by Wolfe Locke
Focusing on the enemy before him, Seraph pushed away his other thoughts, surging forward with a burst of energy, getting into the monster’s guard as the skeleton raised its sword with a casualness and ease many would be jealous of. Even as it swung, it was no match for Seraph as he swiped the Cat’s Claw with the precision of a surgeon, severing the skeletal skull from the rest of the body, the head falling on the ground a few feet away as Seraph shifted his posture to face the eleven remaining skeletons.
When the body of the monster did not immediately collapse into a heap of bones, instead continuing to stand and fight, Seraph knew he had a problem. The giant sword swung around in a wide horizontal arc that Seraph barely managed to avoid by diving under the blade.
I’m in trouble, Seraph thought, fearing the situation was not as under control as he had thought it was. Severing the head from the neck had always been an instant killing move against most undead—even skeletons. Which meant either the rules had changed, or these were different monsters altogether; neither answer was preferred.
In his anger, he kicked the severed skull away from him, and as it crashed into a wooden crate, parts of the skull caved in. With the destruction of the skull, the body could not stay together, and it crumbled. The magic animating the bones dispelled.
So, the head has to be destroyed, Seraph thought. That’s a bit more difficult and time-consuming. I’m not sure I can take out the remaining eleven like that.
As the skeletons approached, they were not scattered. Instead, they walked in a row with each other. Seraph moved around, trying to give them a wide berth and not let himself get cornered, making sure to dodge the spray from the abyssal ocean as he maneuvered himself. Seraph knew it had been unlikely, but he was still disappointed when he saw the shower of ocean mist have no effect on the skeletons. Scanning his surroundings for anything he could use, he said a silent prayer to the spirit of the World Dungeon that none of the undead had been armed with a bow and arrows.
The skeletons were still fundamentally low-level creatures that would offer him few benefits for their destruction, but the amount of danger they presented certainly complicated things. The risk-reward wasn’t worth it, but Seraph knew he would not be able to avoid them forever. Having wasted enough time trying to gather his thoughts to form a plan, Seraph had to admit he didn’t see a way to get through them that didn’t involve destroying them.
I may have made a judgment error in assuming I wouldn’t have any struggles taking these skeletons down, Seraph was forced to acknowledge as he thought about just making another mad dash for the shore. But he dismissed the idea when he looked down the way.
Farther down the pier walkway, Seraph could see another skeleton forming, this one compiled from multiple bodies littered around. They floated in the air as they forged themselves into a giant skeleton—a Skeletal Lord—cutting off any chance of escape he had. It began running straight towards him.
The Skeletal Lord was at least three meters tall and ran with a measured even Olympic pace. This was not a simple undead. In its right hand, it held a thick iron blade and, in its left, a bulky crossbow. Seraph knew the World Dungeon was testing him at this point, actively observing what he was doing.
Let him watch then, thought Seraph in a burst of inspiration as he summoned his ethereal arms and covered himself with them. He activated his Cold Hands ability and froze the thick moisture in the air around him by leaching its energy and using that stolen energy to fuel the spell.
A thick sheet of ice spread around him like a shield. It was not a perfect or absolute defense, but it would have to do. The application worked similarly to the defense he once used when he still had his feathers of black iron.
Using his ethereal arms to maintain the ice shield, Seraph thrust his open hands onto the ground, palm downwards, touching the pier with just his fingers as he siphoned energy from the wooden planks beneath him.
Within seconds, ice began to form on the ends of his hair, and his breath became visible as the air around him chilled to freezing. The wooden pier began to radiate cold as a consequence of Seraph’s ability.
There's no other way to get through this, Seraph thought, his teeth chattering as his hands ached from the cold. Digging deep within himself, Seraph hardened his will, his desire to live greater than the pain.
Inside his protective Ice Shield, Seraph could see chunks of ice vibrate and fall inwards as the Skeletons on the outside attacked his defensive barrier with their swords and axes. Thankful for the ethereal arms that maintained the ability as he saw the tips of swords and axes cut through the ice, he knew if his real arms had held the spell, he would have lost them.
The pain in his hands faded, and Seraph fully committed to freezing the pier. As the light began to show the ice shield, he knew it was failing. It wasn’t a surprise though; Seraph had already known the ice barrier would not last for long, but he didn't need it to; all he needed was a few extra moments to freeze the area.
They were a few extra moments he might not have. Realizing he was almost out of time, something hit the ice shield with a thud as large cracks spiderwebbed across the sheet, and the head of a cross-bolt appeared right above his face, embedded deeply into the ice, stopping mere inches from killing him.
There was no way for him to repair the damage to the ice sheets. All he could do was maintain, and even then, a few more attacks from the skeletons or one more attack from the cross-bolt and his defense would completely shatter. Then Seraph would be vulnerable and soon killed. Alternatively, Seraph knew if the Skeletal Lord reached him before he was ready, the thing would quickly dispatch him. All it would take was one swing of its great ax to cleave the ice in half and Seraph with it.
As his lips began to turn blue, and ice started to form on the outer portions of his face, Seraph realized in fear that if he kept this up, he could freeze himself to death. The spell was in every sense of the meaning a double-edged sword. A double edge that worsened as he realized both of his hands had been completely frozen through. Unable to move his hands, and hoping the damage wasn’t permanent, he kept up the ability.
I need even more, Seraph thought. He could not disengage the ability—not now when he was so close. Not when he was so committed. Seraph pushed his mana into his ethereal arms, trying to buy precious seconds more of protection and more power through his hands as the force he exerted splintered the fingers on his off-hand. They broke like porcelain.
With a scream of outrage, Seraph ignored the damage to his body even as he thrust the palms of his ruined hands into the pier to keep the ability going. His persistence paid off as he heard the sound of cracking below him as the frozen wooden planks began to crumble, warped from both energy loss and the extreme cold. They broke into small pieces as they tumbled into the ocean below.
A domino effect had been started. One plank fell into the ocean as another broke off and soon followed. Seraph was mostly satisfied with the result as he watched the skeletons around him fall down into the dark waters.
As Seraph released the spell, a horrible reality came to him as he found he could not dislodge his off-hand from the rapidly deteriorating pier floor. He didn't have time to second guess himself or struggle to explore and find alternative solutions. Swiftly and decisively, he used the Cat’s Claw attached to his free arm to cut his hand off at the wrist.
Filled with pain, Seraph was still forced to try and keep his wits about him as the Skeletal Lord had not been destroyed along with the rest of the skeletons when the portions of the pier collapsed. But Seraph was not without a weapon, and he was not going to wait for another shot from the crossbow.
Seraph was left with the remaining residual energy he had stolen from the environment around him, his remaining hand glowing with power. He looked at the towering skeleton as it approached. The skeleton quickly cleared the holes and pitfalls that had begun to appear on the floor of the destroyed pier. He let go of the energy he had been holding, and as fast as a bolt of lightning, it struck the colossal
skeleton, scattering the bones into pieces but not destroying it—evident by the glowing ambient aura that remained around it.
Before the Skeletal Lord could reassemble itself, Seraph picked up one of the rocks that was scattered around near him and hadn’t fallen into the angrily churning water below him with his right hand. Seraph stared at the oversized skull and willed some of the remaining mana in his body to form a path through the air—guiding the rock with magic where his frozen and stiff fingers could not—directly towards the skull. Putting all the force he could behind it, he threw the rock as hard as he could, and the sound it made as it hit the skull was sickening as the skull fractured into multiple parts. With the destruction of the monster's head, the aura surrounding the bones disappeared, defeated.
Chapter 10: The Abyssal
* * *
Immediately, in response to the falling debris and the death of the Skeletal Lord, the water on both sides of the pier began to churn, exploding upward through the gaping holes in the wood. Sensing the danger and hearing the noise, Seraph threw himself backward, trying to avoid any of the wretched corruption of the abyssal water getting on him, damaging his body further. The water reformed itself into dark tentacles that spread out like tendrils, probing, searching for the cause of the noise and the source of the disturbance.
Clutching the end of his severed arm, Seraph was thankful that his frozen skin was mostly painless as he slowly backed away from the tentacles as they explored and probed, treading carefully as he moved to not make any noise that could attract them toward him—though Seraph wondered why the same response had not been triggered by dispersing the lesser skeletons.
As the monstrous tendrils moved about, Seraph could see they were made up of blackened water, and bones that were dark, greasy and slick from oil. The composition exposed it as something far more sinister than what Seraph had initially thought. This was not an Abyssal Ocean; it was an Abyssal Elemental. A legendary grade water elemental that had been corrupted. Something far deadlier than just corrupted water.
Seraph watched as the thing carefully went through the pier, searching the overturned bodies, the skeletal bones, the left-behind clothes, and the overturned boxes and trash. Not once did the thing approach the locked gate, as if in avoidance. Seraph would store that information away for later. Eventually, the tentacles found the rock that Seraph had thrown to destroy the skull of the Skeletal Lord.
Without any effort, one of the tentacles wrapped around the rock and crushed it into a dust so fine that it scattered onto the wind rather than falling to the ground. Seraph knew if he was caught by those things, it would, without a doubt, result in his death.
Though he did not hear any sounds, Seraph felt, and knew, that the monster was dissatisfied at having found only rock to crush. The need to kill rolled off it in waves of emotion. It desired… it needed a life to take, and Seraph knew on an instinctive level that he needed to be looking for an escape; this monster would only be satisfied if it caught something or someone else, and Seraph knew the impossibility of someone else arriving for him to sacrifice to the beast. It was an impossible situation, made worse by the monster being something outside of his ability to kill or somehow maim to getaway.
As Seraph looked for a way to escape, knowing that to be touched by the monster would mean death, an uncomfortable truth came to him. An intelligence guided those dark tendrils, and they began to sweep to the end of the pier, looking for signs of life. The abyssal probed inside the crates and wooden boxes that had been scattered around while destroying the remnants of the bodies it came in contact with, disintegrating into dust the bones that had not yet animated.
For a brief moment, Seraph thought he would be safe—unmoving and quiet like he was—but when the dark tendrils found no life at the end of the pier, they quickly switched direction, heading his way as more of the dark water exploded onto the landing. For a brief moment, he thought about staying in place to avoid drawing any additional attention, thinking maybe the tendrils would give up the search.
Thinking of the bloodlust he had felt emanating from the creature, Seraph shook his head. That’s a terrible idea, he thought critically. If I stay here, those things will find me, and my bones will join the ranks of the dead. I need to get out of here without drawing attention to myself.
As the tentacles reversed direction, passing across the dungeon doorway, they decompensated into a pool of black water. For a moment, Seraph felt relief as he backed away slowly. A short-lived relief until the monster reformed into a loose web of abyssal netting.
I don’t know if that’s automatic or not, thought Seraph as he looked at the abyssal netting and saw that its surface was streaked and rugged. In several places, hands appeared to be trying to push their way out into the world—whether to escape or look for him, Seraph did not know. But I need to assume it’s going to sweep the entire pier until it catches me.
Carefully, Seraph continued to move away from the spreading water, trying to maintain his distance as he focused on getting to the shore. He walked with a hurried but careful pace, staying in front of the danger behind him, not wanting to join whatever else had been imprisoned and absorbed by those dark waters, and not wanting to trigger any additional responses from the elemental.
With his attention focused on staying alive, Seraph didn’t notice that his arm had started to ache as the limb began to thaw out. His blood began to drip from the wound and drew the attention of the black death that was the elemental. It sprang forward in a burst of speed, nearly catching Seraph unprepared. Either he would be faster than the thing behind him, or he wouldn’t be, and that left him with but one course of action. He summoned all his energy, and with no other choice, Seraph ran, leaving nothing behind and nothing in reserve.
As Seraph sprinted, the dark abyssal elemental behind him pulled itself up from the very depths of the ocean, exposing the ocean floor as bare with no signs of life—be it plant or otherwise. The abyssal elemental transformed itself from a net into a giant wave that would cover the entirety of the pier and crash against the shore. Frantically, Seraph urged himself on, reaching deeper into himself, pulling out even more speed, and forcing himself to go faster beyond his limits as muscles strained and tendons pulled.
Forcing himself to ignore the pain, Seraph was slowly able to grow the gap between him and the pursuing abyssal. His legs screamed as tissue began to tear. Seraph’s heart was pumping hard, and his lungs were gasping for air. His sides burning, he refused to let up even as he felt his body beginning to wear down. He was so close to the shoreline.
Looks like I’m going to clear it, Seraph thought with a measure of relief; he needed to get to safety soon and heal before blood loss caused him to lose too much.
Unfamiliar with this level of exertion, and further exacerbated by blood loss, Seraph’s vision began to blacken. As stars appeared and his body stopped perspiring., Seraph kept telling himself to not quit. He knew so long as he didn’t quit pumping his legs, he would survive. He had no choice but to keep going, or the monster would consume him.
With only a few meters to go until he reached the shore, Seraph was no longer able to ignore the blackening of his vision or the damage to his lower extremities as one meniscus tore, causing him to stumble, agony wracking his body. Seraph, clumsy from his exhaustion, his legs injured, and afflicted by deep fatigue that was eating at his consciousness, collapsed in a heap, unable to see as his vision went dark, taking every ounce of his concentration to avoid slipping into unconsciousness.
Though he couldn’t see, Seraph knew the abyssal elemental would be catching up to him soon, and though his legs no longer responded like they should, and although his body was broken, he still had use of an arm and use of some magic. Seraph used his “Thousand Handed” ability to summon his ethereal arms, and he started to drag himself across the ground. His only thoughts were that he needed to get moving, hyper-focused as he manipulated both physical and magical limbs to move his body.
It lasted
all of a few seconds before Seraph fell back to the ground, his mana depleted. The beast would be on him soon. There was nothing more for him to do but wait for death to take him; he had misjudged his own strength and had underestimated the environment around him.
No longer able to fight off his exhaustion, Seraph slipped into an unconscious state, his body inert on the pier. Vaguely in the back of his mind, Seraph felt his body pulling, sliding against the wooden planks beneath him as he felt the barbs of a mouth fullof a thousand teeth bite into him, and he screamed.
Chapter 11: In Between
* * *
Within the dark recesses of his mind where Seraph had retreated, dark thoughts of death stirred—nightmare imaginings of clawed demons rending his flesh as his soul was cut down by reaper scythes, dragging him down into the pits of hell. The crying wails of his victims assaulting him in a chorus of millions. It would not be the first time such images and thoughts had plagued him, nor would it be the last.
Still unconscious, Seraph began to stir, vaguely becoming more and more coherent, though not yet awake. He questioned whether or not he wanted to be. Existing in a state of limbo between the living and the dead, Seraph could only imagine what was happening to his body as images of things he had never seen before began to flash across his mind. Ambiguous memories of his legs being flayed by the razor-sharp teeth of the elementals tentacles flooded his mind, and the painful sensation of his back being torn open could be felt as the Abyssal Elemental liquified his body, destroying his organs and nervous system before consuming him.