Natasha the Halve

Yolin Makav watched.

Inside the recently found dungeon, a place nobody had set foot into, carnage was taking place.

Brightly lit by a thick braid of golden hair and a type of phenomena only found in highly-specialized research books, the first dungeon floor was slowly and methodically cleared of monsters.

The Oni's eyes had a glint of barely contained excitement... and the smallest amount of concern that translated to urgency.

In all the capabilities displayed by the group of people present, even considering the paragon of strength among them, they were still weak.

Danuva and Shorvanna had confided in the Oni a way to reach a power never seen on Galeia. A way to stand next to a Halve in terms of resilience and toughness.

In her two hundred years of life, Yolin was, for the first time, seeing someone shrug off creatures largely considered one of the most dangerous monsters that exist like they were slightly annoying toddlers in a family reunion, solidifying the truth she had received from the Gods.

Ready to move and place herself as a shield for the party, her eyes moved in all directions in search of any monster that sneaked past Natasha, yet her mind found no true calm. Only anxious excitement.

The goal to reach the mortal limit of growth was beset with challenges that required defying common sense, her survival instincts, and the primal fear of oblivion.

Her face tensed when Natasha grabbed a Mind Flayer that had gotten too close, whispered something she couldn't hear thanks to the loud explosions, and squashed it like a bar of soap. Even though a good distanced separated them, watching the Halve's lips move made her spine go cold with a fear she had never experienced before. It went beyond the biological mortal fear of death. The monster quivered in what could be interpreted as terror.

A monster that erased memories and Classes shivered at the words that came out of the golden woman's mouth.

Cold sweat ran down Yolin's back despite her not feeling natural cold for the last fifty years.

To reach a height such as what you mention, young Oni, you must shatter the binds of flesh and mind, the tank recalled the words uttered by the Goddess of the path of the Warrior. Collect the remains and forge yourself anew, rising from the mud stronger and better.

Lapia aimed further into the dungeon with her staff, sending the amalgamation of spells forward, sucking monsters and frying them.

The intrusive thought of jumping into the vortex to at least have some fun enter Yolin's mind, but she shrugged it off with a shake of her head. She could survive without a scratch, but the Mind Flayers caught in the spinning space were too dangerous to go through with senseless entertainment.

Moving forward, the party advanced through the dungeon.

Yolin bit her lower lip, running her tongue over her left tusk in anxiety.

Even with such displays, the party was weak. A single touch of a Mind Flayer was rumored to erase an individual's last twenty four hours of memories. Every research on those monsters ended with insane people who lost their Classes.

The effort of a lifetime gone without the ability to struggle against it.

The Oni's mouth turned into a slight scowl. To be born a mortal is to be born weak, unfortunately.

“How unfair,” Thelea complained, standing next to Yolin and talking loud enough to be heard over Lapia's spells. “She's grabbing them like they're candy,” she added, gesturing at the Halve.

The Oni nodded and chuckled, “The gap grows wider every time we see her fight.”

“At what level do you reckon we'll achieve that?” The Goliath wondered, resting her shield on the floor and supporting herself on it.

“Allegedly level two thousand,” Yolin replied, recalling the research she read on Mind Flayers. “Or eight thousand base Constitution, depending on stat growth.”

The two observed the golden woman stab, slash, and squeeze the monsters.

“Must be fun, though,” the Warrior tank pointed out. “She's laughing like it's the funniest joke of the century.”

“Maybe they tickle Halves,” Yolin cheekily suggested with a smile, relaxing with the conversation. “Like a Turelin or something like that.”

“Would a Turelin make her laugh, though?” Thelea mused, eyes locked on the Halve. “Her nerves must be stronger than the armor she wears.”

The Oni imagined the situation. If Natasha ever met the fuzzy and slippery insects, maybe she'd be too grossed out to touch them in the first place. “Natasha's not ticklish, though...” she revealed, giving the Goliath a winning smirk.

The Warrior's eyebrows went up in surprise. “Really? She looks the type to have a weak spot somewhere.”

“I haven't found it yet,” Yolin admitted. “Would be funny to, though.”

Thelea was silent for a moment, thinking of something. “So 'To tickle a Halve' was mistaken?”

“Yep,” replied the Oni, shrugging exaggeratedly. “I wouldn't take that kind of literature that serious, you know? Permala was obsessed with Halves in an inappropriate way.”

The two women shared a look.

“You tried, didn't you?” Thelea asked with a saucy smile.

Yolin smiled back and nodded. “Of course I did. How else would I know it was nothing more than fiction.”

They let out raunchy laughs, probably recalling the contents of the highly controversial fan-fiction about a young Changeling who had a harem of Halves.

“You naughty woman,” Thelea laughed, lightly pushing Yolin.

The Oni laughed louder, accepting the charges. She once again focused on Natasha and her laughter quieted down, recalling Danuva's words.

If Yolin wanted to transcend the mortal mind and gain a higher endurance to beings such as the Mind Flayers, she'd have to be exposed to Abyssal.

A terrifying notion to her after witnessing Elena's abrupt changes in behavior.

Then again, nothing could go horrifyingly wrong in a controlled environment, especially with Danuva present.

Yolin really wanted to achieve the peak of power for mortals, and being told the price gave her a semblance of direction.