by Konrad Ryan
The minotaur finally landed a particularly dangerous looking blow on Zero, but he turned, using his shell to block the hit. The weapon rebounded spectacularly, flying from the hands of the minotaur. Zero’s own hand shot out and grabbed the minotaur by the throat, then his hand glowed black in some cast spell. The minotaur’s neck turned to dust, its health sucked away. The Void Minotaur’s head rolled backwards, its health bar disappeared. The other three voids came close, cheering at the defeat of the minotaur. Zero moved so quick, the others, distracted by their victory, didn’t see him coming. Zero hadn’t waited for the vote asking about a bonus round, instead, his black blade appeared from mist, and stabbed into the heart of one void. It glowed black, as had his hand, a hole disintegrated where the void’s heart had been. Zero already gripped the remaining two voids by the throat and repeated on them what he had already done to the minotaur.
That black spell. It caused shivers to roll up and down Tad’s arms. Its power must be enhanced by constitution, some kind of drain spell, or disintegration spell. Zero had learned that spell somehow and used it to its full potential combined with Fat Crab. Chills continued up and down Tad’s back. He had discarded fat crab as useless, but here, the strongest void had thought it the most powerful path. Tad doubted it was the only class the dangerous man had earned.
Suddenly Tad stood in a void assimilation, obsidian walls surrounded Zero, and one of the defeated voids. Black strings connected the two, but it was obvious who was winning. Zero’s string was at least four times the thickness of the other voids. The thickness of Zero’s string was only slightly thicker than Leo’s had been. Perhaps Leo truly had been a prodigy.
Shock filled Tad once more at the display. He had expected Zero to tear his opponent apart, like Tad had Leo, but instead, he struggled to move even a fraction of what Tad had been capable of. Why? Why was Tad so strong when it came to void manipulation? It made no sense. If Zero and Leo were both geniuses, why did Tad eclipse them in this way?
He wracked his brain for an answer until the scene shifted once more.
Zero disintegrated the bladehyena’s almost instantly. He fixed his rotund form, using the character generator aspect, becoming the sleek and deadly figure Tad expected, though he still had a shelled back. Tad next appeared in that endless grassland, finally the fight that Tad was interested in. How would Zero deal with that many fingerteeth? How would he deal with 200 wraithfords? By this time Tad had received his 2x stat aspect, so he was quicker and stronger than Zero was.
How would Zero overcome this trial?
The question burned in his mind as the battle began. Surprisingly, Zero got through the fight with much difficulty. The wraithfords used their fingerteeth with great efficacy. Thousands of teeth distracted Zero, who hunted the wraithfords one by one. But the wraithfords fled and hid, always keeping a barrage of fingerteeth that pressured on Zero. His health would drop, but then he would drain a fingertooth, or a wraithford, and bring it back to full. Tad couldn’t help but be impressed at the utility of that spell. Destroy your enemies while healing yourself. It was the brutal efficiency Tad expected from Zero. The fight must have gone on for days before a tired and weary Zero roared his victory, his green scaled tail whipped out behind him in annoyance.
Finally, the familiar message appeared before Tad, but this time, it wasn’t as final.
*Cannot view what you have not completed. Complete your final warrior rank trial to view the next challenge.*
Zero was impressive. He had taken a single, powerful spell, and made an entire build around it. Harnessing the power and life force of his enemies to make them his own. He had even abandoned his quest-given sword in favor of using his hands.
Tad had done a similar thing. He had traded Raekast’s Fang for Fangshredder, then the wraithford axes, and finally Metzlegoph’s greatsword. At the thought, Tad summoned Raekast’s Fang in his hands. Shock rippled through him at the sight of the dagger. His memory hadn’t lied to him. A white, ivory blade gleamed in the darkness, with a gold lining that covered the cutting edge of the blade. The biggest change, however, was the new hilt that had formed beneath the crossguard. A familiar tight golden chain was now wrapped tightly where the rotted wood handle had once been, long ago. The weapon looked fierce, but more than that was the coloring. Gold and white. Those were creator colors.
Suddenly, Tad had the answer to where the boss, Fenrir, had gone. He had planned to escape the dungeon by hiding inside Tad’s dagger. By filling the empty vessel. He had abandoned his body, and physically died, yet lived on inside Raekast’s Fang, as a sentient void essence. Tad burst out in laughter, gentle at first, but irony grew in ferocity at the cosmic joke that had been played on Fenrir. Not only was he still stuck in the same dungeon, but now he was trapped in a second layer, inside Tad’s dagger, without a body to return to. Tad pulled up the information about the fang, eager to see how it had changed.
*Raekast’s Fang:
Soulbound. Set 1 of 3. This dagger created from the left-upper canine of Raekast Dungeonshifter. The icy grip of this weapon is immune to disarm. Ignores armor.
Damage done is equal to dexterity.
Raekast’s Vessel: Occupied.
Vessel Contract: Not made.
This weapon has a trans-dimensional space. Raekast’s Fang grows in strength, dependent on the power of its occupant.
Raekast’s Bite: Absorbs the user’s health to deliver a massive blow for twice the damage absorbed.*
Tad read and reread the information. If the dagger truly got stronger depending on the power of its occupant, then it would become a force to be reckoned with, but the dagger hadn’t changed yet. Fenrir was a true monster, but the dagger didn’t seem any stronger than usual.
He was pretty sure he knew how to power-up the blade. He would need to make the vessel contract.
But to do that, he would need to enter that space inside the fang again, but waiting for him wouldn’t be some demented void who sweated darkness. No. It would be the unchained Fenrir, with his binds released. Who knew how strong he might be? Even the Defector couldn’t best him, and he was a true reborn creator. But maybe Tad was wrong, maybe the wolf was still chained. Fenrir’s golden chains were now the hilt on the dagger, so maybe they still restricted his power. Tad felt truly nervous. To enter the dagger would be to put himself at a tyrant’s mercy.
A pang of guilt burned in his chest. Isn’t that exactly what he had done to Fat Jack? Sent him to be at a tyrant’s mercy, one whom he had taunted, one he had provoked. Tad had sent Fat Jack to his certain doom. But Salvation Cain was the only person who could have saved Fat Jack. Otherwise, Jack would be trapped instead of Tad.
Was this what Blaze had meant when he had chewed out Tad for killing Syphon? That he saved more people than he killed? Still, that seemed like faulty logic. That was the same leeway that the government had given Cain, under the Defector’s protection, and look at the monster he turned out to be.
Plus, Syphon was a crappy leader to begin with. He didn’t care about those who followed him. Ironfang and Elsie had both been poor leaders too, quick to dispose of those under themselves for self preservation. Nothing like the leader Tad wanted to become.
Ethan was closer to Tad’s ideal.
Gruff, too.
Tad pinched his eyes closed at the admission. Despite his betrayal, Gruff had been a good man, one who hadn’t been afraid to throw himself into danger to protect people who relied on him. He did everything in his power, including dying, to keep others safe. Despite all his resentment, all the pain of loss, and all the blame he had thrown at Gruff’s feet, he couldn’t help but admit that Gruff was the man that Tad wanted most to emulate. Not just a leader, it went further than that, Gruff was the type of man Tad wanted to become. Sure, Gruff had his flaws, but he was honest and fearless, even when he had the most to lose. He had a girlfriend and kid at home, yet still literally jumped into the fire to save a friend, when he could have cut his losses and gone home.
Tad
’s tongue flicked to the three missing teeth. One for each of his dead comrades.
It had felt like a betrayal at the time, but a reexamination left Tad asking exactly how Gruff had wronged him. Tad would have entered dungeons no matter the cost. Would he have balked at entering had he known someone had paid his way in? Surely not. He would have entered even with that knowledge. With Bunta on the team, how could they lose? Gruff had surely thought the same.
It wasn’t Gruff that had done them wrong. It was the Defector, and the dungeon system itself. The dungeons were too deadly, some beyond deadly, like this one had been. No group of warrior rank slayers would have been a match for Fenrir’s unchained might, not even ten Salvation Cains. How was this a warrior rank dungeon?
Tad’s anger grew in his chest. Gruff wasn’t the enemy. He couldn’t throw the blame at Gruff’s feet any longer, not without being dishonest with himself. These dungeons were the enemy through and through, Raekast and Titan being at the core. His level-up program had called him the dungeon destroyer, but only as a vessel, as a host to deliver the virus to Titan.
It had used him.
Tad gritted his teeth. His level up system may have used him to destroy dungeons, but Tad would become the dungeon destroyer in truth. He would make it a prophetic title. Gruff hadn’t been the enemy. It was always the dungeons. The dungeons that threatened earth, even the Defector was a byproduct of the dungeons. Knowledge he had obtained within dungeons had twisted the Defector’s motivations, turned him against the very planet from which he was born. The fire grew in Tad’s chest. He would destroy every dungeon. Every last one, ending with Titan.
And then he would hold the creators of the dungeons responsible, whoever they were.
Tad opened his character creation aspect and hit accept. He couldn’t hold on to his baggage any longer.
*You are missing 3 teeth, would you like those regrown?*
Tad tapped yes. He forgave Gruff his imperfections. Forgave him his weaknesses. Forgave him for being a flawed dungeon leader that couldn’t keep everyone safe.
As if they had never been gone, his three teeth pushed through his gums. His tongue explored each one, the name of his dead companions came to mind.
Gruff. Scar. Becca.
Finally, they were home.
Tad felt complete for the first time since Gruff’s betrayal. Funny, how he could feel whole now that he was trapped inside a dungeon with no hope of escape.
No. He would find a way to escape. He had to escape.
If he didn’t his promise of retribution would never be fulfilled. More dungeons would appear, and no one, besides Tad, could tell when they would explode. Only Tad could do that. If he didn’t get back quick…
The world, as he knew it, could end.
* * *
Gerald flew past Mexico, or what was left of it. Dark tendrils swarmed across the ground below in an inky sea of blackness. The southern border of the United States had been battling to keep the tendrils away, but their strength had been increasing. Fueled by Titan’s surge in power, it looked to have broken through several barricades.
He had to hurry.
If Titan would not explode, then sending their creators through its gates would be an enormous mistake, one that could cost humanity its life. No one knew Gabriel like Gerald did. Knew his motivations, his cruelty, and especially his ambition. He claimed he wished to join the gods, claimed that creators were gods, and wished to destroy this world to open the portal to the next. His plan was insane, but even Gerald wasn’t sure that his plans were impossible, and Gerald would try his damnedest to stop it.
His silver hair flowed down his back, his yeti form was dangerous, sometimes unpredictable. He had lost both friends and foe to the ferocity of his transformed state, but he had no choice. Speed was of the essence. Plus, creators wouldn’t be in any genuine danger.
He concentrated and sent every shred of his power from his feet, but his body generated more every moment. He raced through the sky, yet it would still take just under an hour to reach Titan, to reach the creators. He was traveling mach 9, almost 7000 miles per hour. In his youth he had raced even the fastest of jets, but his fastest speed was still too slow. This wasn’t the first time he regretted not being blessed with temporal magic, but it was the most poignant. The weight of humanity rested on his shoulders.
Even from this distance Gerald could see the sky darkening. Despite the unstable flux of power above each dungeon, Titan continued to deploy titanspawn to cover the skies. It was the only dungeon that continued to do so and had been the basis of his argument against the governments of the world. Titan continued to cover the skies with titanspawn, it wouldn’t explode. But no one would listen. Fear clouded their judgement, fear at the sheer size of the anomaly above Titan, satellites viewed it from space, it was unfathomably large, almost entirely covering the former continent. It was a blot on the globe, a cancer that needed to be removed. Should it detonate, it would likely take the entire earth with it, but to send every creator alive into the gates of Titan, a place that had swallowed everything that previously entered without a trace, was a Hail Mary that could not succeed.
Especially since there was a flicker of hope for the first time in Gerald’s long life. A new rebirth. Tad Harrington’s rebirth orb had been blacker than black. And while the boy had had no aura himself, the rebirth orb had matched Titan in both color and aura. Tad had been unable to see the aura of the globe, but Gerald had heard the whispers of promise the moment he saw it. Like a bolt of lightning, it made sense why none of the creators, not even Charles Tidwell himself, were a match for Titan. His suspicions were first confirmed when he had received Tad’s first phone call. The boy had pulled a warrior from the gates of hell, from an irregular dungeon, yet was unhurt himself. There was a rebirth above creator, and they finally had found it.
Why Tad started at zero was beyond Gerald. It was beyond reason and imagination. But the boy was progressing more rapidly than Gerald had thought possible. Stopping Tad’s attack the way he had, even being as gentle as his yeti form could manage, should have killed the boy. In fact, he thought he had killed the boy for a moment. His yeti form was feral and thirsted to strike out at every threat, even now he hungered to plunge downward and engage the black tendrils in battle.
Gerald just hoped the boy could truly grow to become the match to Titan. He had been tempted to assign the boy bodyguards, to keep him protected, but how could someone spoonfed and coddled become the match to the deadliest dungeon in history? He had seen other slayers fail in similar fashion. Protected and guarded until they had gained enough experience that others thought them sufficient to become great slayers on their own. They always died when danger hit. Gerald instinctively knew the truth. Tree’s protected from fierce wind were the first to fall. To guard Tad would be to doom him to failure.
Titanspawn thickened above with each passing moment. Gerald flew beneath them. He was not foolish enough, or reckless enough, to fight the monsters that hid within the depths of the titanspawn sea. Only creators could physically destroy the titanspawn, but the monsters were a different story. They didn’t get destroyed, they only dissipated, until enough titanspawn could feed them once more, then they regained their form. Why they existed in the first place was a matter of theory and opinion, for they didn’t seem to do anything. They couldn’t leave the titanspawn sea, nor did they show any desire to do so. They did, however, brutally kill any slayer to enter their depths beneath creator, but worse, once they completely covered the skies, it prevented humanity from fleeing to the stars.
Thick tentacles covered the ground like a carpet. Gerald would have to avoid those as well. The closer he got to Titan, the more dangerous they became. Each was deadly in their own right, fast as a warlord, strong as a champion, but Gerald flew high enough that he shouldn’t get caught. He flew fast enough that he should avoid detection until he was far past the ones who noticed him. There was no hint that the earth beneath had ever been lush or full of vegeta
tion, teeming with human life. Titan’s infinite appetite had consumed everything. They had found ways to slow its progress, but even now, Titan’s stain expanded. It was just a matter of time until it swallowed the planet whole.
A streak of pure light split the Titanspawn above, heading in the same direction, heading to Titan. Gerald was too late. If they entered immediately, then he wouldn’t make it in time. Whoever it was, had sensed him. The familiar tingle of a probe crossed his senses, but would they wait? Would they be able to convince the four most stubborn humans in the world to put their plans on hold?
It wasn’t likely.
Gerald pushed harder. He mixed his blood with his magic to force himself even faster. Being a blood mage had gotten him out of several binds when he had been a slayer himself, but he could never get used to the feeling of his insides self-destructing, not knowing when he had pushed too far and would inevitably pass out. Should it happen over the black tentacles below, it would be his certain demise. Gerald pushed even harder. He had never gone this fast before, his skin was on fire, the air in front of him incinerated before he flew through it. The intense heat was especially rough on his transformed body. His yeti form was almost immune to cold, but to heat, he was surprisingly weak.
Thoughts for another time.
Finally, the sphere above Titan became visible. Gerald’s stomach turned at the sight. The one in Kansas city had only been about three times the size of the dungeon itself, but the enormous orb in front of him extended from horizon to horizon, and the closer he got, the more he realized just how big it was. That he hadn’t been able to see it before could only be explained by the earth’s curvature. It was an impossible sight, one that would surely destroy the entire earth, should it explode.
Tad was right. It wouldn’t explode.