by Erik Colombe
“You’ve gone insane. If we flee, we survive. If we fight with him, he’ll betray us without a moment’s hesitation,” Xyla said.
“I don’t need your permission. I’m going to fight. It’s fine that you don’t trust me. Let’s take this out for a test run first. I just need a few things from the dungeon,” John said before turning to Max. “I’ll need your help again, but only if you’re willing.”
“I am my master’s servant. I will not hesitate to throw my lot in with you,” she said with a hint of a smile on her face.
“Glad to hear. I’ll meet you all outside, if you aren’t too scared, that is,” John said, walking out the door.
Chapter 6
The three generals waited outside next to Tom, watching as one of the undead collective slowly lurched his way closer to the entrance to the dungeon.
“He’s nowhere to be found. He obviously left while we weren’t watching. We need to hurry and prepare to leave,” Xyla said.
“You can go anytime you want. I tossed my lot in with the new Lord, and I’ll either be rewarded by believing in him or die here as punishment,” Zyn said with his arms crossed, watching and waiting.
“I have been commanded to stay, and I cannot leave until he has shown himself to be the new lord,” Quway said.
“He’ll come,” Tom said, but his fidgeting hands did not convey that he believed his own words.
“It’s getting closer, and there are more coming. We might be able to fight it back to the Tar Sea, but there are more than just one of those giant monstrosities. Can we at least move back?” Xyla asked.
“No,” the other three replied.
Xyla crossed her arms, and her red eyes narrowed as she waited.
The undead collective took one more lurch forward, putting it within a hundred feet of the entrance of the dungeon. A large explosion caught everyone’s attention as sand flew upwards. John and Max jumped out of the hole towards the Undead Collective.
“What is he doing? He’s completely exposed the Mana Crystal. It’s going to draw the Undead Collective like flies to honey,” Xyla said.
“Yes! He’s bringing the enemy to him. Saves all that energy needed to hunt them down,” Zyn said.
“If he can kill it. Is that my clan’s webbing he’s pulling from the dungeon?” Quway asked.
John plunged into the heart of the Undead Collective, while Max landed at its feet.
“Did he just commit suicide? Why would-” Quway’s words were interrupted by thousands of Undead screaming at the same time.
Max howled in pain as the mana around her swelled, and she was lifted into the air. The mana seemed to seep out of her like a faucet until it gradually condensed and solidified into the image of a bipedal wolf. Max opened her eyes as the pain subsided and thrust a fist made of solid mana into the middle of the creature. The sound of bones being broken was audible, even to the generals. She withdrew her fist holding John, who clung to one large claw. He shook off some of the bones that clung to him and stood next to Max in the middle of her Animal Ancestor magic. The generals could see shouting orders and pointing at the Undead Collective. The giant construct followed the directions he gave.
The large mana construct placed a foot on the Undead Collective as it struggled and writhed on the ground like it was constantly being shocked. Max continually punched the creature on the ground, and it appeared to shrink against each blow as pulses of purple light moved along Quway’s webbing attached to the mana crystal.
“He’s draining the Undead Collective of their Mana, using the dispersing properties of my clan’s webbing,” Quway said.
“It’s working. The Mana Crystal is being refilled, but it’s a far cry from full,” Tom said.
“What if we did this to all the Undead Collective inside the Tar Sea?” Zyn asked.
“No one’s ever catalogued the Tar Sea, and who knows how many of them there are inside of it,” Tom said.
“We estimated between 10 and 20 based on random searches we performed,” Quway said.
“When did you get that kind of information?” Xyla asked.
“We were once used as information gatherers for Thomas. We didn’t stop just because he was dead. While your ilk continues to fight and scrape to become the strongest, we have been learning about our prison.”
“Brother, our new Lord has come, don’t you agree?” Zyn asked, putting a hand on Quway’s shoulder. Quway’s body tensed as he tried to move away.
“Yes, my clan would be in agreement. He has fulfilled the minimum of what we would expect Thomas’s replacement to be capable of.”
“We’re no longer the survivors of our fallen Lord but the new beginning of John’s rule. We must put aside our squabbles and work together like our ancestors did for Thomas when he reigned. We need to help drain the Tar Sea of its ancient devils and fill the mana crystal,” Zyn said.
“What do you propose?” Quway asked, skeptical.
“We work with our new Lord and lure the Undead Collective here and drain them for every piece of mana they have.”
“We know what will draw them, but how do you expect to go so far out into the Tar Sea to spread the bait?” Quway asked.
“I will bring out my soldiers. The heartiest among them can fly almost the entire length of the Tar Sea,” Xyla said.
“You had the ability to leave the Tar Sea?” Quway asked, his voice cold.
“Oh please, as if your little secrets are any less of a crime. My kind has been breeding the strongest. Not for internal squabbling, but to cross the Tar Sea. We’ve been doing it for generations in case we needed to leave this desert, but with no places to rest, the Tar Sea has proven to be formidable. Make no mistake, I am only helping because this human has proven to be capable. If nothing else, he will be able to help us bring back prosperity to this land. I grow tired of watching other species die in this man-made desert,” Xyla said.
Both Zyn and Quway nodded as they departed, leaving Tom alone as he watched John and Max literally beat the Tar out of the Undead Collective.
Chapter 7
John watched as the Undead Collective withered and faded before him until there was only a pile of sludge and bones left in the desert sand. Max had expended her Ancestral Animal magic and kneeled in front of John panting in the sand.
“That’s one down, but more are coming. Max are you alright? Can you keep going?” John asked, concerned.
Max stood, trying to hide her shaky balance.
“I can keep going for however long you need me. You needn’t concern yourself with my health. I can do this until I die,” she said with conviction.
“Idiot,” John yelled. “I need you alive. I can’t do this myself. If you need to stop, tell me. We need endurance, not blind bravery.”
“The contract between us grants me a surge of power when you absorb all of that mana, but when it’s done, it takes a toll on my body. I just need a quick rest, and I’ll be able to fight again.”
“Then we need to stall. There are so many coming. I don’t understand why so many are coming so quickly. I thought we would have more time,” John said.
Three puffs of sand appeared next to where Max knelt. It was the generals, all of them kneeling to John.
“My Lord, we have completed preparations based on what you’ve shown us,” Quway said.
“It’s Lord now, is it?” John asked.
“We were wrong to have doubted you. You have proven your right to take over where Thomas left,” Xyla said.
“Good to hear, and I’m not too proud to say I could use your help. What preparations have you done?” John asked.
“I have taken the webbing and made a trap for the Undead Collective. Xyla has spread the bait to the Undead Collective. All of them are coming,” Quway said.
“My soldiers are pushing the Undead Collective with the help of Xyla’s servants into the trap. We can finish them all in one push,” Zyn said.
“Max?” John asked.
“I’m rested,” she s
aid, her voice steady.
“Lead the way,” John said to Quway.
All of them sprinted off towards the trap. Zyn appeared to skate across the sand, Quway buried himself under the sand and seemed to swim through it, while Xyla sprouted insectoid wings and flew above them. John and Max used his God Step magic to clear the desert where John could see Demi-Humans in the same armor that Zyn wore, poking at the undead collective, while others with the same wings as Xyla flew around them with thread in their hands. They rose high in the air and then dove down into the Undead Collective’s sludge body, coming out clean on the other side without the thread. The creatures fell one by one as screams came from out of different skeleton mouths.
Random magic shot out of each of them as the mages thrashed and tried to break free from the collective, but skeleton hands would reach for them, trying to pull themselves out of the tar that surrounded them, creating an endless loop of entrapment. Not all the Undead Collective were so foolish, and they fought back at the warriors that surrounded them, threatening to break away.
John dropped from the air and scrambled through the sand to grab one of the threads that was attached to one of the Undead Collective and held on tight. The random magic seemed to hone in on him, and he was accosted by fire, ice, and lightning as it swirled towards him. He fired back, his mana infused by stolen energy. He raised his hand, spewing forth a torrent of fire that swept away all the magic that had come near him. His vision was blurry, while his hands struggled to hold onto the webbing. It felt like a line of coarse rope that bit into his hand. He saw the large Animal Ancestor magic Max was imbued with start to beat at the creature that was firing at him, and the random magic turned to the newest threat.
“Bad move,” John said, and he pushed pure mana from his right hand into the thread, expelling it faster than it could regenerate towards the mana crystal. He encircled the thread with his left hand, creating a strong grip on it, and fed on the mana, making himself a conduit that drew the mana from the creatures even faster. It took only seconds this time for the creature to become deflated. Max picked up the powerless Undead Collective in one mana hand and crushed it before moving to the next Undead and wrestling it to the ground, into one of the traps connected to the thread John held. It was like a large spiderweb hidden under the desert sand, and its edges sprung up on the Undead collective, pinning it the ground where John drained it for everything it held. Blood started to seep from his hands as the webbing bit into it. More of the webbing was being connected ahead of John by Quway’s tribe. His heart started to race from the influx of magical energy that flowed through his body like electricity. His muscles tensed and spasmed, but he refused to let go of the mana infused webbing. His vision became tunneled, and he couldn’t focus on anything but drawing the energy and releasing it. He didn’t know when, but he had collapsed to his knees and could hear screaming. He tried to look around for where it was coming from, but he couldn’t raise his head, and that’s when he realized he was the one screaming, but it felt far away. Even the pain was starting to feel far away, like he was a machine that didn’t need to do anything but hold on. He heard footsteps running towards him, along with a faint voice.
“John, you’re not alone anymore. You can ask for help,” the voice said, and John felt someone place their hands next to his on the webbing.
The screaming faded, and John’s eyes opened to Tom kneeling besides him. Tom was smiling, and John could see the mana being split between their hands.
“Look at what you’ve accomplished,” Tom said, nodding his head to the web trap. There was a handful of the Undead Collective inside the trap, but they were small, almost no threat, and the random attack magic they spewed only managed to make it a few feet before sputtering out.
“Where are the rest?” John asked weakly.
“That’s it, John. You’ve won. Now, let go,” Tom said, and he helped pull John’s hands from the webbing.
John could hear a cheering erupting from everywhere around him before his hands sunk into the sand.
“Rest now, John. Everything is under control. Rest well, and there will be more to do later,” Tom said, holding John up.
Chapter 8
John woke up in a large bed chamber, where the room was covered in sheets and pillows. The walls were lined with different paintings depicting different Demi-Humans living in their native environments. John recognized the mountain of the Rahkas. The painting showed them dancing underneath a large blue crystal as the orange hue of a large bonfire lit up their faces showing them smiling and laughing in their homes.
Max opened one of the doors in the room and stepped in.
“I heard you moving and thought you might be up. They’re waiting for you in the throne room when you’re ready,” she said.
“Ready for what?”
“I don’t know, but they seemed excited,” she said.
“Best not keep them waiting,” John said, walking sluggishly behind Max as she led the way from the bedroom to the throne room, where the generals and Tom waited patiently on the second-floor balcony. The throne was empty this time.
John raised his hands at the waiting audience.
“Well?”
“Take a seat, John,” Tom said.
“John looked around, but there were no other chairs, except for the throne.”
“Whatever,” John said and climbed the stairs to the throne.
He took several steps up the stairs when Zyn jumped down and landed on the step in front of him, drawing the two swords at his sides. John gripped the hilt of his sword on his side but did not draw it. Zyn smiled and bowed before taking a knee on the side of the stair, allowing John to continue. A few more steps and Xyla flew on insectoid wings down in front of John. She showed a single rapier that dripped with a purple liquid that John could only assume was poison before she stepped aside for John to pass. John walked to the last step to see Quway standing at the top step. He held a rock in his hand, and when John looked closer, he could barely see the glint of tiny threads that were wrapped around it, each end tied around the fingers of both hands. He spread his hands apart slowly like it was a magic trick, and the rock fell to the floor in five neatly cut slices before stepping aside, allowing John to cross the last step to sit on the throne where Tom appeared next to John.
“What was that about?” John whispered to Tom.
“A form of fealty, the generals showed the weapons they would have used to kill you are now yours to command. It’s nice, isn’t it?” Tom said.
“Yeah, nice, that’s a word for it,” John said rolling his eyes. “I take it that means we got enough mana from the Undead Collective to fill the crystal.”
“No,” Tom said.
“What do you mean no?” John asked in amazement.
“We did not fill the crystal. When the crystal is completely filled, the mana in your possession would be enough to reshape an entire continent or destroy an army of thousands. It was the culmination of Thomas’s life.”
“Then why the celebration?” John asked.
“You have still made a huge achievement. The crystal is full enough to be able to repair the dungeon, bring back the rains, and the tar sea has been cleared of all the Undead, allowing the General’s hunting ground to be widened.”
“Wait, wait, wait, you want me to use the mana we collected to repair what Thomas had created.”
“Of course,” Tom said.
“Let’s say that I did it. How long would the mana crystal be able to provide for the land around here?”
Tom looked down at the floor like he was deep in thought.
“Based on my memory and the current collection that we have, it would last about fifty years. Plenty of time for you to infuse your own mana into it to allow for it to carry on indefinably, as well as find alternate sources.”
John gripped one of the stone armrests a little tighter.
“I am not a battery, and I am not a replacement for Thomas. I do things my own way.”
&
nbsp; “But,” Tom stammered.
“We have already promised fealty,” Zyn said. “You are the new lord, and as such, your decisions are beyond questioning.”
“Just don’t waste our sentiment,” Xyla said, and John nodded
“Tom, show me how to work the Dungeon core,” John said.
Tom stammered a few times like he wanted to argue but gave up after the failed attempts.
“The chair is the controller for the dungeon core. Simply poor some mana into it, and the process will start.”
“You sure this won’t just blow up? I mean when was the last time it was used?” John asked.
“Don’t worry. These were made with meticulous attention to detail. They will work,” Tom said.
John pushed some mana into the chair and saw blue lines like cracks start to run through it and felt the whole thing start to vibrate. He was about to jump off the thing when it started to rise in the air.
“Hold on tight,” Tom said as he looked straight up at the dungeon’s roof.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” John yelled as the throne started to speed up. A hole in the roof opened, and the throne and part of the base flew up, leaving Max and the generals behind.
The throne stopped so high in the sky John could see the curvature of the planet. In front of him were miles and miles of desert that led to a distant ocean. To his right, he could see a mountain range that eventually led to an arctic desert. He turned his head and the throne turned with him. He tried his hardest not to look down as he had never been this high in the air before. When the chair stopped, he was looking at the Tar Sea and the miles that it encompassed.
“Ok, we have something to work with,” John said.
“I still don’t understand what your plan is. Thomas had to bring in the rains almost every other week to have this desolate place stay afloat, among a hundred other little details that he carefully worked out over the course of years of his life,” Tom said.
“You know, Thomas sounds like he worked really hard to make sure everyone was happy. Sounds like he spent nights without sleep trying to ensure those under his care were taken care of,” John said.