Digimon Inheritance: A Heroic Lion's Turbulent Times (Finished)

[] Now's not the time for talking. You need to get back to camp as fast as possible to meet up with the rest of your squad, focus all your attention of guiding Maildramon where to go.

===

Tha-thank the spirit's. It-it's over.

Your body's ramptant shaking is finally quelled and the bated breath in your chest is released. Aside from Repulsa you'd never seen anything so terrifying as that... monster Pidmon was transforming in to. With it's defeat, the pressure keeping you locked firmly in place is gone, leaving you finally able to freely move once more.

Thanks to Angemon's sacrifice your friend was saved. However you have no idea what's going to transpire upon the small angel's wake. The thought of him reverting back is horrifying, but the threat Darcmon spoke of is a more pressing matter. One that overwhelms even your curiosity about what took place before your arrival. Though you're not the only one disturbed by recent events, Sparks's clear blue eyes are practically glued to Pidmon's unconscious form, his remaining hand actively shaking.

Naturally you take a step forward wanting to comfort your friend, but then something hits you.

G-going back o-on Maildramon w-will mean... f-flying again.

Despite trying hard to steel yourself for what's coming ahead, your body refuses to listen and begins to shake again anyways.

With the others occupied, it fall upon you to carry the taller of the two unconscious Pidmon over to Maildramon's back. It's harder for your group to mount the armored dramon now that he's without the "Saddle" but they make do. Unfortunately, you don't get to ride on the massive champion's back. No you're forced to fly held inbetween the feral digimon's front paws.

For the first few seconds as Darcmon hurries Maildramon to start flying away, it's all you can do to stop yourself from screaming. However as the seconds pass you begin to grow used to the crushing grip... sort of. Through the terror and hyperventilating, you dive into the only possible solace available. Navigation.

In the comforting darkness of your mind, you begin forming a model of the recent travels, using the various numbers you'd memorized during the travel to help form the most accurate mental map possible. With frantic speed, you backtrack through the areas your search-party had traveled. All thoughts of falling down to your death, being caught by enemy mon, or Pidmon's monstrous form fade away as you focus on a single task.

Travel to Angemon, search river bank from left turn. Through tunnel. Account for slight curve, north through ravine, northwest from quarry. East from camp... Average distance traveled through wingbeat of Maildramon... Maildramon has flapped eighteen times. Left from west. Which means.... P-please be r-right.

You begin to shout out direction to the feral digimon, directing it southeast towards the area where your mind says the clearing where the mission began should be.

Y-you're good at this Verge. It's alright. Y-I won't fail...

=

Y-yes!

You nearly shout in relief as Maildramon sets down in the initial clearing, an area that should be safe given how it's located far far away from the Gloaming's searching forces. Well, if Owlmon was right in any case, though you really don't want to entertain that particular thought given the panic it sparks in your digicore.

Darcmon hastily unloads the two unconscious angels, then weakly kicks the taller Pidmon's helmet to wake him from his fear-induced slumber. From there, she orders him to scavenge for food before declaring that you and Sparks should rest. The female angel that you very heavily suspect to be a devolved Angewomon, takes a few seconds to grumble something about "Fucking pain, and no goddamned booze" before sitting down beside the group's only feral mon. You can't imagine how much having a wing torn off would hurt, but she seems to be dealing with the pain rather well.

Sparks elects to take a small nap, but you jump right to studying. With everything that's happened you need to spend some time relaxing. Going over the lines of zero's and one's and how to properly shape one's energy through sorcery and prayer is not only interesting, but genuinely fun. You don't really know when the change occurred when the act of studying went from semi-stressing in the mental department to fun, but through your many hours learning your disposition towards the subject has undeniably changed.

Pidmon (your friend that is) wakes up early into the morning, but... something about him is off. The champion is horribly and totally dejected, he doesn't respond to Darcmon's greetings and just spends time staring at his right hand. The same one which he'd used to gut his mentor. Sparks keeps a healthy distance from him for now, a wise choice given what happened and you're absolutely terrified of the small holy mon right now.

That monstrous form, the malice it... E-even thinking about it makes me want to run.

Still, leaving your friend alone after such a traumatic even doesn't sit right with you. More hours pass and you begin to marshal your courage, swearing that you will try to comfort your friend about his near... fall. Just, not right now, you want to make a little bit more progress on your healing spell.

The taller Pidmon returns around noon covered in a multitude of cuts and stuck with twenty-one long thorns, but aside from a couple pieces of fruit has nothing to really show for it. Darcmon pulls rank, swipes the first from his possession and devours the fruit in a trio of messy bites. The other one joins it's brother in her stomach shortly thereafter. Her hogging all the scavenged food is rather frustrating and you only barely manage to avoid glaring at her in the following minutes. Her subordinate manages to pull together enough energy for another "Mega Heal" which is enough to reattach the injured angels wing.

Mere minutes after noon, the battle-weary other half of your squad limps into the clearing. Well except Ardat, who's happily skipping while humming some jolly tune. Seeing the strongest members of your group once more, even when they're clearly tired and wounded is a major relief. Despite the Sergeant's brusque attitude the fact is that he can tangle with other Ultimate digimon and win. If your search party had met even a weak one, none of you would have made it out alive. Beat walks over to Pidmon, stares down at the angry-moping angel for a few seconds, then shrugs and wanders off towards the clearing's edge so he can lean on a tree. The orange-haired Witchmon shoots you a half hearted glare, her lips formed into a disapproving pout before she "Hmphs" and deliberately turns away from you. For your part, you shrug the behavior off as just another eccentricity.

Judging by the fact that your superior's body is more hurt than before, he must have been responsible for making sure no high level digimon were among the enemy search party's. Darcmon makes a beeline for the Mistymon, for some odd reason salutes then clears her throat as if to speak. You pad closer to listen in.

"-three main servants and I suspect that smug fuck of an iceDevimon have all become Ultimate's. Our squad didn't stand a bloody chance against those bastards and that was before the lord be cursed Mechanorimon showed up. There must have been dozens of them."

...Th-no. Four more Ultimate level digimon?!

"Before they found us we saw signs of an ever larger Ultimate level digimon used to transport troops. No idea where that vampire shithead got his grubby hands on so much power, but we have to inform the Throne. If we enter into battle against those dark-zoned be damned bastards then it's going to be a fucking slaughter."

At this point you've once again graduated into hyperventilating and find yourself clutching at your chest. The roiling energy is bubbling uncontrollably under your skin to the point where it feels like it could burst any second. In desperation you begin to chant Sorcerymon's first healing spell and in doing so almost miss Darcmon's last line.

"Count's managed to recruit another pair of fucking monsters under his command. I've got no idea how that prick managed it, but he's tamed a fraking BlackGrowlmon, and some sort of insanely mutated fucking Antlyamon." Something about hearing the two mon, strikes a sense of desperate worry in your core, but the reason as to why is a mystery. "With the others dead, I'm the only one here fast enough to get there and warn him before shit goes down. I'll leave Maildramon here for now, but I can't stay for any longer.

"Understood Imperius."

With that the feminine champion whirls about and whizzes out of the camp at top speed, seconds later she's gone from your vision. You close your eye and try to come to term with the frankly disastrous information. After all, you'd been led to believe that your side was going to have a decisive victory. The knowledge that Count is going to turn the tables is… extremely concerning.

Of course, when your remaining eye opens back up the mysterious Msitymon is there. The officer is suddenly there looming above your form with his empty eyes staring through you.

"Fledgling Drimogemon." he states, lip forming into a rare frown. "Your condition has worsened."

Is... why does he look, sad?... Doe-does he know that I loaded another mon?

"Y-yeah, but. I-It's fine. I'll make it!" You declare trying to sound as confident as possible. Though you think the stutter might have given things away.

"... your time is short. Do not attempt further training, or overexert yourself." The Ultimate digimon's sudden worry over your condition is chilling. For as long as you've known him the Mistymon hasn't really cared that much about your survival... right? He hadn't even wanted you to join at first. The sudden change is chilling to say the least, but after a couple seconds you realize the actual content of his words.

N-no training? I don't like it but... how am I supposed to get more power?

"O-okay. I'll, stop."

"We will speak more of this later." he continues, before glancing over left, where Ardat has started whistling for some reason. Another rare warm smile alights on the older digimon's face before he nods to himself. "We leave in two hours. For now, fledgling recuperate" With that he walks away.

Two hours?... then I suppose I could:

===You have the option to do one thing before speaking to Pidmon, during which Sparks will join you. (Choose One)

[] Studying your current spell shouldn't count as training right? Your current progress has been quite relaxing, and you've made a bit of progress, but you can always do more! Sure you won't be finishing it anytime soon, but every bit of progress counts if you want to be able to use it someday.

[] Okay, you have to admit you're curious as to why Ardat is acting so strange towards you now. Go talk to the Witchmon and try to find out what's gong on with her. Plus it's been a while since you've really interacted with the eccentric Witchmon. In a way she has grown on you... maybe like a kind of moss?

[] Ask the other Pidmon about what happened on his mission. From what you've gathered he was part of at least two others squad's before something bad happened. Angewomon got hurt so badly she devolved into a Darcmon (you think) and the rest of his fellows were deleted. Something must have gone wrong.

===Stat/Skill/Misc Changes:

Studying (2 special, 2 Spirit)
Agility (Training Weights)
Bonus Points: Spirit, Strength, Special)

• Strength: 291.50->292.00
• Fortitude: 267.50
• Endurance: 247.25
• Agility: 227.50->228.00
• Special: 256.50->257.50
• Spirit: 219.75->221.25

Basic High Programming: 33.00/100->33.75/100
???: A more powerful healing spell. is now at (6/16)

===Authors Note: Update was not Beta'd sorry. As a note, this arc is coming to and end really soon. Something special, is coming soon.