Chapter 13: Burp

I had succeeded in getting the elf-woman to actually try and fight me. Unfortunately, she got real careful with that itty-bitty city after just a few steps. It seemed liked the fae were cooperating by moving out of her way. Even after her lover led me to them, they seemed to try and make it easier for her.

Well, I suppose they did have a mutual enemy still: me. No worries, it was still entertaining. The little elf carefully moved through the city, all while I swayed my legs in delight. It was admittedly amusing in its own special way. That mix of anger and cautiousness just seemed humorous to me for whatever reason. My smile grew wider.

Then, I felt it. A bit of a stirring in my gut. It was familiar, and I knew what was coming. This was one of the bigger ones. The lucky timing surprised me as much as it delighted me.

A buildup of air brewed in my belly and roared up my throat. I did my conscious part, relaxing my gullet and preparing to open wide so as to unleash what was coming upon the city.

With the elf and the shroom-treant due in front of me, city before and beneath them, I opened wide and let loose one of the biggest belches I’ve ever done.

It was loud enough to rock *my* ears, and it felt fiery hot roaring past my maw.

I kept it going for a good few seconds.

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“Burrrrrrrrrp”

Before Helemys, Miraddella, or anyone else could figure out what was coming, it was already far too late. Bula’s mouth swung open and she unleashed a bassy explosion of torrid, roaring air.

The burp shook the ground and the air itself with its roar. A fierce gale of the hot air knocked Helemys right over. She fell down atop some of the sprite homes she had tried to avoid earlier. A few dozen sprites were caught beneath as well, crushed beneath her hindquarters and the palms she slammed to the ground to try and stop the fall. One pixie was even caught beneath the elf’s back, but she was big enough to not have more than a few bruises once the elf sat up.

Yet, none of that mattered. The city was doomed anyways. The burp tore through it more than the elf ever good. The burp that knocked over the elf was a veritable storm to the city itself.

The hot, humid air came from Bula’s gut and ripped through buildings like a hurricane. Not just roofs, but the little nature-made hovels themselves were uplifted if not exploded outright from the force. All those carefully placed floral ornaments and delicately shaven twig fortifications were broken and scattered to the scorching burp-winds as deadly debris.

Though a few fae did die to the hurtling bits of nature, it was only a few. Bula’s burp itself was deadly to the magical beings. Sprites in its path didn’t stand a chance, as the force of the burp either crushed their bones outright if close enough, or sent them colliding into the ground at deadly speeds.

Many survived the initial impact with the ground or whatever they flew towards, but their wings didn’t. The belch was fierce enough to tear even the pixie wings, so the delicate insect-like wings of the sprites basically evaporated. Of course, a fae could regenerate its wings over time, and healing magics and potions did exist for that sort of thing. However, that took time, and it didn’t seem likely they’d get the chance. Besides, they had other more pressing injuries to worry about.

Bula’s burp carried more than hot air. Bits of saliva joined the torrid torrent. The amounts were small enough to avoid notice from Bula. However, the troll was big and the sprites were small. So, even that much had an effect.

Minute to Bula, droplets of saliva slammed into a few sprites. Some were hit right out of the air, while others were hit while they were already writhing on the ground, immobile. In either case, humiliation followed if drowning didn’t. Those wounded beforehand were in no position to wiggle away or dodge, after all.

To the inch-tall sprites, Bula’s “tiny” bits of spittle were still about half a meter of cloying coating. The fluid covered the faces of many a paralyzed fae, wounded from the burp, who either stewed in the stuff as insult to injury, or were positioned poorly enough to asphyxiate on some of the littlest beads of troll spit.

The torrent carried broken homes and fae all the way to Miraddella. Though farthest from the burp, she was still directly opposite it. She closed her black eyes as the torrid air stung it. The scent of Bula’s living meals was upon it, along with a vile acrid hint.

Sprites crashed into her thick stalk by the hundreds and, as with most of Bula’s actions, a few pixies were caught up in it too. Broken debris and bodies hit the shroom-treant. She was fine physically from it; her white shroom-stalk flesh was spongy enough to take the hit. Still, mentally, it was agonizing to watch much of the city and the people she overlooked slamming into her, broken.

The last bit of horror came in the form of partially digested fae. Since the gas of the burp came from Bula’s gut, it carried some of the matter in there with it. In there, the current was strong enough to launch up all the victims churning away, but only the sprites were small and light enough to slip past the sphincter towards her esophagus and ride the current straight out her mouth.

They didn’t do so alive, however. Many were dissolved bodies at that points, barely skeletons. The few surviving fae at the time of the burp died flying up her throat in torrid, forceful belch-winds. Their corpses went with the burp to slam into the city and Miraddella at the other end.

These acid-melted or burp-torn corpses were comparatively few and, like the tiny bits of spittle, went unnoticed by Bula. However, each and every one elicited a horrible shriek from the fae who saw them. Many had a twisted reunion with their friends or lovers in this sense.

One female sprite had, via pure, cruel chance, her lover’s acid-drenched skeleton land right atop her own burp-broken form. Plenty slammed into Miraddella too, where they briefly besmirched her stalk before falling off the 50ft shroom-treant to the ground.

Sadly, even many of the living sprites that slammed into her fell as well. Their wings useless, they splattered to the ground with her able to do nothing but watch.

The destructive belch continued for what felt like minutes, but was in fact only a few seconds. Once it finally settled, the fae could finally hear their own cries of agony and dismay with the bassy boom of it gone.

All turned to the giant troll again soon enough after the burp stopped. Helemys in particular stared, abhorred, at a satisfied looking Bula. The giant troll let out a sigh then, as an extra bit of humiliation, a quick, short post-burp mini-belch.

“Ha”, said Bula.

That was it. All she immediately had to say about that devastating eructation was a curt little chuckle.