Upon reaching the platform, Gauss actually calmed down fast.
He shot a wary glance at the green acid pools beside his boots, bubbling and steaming white. The stinging reek and the sight alone made one queasy.
He and Alia advanced cautiously toward the center of the platform, testing the ground at every step for pressure triggers.
Aside from a few loose, sinking tiles, nothing seemed off.
The sour, corrosive smell in the air, however, grew stronger.
“Cough, cough.” Alia cleared her throat.
At last they came within range of Mage Hand. Gauss willed it forth.
A spectral hand condensed quickly in front of him.
Unfortunately, Identify had to be delivered by touch and couldn’t be cast at range. Otherwise he could have identified the object safely first.
The Mage Hand drifted toward the chest—
—and only then did Gauss notice several strange plants above it, shedding a soft white glow. They were the “spotlights” that made the chest so eye-catching from afar.
The hand reached the chest.
It wasn’t locked; it looked like it could be opened at any time. Dıscover more novels at novel-fire.ɴet
Gauss tried to push the hand through the chest to feel inside.
An invisible, resilient resistance held the spectral palm firmly outside.
Wariness pricked at him.
Then he drew the bone staff from his pouch.
He hadn’t planned to probe with an attack spell—who knew what fragile things might be inside? A rash blast could break the loot.
But safety came first.
A cerulean Magic Missile gathered before him.
The missile tore through the air.
In a blink it reached the chest—
—and then, change! The chest shifted slightly; the missile struck, skittered off the surface with a strange rebound, and ricocheted away.
That tiny movement gave the disguise away.
The inlaid “gems” became crimson eyes.
The lid sprang up into a gaping maw studded with massive ocher fangs.
A shockingly thick green tongue, slick with corrosive slime, lashed out.
Gauss had been ready for it. Chest or trap—there were only two options.
Mimics are Level 2-and-up monsters. Their mimicry is near perfect: not only the chest’s exterior, but even “treasure” inside that looks real. Open one and you may indeed see gold and jewels; reach for them incautiously and the monster’s maw will take your hand.
Though weaker than many monsters of the same tier, a mimic still fights at roughly elite strength. The bottom of the “chest” bristles with countless tiny pseudopods that work together to give it startling leaps and mobility. Its bite is fearsome; the fangs channel a strange power that can crunch not only flesh but steel and stone. It also secretes corrosive slime to snare prey or steal weapons.
“Prepare for battle!”
As the mimic awakened, a dozen green, jellylike acid slimes oozed from the bubbling pools around the platform’s edge, loosely surrounding them.
From the ceiling, hanging green shrubs dropped to the ground—look closely and each bush hid a fist-sized crawler.
Two common monster types: acid slimes and shrub-bugs.
So others had been lurking. Birds of a feather—each good at environmental concealment.
Ulfen howled; Echo beat his wings and lifted off.
Blue energy pooled at Gauss’s staff tip; he picked off an acid slime and a shrub-bug first.
Both popped—entries 22 and 23 unlocked in the common Monster Index. Acid slimes were nastier than normal slimes, exploding on death like mini acid bombs, green fluid hissing and steaming on the stone. Shrub-bugs were weak, crawling with a dark-green bush on their backs—great disguise, few other virtues. Maybe they got a bite only if you walked past barefoot and unwary.
With the adds cleared and the index richer, Gauss focused fully on the mimic.
“I’ll handle it. Watch yourself.”
“Okay, I’ll take the rest.”
Most of her kit was support, but Entangle was plenty to keep the small fry off him.
As usual, Gauss cast Enhanced Leap first to boost mobility, then faced the lunging foe.
Its hard shell was sheathed in a monster’s native mana armor—hence why Mage Hand had felt like it hit a wall.
Now the reeking, slime-dripping tongue cracked toward him like a whip.
Gauss pushed off, retreating fast.
Sszz! A few drops spattered him and smoked at once.
The Omni-Armor held, sparing him harm—but he felt it thinning under the corrosive hit. Now wasn’t the time to face-tank.
Thunk! Another Magic Missile shot out, but the mimic snapped shut; the shell deflected it again.
Strictly speaking, that shell wasn’t its “body” but an ultra-hardened carapace-stomach formed by long-term secretions, far tougher than flesh. Its reactions were quick: every cast, it turtled up—lid shut, hit blocked. It only opened to bite at close range.
Gauss had no interest in fighting a mimic at point-blank: little room to cast, and in melee the tongue kept trying to yank his sword away. It was preternaturally quick and dexterous—blink and your weapon was gone.
As a Level 2 monster it wasn’t truly terrifying—just slippery and vexing.
Dodging while lining up a counter, Gauss’s eyes combed the terrain.
Suddenly, a spark of inspiration flashed.