Monster Hunting 401: A LitRPG Fantasy Adventure by Andrew Karevik (book suggestions .TXT) 📗

Brimley raised an eyebrow at me. “I’d assume it’s where it always is. Unless it moved and you two are lost. In that case…I’d have no clue.”

Trig went to speak. “We’re not—”

“At liberty to talk about the base’s location,” I said, quickly interrupting him. I didn’t trust this man enough to talk about Hunter’s Hope yet. “I just was curious to see what you knew.”

Brimley growled at that. He could clearly sense something was wrong with us but wasn’t sure. He also did not seem interested in playing his hand, and so he merely leaned back. “Last I spoke to one of you slayer types, your base was located far to the northern region, past the Shadewood.”

My heart rose at those words. More Venators? And just past the woods! Trig broke out into a wide grin and slapped me on the back. With news like this, there was no way Hunter’s Hope would dare abandon this world. What if…what if these people were organized already? What if they had a city? Or…

Easy, Josiah’s Storm emoted, interrupting my unbridled hope. Temper yourself.

The bow was right, I couldn’t let my imagination run wild, not when I had a far more important task ahead of us. Recovering the Vessel was still a top priority. “What must we do to earn your assistance in reaching the Shadewood?” I asked. Going around the mountain sounded like an exhausting trip, for the range was huge and we had no way of knowing the length. If this man knew how to make it through the mountain and quickly, we would save a huge chunk of time! The only question was whether we could trust him. But…he didn’t seem to be too shady. Strange, for certain, but fairly friendly.

“Ah, I’m so glad you asked!” he said, pointing to a large circular hatch in the middle of the shop. “Like I said, I just need you two to do what comes naturally. After that, we can talk about getting to the Shadewood. And perhaps even negotiate how much that wonderful trap blueprint costs.”

Chapter 8

“So he’s like what, five foot nine?” Trig asked as we walked through the caverns alone, following the exact instructions the old man had given us. “So maybe to him, a large monster is only like…just a bit bigger, you know?”

“You think a hinge of that size is meant to trap something slightly taller than a short old man?” I asked, pointing to the massive metal hinge sticking out of the ground. Four hinges were lined up on both sides, supporting the enormous trap door mechanism we were standing on. Our weight alone would not trigger the door, but beneath we could hear something rustling and thumping.

“I’m just saying, let’s be hopeful all the way up until reality gives us a sturdy smack,” Trig said, kneeling down and pressing his face against the long seam in the center of the trap door. This device was built for giant beasts, not humans, so Brimley had never bothered to conceal it. After all, monsters simply did not seem to comprehend trap mechanisms. At least, the big ones didn’t.

“See anything?” I asked, stretching, readying for the carnage to begin. My head was a bit in the clouds as I thought of this supposed Venator base. Who were they? Holdouts from the old days, separated from the rest of the world? People like me, who had found instruction and direction, only to rebuild the Lodge from scratch? Or…was Brimley just an old loon, either half-mad or senile in his old age, mixing the past with the present? It was hard to tell. He was savvy enough to stay alive this long, though he seemed completely uninterested in revealing his actual abilities. Traps aside, we had no clue what we were dealing with.

“It’s big alright,” Trig said. “It’s blue! Skin too, no fur. Can’t really make out what it is, I’m just seeing blue skin. He seems stuck.”

That was the exact problem. Whatever had made its way into the “Concave Release System” was simply too big to get out. Too big or too stubborn. Either way, we had to get rid of the thing before something else big came snuffing along, looking for a meal. From the way Brimley explained (and from the constant sound of traps going off), the Shadewood produced a significant number of monsters on a daily basis, many of which wandered into these mountains. If the release system remained clogged, larger beasts would begin tearing through the tunnels and eventually find Mr. Brimley.

“You ready?” I asked, reaching down and grabbing hold of one of the trap doors. They only swung one way—down—which meant we’d have to break it. Fortunately, I was strong enough to do so with ease.

“Pop it open,” Trig said, drawing his twin daggers and dropping down into a combat stance. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

I nodded, took a deep breath and dug my fingers deep in between the large crack. Finding a grip, I pulled with all my might, straining to lift the large, unwieldy trap door. The hinges disagreed with my decision to press up and tried to do their job, but my might was no match for them. With a heave and a grunt, I pulled the entire trap door up, breaking the hinges in one fell swoop.

“Hot damn! I would not want to arm wrestle with you,” Trig said as he glanced down into the pit. Immediately, a long, rubbery blue tentacle came firing upwards, grabbing hold of him and yanking him down into the hole.

“Trig!” I shouted, tossing the door up and diving down into the hole as well, bow instantly appearing in my hands.

Below was a colossal blue crescent-moon-shaped monster, one I had seen before. A L’Gara! It was huge, twice the size of the regular L’Gara I had fought before, though…weren’t these underwater creatures? What in the hell was it doing out here?

This particular creature seemed to struggle to move, for