Chapter 12 - 12: Greasy Triumph and Tavern Tales

Killyaen crouched in the Zenoite mine's narrow tunnel, torch snuffed, the air thick with the stench of Rotting Blind Mice and a far fouler beast. The Zenoite Krovar loomed outside, its six legs clawing sparks from stone, its maw dripping sizzling ichor. Its Zenoite-crusted hide glinted like a shattered mirror, four gem-like eyes burning with Level 3 Peak ferocity. Its roar shook the mine, dwarfing Killyaen's unawakened strength and curse-laden frame. His twin swords—Marko's feather-light blades—were nicked, his shoulder bled from a tail graze, and his tunic hung in tatters. Sweat plastered his gold-tipped braid, but his grin was pure defiance."Alright, sparkles," Killyaen panted, eyeing a loose Zenoite boulder above the tunnel's mouth, "you're tougher than Janko's Plumed Cat pride, but I'm the Supreme Elf. Let's get weird."The Krovar lunged, claws scraping the crevice, forcing Killyaen deeper, the curse's thirty kilograms grinding his knees. Straight-up fighting was suicide—his Wind's Rebuke and Thunder's Edge barely chipped the beast's scales. He needed a plan as wild as painting "SUPREME ELF RULES" on a Zeltar's spark-horned hide, those silver-blue chamois with crackling horns roaming Opeka's cliffs. The floor was slick with mouse guts and ichor, and Killyaen spotted a pile of Gromble oil jars, their rancid stench worse than a Gromble's iron-quilled, six-eyed bulk rooting in Opeka's fields. Miners used the oil, harvested from local Grombles, to grease cart axles and repel Rotting Blind Mice, explaining the jars' presence. Nearby, glowing Zenoite shards hummed faintly, like a Flaevyn's disorienting crow, those crystal-flecked birds in village coops."By Azuré's waves," Killyaen muttered, his amulet pulsing faintly as a claw swipe cracked the wall. He sheathed one sword, grabbed a rock, and hurled it at the Krovar's eyes. It bounced off, but the beast snarled, giving Killyaen time to slide out on mouse slime, nimble as a Zeltar in a festival race. He snatched a Gromble oil jar and lobbed it at the Krovar's maw. It shattered, oil splattering its teeth and eyes. The Krovar roared, shaking its head, blinded briefly, and charged, a shockwave stinging Killyaen's skin.He dove, the blast singeing his braid, a burn searing his ribs. The curse's healing stitched the wound slowly, blood soaking his side. "Nice try, sparkles!" Killyaen taunted, grabbing another jar. He sprinted, the curse dragging his steps, and hurled more oil, coating the Krovar's legs and the floor. The beast skidded, claws scrabbling, slipping like a Gromble on ice.Killyaen laughed, wild and breathless, ignoring the throbbing shoulder and a fresh thigh gash from a near-miss claw. "What's wrong, big guy? Too greasy for a sparkly lizard?" The Krovar lunged, and Killyaen rolled, dodging a bite that crushed a stalagmite. He eyed a cracked Zenoite vein above the Krovar, pulsing faintly, and the glowing shards nearby. His grin widened, mad as a Flaevyn feather in a storm."Time for the Supreme Elf's grand finale!" Killyaen grabbed a Zenoite shard, its hum tingling his hand, and chucked it at the vein. Nothing. The Krovar charged, its tail whipping. Killyaen dodged, the spike grazing his arm, blood spraying. "Come on, shiny rocks!" he yelled, hurling another shard. It struck true, sparking a tremor that wobbled the boulder. The Krovar's maw gaped, and Killyaen slid under it, oil-slicked, slashing Thunder's Edge at its underbelly, cracking a scale.The beast howled, and Killyaen scrambled to the tunnel, dumping a third Gromble oil jar over himself. "If I'm going down, I'm going greasy!" he cackled, sliding to the boulder's base. The Krovar chased, slipping on the oiled floor, its eyes blazing. Killyaen climbed, the curse making each step agony, and wedged his sword into the cracked vein, twisting with curse-fueled strength. The boulder crashed, pinning the Krovar's rear legs, its shrieks echoing. Killyaen leapt onto its back, oil-slicked and screaming, "Ride the Plumed Cat's cousin, sparkles!"He slipped off, landing in a heap of oil, blood, and sweat. The Krovar thrashed, but the boulder held, Rotting Blind Mice swarming its ichor. Killyaen, bruised and reeking like a Gromble slaughterhouse, crawled away, grabbing his dropped sword. He stood, swaying, and raised both blades. "Supreme Elf, one! Sparkly lizard, zero!" he croaked, collapsing against the wall, laughing through the pain.The Krovar's struggles slowed, its eyes dimming under the boulder and mice bites. Killyaen's gashes—thigh, arm, ribs—throbbed, but the curse's healing worked steadily. Before leaving, he scoured the mine's glow. A cracked wall bore Azuré's wave carvings, his amulet pulsing stronger. A fist-sized Zenoite shard glowed blue, humming faintly. "Worth a fortune," Killyaen grinned, pocketing it. In Moonshadow fungi, a Moonflower crystal, teal and fossilized, gleamed like a star. "Alchemists' gold," he whispered, prying it free. Near the Krovar, a Zenoite-crusted scale lay, heavy but perfect for armor. "Marko'll owe me a feast," he chuckled, stuffing his satchel, the curse straining under the load.Sunlight stung his eyes at the mine's exit. Elder Mara stood with villagers, her earth charms rippling the soil. "You killed the beast, Killyaen, but your punishment stands," she said, voice stern. "Get back in there and clear every last Rotting Blind Mouse, or I'll have Goran tan your hide."Killyaen groaned, meowing like a sulky Flaevyn. "Mara, I'm a hero! Mice? Meow, that's cruel!" he whined, but her glare silenced him. Grumbling, he re-entered the mine, swords flashing as he slashed lingering mice, their squeals drowned by his mock yowls. "Meow, take that, you stinky pests! Meow, the Supreme Elf suffers!" By dusk, the tunnels were clear, Killyaen reeking worse than ever but his punishment served.He staggered to the Black Stone Tavern, Opeka's square aglow with lanterns, villagers chanting "Supreme Elf! Plumed Cat!" Bera leaned against the door, wooden spoon twirling, smirking. "You smell like a Gromble's armpit, hero," she teased, tossing him a rag. "No kiss for that stench."Killyaen caught the rag, winking through the oil. "Scrub me clean, Bera, and I'll make it worth your while," he purred, dodging her swat. "Got loot to rival a Flaevyn's glitter!" He plopped at a table, Goran and Marko joining, villagers crowding for his tale."Listen up, Opeka!" Killyaen boomed, ale mug raised. "The Supreme Elf faced a Zenoite Krovar, big as a barn, claws like Zeltar horns! I slid on Gromble oil—miners' grease for carts, stinks like Janko's pride—and dropped a boulder on that beast!" He exaggerated, claiming he wrestled the Krovar bare-handed and danced with its tail. "And deep in the mine," he grinned, eyeing Janko skulking by the bar, "I saw an enormous glowing cat, whiskers black and beautiful like Janko's! Must've been his sister—or his ma!"The tavern roared, villagers slapping tables, chanting "Plumed Cat!" Janko's face purpled, fists clenched. "You lying elf! I'll shave that braid!" he snarled, storming out, plotting revenge. Killyaen laughed, toasting Bera, who rolled her eyes but smirked.Goran grunted, inspecting Killyaen's wounds. "Fool's luck," he muttered, nodding at the satchel. "Show Marko that loot before you lose it to ale." Marko whistled at the Zenoite shard, Moonflower crystal, and Krovar scale. "These'd fetch a fortune, even in Solspire," he said. "Keep that crystal—alchemists'd kill for it."Killyaen leaned back, amulet pulsing faintly, thoughts on Vuk's tale. "Ancient ruins near Solspire, here I come," he mused, the mine's Azuré carvings and his loot hinting at a destiny beyond Opeka. A luminescent fox darted past the tavern window, its teal fur flashing, as Flaevyn feathers glinted in the festival's glow.