“It’s all good.” Frost clapped his best friend on the shoulder. “It is what it is. And I’m not worried. Grenok is the first boss. That immediately solves the issue of Empowered Ameliorate. Most likely the void beholders are near him. We quickly clear the rest of the place, send for Zod, get the crafts done, and boom, you’ll cure us.”
“As if anything has ever worked out exactly as planned.” Smirking, Saba shook her head.
“Try your spells anyway, Meritus.” Gilda’s voice was hoarse when she spoke. “A little is better than nothing.”
Frost made to tell her not to worry. But she wasn’t looking in his direction. Nor at any of them. Her attention was beyond the little alcove in which they stood.
He suspected he knew exactly what held her spellbound. He felt it. A pull. An attraction like a piece of metal drawn to a magnet. It sucked at him. It led forward and up. He almost took a step in its direction.
“I’ll give it a shot. Stay still.” Meritus’ voice broke Frost from his trance.
Four separate misty threads of aether coiled into the air above Meritus’ palm. White, yellow, blue, and green. They spiraled into translucent balls. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the white of Purifying Touch zipping toward Frost. The moment the skill touched Frost, Meritus cast out Ameliorate’s blue, Suppression’s yellow, and Rejuvenate’s green.
When the spells hit Frost, something surged within him. He gritted his teeth, anticipating an increase in agony, a jolt, or maybe an easing of the pain already there, a stop to the annoying metallic clink.
If the pain and burning lessened, he couldn’t tell. Colored threads rippled down his arms. Darkness from his veins swallowed them in mere seconds. His magenta skin was still mottled with gray. He still heard the annoying metallic clink. The corruption eating away at his body and mind remained as potent as ever.
As did his sense of extra strength. Power.
Meritus let out a heavy sigh. “Sorry, my dude. I did my best.” He hung his head, shaking it slowly from side to side.
“You tried, dawg. Keep ya head up.” Frost tapped Meritus under the chin. When Meritus raised his head, Frost smiled. “And shaddup.”
“Shaddup,” Meritus replied softly, but there was little life to the joke. Nor did he smile.
Frost looked to the others. “No playing around from here on out. No wasting time. Take no chances. Buff and vial up for every encounter. Let’s find Grenok and the void beholders.”
They answered him with nods and intense expressions. Meritus cast Aura of the Nomarch, increasing their defense and vitality gained from heals. Aura of the Pack seeped into them by way of Saba, the twenty-five percent run speed buff giving Frost that wind-like sensation.
Dante strode to the open doorway. Bloomglobes lit the large room beyond, jutting from the walls at regular intervals. The light illuminated sand and stone for several hundred feet. They had to be on an upper floor, Frost concluded, because silver lights flickered in the distance, revealing the tops of several pillars. Somehow, the clink was even louder now.
When Dante entered the room, the rest of them followed, fanning out behind him. Gravelly sand and shale crunched underfoot. The place was quiet. Too quiet. The clink, clink in the back of Frost’s mind made it seem doubly so. The air was dry and smelled of age. And there was something else. A whiff of dead things.
“Saba.” Frost whispered in group chat, feeling the urge to avoid disturbing any unnecessary monsters. “Scout ahead until you can see what’s down by those pillars.”
“On it.” Saba faded from sight a moment later.
Echolocation scans revealed her form creeping forward. Frost kept his head on a swivel, The Stunner sweeping one way and then the other. Gilda’s chakrams lit up the area with their red and blue glows. Meritus summoned his Servitors. They took up positions around him.
A prickle of anticipation eased through Frost. “Dante, be ready to pick up anything.”
“I was born ready, boss.” Crescent axe held in both hands, the gurash edged ahead.
Gilda moved up beside Frost. “In the alcove, I felt you watching me. I saw you looking up. You feel it, don’t you? The power… the thing pulling at you? “
Frost nodded. He was on the verge of saying more when motion along the walls caught his eye. He turned his head quickly but saw nothing. When he refocused on Saba and Dante, the movement repeated. This time, Frost shifted his eyes alone.
“Stop.” Everyone froze at Frost’s command in group chat. “We got company. Don’t turn your heads. Just look at the walls out of the corner of your eyes. Saba, there’s no need to be Concealed.”
Six pairs of eyes with glinting silver pupils watched them from each wall. The eyes blinked, ochre lids matching the stone. One of them separated from the wall on a stalk as thick as a forearm. It swayed in the air.
“Beholders.” Frost voiced the thoughts he knew had to be in his friends’ heads. “Void or otherwise.”
“That’s not all.” Saba was close to the area where the ground looked as if it fell away. “Grenok is down here.”
Frost’s heart skipped a beat. “Alright, everyone get to Saba.” He peered directly at the wall. The stalk withdrew. The eyes vanished. “We won’t touch the beholders unless they attack first.”
“I don’t like the idea of leaving mobs at our backs.” Dante was already striding forward even as he voiced his complaint.
“Me neither.” Frost checked the wall again while he followed. The beholders hadn’t returned. “But I got a feeling we wouldn’t’ve been able to fight those ones here anyway.”
“I think you’re right.” Saba was pointing when Frost and the others reached her side. They were standing at the top of a long set of stairs that ended at an oval landing from which a flagstoned path stretched.
Bobbing up and down, beholders floated out from two alcoves on opposite sides of the landing. Despite maws large enough to swallow a man whole, the round blobs of grotesque flesh were noiseless. A single huge eye occupied the space above their fang-filled mouths, matching the smaller eyes on writhing serpentine stalks jutting from their bodies.
Frost counted twelve beholders in all, six per side. Judging from how highly defined they appeared, they were all elite, which was to be expected in dungeons. Every creature would be like them. He was surprised and glad none of them were GUMs. They formed a line on the landing, blocking the flagstoned path. Void energy radiated around them.
Despite the threat the beholders represented, it was what waited beyond them that drew Frost’s attention. In a cavernous opening beneath hanging stalactites, there was a gathering of people, creatures, and a gigantic beast on a stone platform partially surrounded by a black river.
Grenok the Devourer had all the traits of a demon. From the two curled horns on its head, skin of hellish hues, large webbed wings, and clawed hands and feet. The demon’s sole clothing was its leather kilt. Black veins bulged at its biceps and boulder shoulders, throbbing with a life of their own.
Frost frowned. Grenok was chained. Shackles the height of a man started below the demon’s knees and ended at its ankles. Chains led from the shackles, snaked along the ground, and rose up to meet rungs driven into the far walls. Whenever Grenok took a step, the chains rattled, matching the clink, clink Frost thought had been in his mind.
The demon was facing the Crypts’ rear walls. Cyan threads laced the ochre stone, leading up to the massive crystalline stalactites tinted with the same color. The color ended down below, where the tenebrous river flowed, separating the wall from the area upon which Grenok stood.
Among the people and creatures were eight forsaken priests, skeletal features exposed by their ragged robes. They shouted orders, cast spells at those too slow to comply, and even whipped some of their victims.
Four more priests occupied the side of the area closest to Frost�
��s group and farthest from the devourer. But these were motionless. Frozen. Standing at four cardinal points, they were translucent, as if they were Phased like the shadowmancer’s namesake spell. Their hands were outstretched above them, curled fingers grasping turquoise bands of color that spiraled up to an orb floating high above them. A column of aether rose from the orb and disappeared behind another set of stalactites.
Back toward Grenok, people and creatures trudged to the black river, herded by the forsaken who whipped any that tried to resist. Crying, screaming, or begging, they reached the platform’s edge. When they touched the seething liquid, the victims froze.
A moment later, Grenok’s hands glowed bluish-green. Ragged beams shot from them, reminiscent of a shadowmancer’s Life Link.
Within minutes, those in the river changed, their bodies losing life’s vigor, skin turning a mottled silver and black. They shambled from the river, void energy crackling around them. The priests led the newly created void minions across bridges on either side of the area and into alcoves. Fresh priests appeared, leading more victims.
“IS THIS NOT ENOUGH?” Grenok bellowed, his voice a rumbling peal of thunder. “FREE ME!” He shook his chains.
People and creatures scrambled away from him. The floating orb’s glow intensified. Grenok shook his head and unleashed a roar. The sound echoed with frustration, pain, and rage.
“Seems like our boy isn’t here of his own free will.” Frost squinted at the area and the boss.
“He definitely isn’t.” Gilda pointed at the four priests. “Looks as if they’re helping to keep him imprisoned somehow. Probably diminishing his power.”
“We might need to make certain they don’t die during the fight,” Frost mused. “Protecting them or healing them as necessary.”
“What about the other priests?” Dante asked. “The ones doing the work?”
“I’m willing to bet they’ll end up being his adds,” Meritus chipped in. “Might be best if we kill them.”
Frost nodded. “Sounds good. Also, we’re gonna have to avoid getting knocked into that river of void energy. Especially you, Dante.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem.” The marauder rested his axe on his shoulder. “I’ll just dance using Gravity Crush. It connects me with the Aetherstream, keeps me grounded and immune to knockdowns or knockbacks. When the effect is over, I’ll dodge or parry. As long as I don’t try a straight-on block, I’ll be fine.”
Grenok created another batch of void minions. “MY WORK IS DONE. FACE ME, COWARD.”
The demon threw his head back and stared up. For the first time, Frost noticed he could see the entire pyramid’s walls. Countless stairs, alcoves, and balconies led up and up and up to a ceiling where aether swirled like a turquoise sea.
Frost felt the pull again. Far stronger this time. It originated from somewhere up there.
“IF YOU ARE THE GOD YOU CLAIM, BANISH YOUR WRETCHED PRIESTS AND LET YOU AND I BATTLE!” Grenok roared and shook the chains.
Again, the orb above the Phased priests glowed. Grenok calmed and stalked away, grumbling.
“I wouldn’t want to be the person he’s talking to.” Frost shook his head before continuing with the strat he’d devised. “Tank with him facing us, Dante. Just as a precaution against a knockback. We should be okay unless he does some frontal AOE.” Frost eyed the priests. “While you’re building aggro, we’ll deal with the adds. Other than that, we learn and adjust like any other time. That’s about it, unless you got some inside info on this fight, Gilda. Or Meritus.”
“None.” Gilda shook her head.
“All I know is that WaR’s beaten him before,” Meritus said.
“Yeah, I was thinking about that earlier.” Frost stroked his aether ring. “It's why I believe WaR shot the Vindicator. The Genesis Engine area is Open-PVP. If they get there first and take it, I got no doubt they’ll be able to hold it. Their group was OP.” He scowled. “Our best chance is to beat them to it.”
“A slim chance since they already know the strat for Grenok,” Saba pointed out.
“I’ll take slim over none.” Frost hefted his cannon. “Let’s get to it. Everyone back up. Saba, pull the void beholders and run back to us. We won’t bother with our current traps because they’ll just fly over them. But since the beholders’ attacks are ranged, it’s gonna force them to come up within line o’ sight. As soon as they appear up here… smoke ‘em.”
They retreated about two hundred feet, leaving Saba alone at the top of the stairs. She glanced back at them, then turned, and in one smooth motion, drew an arrow, nocked, aimed, and loosed. Without looking to see if or when she struck her targets, she Streaked back to the group, body a blur, hooves kicking up dirt and shale.
Enraged screeches echoed from below. Frost inhaled slowly, easing his heartbeat, while he charged Homer. The moment the first few void beholders appeared, eye-stalks waving angrily, Gilda’s and Saba’s abilities shot across the distance.
Frost locked onto targets with eight quick taps on the trigger. On the eighth, he squeezed. Aether Missiles whooshed from The Stunner, splitting away to their destinations. In the next instant, he fired off Aether Fusillade. Four red Piercers streaked after the missiles.
The combined attacks struck the void beholders in a mass of explosions, ice, and fire. Frost was charging an Aether Bomb for good measure even as Gilda flung her instacast attacks and Saba shot her bow in quick bursts as if it were an automatic rifle.
No enemy passed through the spells or the energy attacks. The fire died. Smoke drifted away.
He eased his finger from the trigger. The charged Aether Bomb winked out. On the ground, the void beholders were writhing masses. Seconds later, they’d stopped moving altogether.
“Loot them and then prep for the real fight.” Frost led the way.
They picked among the void beholders’ mushy remains, removing the eyes from the stalks. When they had looted them all, the group slunk down the stairs toward Grenok, checking the alcoves against the possibility of more beholders.
Frost stopped when they got to the oval landing, a few hundred feet from the Phased priests. A lump formed in his throat. “Change o’ plans.”
Now on level ground with the devourer, Frost could properly assess the demon’s size. Dante, who was average height for a gurash, a bit over eight feet, would perhaps reach to the devourer’s mid-thigh. Frost swallowed.
“Dante, stay with us. Don’t engage Grenok unless he comes after us when we’re killing the trash mobs. No AOEs. All single target attacks.”
“What’re you thinking, boss?” the tank asked.
“I’m thinking that although we gotta kill him, he might not really be our enemy.” Frost was studying the boss again. “Seems to me that he hates those priests and is likely to be passive at first.”
“Cool. I’ll be ready to intercept if things go left,” Dante said.
“I know this might sound crazy.” Frost took a breath. “But I was also thinking maybe we should kill the Phased priests.”
“Crazy is an understatement.” Saba pawed at the ground. “You see the size of that thing? I thought we agreed they might be blocking his power, which will help us defeat him. Did we come all the way here, staving off death, to wipe now?”
“But what if we don’t need to beat him?” Frost argued. “The fact Kazuto got a drop from him without a World First Kill announcement says it’s possible. What if killing them frees him and he just leaves.”
“Too easy.” Saba shook her head. “Someone chained him here for a reason. He doesn’t seem too bothered about using innocent people and creatures to make void beasts out of them. What if he’s doing this bit in secret, maybe trying to build his power so he can break free and rape the world?”
“I agree with Saba, bro,” Dante said.
Frost looked to Meritus and G
ilda for their opinions.
“I’m with you, homie.” His best friend shrugged. “You know I always got your back.”
Gilda smiled tenderly at Frost. “I’m with whatever you decide, but there’s something you like to say. ‘Nothing worth doing is ever easy.’ Remember that?”
Smiling, Frost made to mention it was more Pops’ saying than his but changed his mind. “I remember.” He also remembered something else that fit in with his idea. Things that were too good to be true.
“Alright, kill the trash then deal with Grenok.” Frost took the first step forward, his heart thumping.
CHAPTER 32
Frost neared the Phased priests. They made no move to stop him, but the shift of their eyes said they were conscious, aware of the group’s presence. On a whim, Frost drew his Expedition Sword and stabbed at a priest. The weapon passed through the forsaken.
“Looks like we couldn’t kill them even if we tried.” Frost bypassed the Phased forsaken and continued for another fifty feet along the stone floor with its geometric designs.
He stopped. “While we fight, keep an eye behind in case the priests become active or if mobs come out the alcoves used by the beholders. Saba, wait until a batch of minions have been led away and a new group of priests replaces the old. Single attacks only. Vial up.” He followed his own command and drank several vials. “Dante, pick up as needed.”
“Got it, boss.” Dante strode forward some thirty or forty feet from the group.
The burning and pain within Frost spiked, reminding him it was there. He gritted his teeth against it. Sweat trickled down his face. A glance revealed all the bubbles on his gray-splotched hands had burst and were leaky sores.
He grimaced at the sight. “Get it together,” he muttered under his breath. “You’re almost there.”
The Forsaken Crypts Page 29