I think that someone is trying to kill me.
By someone, I mean something.
Something with a large set of really over-sized teeth.
White whale, Holy Grai- No. Stop that.
Not a whale, a shark.
A shark that's the size of a whale, bigger than a whale.
The kind of size that probably would eat whales if put in the same body of water for an extended period of time.
It did a pass by today.
Just a casual circle in, open its mighty and horrific maw, swallow half of the Eels gathered, and disappear back under the surface. Just a few dozen monsters, eaten in one bite.
No big deal.
No big deal.
I'm not scared. I'm approaching this subject rationally.
That's why I'm shooting fireballs at the water with complete abandon for aquatic life.
That's not me, that's a portion of the lake boiling.
I'm mostly out of magic now.
All-business and professional snake-persona has been adopted. I'm dealing with the matters at hand. Increased military mana-budgets this quarter, I already built a wall, very much against Cannibalistic Eel immigration. Border protection is of the utmost importance.
Politically I think I'm really holding up my end of the bargain.
If I had hair, I'd probably comb it over.
That one was me. The water around Camp Alcatraz is just a bit foggy now. There's no way to deal with it. One tiny snake can't boil the entire lake, no matter how much he really, really wants to.
I even leveled up again, it only took thirty or forty Eels catching fire, and another thirty or forty taking the bait and following suit. So eighty Eels was one level.
Long gone are the days of mushroom related leveling.
But eighty Eels... That's probably half or less when compared to what the Megalodon gobbled down with a single laid-back pass. It wasn't even trying, it just sort of opened its mouth and swallowed everything. Those teeth weren't even necessary.
So... What level is that I wonder? One or two gobbles a week, a few hundred Eels in each... extend and multiple that back at least a few centuries from the looks of that fin...
Tiny-Snake-God, this is not okay.
I thought that falling-back to setting everything on fire might be the plan here, but now there are even more Eels. They're eating each other.
They're huge fans of barbecue.
They've let the whole lake know, spread the word about Alcatraz smokehouse Grill.
The critics are raving.
Oh, Tiny-Snake-God. If you don't send another brave Frog Prophet to show me the way out of this, it might really be the end.
Miss Paladin is shouting at me. She's waving a rock-spoon at me, all angry-like.
"_______ __ ____!" She's yelling. "____ __ ______!"
She always knows just what to say at a time like this. Probably:"Stop shooting fireballs you majestic and wonderous snake" or "Build the tower and show mercy to your pitiful enemies: you're too strong for them!"
Yup, those both sound like they could fit. Definitely what she said.
Long way down the tower now. A couple more slithers, and I think I might be able to start molding the ceiling down to meet me.
I think after dinner I'm going to have to try and come up with a way to communicate our situation to her. People have a right to know about giant-sharks.
That's a basic thing, twenty-eighth amendment. Look it up.