by Erik Colombe
“I’m not from here. I’m not from this world, I mean. I was brought here by a malevolent force calling itself a god. I managed to escape her, but where I’m from, people have escaped the world and gone beyond the clouds. I studied hard every day, only taking breaks to play games. I didn’t have friends, not many anyway, and I spent my time learning, getting good grades.”
“Grades?” Max asked confused.
“I worked hard to impress my teachers with the knowledge I had learned so I could join others who have gone beyond the clouds.”
“There is nothing beyond the clouds, except for the land of the dead,” Max said.
“That’s what people from my world used to think as well, but there is. What do you think stars are?”
“Pin pricks in the fabric of the sky. That is what is told to us by the elders.”
“They are actually giant balls of fire that are larger than the ground we walk,” John said, trying to explain space and astronomy like he would to a five-year-old.
“Then why are they so small?”
“They are so far away that they look so small. In my world, we created a ship capable of flying. It allowed us to go beyond the clouds, and we could see for ourselves what was there. You had to be smart to be one of the few that got to go on the ship, and that’s why I worked at learning the skills to understand the composition of the fabric of our world, and now, it’s worthless in this world where magic exists,” John said, concentrating on the tar beneath him. He could see the stars’ reflection, but he swore he saw a ripple in the tar, like something was moving. He hoped he had just imagined it due to exhaustion.
“Is that why your magic is so powerful?”
“Huh, what do you mean?” John asked.
“You threw fire into the Tar Sea. I have only heard of magicians from my elders, but they channeled the elements, usually one or two, but you have the ability to manipulate it like I have never heard before.”
John thought back to when he had used the fire grenade on the Tar Sea. It was mostly good luck that it worked, but at the same time, it wasn’t. He knew about combustion, how fire under extreme pressure caused rapid violent expansion. He had been fascinated with the idea when he first saw a rocket taking off to deliver a satellite into space. It had been in his science class. They were watching a televised event, and he had looked up so many of them on the internet after he had seen that. It wasn’t just his fascination with space. He excelled at chemistry and any science class he had taken. Unconsciously, he had been infusing his magic with that understanding.
“You want to go home, don’t you? Go back to where you can use that knowledge, but can’t you use it here? It sounds like many have gone where you want to go, but here, you’d be the first,” Max said.
“Maybe…” John responded, but he was distracted by the Tar Sea shifting again. This time, he was sure of it. He aimed his analyze skill at where he thought he saw movement.
Name: Undead Collective
Level: 79
Magic: random
Class: Undead
You have got to be joking. There are more than one of those damn things in this place. Did I sign us up for a death sentence? John wondered, honestly thinking this world didn’t play by the rules; maybe it was flat, and they were going to step into the abyss and never return.
“Look ahead, Master. I see mountains,” Max said, waking John from his morbid thoughts.
John looked ahead and could see the faint outline of something on the horizon. He trusted Max’s superior eyesight, and as they drew closer, John could see the Tar Sea held at bay by giant red rock cliffs that tapered off into a desert. John and Max picked up the pace for the final sprint, ignoring their bodies’ cries and aches, as they would soon be able to rest far away from the Tar Sea.
Chapter 3
Together, Max and John walked as far away from the Tar Sea as they could bear before they both collapsed in the sand and fell asleep. It was a cool night in the desert so close to the Tar Sea, but as soon as the sun rose above the horizon, John could feel the heat starting to seep into his clothes and skin. It would be unbearable to stay out in a few hours. Worse, his clothes were made for a temperate, even chilly environment. The mostly black uniform would kill him if they had to walk for long in the desert. The sand sucked your feet in, making every footstep a chore. Trying to march through the desert after facing the Tar Sea would be impossible if you were a normal person; however, John had his God Step allowing him to overcome the worst of it.
It only took a few seconds when they had ascended high enough into the air to see what was referred to as the Capital. From the air, it looked like a pile of rubble, but when John got closer, he saw the truth of it. The outside was a massive rock that had been carved into the shape of a demon’s skeleton. The entrance was a giant mouth with teeth that were 6 to 8 feet in height. It had two long horns that stretched back over what looked like a spine before disappearing into the ground. Parts of the horns were broken off, teeth had fallen from the roof, and most of the details had been eroded by years of blowing sand.
“This is it?” John asked incredulously. “A cliché dungeon that looks like it hasn’t seen a janitor, let alone a repairman, in the last few hundred years. This is what I’ve been waiting for?” John said.
He looked over at Max, who was doing her best to hide her fear, but John could see her looking over the giant sculpture with trepidation.
“If you’d like you can stay out here, while I go in,” John said.
“No, I follow you. I’ve just never seen anything like this.”
“Yeah, well, whoever made it hasn’t paid the light bill in ages, so watch your step,” John said, walking into the giant stone maw. Immediately, he was assaulted by notifications.
Warning: Entering the Demon King’s Dungeon.
Effects: 20% penalty on health 10% penalty on all other stats. All skills disabled.
Name: John
Level: 101
Skills Disabled: Observer, Analyze, Deceiver, Thief’s Blessing, True Hunter, Throw voice…
Class: Human/Hero
Health: 8,800
Mana: 19,800
John stumbled for a moment in the dungeon and looked back at Max.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“You don’t feel weird or anything after coming into this place?” John asked.
“No, I saw you stumble, but I didn’t trip on anything.”
“Must not be important then,” John said. He was going forward, regardless of what the dungeon threw in his way, and it was probably best not to worry Max over nothing.
John cast a light spell, producing a hovering orb that followed them, illuminating the dungeon. It was in as much disrepair as John had thought. The dust filled the air and his nostrils as John sneezed over and over as he got accustomed to breathing through his mouth. They walked through the rooms and long corridors. John felt unease as he remembered the traps that had shaved down his health bar in the dungeon games he played. The mimic chests that lured you into opening them, only to bite off your head, the sharp arrows that spun through the air if you took a wrong turn and implanted themselves in every orifice, and the long hallway with the tiled floor that fell away and would drop you into poison laden spikes if you didn’t run fast enough. However, as they walked, the traps had already rotted; the fall away floor had already fallen and wasn’t even a challenge as John used his God Step magic to cross it. Other traps had giant axes, spiked balls, and guillotines that had been set off long ago and were well rusted by the damp stagnated air that grew thicker the lower they went until a thin fog lined the floor they walked, moving in spiral patterns where their legs displaced it. On the rare cases when John did step on a part of the stone pathway that had an untriggered trap, the mechanics in the wall ended up whirling and breaking, leaving John to wonder what had been intended.
Some of the areas they passed looked more used than others, like they had been lived in. Piles of boards and traps had b
een used for makeshift beds. John walked over and found piles of scat in the corner that were a dried white. John kept a watchful eye on his radar. It never gave a hint of anything that meant them harm, but he couldn’t stop hearing the skittering sounds of tiny legs clicking against the stone walls. Max also kept turning sharply as they walked, growling at noises John couldn’t hear.
John kept following his waypoint, getting closer to the heart of the dungeon. They reached a long hallway that had nothing in it. Instead, it snaked and coiled, leading them to a large entryway, where blue light filtered through. When they crossed its threshold, they could see an enormous cavern that held a giant stone maze, and at the other end stood, what looked like to John, a stone mansion. The entire area reminded him of the Rahka’s home as a blue hue lit up the entire maze. Looking up, John could see a large crystal that took up the entire ceiling.
“Hey Max, do you know what that is?” he asked and turned to see Max staring in wide-eyed wonder.
“It is a Mana stone. I have never seen one this large before. I never would have believed this size of one was possible. My ancestors told stories, and that’s all I believed they were, stories from the old, lacking any substance, trying to bribe the younglings with their delusions, but here it is. They talked about a mana stone, one that was crafted to be so large it could be used to destroy entire countries or used to change the shape of the world,” she trailed off.
“If this thing is so powerful, why is this place so run down? Something’s not right. If it were me, and I had access to this thing, I would have wiped both of us off the face of the planet after taking one step into the Tar Sea.”
“Maybe it’s been depleted,” Max said.
“I’m really not liking this,” John said, feeling like he was walking further and further into the spider’s den.
“We could leave,” Max offered.
“Not an option. We crossed the Tar Sea, and I am going to get some answers, regardless of how powerful the person I have to beat them out of is. Our destination is the mansion. Let’s go,” John said, walking off the platform and using his God Step to cross the threshold.
The side of the platform they had stood on held a broken-down staircase that was intended for people to navigate the short maze. However, as soon as John took a few steps forward, the air around them warped, and the cavern grew more massive.
“What just happened?” Max asked.
“I think the maze has some kind of ocular illusion to make it seem smaller than it is while you’re on the platform. When you descended the stairs, you wouldn’t have been aware of it.”
“What would be the point?”
“Confuse your enemy. Whoever built this place really did not want visitors,” John said.
Why? You have the power to erase everything. Why settle for parlor tricks? John wondered to himself.
The two of them reached the end of the maze and set their feet down in front of the mansion that stood before them. It was the size of a large school and carved into the stone like everything else in the area. Spiderwebs covered the only entrance into the mansion, and John tried to rip them away with his hands. He jumped back as a third of his mana was sucked out of his hands and fled along the threads until it disappeared into the walls.
“What the hell is this? It just sucks away mana if you touch it. Well, more than one way to skin a cat,” John said, drawing a sword and hacking at the webbing, clearing a path for himself.
“What’s a cat?” Max asked.
“Don’t worry about,” John said, moving past the mana eating spiderwebs.
They walked in and were amazed to find the inner furnishings held a regal quality to them. Everything was covered in dust and spiderwebs. The marble flooring, with its faded red carpet, would have been fit for royalty to walk on, as well as the tapestries that hung on the walls. The light was too faded to see all the details, but when John walked by, he could see the intricate artwork that was displayed on each one as they depicted fierce battles and peaceful scenery.
The room they entered held doors closed tight on the bottom floor. In the middle was a large staircase that led to a second floor, where two wooden doors stood open. A blue light was shining from deep within the room.
“Looks like someone left the lights on for us. Let’s not keep them waiting,” John said, drawing a sword from his inventory.
Max pulled out two daggers, getting ready as they walked into the next room. The light was almost blinding at first, but when their eyes adjusted, John could see they were in some kind of grand throne room. There was a balcony that ran around the room, with carved stone railings that emulated different types of plants and fauna. The red carpet they had been following led to a set of stairs carved from stone that rose to a King’s Throne. The Throne was level with the second-floor balcony, allowing anyone in it to look down on those who entered the room, and a figure clad in heavy armor that seemed to be made of shadow sat upon the throne looking at John and Max.
He rose from his seat and stood on the top step. He raised a finger at the pair before bellowing in a voice that seemed to shake the dust and cobwebs loose throughout the entire room.
“Who dares enter the Demon King’s Realm!”
With those words, John launched himself forward at the Demon King. He pointed his sword and shot at the Demon King like a spear, ready to get in the first strike. He wasn’t going to wait for another thing in this world to try to kill him. If he could get the Demon King on the defensive right away, he might be able to chip away at his health while giving Max a chance to stab the Demon King in the back.
The Demon King made no motions to stop John and simply stood there, while John’s sword went through the tiny slit in the Demon King’s helmet and pierced nothing. Instead John flew through the Demon King and his sword stuck a foot into the stone throne behind. John tried to pull the sword out of the stone, but it had wedged itself, he stopped as he heard the oddest thing. Laughter. Not the haughty laugh of someone who has bested their foe, but the laughter of a child as they just watched their teacher try to sit in a chair and miss.
John looked up to see the Demon King pointing at John and holding his side. Max stood back confused at what was happening and waited for John’s orders.
“Oh god, you, your face was great,” The Demon King tried to speak through fits of laughter.
“I’m the Demon King,” he said waiving his hands in the air in a mocking lowered voice.
“That was seriously your plan? Rush the boss. Yeah, like that hasn’t been tried. Oh god, you’re so pathetic. How you killed Lilzziat, I’ll never know, but you’re here now, so I suppose there must be something good about you.”
John stared at the Demon King, dumbfounded, as the large shadowy persona melted away and a man in jeans and a black shirt stood before him. He looked incredibly average, like the person you’ve seen a hundred times getting gas in line in front of you or just someone who passed you in a hallway.
“Who the hell are you?” John asked, dismissing his sword that had been stuck into the throne and drawing out a new one.
“Oh right, this is the first time we’ve really talked face to face. I mean we’ve talked, but more of me telling you you’re a dumbass in the notes field. My name’s Thomas… Well, that’s not true. I’m more of Thomas’s ghost or, if you want, a construct created by Thomas with his conscious stored inside of it. Of course, it’s been so long, and I’ve been so bored I’ve made a few tweaks here and there, so really, I’m no longer Thomas, not that in any sense I was him to begin with. He wanted me to be him, kind of like your tutorial in what’s expected of you now that you’ve been given a second chance and have been granted all this cool power. But you took a really long time to get here, and of course, there was all the things that went wrong, like Lilzziat taking in the power of the dark forest, corrupting her heart, and striving for power. Still, I am sorry to see her dead. She was so nice to me, I mean to Thomas.”
“I need you to take a breath and sto
p,” John interrupted.
“Oh, I don’t breathe. Didn’t you hear? I’m a construct.”
John held up his hands. “Nothing you are saying makes any sense. Please start from the beginning and go slow.”
“I keep getting told that I’m hard to understand. It’s a side effect of having a thousand years’ worth of information at your disposal. I’ll try harder to keep my ramblings in check. I know, I’ll bring you to the library. Thomas left a diary for you, well not for you, but you’ll see.”
“Master!” A buzzing voice called out from the shadows of the second-floor balcony. “He is not worthy to read from the Lord’s tome.”
“He has crossed the Tar Sea, Xyla. A feat you or I have never attempted. I believe that makes him worthy to read a ratty old book. It’s his leadership I question,” a deep and calm voice said from the balcony.
John couldn’t see anything in the faint light and wished his analyze skill worked as he felt like a different kind of trap was starting to close around him.
“Zyn, Xyla, is Quway with you?” the construct called Thomas asked.
“No,” the two voices said almost in unison.
“Yes,” a third voice said.
“Good, stay close. Now follow me,” the construct called Thomas said, waving at John and Max to follow him.
“Do we fight?” Max whispered to John.
“Not yet, let’s see what he wants,” John said.
They exited the throne room and walked down the stairs to one of the many doors that were in the hall. Thomas’s construct appeared to pick one at random. He tried the handle, and it remained locked. Looking almost embarrassed, he knocked on the door with four knuckles, then slapped it with all five fingers and knocked again with one knuckle.
So, he can be made solid, John thought to himself.
The door unlocked, and Thomas’s construct walked through the door, leading into a large library. Bookshelves lined the two-story walls with no discernable way to reach the upper shelves. In the center of the room was a large mahogany desk. The only thing sitting on the desk was an old leather-bound journal. Thomas’s construct stopped by the desk and pulled out the chair.