Chrysalis Chapter 1780 - Doomed

The underlying concept is quite simple, isn't it? It's exceptionally challenging to inflict damage upon me that is dealt over time. Amassing incremental strikes, a splash of acid here, a dose of poison there, simply doesn't achieve the objective. Not with the Regeneration Network and the Pure Core diligently working to restore my flawless carapace and purge any lingering contamination.

So, what's the solution? While it might appear to be a daunting task, the answer is remarkably straightforward: deliver a decisive blow with sufficient force to end it all at once.

It seems the slugs are intent on employing this very strategy, right here and now. I'm not pleased about it.

The threat becomes immediate, almost instantaneously upon my recognition of it. Eager to deny me any respite, the slugs spring their ambush, launching their orb of perpetual filth directly towards my face.

Although it lacks the ear-splitting howl of a truly apocalyptic Doom Sphere, the sheer intensity of such an incredibly dense mass of mana hurtling towards me is undeniably daunting. Should this projectile strike true, I might very well be finished.

That simply won't do!

Executing a swift turn, I expel energy from the Altar to amplify the Skill. My legs throb with agony as I dematerialize from my current position, hurtling through the tunnel at breakneck speeds for hundreds of meters.

It takes every ounce of my effort to halt my momentum, a maneuver that places immense strain on my already damaged joints and ligaments. These will require some restorative attention before they can function at their peak capacity. At least I've hopefully evaded the—

Perhaps the Krath possess poor aim, or maybe they're cunning strategists who deliberately overshot, anticipating my escape route. Alternatively, this spell might be so devastating that they simply unleashed it in my general vicinity.

Regardless of the reason, I haven't yet cleared the impact radius!

It looms above me, the most colossal and perilous nasal obstruction ever conceived. A sphere of hyper-concentrated corrupted mana, it emanates an eerie green and yellow glow, akin to nuclear effluvium, with fragments of the unnameable swirling within as it draws nearer.

Man, I truly detest resorting to this.

I have no alternative but to commit. Lowering my stance, I brace my legs and activate the ability once more. Once again, the Altar's energy reserves deplete as I draw upon them to empower the Skill. Unsurprisingly, following such a rapid succession of power surges, my legs are utterly incapable of supporting me. Viscera and blood erupt from the sides of my carapace as my legs, beyond saving, are violently detached. With no means of support, I plummet to the ground, skidding on my underbelly. The myriad parasites of the fifth realm swarm, attempting to breach my exoskeleton.

Rudimentary legs sprout from my form, rapidly developing as they flex and strengthen. It will take some time before they can adequately bear my weight, and even longer before they reach their full size and power. Utilizing these burgeoning nubs, I painstakingly claw at the yielding tunnel floor, managing to turn slightly to ascertain the situation unfolding behind me.

Oh, blast it all!

I did indeed manage to extricate myself from the zone of destruction, which is fortunate. The orb of putrescence has impacted hundreds of meters behind me. Less fortunate is the manner in which it has, much like an infected boil, erupted into a tidal wave of unspeakable putridity that is rapidly, well, rapidly for mucus, surging towards me.

Darn it!

My newly formed legs are nowhere near robust enough to sustain me, yet I frantically scrape and claw, each limb barely long enough to make contact with the ground. Compelled to action, I raise my apparatus and unleash four rapid streams of my potent acid. It hisses through the air, already expanding and multiplying as it streaks towards the approaching deluge.

The slugs must have invested considerable time in perfecting this spell. I don't recall witnessing them cast anything of such immense power and density. The sphere itself might have spanned only thirty to forty meters, but the volume of sludge expelled from within would encompass a space a hundredfold, perhaps even a thousandfold, that size, and it continues to expand.

To my senses, this is arguably the closest approximation to Theorazzn's mana I've encountered within the fifth realm, aside from the murky pool in which I was submerged prior to my transformation. Though it remains a faint echo of the genuine article, it's sufficient to cause my carapace to writhe as it sizzles and hisses in my direction. Had I been caught in that torrent, I would have dissolved into nothingness in mere seconds.

My acid, however, will not suffice to halt its advance, though I hold out hope it will at least engage in mutual destruction for a brief period, granting me precious moments.

Moments I shall utilize to commence the formation of a gravity bomb. Is it prudent to deploy one of these when my mobility is severely impaired and the target is perilously close? Likely not! Do I possess any other recourse? Hardly!

Pesky slugs. I'll make them pay for this!