Dungeon Bound

by Bastian Knight

  Cindra didn’t waste the opening. She let the momentum of her spin twist her around, bringing her lethal sword around in a devastating chop.

  The black blade caught the stumbling man cleanly along the waist, sliding between armored plates. Enchanted adamantite split him in half. His upper body folded forward, flopping down as the dying man screamed at his upright legs.

  The move cost her though, and two of the men she’d just driven back lunged in and landed solid blows against her leather and bronze armored back.

  She howled in pain, and Gabriel thought back to his sparse knowledge of healing.

  Her kidneys are in the same place as mine, aren’t they?

  He felt her agony across their bond now, and the pain was almost overwhelming. It would have been, if not for her white-hot determination not to fail her new Pack.

  Not to fail him.

  Furious at their cowardly attacks on the courageous hellhound, Gabriel let out an angry growl of his own before rushing past embattled goblins to aid his ailing bonded.

  ***

  Crossing the twenty feet to Cindra’s side took far too long. Multiple times, Gabriel paused and had to fight his way through the men in between them. Twice he gritted his teeth and struck out at unsuspecting invaders who’d tunnel-visioned in their eagerness to finish off wounded goblins.

  I’d trade them all in a heartbeat for her, but the longer they last, the better our chances.

  Gabriel continued to throw himself wholly into the frantic melee, lungs gasping for air. Tense shoulders finally loosened when he reached his goal.

  In the time it took him to reach her attackers, Cindra had downed another of the men and put her back toward the wall. But her breathing looked as ragged as his felt, and copious rivulets of her brighter blood concealed the dark blue of her armor. Splattered across her to mix grotesquely with hers was enough red blood to fill a man.

  ‘She has fought so hard. Please do not let her die now, cornered and alone.’

  The thought occurred in his mind, but the cadence reminded him of his Prime. For a split second, the desire to glance back and check on Sthuza tempted him, but he suppressed the urge and stabbed his target.

  Bitterly lamenting the years since his last training, Gabriel bit his lip, throwing his full weight behind the poorly aimed strike at the oblivious man’s neck. He’d intended to go for the gap beneath the man’s heavy helmet, but when his sword glanced off the rounded plate, he changed his mind and rotated, keeping up the pressure.

  The enchanted sword Sthuza presented him with was harder and sharper than any weapon he’d ever wielded. Even so, he knew it would never punch through the thicker armor plates. But tracing it along the curved edges and sliding into the far weaker underarm section worked perfectly.

  Fully committed to driving his blade home, Gabriel swore when another soldier turned and swung a heavy mace his way. He clenched his eyes shut as he tried to lean away from the lethal metal approaching his exposed back.

  Guess we’ll find out how tough this coat really is.

  Mind filled with fear of imminent death, he grunted in pain when the heavy blow struck him in the middle of his back. His eyes snapped open, bulging in shock as the hit blasted the air from his lungs, and time sped up.

  Gasping for breath, he fell farther into his precarious dodge, twisting his sword and extracting a tortured scream from his target as he fell.

  Gabriel barely noticed the fall, mind still struggling to comprehend that he wasn’t dead from the terrible blow. And that he couldn’t breathe. A gasp of escaping breath marked his impact, further addling his confused mind.

  He landed chest first, triggering his lungs to draw a deep, soothing breath, and he coughed. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth, but upon drawing a second much-needed lungful of air, he decided it was from his busted lip. Not coughed up from within his battered chest.

  At least I hope it’s just from my mouth.

  Mind no longer screaming for him to breathe, his thoughts cleared, and he spotted the dying woman who’d broken his fall. He rolled over, off the thoroughly beaten human, then gasped at the intense pain along his spine.

  That can’t be good.

  To Gabriel’s surprise, despite the pain, he continued the motion and soon rose on shaky legs. He had no clue how long he’d been down. But upon rising, he stood behind the man who’d struck him.

  The same man that was even now in mid-strike at the struggling hellhound.

  No!

  Gabriel lifted his arm to strike, swinging it forward before belatedly spotting his empty fist.

  Shit.

  With no clue where his sword was, and no time to grab another weapon, he shifted his weight and tackled the mace wielder.

  Focused on the vulnerable monster girl, the man had left himself completely open, and the sudden weight of Gabriel leaping onto his back dragged him down to the pile of bodies.

  Surprise at his success momentarily stunned Gabriel, and his lapse gave the more heavily armored man plenty of time to twist around and grapple him. A mail-fisted punch to the face rocked him back, clearing his shock.

  He spat hot blood up at the man, smiling through the pain when his wrestling foe loosened his grip to wipe the mess from his eyes.

  Gabriel hadn’t been in a brawl since his tenth year in the Academy. But he remembered one lesson his mother, the Grim Lady, had drilled into his head as a child.

  If you have to hit someone, keep hitting them till they stop moving.

  Figuring it to be excellent advice for his present circumstances, he rocked his head up. His forehead slammed into the blinded man’s nose, cartilage shattered, and a rush of blood gushed out, coating both their faces.

  With the man’s battered face a bloody ruin, it was child’s play for Gabriel to throw the armored soldier off him. Not relenting in the savage fighting, he swung himself onto his victim, reversing their positions.

  Gabriel continued to pummel the soldier’s face. Heedless of the gore, or the damage he inflicted on his own fists, he smashed the other man’s misshapen head until brain matter oozed out.

  His chest heaved. He glanced around again, lungs laboring for air. Straddled on the remains of his latest kill, he let out a long breath at the sight before his eyes.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  The last of the goblins were out of the fight, along with around twenty of the invading humans.

  How many of these assholes are there?

  As he turned to look toward the closer wall, Gabriel’s heart sank at the sight of Cindra down on one knee.

  Stunningly beautiful, even covered in blood, the six-foot-six beastkin was panting even worse than he was. Cindra’s blue tongue lolled nearly to her blood-splattered chest as she sagged against her downthrust sword. Red and blue blood drenched her tight-fitting armor, the thick mess running slowly down her form.

  At least she’s still alive.

  Thankful that she was breathing, he shifted off his impromptu mount and froze at the scene by the altar. Sthuza, his Prime, the refined gorgon that had done so much to help him adjust to his new life as a DM, was locking blades with a pair of lightly armored men wielding short, curved swords.

  He’d noticed the pair of silver daggers she fought with but had never expected her to engage in melee. A quick search spotted her ornate bow casually tossed to one side of the dark stone block. Next to it, two empty quivers.

  Did she run out of arrows? Why didn’t I pay more attention to her battle?

  Anger at himself for neglecting his Prime warred with his fear for her safety. While she had equipped herself to the same level as she had Cindra and him, multiple attacks had marred her once pristine armor.

  A broken arrow shaft jutted from just above her hip, and there were several scorch marks spread across her chest and abdomen. Angry red burns were visible beneath more than a few of them. The messiest wound was a slash along her left shoulder from which blood continued to flow freely. That cut had sliced through her armor an
d torn off her short cape.

  Exhausted as Gabriel was, it was doubtful that he could cross the room to aid her. Instead, he searched around him for the corpse he’d left his sword in.

  I’ve still got enough mana to blast one of those shitheads if I can just get my conduit.

  He found it right where he’d left it—sunk to the crossguard in a man’s armpit.

  Nerves fraying with each passing second, he pulled at the blood-soaked hilt. Hands cramping as he tugged, he refused to quit. It took a second to shift his weight, and after bracing his feet on the corpse, he jerked back, grunting in exertion.

  The sweet sensation of victory flooded his weary body. Gabriel staggered to his feet and turned to face the two men still working to kill the wounded gorgon. But before he finished turning, he froze as a cultured, pompous voice called out his name in surprise.

  Even though the voice lacked its usual disdain, he recognized it at once. He turned to the entrance, where the last two intruders stood side by side.

  Kelith was an even six foot, with a handsome face and thick blond hair. Always more popular with their classmates, Kelith had taken an intense dislike to Gabriel by the end of their first term at the Academy. The fact that Gabriel was the son of the eccentric Grim Lady had made it all too easy for Kelith to incite their classmates against him.

  The sight of the baron’s arrogant son standing there staring in disbelief brought back the memory of all the petty abuse he’d suffered at the young noble’s hands.

  Eyes wide, the well-groomed man gaped at him. “It can’t be. They said they killed you. Sacrificed you and used your Essence to unlock the seal.”

  “Fancy meeting you here,” Gabriel said jauntily before his voice darkened. “You fucking prick!”

  “Wait, how can you be alive? Why are you helping these monsters?” the startled man asked, raising his hands before him.

  “A very special someone saved my soul,” Gabriel snarled. “Then you come in here and try to steal her away from me? And you dare to harm my bonded!

  “I’m going to enjoy killing you!”

  Kelith said something, but Gabriel didn’t care. He couldn’t hear it over the sound of his pulse thundering in his ears anyway. Instead, he raised his arcane conduit and began weaving an attack spell.

  More on instinct than planning, Gabriel surprised himself by diving into the complex casting of that sinister power he’d used against the undead. This time he drew only a minuscule trickle of mana and threaded it into his spell.

  It still felt wrong, sending a shiver up his spine as he wove the alien spell. He didn’t care. Instead, he forced the discomfort down, burying it beneath his anger. Running on rage and instinct allowed him to watch his hated foe. To watch the man who had arranged his murder in the dungeon so they could steal Meri.

  Across from him, Kelith and the woman standing with him were working in tandem to cast a spell. He knew that the asshole had access to multiple magical items and would be the harder foe to beat.

  Long seconds passed while Gabriel worked to weave the unsettling glyphs, barely restraining his urge to rush the casting. The bile rising in his throat likely helped him hold back and cast it right.

  It’s not as terrifying this time. Maybe it gets easier to use with practice?

  He was almost through when he recognized the spell circle forming across from him. A grim smirk crossed his face, and he set the rest of his mind to weaving a tailored counter to Kelith’s showy attack.

  The three casters finished their spells simultaneously, and the glowing arcane attacks passed each other as they homed in on their targets.

  Gabriel’s small darts of purple-black shadows lacked in spectacle compared to the head-sized globe of molten death hurtling toward him. Arcane conduit still raised and fully attuned from his attack, he released his counterspell to race through the glowing sword.

  While Kelith’s attack was far larger, it burst into harmless sparks two feet in front of Gabriel. Its Aetheric bindings unraveled by the intense burst of magic that intercepted it. He didn’t even try to fight the grin spreading on his face at the shocked looks the two opposing mages shot him.

  When his dark bolts struck their spell shields, their surprise turned to fear as the eerie bolts began eating through the glowing barriers. The darts diminished as they burrowed but were still visible when they broke through and slammed into Kelith and the female mage, eliciting agonized screams.

  He closed his eyes for a second to check his mana pool and groaned.

  Maybe enough for a few more counters, but even with this conduit, I can’t keep up attack spells long enough to overwhelm Kelith and the toys his father gave him.

  The grimacing woman launched directly into a new spellcast, while the blond noble withdrew a metal vial and downed the contents.

  Of course he’d have a healing potion. No doubt an expensive one that won’t leave him instantly exhausted. Shit, this is going to get rough. Hope Sthuza can handle her assholes. Even if I win, doubt I’ll have enough left in me to help.

  Gabriel resigned himself to a slow battle of attrition, hoping to force his opponents to squander their mana on more showy attacks he could counter cheaply.

  That assumes they don’t get wise and better conceal the glyphs they’re weaving.

  He barked a bitter laugh.

  Nah, Kelith was always a pompous fool. I doubt he could conceal them well enough to matter if his life depended on it. And right now, it very much does.

  A spiteful grin on his face, Gabriel observed the casting mage. It took longer this time. But in the end, he identified the spell being cast and teased out a trickle of mana to ready an appropriate counter.

  He found limiting his harnessing to such tiny fractions of his total mana pool to be a new experience. Thankfully, while it felt odd to harness such a small percentage, he was used to working with minor amounts of mana for his spells.

  Despite the late start, he finished an efficient counterspell before the woman released her attack. A noxious cloud of sickly yellow-green gas manifested from her outstretched hand and blew toward him.

  Given the nature of the attack, he’d decided against trying to dispel it entirely. Instead, He prepared a counter with air magic. Rather than risk failing to overcome the woman’s more carefully woven spell, he triggered a minor modification of the wind and rapidly dispersed the noxious fumes.

  She grimaced at him, her dark eyes narrowing as she began muttering again. This time Kelith joined with her, his gestures and syllables more precise than before. While they might be working together on this casting, their choice of magic was too obvious, and Gabriel set a part of his mind to preparing his response.

  Still more than a little unsettled by the strange way he could now focus on a spell in the background, he devoted the rest of his attention to studying their shields.

  Both of them are wearing enchanted mantles to anchor their defenses. Overwhelming either one will be a real bitch.

  The physical resistance enchantments woven into each mage’s robe compounded the issue. While not as efficient as a barrier against magic, with enough time and resources, an enchanter could strengthen cloth to near the protection of steel plate.

  Refocused on matching the timing of their latest attack, Gabriel released his counterspell a hair’s breadth after they fired off a series of glowing blue darts. He smirked when Kelith scowled at the strobing ball of energy he tossed in between them.

  All but two of the darts of Aetheric energy swerved to strike the glowing decoy, dissipating as they detonated impotently.

  Gabriel raised an arm to shield his face as the final two remained true and slammed into him before exploding in a flash of arcane power.

  One crashed into his gut, the other landing a glancing blow to his upraised arm before detonating too far away to cause any real harm. Again he silently thanked whatever gods had led him to Sthuza. The enchantment of his armor soaked up most of the energy from both blasts.

  “How are you d
oing that?” Kelith screamed, his face red with rage and exertion. His companion kept quiet, panting from mana fatigue. Now that her guard was down, it was easier to see she was much older than the noble. The acrid stink of fear the pair put off was unsettling and growing stronger by the minute.

  Hate to admit it, but that’s a good point. I was always better than Kelith, but not this much better. It’s like I can see right through their weaving, which is impossible. Isn’t it?

  Gabriel pushed the question aside for the moment, faking a cocky grin hoping to conceal just how drained he was feeling at the moment.

  There’s no way to know how much mana they spent before we started this duel, but they’ve been dumping it out way faster than I could have before Meri enhanced me. At least, I hope they can’t keep it up much longer. Otherwise, I’m screwed.

  With his attention focused on whittling down his opponents, he could only spare the occasional glance between spells over at his Prime.

  The terror clawing at his stomach surged up when he saw her still on the defensive. The two warriors were skilled and obviously experienced working as a team. Each time he looked back, she was moving slower. Her elegant grace fading as they continued to press her.

  Wish I hadn’t dropped the haste effect when that bastard nearly broke my spine. Or that Cindra was still up and fighting, none of these shitstains would stand a chance against her brute force.

  Gabriel turned back to the hostile mages and readied his next counter.

  ***

  After yet another disappointing exchange, Kelith leaned toward the woman, and they schemed up a new plan. The pair were both panting as bad as Gabriel. They’d tried several different attack spells, but so far, he’d countered or evaded each.

  Gabriel swallowed against the lump in his throat as he tried to anticipate their next move. While he’d survived everything they’d thrown at him, he hadn’t penetrated their defenses since his first strike.

  With all the blast spells they’ve been throwing, they’ve got to be getting close to empty. The DI display gives me a huge advantage on rationing.

  The briefest thought recalled enough of the Interface to show just how far he’d drained his pool.