Monster Breeder
157. Return Under the Mountain, Part 1 (Suka)

“I found an entrance!”

Before me, underneath an outcropping high up the mountain, sits a gap in the rocks sealed shut with cobwebs. Not like that’s about to stop me! The flames that dance eternally on my forearms leap for the hole with a flick of my will and consume the webbing like hungry caterpillars devouring a leaf.

“Screee!!!”

Somebody isn’t happy to see me. A few jets of fire from my palms clear the way for me to crouch down and peer through the opening. Looking inside the hole is a bit like peeking into hell. A jumble of legs and endless silken threads cover the inner walls of a large cavern with no discernible bottom.

“This is going to suck,” Megan states as she zips from boulder to boulder on her ascent to join me on my perch.

“Waaahhh! Ooof!” Cottontail shrieks as her grip slips on the bouquet of red balloons she used to ascend this high and she falls into my open arms like a princess. She sure pulls some weird things from that hat! “Thanks for catching me, Miss Suka.”

I cop a feel of her delightfully plush rump through the fishnet pantyhose covering her supple legs and derriere. Megan gives me a hard glare, though Cottontail only blushes prettily as she dismounts from my grip.

“Awe we weally going in thewe?” Sue frowns at the dark hole as she lands beside us from frog-leaping off a ledge dozens of feet below.

A small flock of Harpy boys drop our largest companion nearby to complete our assembly before politely fucking off back home. “Dura ready smash! Need bigg’r hole.”

“That’s what she said,” I say, giving Dura a high five, though the Ogress seems confused.

“Who she? Me she?”

“Hate to be a killjoy, but please don’t joke about that around us smallfolk,” Megan says, “We may be stretchy down there, but there are plenty of cocks in this world that can literally split us in half.”

My cheeks burn. “Sorry, Megs, still getting used to this.” It wasn’t long ago that her kind were just sex toys and/or food to me. Actually talking to smallfolk like they're real people with their own hops and dreams has completely changed my outlook. I haven't regretting going 'vegan' since, but I still occasionally catch myself backsliding to old ways of speaking and acting. “I’ll do better. Believe me, by now I’m committed to Alex’s cause heart and soul.”

Cottontail stares out at Fuzzy Field, taking in the view while avoiding the awkward topic.

Megan frowns at my latest nickname attempt and stares me down as we lock gazes. She eventually relents with a huff, “I saw how you look at that Dust Bunny. It’s not just about the sex; you really care for her.”

Thinking of Moka and how close my group came to indulging our base hungers yesterday sours my mood, but I’m not one to wallow in what-ifs. I made the right call and everything worked out. The same thing will happen today! “Don’t sell yourself short, Zippy. Come on, we’ve got a job to do.”

“Hey!”

Fire shoots from my paws, propelling me as I dive through the narrow gap and emerge into a cave crawling with Servitors, an abyss of endless darkness beneath me defying my burning light. Eight-legged half-spider-half-crab critters leap for me from all sides, their legs like skewers intent on penetrating my vulnerable flesh, but I’m ready.

“Flaming Tornado Kick!” I do the splits and spread my arms, my limbs blazing with jets of inferno that send me spinning at rapidly accelerating speeds. Flame-claw constructs form an extra protective/offensive barrier around my extremities as I bash and batter the Servitors with a whirlwind of burning punches and fiery-greaved kicks. I feel dozens of impacts on my limbs before the influx of stupid bugs throwing themselves to their death slows. Pushing through a bout of dizziness to keep balance while stopping and hovering in place, I watch my allies follow.

Megan shoots through the hole after me to land in a crouch on the far, vertical wall. Inertia holds her there for a breath in spite of gravity while she takes in her surroundings before sprinting horizontally along the circumference of the deep shaft. Arcs of lightning limn her limbs as she runs faster and faster, using her speed to prevent falling. Any Servitors that get in her way are bashed aside with punches or shoulder-checked down the hole.

Sue and Cottontail come next, both using Water Magic to hose down any approaching Servitors. Cottontail wears her sparkly magic glasses with pride, having pulled her wand from her black teddy’s cleavage to re-summon the squirting flower from her hat. Meanwhile, despite not having much destructive power, Sue’s Froglin magic can still blast away first-tier Servitors with ease.

My favorite Ogress muscles her way into the cavern in a shower of debris as she breaks the entrance wider to accommodate her large frame. Then Dura reaches out to pluck a Servitor from the wall and bites into it like an apple, juices spraying from the creature’s corpse to drip down her chin. More Servitors crawl all over her as she stands there idly chewing at the rim of the pit, but they can’t damage the Ogre Tough woman. “Needs butt’r.”

The five of us make quick work of the creepy crawlies and clear away the cobwebs. They don’t stand a chance with the huge gap in tiers between us no matter how many of them cover the walls and ceiling. Their only shot of landing a blow against us is a surprise attack, which we thwart by watching each other’s backs. Cottontail blasts away a Servitor trying to get the Drop on Sue, and Megan delivers a jump-kick to the bug leaping for my blind spot. Then we’re alone in the dim.

“We don’?” Dura asks after looking around and shrugging. “Lunch time? Then nap and fuck?”

“Nice try,” I reply, rolling my eyes. “Alex wants us to beat them back as far as we can without sustaining any injuries.” Since we don’t know how the other teams are doing, we’ve been instructed to head back after receiving our first significant battle wound. Everyone needs to be in tip-top shape for tomorrow and our uses of healing magic are limited. “We’ve got a long way to go.”

This upper chamber of the vertical shaft has no more enemies, but the darkness below seethes with a cacophony of chittering.

Cottontail shivers with disgust. “Let me try to clear them out so we can descend in peace.” The Showbunny Stage Magician brandishes her hat, waves her wand over the top, and reaches in to pull forth a single normal-sized match, a rubber chicken, and finally, the same giant cigar she used to blow up the Elder Tree. But, first, she frowns at the chicken, “How does this keep happening?”

“At least you’we getting fastewr.”

“It’s quite impressive you’re able to reproduce elemental magic with any reliability,” Megan praises her beloved sister. “I’m basing that entirely on Gabby’s having to pick her jaw up off the floor after your demonstration, but that seems like a good standard of comparison.”

“Agreed,” I say. I don’t have any reference point for how amazed I should be either. In my opinion, results should speak for themselves, and she did blow off the Elder Tree’s face.

Dura huffs amicably.

The Showbunny shakes her doubts, discards the rubber chicken, and strikes the match against a nearby rock with extreme caution. It’s just a totally normal, run-of-the-mill match that happens to be several sizes too small to light the enormous cigar. She flicks it down the hole to watch the candle’s worth of illumination reveal several hundred feet of Servitors waiting in ambush on craggy shelves.

What a nightmare! It’ll take us all day to steadily work our way through scores of encounters. Maybe this place is better defended than I thought?

“I think you’re supposed to cut this end,” Cottontail says while hefting the kayak-sized cylinder of dried and rolled leaves toward me. I oblige, conjuring a pair of flame shears big enough to decapitate an Orc, and apply them to the end nearest the wrapper bearing the silhouette of a bunny girl reclining with one leg kicked out provocatively.

My control is improving by the minute with Fast Learner equipped! Not to mention that boost to Focus from Alex. With concentration, I can achieve the necessary shape cohesion to actually cut the cap instead of simply burning the cigar’s tip away. That wouldn’t have been possible for me yesterday.

*Snip!*

Cottontail blows on the shaved end to cool it while I gently fire the cigar's foot. Soon my end is glowing cherry red. She takes a long drag, and then the Showbunny’s lungs are full of savory smoke. *Cough!**Cough!* *Cough!* Cottontail pulls away with an almost drunken expression. Her head spins as she swoons and exhales a thick cloud.

The rest of us aren’t far behind in coughing at the smog. Wow, that’s strong. My eyes sting and water while my body grows lighter. I feel pent up and energetic as I shiver at the effects. Shit, we’re going to hotbox ourselves at this rate!

“Let get show on road,” Dura states plainly as she grabs the giant cigar from Cottontail to take a monstrous drag that burns away half the length. Then she exhales massively to fill the chamber to bursting with smoke so thick I might cut it with a knife.

*Cough!**Cough!* *Cough!* *Cough!* *Cough!* 

No one is spared from the coughing fit this time. Satisfied, Dura drops the half-spent cigar down the hole as it continues to burn toward that fateful threshold.

Far, far below, the cigar lands on the cavern floor.

Cottontail has time to conjure a paper folding fan from her hat that seems on par with Harpy Air Magic in its ability to clear the room. She forces the smoke out through the entrance with a loopy expression, still woozy from her hit of the cigar.

And then the mountain shudders with a massive dull *WHUMP!*

My sudden fear that the ceiling is about to crash on our heads vanishes in a few short seconds as things stabilize and Cottontail’s fan flushes the ensuant rock dust out after the fleeing smoke. “That was more powerful than I thought,” I comment.

She blushes a pretty pink. “Y-yeah, that was a bit much, huh?”

“That’s my sister,” Megan says with pride, “Knocked all the bugs off the walls, that’s for sure!”

“But how we get down dere?” Dura wonders while peering into the smoky, dusty, but thankfully quiet, gloom.

“Oh!” Cottontail exclaims as a thought occurs to her. She proceeds to dig through her hat after a wave of her wand, pulling forth a feather that makes her sneeze when it brushes her nose, an eyedropper that doesn’t appear to have any use, and a big black umbrella with a hook handle.

The Showbunny adjusts her magician’s glasses as she brandishes the umbrella, unfolding the canopy to its full extent as she examines something imperceptible to our vision, and nods with satisfaction. “Okay, hold onto me.”

Dura takes her up on that invitation, grabbing Cottontail around the waist with a big, meaty mitt as the bunny girl steps out into open air. Instead of falling, or at least transferring her weight to Dura’s grip, the Showbunny floats in place over the bottomless shaft with one hand gripping the umbrella’s handle. Truly, the Showbuny never fails to impress these days!

Megan springs over to grab her sister’s free arm as Dura fearlessly follows Cottontail by stepping out into the abyss. The three of them begin to sink at a comfortable pace with the mouse in the bunny’s grip and the bunny in the Ogress’s.

I grab Sue, holding the cute frog girl like a princess before she can croak an objection that she’s fine on her own, and follow our companions in a descending series of midair double-jumps. Never mind that I take the opportunity to fondle Sue’s ample, speckled ass. The Froglin blushes but doesn’t try to escape my wandering hands.

Natural rock formations texture the walls around us as flickering orange and yellow light from my and Megan’s glowing fur plays across stone. Cobwebs coat every surface, though the fallen cigar’s burnt end has since cleared a path through the shaft’s center. Our estimation seems correct in that all the Servitors appear to have been knocked loose, but that doesn’t mean we have no opposition.

Trapdoors of webbing open along the sides of the vertical shaft as we fall and humanoid figures lunge forth with four arms apiece spread wide for a deadly embrace, their nails like claws. These women have inhumanly large, black eyes like a doll's along with six smaller ocular gems glinting with green. Their faces split open, jaws dislocating to reveal huge hypodermic fangs dripping venom. Servitors cling to their bodies like living armor, with another layer atop the first concealing everything below the neck.

“Watch out!” Megan screams, the first to notice trouble with her twitching, slender, black-tipped rodent ears. Her fists fly to pummel the nearest pop-up monster threatening her sister, striking multiple times a second in a brilliant, blond blur. The Webling’s head bobbles like a punching bag before the monster slumps limply back into their hole.

It’s Sue who saves my ass, though, as she kicks the Burrower flanking me in the face before I notice the bug monster. That one snaps their jaws at the air as they shake off the rebuff. Once the alarm is raised, I’m able to defend us both with prejudice. My fiery paws wheel us around in the air, Sue clutched tight in my arms, as I deliver a burning blow to the fanged arachnoid that makes them lose balance and fall down the pit.

“Squash da bug.” Dura summons a metal-studded club in her free hand and reduces the next Burrower menacing them to a smear on the cave wall with a flick of her wrist. Meanwhile, Cottontail has both arms occupied, unable to contribute other than to squeak a few fearful warnings.

Trapdoors open above us that shower Servitors on our heads. I double-jump above Cottontail’s umbrella to perform another Flaming Tornado Kick that shields my team from the rain of spider-crabs. My rapidly rotating legs smack dozens of the little buggers aside to slam against the cave walls as they fall around us like rain. I’m the umbrella now!

“Uuughhh, uwah, ugh…” Sue moans as she gets motion-sick from all the spinning.

Below, Megan and Dura are going to town on the trapdoor spiders no matter from which direction they come at us. Our Denki Nezumi has the speed and awareness to cover all two-hundred-seventy degrees that the Ogress can’t, deflecting leaping Servitors with precision punches, and showering blows on any would-be attackers. Dura is unstoppable, the chitinous exoskeletons of the living Servitor armor serving as no real protection against her club.

When we finally land, it’s atop a hill of arachnoid corpses.