by Dakota Krout
“Come on, ya pissant little body-snatcher!” Frank growled at the unamused Mage. “Let’s see ya get in a hit!”
Frank bounded forward, greatsword flashing forward faster than an arrow. The A-ranker tried to swing at him, only to have Frank bark ‘Redirect!’ at him. The force behind the necromancer’s blow transferred to enhance Frank’s swing, and the dark Mage got to experience what being buried in the wall felt like.
The Mage made the wall around him crumble and sprinted forward. Frank planned his strike and roared, ‘Stop!’. The Mage was too powerful for Frank’s law to fully affect him, but he did stumble at an opportune moment. The greatsword came down, and the Mage had his head buried in the stone below him.
The red-faced necromancer pushed himself up and pointed at Frank. “Blight!” An orb of darkness appeared in his open hand, and the Mage slammed it into Frank’s chest. Blood shot out of Frank’s mouth, and he dropped to his knees. The people behind him could see directly through Frank’s chest. A hole the approximate size and shape of the necromancer’s hand had appeared, and darkness was spreading over the remainder of his body.
“Frank!” Dale screamed across the room. “No!”
“Frank, yes.” The Mage locked eyes with Dale as he mocked him. He stepped past the corpse at his feet and strode toward the encroaching army. “Time to deal with the rest of the rats.” He raised his hands and his head fell to the ground, a look of glee still etched on his face.
Brianna appeared next to the body, punting the head away. “That’s why we get paid the big coins for assassinations.”
Dale ran over to Frank, but his body was already crumbling away. Brianna caught Dale, keeping him from touching the blighted chunks remaining. “Careful! That might spread to you!”
“Frank…!” Dale cried out.
“Is already gone,” Brianna firmly stated. “Don’t let his sacrifice be in vain!”
~ Dale ~
Dale heard the dungeon cry out in anguish and leapt into motion without thinking through the full ramifications of his actions. He charged at the Mages that were entering the portal, grabbing an overly potent Core from his pocket as he did so. This Core was from the celestial type golem and was full of celestial-attuned Mana. Having no knowledge of celestial techniques, Dale simply tried to activate the earth-shattering technique while running celestial Essence through it.
As the string of celestial Essence left his hand–pointed at the Mages–he shattered the Core and infused all of the Mana into the attack. The Mana arched to the portal and impacted it, but the celestial power failed to cancel out the infernal type powering the portal as Dale had intended. Instead, the portal hummed and shifted colors. The light in it grew brighter, and it seemed to stabilize. The remaining power returned to Dale and was absorbed.
“Ha, hah!” There was only one Mage and four C-ranked necromancers remaining in front of the portal. “Thank you for stabilizing this, I thought we were going to be stuck here!”
They jumped through the portal, and the dead dropped to the ground, no longer animated by another's will. The vast chamber was quiet, except for the wails of the wounded. Of all the possible outcomes, no one had thought the enemy would run! The veterans of many battles groaned; this would mean potentially decades of hunting down pockets of necromantic filth. Then they remembered that the main forces they were against hadn’t even been here and whined louder.
“What… what’s happening?” He coughed again, then vomited as blood shot from his mouth.
“Dale!” Brianna gripped him, trying to steady the sick man. “What’s the matter? Why are you bleeding? Did you get wounded?”
Trying to understand the issue, Dale closed his eyes and attempted to look inside himself. He failed at his attempt. He tried to move Essence to his hands and again failed. Hands shaking, he looked up at Brianna. “Why can’t I feel my Essence?”
Brianna’s eyes glowed, and horror crossed her face. “Dale! Your affinity channels… they’re collapsing! You used Mana somehow, didn’t you? Your body is shutting down; some Mana got into your system, and your center can’t handle it. Your… Core? You have a Core? Never mind, it’s breaking!”
“So I’m dead no matter what I do?” Dale looked at Brianna with fear-filled eyes.
“No! We can get you to a cleric, we can-” Brianna lied as fast as she could open her mouth.
“I see.” Dale stood up, nodded at her, and shoved her backwards. Only because she was stunned by his actions did it affect her at all. The dungeon couldn’t help him, and Dale knew it wouldn’t help him if he lost his Wisp again. There was only one option. He turned and dove through the humming portal.
“After him!” Hans screamed in panic from across the room. Dale’s team and Madame Chandra ran, jumping through the portal after their leader. Brianna stood looking at the portal for a long moment.
“Oh, you fools,” she whispered in a heartbroken tone.
~ Chapter Forty-Two ~
Dale landed on the soft ground, grass tickling the sensitive skin on his face. He painfully forced himself to his feet, looking around. Blinking at the bright moonlight, Dale tried to discern where the necromancers could have gotten off to. The only sound was wind, but his glances revealed that he was on a mountain overlooking a shadowy forest. Had they escaped down past the tree line already?
Looking at where he had come from, a portal still hung empty in the air. Good. He could escape if he returned. Dale looked at the ground and finally got a hint as to where the others had gone. There were footprints in the dirt, and the grass had been bent in a specific manner that only happens when someone barges through it without knowing how to cover their tracks. Dale laughed even as blood dribbled down his chin. His training to be a Baron was all pointless now. All the math in the world couldn’t help him; his knowledge of state dinners and dancing were pointless. His years as a sheepherder though, the tracking skills he had used to find lost lambs and avoid dangers, those would let him pursue his quarry.
He started trotting along the trail, confused at the signs he was finding. The trail was fairly obvious but looked at least a couple hours old. Dale worried that he may be following the wrong group, but what else could he do? He sped up, trying to think of how he would take Dani back from a freaking Mage as he was dying. As the predawn light began to brighten, Dale looked around and shivered. It was way too beautiful of a day for this. He felt like it should be raining, possibly snowing. That would have fit the mood much better.
Dale slowed as voices echoed down to him. “It’s been hours! If they were going to come after us, they would have long ago!”
It seemed the necromancers were fighting amongst themselves. Perfect. Dale sunk to his knees and crawled as quietly as he could through the long grass. He left the path behind, trying to come upon the group at an angle they weren't expecting.
“At least let me try to contact The Master!” Dale could see a dark form silhouetted against the sky. “He may be able to open another portal to us or at least give us instructions!”
“No!” This command had hints of Mana in it and made Dale shiver in fear. “We… hee-hee, we have our orders!” The Mage seemed to be in a good mood and was maliciously grinning. “If we escape to somewhere safe, we re-plant the dungeon and take care of it!”
“It’s basically powerless at this point, though! It had to sacrifice all of its power when we removed it from the dungeon! It’ll be back in the D-rankings, at best!”
“So we get more offerings to power it up!” Spittle flew from the Mage’s mouth, making the man arguing with him wipe his face. “We have a dungeon, which we now control! Let’s make the best of it!”
>
While they obviously didn’t fully agree, the others slowly moved to comply with the powerful person. Dale waited patiently as they gathered large, flat stones. After making an altar similar to what had been in the sewers–if a bit rough–they placed the dungeon Core on the rocks and poured a bit of their blood on it. Dale saw Dani attempt to avoid the rough men, flying in painfully slow circles to try and stay out of their way.
“Poor thing,” Dale thought sadly, watching the Wisp. Dale started feeling even weaker, like his Core was leaking Essence. If he didn’t move soon, he wouldn’t be able to. The Mage was the biggest threat, but if they would just be distracted for a moment, he would be able to do something. Dale’s eyes bulged. He tried to cover his mouth, but he couldn’t stop the chest-wracking cough as blood sprayed from his lips.
A rough hand grabbed Dale, lifting him into the air. “And what do we have here?”
“What is it?” the frantic Mage called nervously. “Did they find us?”
“Looks like we have a visitor!” The rank breath of his captor made Dale gag. He tried to swat at the man, but he was barely able to move his arms fast enough to hit the man. Obviously, the attack was ineffectual. “Ha, looks like we caught a fishy!”
“Perfect!” the Mage shrieked, coming toward them with long strides. “Bring him to the altar! He will help us wake the dungeon up!”
Struggling as hard as he could was ineffective; Dale may as well have been a child. The Mage was soon looming above him, smiling happily. “You won’t understand this, but you are about to help us save the world!”
Dale screamed as the knife the man was holding came down, aimed for his heart. The knife impacted his chest, and Dale felt several ribs break from the force of the stab. The Mage’s grin faltered. “Why aren’t you dead?” The knife came again. Dale screamed again as more bones broke. “How odd! What tough skin you have!”
“Is his armor stopping the knife?” A C-ranked necromancer looked at the Mage askance.
“Of course it is! Don’t question my strength or you will be able to gauge it firsthand!” The Mage looked malevolently at Dale. “I don’t know who you are or how you got armor capable of stopping a blow from a Mage, but it doesn’t matter! Strip him!” The cultivators grabbed Dale, roughly pulling off all of his armor. No matter how they tried though, they could not figure out how to remove his battle gauntlets.
“Forget it! We will take them off his carcass!” The Mage shoved aside one of the men and stabbed Dale in the leg. This time, the blade went through easily. Dale could barely manage a scream; the pain was too mind breaking. “There we go! That’s more like it! Lay him on the altar!”
Dale was pressed down on the stone, looking right up at the glowing form of Dani. He smiled at her and whispered, “Dani. Run away fast, Dani. Tell Cal I kept my promise.” Dani stilled, looking down tiredly at the man below her. She didn’t understand what she was seeing as the knife rose into the air.
“...Dale?” the Wisp managed to ask.
As the knife came down to sacrifice him, Dale gripped the infernal Core by his side. No longer able to use Dale as a power source, the gauntlet wrapped itself around the gifted Core and squeezed. *Bamph* The Core shattered with a soundless scream of agony, and the Essence that managed to escape the wrapped folds burned through Dale’s skin.
The knife stopped falling, and the Mage listened to the shards of the broken Core *ping* off the stone altar. “No! No, no, no!” he shrieked at Dale’s almost-still form. Realizing his mistake, he swiftly looked around for the Wisp, only to see it flying away at unmatchable speeds, refreshed by an influx of Essence. “No!”
He stabbed Dale, over and over again. “No! You filthy thief! You’ve killed us all! You… you thief!” He was screaming now and continuing to stab the dying body on the altar. Seeing Dale dying too swiftly, he cursed and infused him with infernal Mana. Now Dale was temporarily trapped in his body and aware of his surroundings. The Mage kept stabbing, until instead of a *squish* he heard a *clink*. The sound was enough to break him out of his impotent rage, and he swiftly cut Dale’s chest open.
“A Core? A Core! You had a Core in you? And it is already attuned to you?” The Mage began laughing as he looked at the gem in his hand. “Looks a bit damaged, but I can fix that…” He muttered a few words, and the Core, which was about to fall apart, was coated by a thin layer of Mana. The Essence that had been escaping instead returned and infused into the Core and made minor repairs to the interior. Now there were no cracks on the outside, though the inside was still heavily damaged.
“Good, good,“ the Mage muttered. He looked at Dale’s body which was beginning to cool as Dale’s soul struggled to flee. The dark Mage laughed breathlessly as he saw the pain the soul was in.
“Oh no, you don’t!” The nasal, phlegmy voice of the Necromancer shattered the silence. He loomed over the broken, tortured body Dale was fleeing. “Dying won’t let you off the hook! Hee hee hee! Stealing from me was the worst decision you ever made! Now you will serve me, beg me…” he screamed, spittle flying. His mood shifted abruptly, as madmen’s are prone to do. “…to free you, because of your own stupidity! Ha-ha-ha!” A smile was back on his face, though his eyes were manic and unfocused.
With his declaration and an arcane gesture, pain shattered Dale’s confused senses–pain more traumatizing than his recent death by repeated stabbing. “Welcome to your eternity, thief.” The malicious voice spit at the Core in his hand. Then he coughed at the Core, spitting again. Wait… spit isn’t red?
~ Tom ~
Tom landed flat on his face and had the wind knocked out of him by the others landing on his back. They all got up at various speeds until, finally, Tom was able to wheeze in a breath. “Dale! Where are you?” Tom bellowed, only to get whacked on the head by Chandra.
“Stop that!” she ordered demandingly. “There is a clear trail, let’s hurry.”
The group began running up the trail, Chandra staying with them though she could have gone much faster. They were expecting to fall into the lair of The Master and so were looking for traps at every interval. A light suddenly appeared, bright even in the pre-dawn light. They prepared for a spell, but instead, it stopped a few feet from them.
“Hurry!” a tiny voice yelled at them tiredly. “They have Dale; they’re killing him!”
“Lead us to him!” Hans stepped forward and nearly begged the Wisp.
“I… I can’t. I’m so weak, starved, tortured.” The Wisp began floating toward the portal. “Must get to Cal…”
“Abyss take it!” Adam swore vehemently as he started running up the slope. “Hurry!”
They raced up the incline but certainly arrived too late. Chandra grabbed a few of Rose’s arrows, infused Mana into them, and threw them at the group of distracted necromancers. The arrows flew true and sprouted hungry roots as soon as they were in the bodies. The roots were meant to stop the bleeding so the target would experience every sensation till death, and the pain made them all spasm for long moments before dying. Tom saw a glimmer as something was flung from the twisted hand of their leader.
“Filthy Necromancers!” Tom roared an earth-shattering cry, his voice almost unrecognizable in his grief. Distaste was evident in every motion he made, and he kicked a body and yelled at the others, “Make sure to burn their rotten corpses and everything they have with them. It is sure to be tainted by the infernal!” He glanced toward where Dale’s body lay broken and covered with blood and filth.
“Poor bastard. I’m sorry we weren’t fast enough... to save you,” he managed to say brokenly, keeping his voice low in an attempt to preserve morale in his team. Mixed emotions skittered across his face before finally settling on anger. He then turned and began barking orders, “Take his body. We’ll give him a proper burial. His armor too. The Mithril in there can be used for any number of purposes. Let’s… let’s get back.”
~ Cal ~
I struggled to direct enough Mana into the room for me to reach the portal. I was
very glad I did, as I was barely able to prop it open. It had almost collapsed and was now taking a huge amount of power to keep open. A bit of my influence crept through the tear in space, and I almost was sick from the vertigo I was experiencing. I struggled to understand why it was affecting me so badly when my soul connected to something in the distance and I forgot everything else. To my surprise, it wasn’t Dani that held my attention. I knew this place, I knew it intimately. This… this was a portal through time! I was connecting to… myself?
A part of my soul, a part I hadn’t even realized was missing, integrated into my aura. I was suddenly in Dale’s mind as he was dying. I watched as Dale was tortured for me, and would have cried if it were possible when he told Dani that he kept his promise. As Dale’s mind and soul was sucked into his Core - the same Core I had originally resided within - I realized that this was my origin. Dale was turning into me. As I watched Dale... myself… die, I realized that I had a monumental choice to make. I could keep the portion of my soul I had lost so long ago… or I could leave it with Dale and allow him to grow with all of his memories intact. I could allow my youngest self to be a complete being.
But… I hesitated. How different would I be today if I had kept my memories, my human morals, or my sense of self as a person? I likely wouldn’t have survived to become what I now was as a dungeon. Reluctantly, I did what I must have done before, separating all of those memories from my soul of that time, pulling the soul-shard back and absorbing it into myself. I felt like a terrible person. Time loops suck.
I now had all of Dale’s… my memories. I knew everything he did, and I want to say it changed me. I really want to say it made me a more compassionate person… but it didn’t. Having my unsegmented soul did make me more complete, but the memories I gained were like those I gained from a memory stone. Me… but also not me. I pulled away and watched as the Core that was me fall from the hand of the necromancer and disappear into the deep crevasse. I glanced around, nostalgic for this moment. The sun was pouring across the ground like a viscous liquid, the air temperature was perfect for comfort… Gorgeous. I had been correct back then. It truly was too beautiful a day to die.