by Dakota Krout
I ordered each of the Bobs.
They looked up in surprise. One of them asked the question they were all dying to know. “Are you going to let us use… it?”
This was one of the ‘last resort’ weapons that had been suggested by the Goblins after some of the changes we had been able to make in the dungeon. An oversized opal on a pedestal didn’t sound particularly frightening, but this was a weapon based off of Bob’s staff. While it wasn’t nearly as quickly accessible and couldn’t be used in standard combat, if used correctly it would be worth the wait. It took quite a while to charge the Runes that would send Essence into the Opal, so I hoped that it would be ready in time. The necromantic Mage walked into the room containing Raile, sighing as the massive Mob rushed him. With a simple backhand, Raile was dead, brain splattered along the inside of his armor.
“Target point acknowledged! Charging now, Great Spirit!” The first Bob to make it to the opal began pouring infernal Essence into the wooden frame holding the gemstone in place. The Runes in the wood began to activate, directing the Essence to create a single-use charge. The frame began vibrating as the flow ran unchecked, and would explode eventually if it had to store the Essence for a long period of time. If all went according to my plan, they would be using the charge well before that point. More Bobs began arriving, and the flow of Essence into the Runes increased and stabilized. Some were activating the wind-based Essence receptacles, and the combined power began to fuse together in the opal.
The Necromancers stepped into the third floor, groaning when they saw the size of it. The Mage shushed them. “At least we don’t need to wander around tunnels like a bunch of morons. It’s an open room. The exit is in sight. Walk. Your legs aren’t for show.”
The ‘taunt’ Rune on the poor Basher utterly captivated the C-rankers, but the Mage only looked at it and frowned in consternation. The C-rankers sprinted forward in a brutal rage and began pummeling the rabbit into the ground with earth-shaking force. Only the inherent durability of the Rune kept the floor the Mob was now splattered across from breaking immediately, but it would not last long against this level of power.
I gave the order to the Bobs,
“Runes prepared! Essence levels critical! Clear the area!” Bob ‘one’ spoke.
“Back blast area clear!” Bob ‘two’ announced as Goblins dove away from the pedestal. “Go, go, go!”
The opal discharged. A ray of darkness raced in a straight line across the floor, spiraling as it did so. This bolt flew at the speed of darkness, and there should have been no possible way to dodge if you weren’t already in the process of doing so. This Mage though… he was something else. He plucked at the empty air, and his motion somehow scattered the C-rankers like they had been hit in the chest. Only one of them was still in the path of the attack, and the hissing darkness passed through the unfortunate man without slowing.
The beam reached the opposite wall and silently vanished before the man even hit the ground. There was no mark on him, nothing to show how he had been killed. The others gathered around, looking at the dead man. I watched as well, fascinated by the effects of my previously untested weapon. The Mage inspected the carcass, and shook his head. “A direct assault on the soul. It was… ripped out of him whole! Genius! We should look for the means behind this after we complete the job.”
The others looked at him in horror. “He’s dead, you bastard! You’ve known him for years. How can you be so cold?”
The Mage looked confused. “What are you talking about? Death is what we do.” He made a motion, and a flow of Mana went into the corpse. An outpouring of Essence cascaded from the body, and it hopped lightly to its feet.
“Hmm.” The undead man looked at his hands. “Very nice. Clean. No need to fight for the possession but somehow incredibly fresh. No rot at all.” The body looked at the Mage with a smile, its eyes now completely black. “Thank you Master, what a thoughtful gift.”
“Yes, well. We have determined that this dungeon is using a new weapon that launches a direct soul-tearing attack. I needed another Mage-ranked creature here; these C-rankers are not cutting it.” The Mage looked askance at the men on his team.
“Hey, hey, that is not fair, boss!” The surviving C-rankers were looking at the demon-inhabited man that was staring at them hungrily. “We are… useful.”
“Let’s find out who is more useful?” The demon had an unnaturally wide grin on its face. “If you are less useful than I am, at least promise to let us use your bodies when I tear you apart. I’m going to go kill everything on this floor, ‘kay?” The C-rankers went white-faced as the demon sprinted off toward the clustered Goblins.
“Runes are ready,” Bob seemed nervous, but was keeping it together nicely. Maybe I’d give him a raise. To the next ranking. They don’t use money. The Bobs were chanting, and with a final push, a surprisingly large number of wraiths appeared. “Go, slay the invaders!” Bob ordered the pack of wraiths. They began drifting towards the demon.
The Goblins arranged themselves into formations, getting ready to defend themselves.
“Sadly, no. They were all destroyed in the first few days, and I have been unable to lure more people into the needed ritual-trap,” Bob answered with tension evident in his voice.
I lamented.
Bob looked around, a bit uncomfortable. “Is this the best time to be discussing this?”
“Oh, really?!” Bob seemed elated. “That will be excellent! Oh… I know that must be hard to do…”
red celestial Essence into the aluminum armor it was wearing, transforming it into a powerful weapon against the infernal. A box appeared from the floor next to the Amazon, holding my swords and a large amount of demon-banishing weapons.
These weapons were quickly handed out. Now, all we needed to do was land a single attack and the demon would be banished, using its own power to accomplish the task. I took direct control of the Amazon, opened my eyes, and stepped into the courtyard. There was golden light reflecting from my armor, and my swords shifted to a golden hue. I took a few exploratory swings, jumped in place, and did a few stretches.
“Alright, let’s do this.” My voice startled me; I was unused to my words causing vibrations in the air. I was also not used to the feminine vocal chords. “Words! Words. Speaking is fun. Words.”
Bob seemed concerned. “Are… you okay?”
“Yes. Ye-es. Words are fun to say.” Gah! I bit my tongue! The demon hopped over the wall at that point, a disconcerting smile on its face.
“Hellooo.” He waved at the assembled Goblins. “If you would hold still, this will be much easier. No less painful though.” The possessed body charged forward, weaving between a storm of arrows. Not a single one touched him as inhuman contortions allowed his body to move out of the way of each shot. I heard his bones snapping as he bent backward, his spine unable to take the abuse. He started laughing and continued to do so, irrespective of the normal human need for air.
The Goblin berserkers charged forward as a wave and began shrieking in glee as their weapons began to find the mark. The demon was fast, but a dozen weapons swinging at it was near impossible to avoid at the speeds it could muster. The demon’s face twisted into a scowl as its bones snapped from the pressure.
“I just got this body! If anyone is tearing it apart, it’s me! Back off!” The demon punctuated his sentence by swinging at the berserkers, bones elongating from its hands. The bones burst into a flame I knew well: hellfire. A few of my advanced Bashers had the same flame coating their horns. His claws sliced through the minimal armor the berserkers had been convinced to wear, leaving long gashes that continued to burn. The flames quickly spread, ravaging their bodies as they continued to throw themselves at the demon. Bones shattered under their blows, and as the last berserker fell, the demon dropped to the floor.
Legs twisted into highly damaged shapes, the demon sprinted forward on its hands. Like a sick jester, it wrenched and contorted its body. Bones that had been poking through the skin became weapons as the demon swung the mangled limbs into my Goblins. The possessed body began laughing as my Mobs fell, somehow killing them though its own form was being pulverized.
“Just banish it already!” I barked in exasperation. “Why are you using blunt weapons? Stab!” We had just talked about this!
A warrior Goblin jumped forward at my order, his new war pick catching the demon in the chest. The residual momentum slapped the body to the ground, pinning it in place as the Runes on the pick activated. A wash of fire spread from the point of impact, and the demon looked at me in fury, unable to move as its power was drained to fuel the Runes.
“No! No! You made a big mistake, dungeon.” The demon furiously hissed, all pretense of humanity gone. “Before, I was only under orders to capture you. When I get back here, I will torture your soul for eternity.”
“Shoo.” I waved off the threat as the thing collapsed into itself, flakes of burnt skin was soon all that remained. I directed my aura to begin absorbing all of the bodies of my fallen Goblins, didn’t want to leave anything here for the incoming necromancers to use, after all. Speaking of… “Here they come!”
The Goblins that had relaxed after seeing the demon fall became the first casualties. They were easy prey for the invaders and potential bodies to be possessed. Bob and the others quickly began a counter-attack but were greatly outmatched. The black bolts of Essence from the Bobs’ staffs seemed to vanish as they approached the Mage, though not always perfectly. The bolts that did make it to the Mage seemed to do no damage, and he simply strolled through the other attacks. That ‘near physical immunity’ feature was beginning to piss me right off. The other Goblins were having better luck against the C-ranked invaders, but all of the wounds inflicted were superficial. We were completely outmatched in terms of raw power. Time for me to join the fight.
I pushed my new body to the absolute limits, screaming through the air at the Mage. There was a brilliant line of light along the edge of my weapon, and as I swung, I pushed a touch of Mana into my sword. Since I had waited to add Mana, the Mage had been ignoring my attack. His reaction time was insane and was also the only thing that saved him from being sheared in half. He created a shield of infernal Mana right where the sword was set to impact, but the power of my attack sent him flying across the room. The forced interaction of celestial and infernal created a dazzling light show of chaos, for a moment blinding and confusing anyone who saw it. He hit the wall hard enough to crack the reinforced stone and dropped to the floor coughing blood.
“Oh, really?” The Mage stood up, smirking. Great. That was always a good sign. He strode forward, then turned into a blur of speed. He kicked, and I managed to get my swords in the path of his attack, but it was a feint. His fist snapped out, crushing my C-ranked Goblin head. Just like that, I was simply a part of the dungeon again. A spectator. Drat.
I would need to form a body and forge it with Mana if I wanted to be able to directly interact on this level. I watched dispassionately as my Goblins were systematically butchered. I was unable to help them right now, though they would be back soon.
“Hey, boss-man. Look at this.” One of the C-rankers held up Bob’s staff. “Looks like a cylinder of opal surrounded by aspen! This thing is a relic! If we got a good inscriber to work some Runes into it, our Incantations could be boosted to almost triple the power for half the cost!”
Yikes. If he was that excited about the staff, I was even happier that the infernal soul-ripper had been returned to its underground armory.
The Mage seemed passingly interested, but the other C-rankers were so excited that only a stern warning kept them from abandoning the mission they were on in favor of better equipment. They stepped into the stairwell and descended to the fourth floor.
~ Chapter Twenty-Five ~
Dale stepped into the dungeon, allowing the portal to close behind him. The walls and floor this deep underground were tremoring slightly as the powers above began to throw around vast concentrations of Mana. Dale took a deep breath, looking at the four doors ahead of him. Which one would be the easiest to defend? To barricade themselves in? The ‘fire’ hall was no good; with over a dozen clerics, there was no way they would be able to move as a group to get past the torrents of flame. He didn’t trust their judgment in a high-stress environment like that. Someone would panic, and Father Richard would blame him.
Making his choice, Dale took a deep breath and gave an order. “Come on, through this door.” He stepped forward, crossing the threshold for the ‘earth’ tunnel. If he was going to be trying to protect someone, Dale wanted to do it in an area where he was most comfortable with the element at hand. The group walked behind him, nervous and jumpy. The majority of them were in the F or D ranks, with only one C-rank to act as a mentor to them. They should not be on this level, and at any other time they would have likely been picked off very quickly.
My attention flicked onto them just long enough to see Dale, then I focused my ire on the other invaders. Dale’s group was lucky though. If the situation were any less dire for me, I would concentrate all my efforts on destroying such a large group. But… not now. The main focus for this evening was the necromancers, and I needed all of my creatures to be focused on ending them. That didn’t mean my exceedingly deadly traps were just going to let the assorted people pass, of course.
“Stop!” Dale called suddenly. “That area is dangerous, go around it.”
“What are you talking about?” The cleric mentor scoffed, making a sweeping a
t the tunnel. “There’s nothing there.”
Dale agreed with him. “Exactly. It is clean. Too clean. There are small marks all over the place from the Mobs down here, but there is a circle on the ground here without a single scuff or imperfection. It’s screaming ‘trap’ to me.”
The cleric looked at the space and sighed. “I really hope that there was a good reason for Father to put you in charge. I am not used to this… this… dungeon diving, so I am going to trust your and Father’s judgment. Our lives are in your hands, Baron Dale.” The cleric helped Dale to direct the others around the potential trap, and they moved deeper.
Right about that time, the necromancers reached the fourth floor. A dozen Goblins were stumbling along with them, their eyes vacant and lifeless. They looked around and chose a path at random. Want to make a guess as to which tunnel they followed? Looks like Dale might have company soon. The Goblins started marching forward, a few feet between each one. Ugh. They are planning on using them to set off the traps. Necromancers are so annoying.
Dale’s group moved forward, skillfully avoiding traps, and encountering almost no Mobs. They did have a few scares as assorted Cats sometimes ran past them, hissing at the group before moving on. The group reached a branching path and went to the left. Moving forward, the tunnel widened into a full room, and they all looked around in interest. There was a stone pedestal in the center of the room, but there seemed to be no exit. After the last person filed in, the entryway was quietly hidden by a sliding stone door.
Approaching the pedestal in a circuitous manner, Dale inspected it for traps. He was unsure how he felt being down here with all of these unknown people but was doubly responsible for them. One, because they came into the dungeon with him, and two, because they were residents of his town. He set his mind toward ensuring that they all survived the night. He got close enough to the pedestal to read the writing on it.
“You have entered the trials. Trial one: Carry your weight and the rewards shall be great. Else; one for all.” He read aloud, catching everyone's attention. He kept reading as a stone slab unfolded itself from the pedestal. “A challenger appears, will this end in victory, or tears?”