal trunk shaking violently. Running to the side, he risked a glance back.

One of the towering withered trees had a gaping hole in its center, smoke curling from the wound. Its bark, already blackened with decay, now festered with a thick, gray substance, dripping down onto the mud and sinking into the earth like poison.

Mark’s eyes flickered with understanding.

His gaze snapped back to the lizard.

That energy flowing through that disgusting bastard is mana.

Even through his Demonic Night Gaze, the details were clearer than ever. He could see the swirling, almost imperceptible mana flow around the lizard's body, converging toward its throat.

His vision, along with his previous understanding of mana, gave his instincts a split-second warning.

That’s why I dodged.

His instincts had caught onto something his mind hadn’t yet fully processed. And the proof of it came a moment later, when another surge of mana built up in the lizard’s gullet.

Move.

He rolled again, feeling the weight of the mud clinging to his body as another gray sphere shot past him. It slammed into the earth behind him, sizzling, the air around it warping from the sheer acidity.

If it were a bit faster, I’d be hit.

By now, he should have been reassessing the situation. He should have been thinking about retreating, about formulating a better plan, about completing another one of the End Quests, now that he knew they were a thing.

But that wasn’t an option anymore.

This lowly creature will die today.

His chest burned, his pulse pounded. That unfamiliar pride roared inside him, surging hotter than any pain he had ever felt.

Mark gripped his daggers and charged.

The lizard didn’t stop spitting. It kept its mouth open, relentless in its barrage.

Mark weaved through the deadly projectiles, each impact sending tremors through the earth, but he paid them no mind. Instead, he focused on something else.

This bastard doesn’t want me getting close.

A sneer curled his lips.

And it can’t move.

The Ashen Fang Lizard’s legs were barely visible, half-submerged in the mud. But as Mark closed the distance, his sharpened gaze caught what had been hidden before.

Its limbs trembled, a thick, viscous black and red liquid pooling around them.

It’s still regenerating its legs.

His soul hummed in satisfaction as he sprinted to the lizard’s side.

Mark’s feet skidded in the mud, struggling for traction, but he pushed through, finding stable ground. 

He raised his dagger, ready to strike, when the lizard’s head snapped toward him.

Its movements were faster than he anticipated, its neck elongating unnaturally. 

A blur of gleaming fangs filled his vision.

Mark’s expression remained cold as he thrust his right arm forward, the System-gifted dagger aimed for the creature’s tongue, still in reverse grip.

The lizard’s jaws clamped shut.

Mark felt the dagger slash through the lizard's thin tongue and thrust it downward.

But then, fire ripped through his shoulder. His arm was yanked, his muscles tearing apart as his entire limb was wrenched from his body.

He grunted, holding his scream, as his mind barely registered the pain before golden text flickered in his vision.

[Hit Points: 151/260 → 51/260] 

His body staggered, blood spraying into the air. 

Still, he didn’t scream. He refused to scream in pain in front of the lizard.

Years of suffering, of torment, of torture far worse than this had honed his will. He clenched his teeth, his vision sharpening instead of fading.

The lizard trashed its head, trying to gulp down Mark’s severed arm.

But the dagger he’d lodged into its throat remained stuck, still gripped tightly by his now missing hand.

The creature gagged.

It writhed, struggling to either spit or swallow.

Instinctively, its body moved. It coiled, shifting its weight to sweep Mark aside with its tail.

Only it had no tail anymore.

The bastard’s instincts are betraying it.

Bite.

Tear apart the prey.

Strike with the tail.

Spit acid.

Its patterns were natural, coming from birth. But now, its tail was gone, the creature not noticing it should try another move.

It would take a moment for the lizard to understand its situation.

That moment was all Mark needed.

With his left hand, he plunged his remaining dagger into the lizard’s throat.

A sharp crack.

The blade snapped in half, the jagged edge slicing into his palm.

[Hit Points: 51/260 →45/260] 

He barely acknowledged the loss of health. 

Now, he understood.

This is why it survived.

Its scales.

This bastard’s defense is too high. That’s why it survived the explosion.

But that wasn’t all. Mark could see the faint shimmer across the lizard’s body, the mana pulsing through its flesh, reinforcing it..

Somewhere, deep within, a skill fueled its defense, just like his Demonic Night Gaze enhanced his vision.

Ridiculous defense, and ridiculous regeneration.

Mark abandoned the broken dagger.

The lizard's throat bulged as it finally swallowed something, its half-regenerated tail twitching, still trying to attack. It heaved, mouth parting slightly, mana shifting inside its body.

It’s preparing another shot.

Mark was weaponless, and he knew this was his only opening.

Another bite, and I’m dead.

His gaze locked onto the lizard’s glowing yellow eyes, the only other color piercing through the dark purple hue of his vision.

Then, he lunged.

Mark leaped onto the lizard’s back, locking his legs around its thick neck. As it thrashed, he moved fast, faster than he thought possible, jamming his fingers into its left eye.

His fingertips pressed against a slimy membrane like a spear, meeting brief resistance before something gave way with a sickening squelch.

The lizard screeched as its eye burst, warm liquid spilling down Mark’s arm.

But his attack met something unexpected, as beneath the first layer, his fingers hit a harder material. Maybe bone, maybe an inner defensive leather skin.

Golden text flickered at the edge of his vision.

[Hit Points: 45/260 →41/260] 

Then came the pressure.

The lizard’s eye socket clamped down around his hand.

It wasn’t strong enough to crush his wrist, and he could probably rip his arm free, but the chance for another attack was gone.

There’s no way I can break through its defenses.

His mind raced. The lizard’s high-pitched wail echoed through the forest, but something about it felt… off.

There was no time to think about that now.

He needed to kill it.

Mark’s eyes darted across the lizard’s body, taking in every detail. The burnt, cracked scales. The fading wounds. The pitifully small, half-regenerated legs, twitching in the mud.

Then, he noticed it.

The pool of blood beneath the creature.

Too much blood for just a lost tail and legs.

The explosion, the roots! It had detonated from below, not just the sides!

Its scales had protected it, but even then, the Ashen Fang Lizard had lost its limbs.

That means not all of its body is covered in those ridiculously tough scales.

His eyes gleamed with realization, and he yanked his hand free from the crushed eye socket.

Meanwhile, blood dripped down his right shoulder.

[Hit Points: 41/260 → 37/260] 

Without hesitation, he jumped to the lizard’s left side, avoiding its thrashing maw.

The monster had been in the same spot for this entire fight, moving only its neck.

Maybe it hadn’t moved since the explosion.

He took a step back, dug his foot into the mud, and launched himself forward.

Mark’s left shoulder slammed into the lizard’s massive body, pushing against it with everything he had as he kept his body small, almost crouched, to avoid being bitten.

His muscles strained, his skin flushed red, and his feet skidded, barely finding traction on the soaked ground.

The lizard let out a piercing screech, its head twisting toward him, blood spilling from its mouth.

Mark saw the mana shifting inside its body, flowing toward its throat.

It’s trying to fire another gray ball of acid.

But he didn’t stop.

The lizard may have been the size of a small car, but it didn’t have the same weight.

And Mark wasn’t trying to lift it.

He was trying to flip it.

The creature resisted at first, its body unmoving.

Then, inch by inch, it tilted.

As its center of gravity shifted, the monster’s thrashing helped Mark.

He pulled.

And again.

Finally, with a final, desperate heave, the lizard’s body rolled onto its side, exposing its belly.

Mark’s glowing eyes locked onto the wound on it. A squirming, unhealed hole in its soft flesh, where the regeneration was slow, which pieces of root still stuck inside, preventing it from closing fully.

That’s it.

A gray sphere of acid shot from the lizard’s mouth.

The burning heat seared across his side, grazing the bloody wound where his right arm had been severed.

Pain tore through his torso.

[Hit Points: 37/260 → 17/260]

He gritted his teeth, the pain numbed by the rush of battle and his high tolerance.

One more hit like that, and I’ll be done, right?

Then, he noticed something.

The dagger inside the lizard’s mouth was gone.

Its blade had melted, streaks of green and white liquid dripping from the lizard’s jaws along with thick, bubbling blood.

That last shot had been weaker because the dagger had absorbed part of the impact.

But now, there was nothing left.

Mana surged to the lizard’s throat again.

Mark’s glowing eyes locked onto the wound.

There is only one path left.

Mark crouched low, tensing every muscle in his body.

And a moment before the beast fired the final shot, he pushed his body against the open wound.

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