by Dakota Krout
“Sounds like a really fun guy to have at a party,” Hans quipped, attempting to lighten the mood.
“He is very highly respected,” Adam tried to explain defensively. “He is the role model for a huge amount of clerics, myself included.”
“And yet… you run from him in terror,” Tom softly added his thoughts to the conversation.
Adam glanced at Hans. “Not all of us were as good in the past as we are now. If we have sin in our souls, it is visible during a ‘trial’.” Adam’s words made Dale think about the man he had seen with no black on or in him. Did that mean the man was a total innocent?
They stopped their conversation as they approached a group of undead trying to break into Tyler’s shop. Just as the heavy door cracked from the repeated blows falling upon it, the zombies at the rear were assaulted by the adventurers. Tom was using his ingot hammer, and each swing against an unprotected head allowed grey matter to slosh to the ground. Rose pulled out an arrow and aimed far beyond the zombies, activating the enchantment and allowing her first arrow to pierce through a half-dozen heads as it flew along its path. Dale and Hans’ arms turned to blurs as they attacked furiously, one with glinting daggers and the other with metal-capped knuckles.
The low-ranked zombies stood no chance against this group, and as reinforcements came around the corner, Hans glanced at Tom and nodded. Tom half spun, planted his feet firmly, and blew air over his outstretched hand. As he did so, his technique took hold and a gout of flame launched into the undead. The sustained flame made even the most robust amongst them fall to the ground, too charred to continue moving.
“Good form.” Hans nodded as Tom dropped to a knee, exhausted from using so much Essence at once. “It was a little wasteful, but it is designed to be that way. Keep it up, make sure to refine your Essence more carefully, and I’ll get you a better technique when you are ready for it.”
“Purposely wasteful?” Adam looked at them oddly. “Why would you do that?”
“Well, he had too much corruption in him. He needed to reduce it. Ergo, he uses a wasteful ability so that he can shed some corruption.” Hans chanced a glance at Adam. “Father Richard hasn’t told you about this? With your abundance of corruption, I thought he would…”
“He offered to help, but I thought he meant in a more… direct way,” Adam mused with interest. “I thought it would mean me swallowing a Core, and I decided that I’d be fine without. Hmm.”
“Talk to people!” Hans admonished him sternly. “Just because you can do freaky stuff with your eyes doesn’t mean you should stop taking advice.” He knocked on the damaged door. “Tyler! Let’s go! Your chaperone has arrived, no more hoarding all the beautiful women for yourself!”
“Hans!” a muffled voice came through the damaged wood. “You came back for us?”
“We did, yeah. Hurry up! There are Mages going nuts out here.” Hans spoke in a conversational tone, ignoring the gravity of the situation completely.
“I have dozens of people!” Tyler spoke as he tried to pull open the battered door. Its hinges were twisted enough that Tom had to break it down fully. “Do you have a shelter we can all fit in?”
“I do,” Dale said as people began streaming out. “We need to hurry. Is there anyone who can’t run?”
“I’m a bit out of shape, but I think that in these circumstances I can be convinced.” Tyler released a half-hearted chuckle. “These are all non-combatants. Non-cultivators. You okay with helping us out?”
“Yes, let’s go,” Dale ordered as they began jogging toward the church. “You sure you have everyone?”
“Absolutely certain,” Tyler stated after a quick head count. They made their way to safety, but the people near the rear began to scream as they saw the abominations moving their way. The shrill sounds in turn drew more undead to them, forcing Dale and his team to hold a defensive line while the people piled through the portal. The undead began massing, and larger versions came sprinting.
“I do not think we can defend against this,” Tom announced firmly. “It has been an honor to fight with you all and stand by your sides.”
“For God’s sake man.” Hans grabbed Tom and threw him toward the portal. “Stop being so dramatic and get in the portal!” As the dead closed in on them, the living retreated into the portal and closed it behind them.
“Is everyone alright?” Dale called, looking around at the people huddled or crying nearby.
“Alright? Are you sure this isn’t heaven?” Tyler was looking around the area, mouth agape. He was hugging the Alchemist that worked for him; both seemed incredibly happy, given the circumstances. “We are alive, right?”
Dale looked around, and he found that he could understand their joy. This was a long main hall with dozens of smaller rooms set into the walls. One of the largest portions of the open area was a workbench suitable for alchemy, with tubes and vials filled and labeled. There was an area for every trade that the dungeon knew of. An apothecary lab, a smithy, leather tanning, weapons salles, archery ranges, Runecrafting areas, and what appeared to be an inn. Splashing water even signified a bathing area tucked away somewhere.
“I’m not sure what this is for, and I’m not sure why it exists,” Dale informed Tyler. “I’m certain there is more to this place than meets the eye.”
“Who cares?” Tyler was nearly crying with happiness. “Look at all of those ingredients!”
~ Chapter Twenty-Seven ~
I had recreated Bob, who was keeping me company and trying to help me remain calm. He was still on the third floor, but I linked his sight to mine so that he could see the same things I did. The necromancers were at the bottom of the stairs to the fifth floor, following the only path. I had made it as a spiral, so if they went at a normal walking speed they should be occupied for at least ten minutes. The reason for creating such a long walkway was embedded in the walls.
“It’s not worth it! Go! Please!”
“Turn back! No! Run!”
“Run away!”
“I am so tired. I am so tired all of the time…”
Bob seemed confused at my laughter. “What is saying those things? Are those… rocks?”
Bob watched for a bit longer. “So… are they supposed to scare people off?”
“They don’t seem bothered.” Bob had a point. The C-ranked necromancers were just plugging their ears. The Mage didn’t even bother doing that.
“Pff. Messed up some perfectly good rocks is what you did. Look at them! Have you ever seen rocks with anxiety before?” The Goblin demanded, eyelid twitching.
“Did you feel that?”
“What?”
“Something… shifted.”
“I feel heavy, what’s happening?”
The Mage snapped at them, “Silence! This is something different, something new.”
Screams broke the sudden silence as a sharp bone rammed through the back of a C-ranker, stabbing all the way through him to extend from his front. Blood and black ichor poured from the wound
while purple lines traced their way across the man’s body. The bone pulled from him with a wet *slurp* and vanished into a hole.
“Get up!”
“He’s dead! What happened?”
“Move!” The Mage pushed the others out of the way, then formulated and cast a summoning on the dead body. It started to move again, standing violently.
“Hmm. Body is filled with an unknown poison. Hole in chest. Repairing for most efficient usage,” the thing inhabiting the body stated. “Oh? Two summons in a day? Tisk-tisk. You’ve been a bad boy, Mr. Mage! Where is the other?”
“Banished,” the Mage explained shortly. “We are under attack by an unknown entity, find and kill it.”
“Why not? Nice to meet you, too.” The inhabited body started glowing, then coated itself in hellflame. The fire flashed across the entire room, burning away the mists and revealing my monster. The Dungeon Boss; my Manticore.
The Manticore had a head very similar to Snowball, fluffy and cat-like, though there were some obvious deviations from the norm. This creature had six eyes, three on each side of its face in a triangular pattern. It had teeth similar to a shark, jagged and multi-rowed. Wings extended from his back, heavy with scales and spikes. Runic patterns were traced on several of these scales, creating a disturbing hypnotic effect. A tail extended behind it and into the ground, on the end of it was a stinger laden with the most vicious poison I had been able to concoct from my acquisitions. His tail was uncannily flexible, and could extend and contract faster than a snake could strike. I was still working on a name for him, but being a nameless Manticore wouldn’t stop him from killing!
A hiss came from the massive Beast, drawing out and climbing to a full-throated roar. Stains spread down the leg of one of the remaining C-rankers, the aggressive Mage-rank aura causing him to revert to primal flight instincts. He turned to flee and was met by the sharp, hollow stinger of the Manticore. By the time he hit the floor, his soul had fled the mortal plane.
The Mage and demon sprinted at the Manticore, and it retracted its tail from the corpse, arching the scaled limb above his head like a scorpion. It crouched momentarily before springing to meet them. His scorpion tail lashed out but the armored arm of the Demon deflected it. In response, the Manticore swiped his paw–as large as the human body it was attacking–and tore off the Demon’s leg as it tried to vault over the meter-length claws. The Demon’s appendage turned black and rancid as poison began to rot away at it. Hopefully the Demon wouldn’t be able to fix its body again before it was completely destroyed. The Mage stabbed forward with the large dagger that had been unnecessary before now, but was blocked by an armored wing that stopped the blade like it wasn’t even moving.
The scale that had been hit glowed and fired from the wing like an arrow. The Mage dodged, and the scale embedded in the stone wall just before exploding and reducing a cubic foot of granite to rubble. The demon–down one leg–used this distraction to find a different way to move around. He completed an astounding series of cartwheels, bouncing off of the floor and walls before latching onto a giant paw. It dug its claws into the tree-thick scaly ankle and started releasing hellfire. A lance of flame went through the palm of the Boss and broiled all meat it passed through.
The Manticore roared in agony as it lifted its now-skeletal paw from the ground and limped on three feet. It kicked sharply, and the demon flew into the mist. With this respite the Manticore grabbed a chunk of meat and jumped into the air, flapping its wings a few times before twisting around and gripping the ceiling. It hung there like a bat, lashing out with its tail whenever his attackers got too close. Chewing the stained flesh from a human body the Boss’s damaged paw began to quickly recover; cells dividing and growing to cover the enormous foot. When it was mostly healed, the Manticore dropped from the roof, swirling in a murderous blur of claws, tail, and wings.
The demon sprinted to the back wall, which was an amusing sight as it had to use its hands to ‘walk’. It got to the stone barricade, turned to use its momentum, and jumped at the Manticore. The possessed corpse caught a wing as the great Beast dodged, causing the creature to stumble. The Mage took this opportunity to jump onto the Boss’s face, plunging a hand deep into an eye socket and releasing a continuous stream of necrotic Mana. The Manticore screamed in pain as its brain was assaulted. It rolled and thrashed heavily, trying to dislodge and kill the Mage causing it so much pain. My beautiful Beast was unable to do so and fell almost sullenly to the ground, dying slowly. It hacked up a key, which clattered to the ground with a ring of finality.
The Mage stood, smiling, and turned to look at the Demon. His smile fell from his face as his summoned creature was sucked away with a *pop*. I laughed silently, all of the spikes on the Manticore were designed to break off, and each of them had the demon banishing Rune etched onto them. The Mage started toward my Core room, taking only a few steps before gasping. He looked down, seeing the poison-dripping tip of a stinger protruding from his heart.
A low rumbling laugh came from the Manticore. Its lips moved, and a gravelly voice escaped. “Rage, fury, wrath, outrage, resentment, annoyance, vexation, displeasure… I’ll… eat them… all…” The words trailed off as the Manticore expired. His first words were a little odd, but as his brain had somewhat dissolved I’d let him try again when he was reborn. The Mage, already sweating as his body began to die, stumbled toward my Core room. He made it in, falling right before he got to the Silverwood tree and landing in a position that could be mistaken for worship.
A hand plunged into the area under the tree, grasping the Core it found there and yanking it into the light. The last C-ranked member of the group smiled, looking first at the shining Core, then at the dead Mage. He couldn’t seem to resist insulting his fallen leader. “You will make a perfect vessel for my next summon. Thank you for completing the mission and leaving all the glory to me!”
The necromancer laughed as he grabbed the Mage’s body, opened the portal with a keygem, and stepped out of the dungeon. He sent a flare of light into the air, and sprinted toward the exit from the mountain.
~ Chapter Twenty-Eight ~
Frank was battered and bruised; his left eye was swollen shut, and he was leaking blood from many minor wounds. He shouted at a mountain of flesh that was rolling toward him and removed its kinetic energy, stopping it in place. Frank focused on blocking the motion of the abomination at a deeper level, and the flesh froze solid as the atoms were disallowed movement, the electrons freezing in place. His focus broke with a painful backlash; he could only maintain that state for a few seconds at a time against a creature summoned by an A-ranked being. Luckily, the abomination was only a B-ranked creature, and Frank’s ability was enough to get the job done. The abomination toppled, shattering on the ground. The frozen flesh joined the other ice and snow on the ground, simply becoming sanguine scenery.
A shout rang out as a flare rose into the air, and the undead repositioned themselves. “They are blocking the way to the portal!” Acrimony filled High Magous Amber’s words. “This filth thinks that they are going to mess with my portal settings? Stop them!”
Father Richard spearheaded the defenders formation, his blessings and rebukes to the undead opening a pathway to their goal. They surged forward but were now surrounded on all sides. As Frank turned to destroy a large zombie, a form tore its way out of an abomination and grabbed Father Richard by the neck.
“Stay where you are.” The voice was decidedly calm. “We have completed our mission, and we are finished with this area. If you attempt to resist further, I will have this area destroyed.”
Father Richard was choking, his ineffectual clawing at the hand holding him proving that this was the A-ranked summoner that had caused
all of the destruction in the area. He must have been a few ranks higher than Father Richard to be able to hold the cleric so casually. The undead had all stopped moving however, and the defenders were loath to restart combat while surrounded.
“Release him, and we can negotiate your surrender,” Amber imperiously ordered, knowing that her words would be ignored.
The Mage surprised them all. “I will let him go. I only wanted your attention. Attack me and they die.” He motioned and a large cluster of people was revealed. It was the delegations from multiple nations, all of the people here to discuss terms of trade and alliances. There were three Mages surrounding them, and black arcs of energy shaped like chains moved between them and kept the hostages from running.
“We will leave, and if you don’t attack me I swear my people and I will never return to this city.” The air shuddered as his oath was recognized by his Mana. He stepped away, and after a minute of slow backward walking, vanished through the portal. The towering abominations collapsed wetly to the earth, returning from undead to simply dead.
“He’s gone, now free them!” Richard ordered the Mages, who gave a sly grin in return.
“Nah. That wasn’t part of the bargain.” The cocky Mage started to chant, only to be cut off as an object obliterated his brain. The other two Mages died in a mere moment as well, to the great shock of the onlookers. Someone had just silently killed three Mages in less than a second. This fact was as terrifying to the exhausted onlookers as the entire night had been.