The casualties on the Orcs’ side were growing significantly, as well. The slam of Mana being funneled into her shortly after the massive battle began above her dungeon staggered her mind. Hundreds of Orcs were killed within the first few seconds, and hundreds of thousands of units of Mana were inserted into her Core nearly instantly, and it was all she could do to keep up with it. Sandra used most of it to create more constructs – Mechanical Dire Wolves and Jaguar Queens, as well as Titanium Anacondas (which were all fast enough to reach the battle from her main entrance quickly) – and sent them to help the Orcs. Sandra’s mercenaries, the Shieldmen with their constructs, and the Elves with their Wyvines were on their way as well, though it would take nearly 10 minutes for the first to arrive.
While the constant influx of Mana from the deaths of the Orcs wasn’t exactly unwelcome, the emotional impact on her mind certainly was. Each death and subsequent spike in Mana was like a jab at her psyche, as she realized that people were dying and though she was taking actions to stop it, a small part of her mind wanted it to continue. Each death made Sandra that much more powerful and that part inside her Core that encouraged the death was steadily growing stronger and louder in her mind.
She was able to hold on to her sanity, though barely, because she had to; if she let go, there was no telling what would happen. She identified that part of her that was telling her to help the other Dungeon Monsters and sequestered it to a portion of her mind that she did her best to ignore, though it was hard. Her only hope was that Perceine would be able to convince Kelerim’s father and the rebel Elves to help the Orcs dying outside instead of pursuing their objective of destroying her Core.
Within minutes of the battle outside starting, the group inside her Roc tunnel journeyed far enough to see Perceine and the Goblins surrounding her for protection.
Chapter 38
“Who are you? What is a Warrior doing down here?” the Warlord immediately stepped forward and asked Perceine.
Sandra watched and concentrated on the entire exchange, while she tried to ignore the death and destruction happening up above.
“My name is unimportant; I’m a mercenary working under the direction of this dungeon. She asks that you turn around and help our people because they are being slaughtered behind you.”
“Being slaughtered by this dungeon! Why are you working with such an abomination?” The Ranger known as Wyrlin asked the question with anger in his voice before he turned away and said to the others with him, “See, I told you that this dungeon seems to be able to influence people, just like they did with my Echo and our Elites sent to destroy it. Now it seems to have made slaves of your people, too.” The Warlord seemed to ignore the Ranger, but Sandra could tell that he was listening.
“You don’t understand!” Perceine shouted. “Those monsters out there aren’t from this dungeon; they’re from four different dungeons surrounding the wastelands from the Elven and Dwarven lands. I as well as nearly 50 others have been employed by Sandra to fight those dungeons, and now it’s trying to destroy her because she’s preventing them from expanding.” Perceine pleaded with them and was sincere in her explanation, but it fell on deaf ears.
“Sandra?” Wyrlin said with a question in his voice, as if he was trying to recall something. “That’s the name of this dungeon heart? I seem to remember it from what Echo had mentioned, so now I’m sure that this is the right one. It has you under its influence and you don’t even know it. Even if those monsters are from other dungeons, I bet it summoned them when it found out we were coming to destroy it.” The scorn in his voice was almost visible, it was so thick.
* Honestly, I think it was just horrible timing; I don’t think the other Cores knew that they were even here until they emerged near this tunnel. *
Perceine relayed that, but as the sounds of fighting and dying Orcs and Monsters continued to reach them inside the tunnel from outside, the invading group were starting to get restless. “This is just a delaying tactic. We need to keep moving if we’re going to destroy this dungeon heart before it’s too late,” the Elite leader suddenly said, which got nods from everyone else.
“Move aside and don’t interfere,” the Warlord said to Perceine. “If you were indeed under the influence of this dungeon, then we’ll deal with you after we destroy it.”
“You don’t understand what you’re doing—” the mercenary began, not backing down, but was interrupted by the ravings of Wyrlin.
“No! She deserves to die for helping the enemy!” he said, just before raising his bow and letting an arrow fly. Sandra could see the tell-tale sign that he had applied an Earth-type spell to his projectile as it was released. Sandra didn’t even have time to warn Perceine, but it wasn’t necessary; the mercenary used her Air energy to fling her to the side, out of the arrow’s path. Instead of hitting her, it hit a Goblin standing behind her, hitting its chest armor so hard that it dented the plates inside; the impact also caused the enchantment connected to the armor to go off, which released a cloud of Nether energy in front of the Goblin even as it was knocked backwards.
No one stopped the Ranger from firing again, instead watching passionlessly as Perceine dodged backwards, and the second arrow pierced through the eye of another Goblin, who died instantly from the wound.
* Run! You can’t fight them all yourself; I have plenty of defenses here to stop them. *
Her mercenaries had learned the value of listening to Sandra, and with the odds so stacked against her there was no point in staying. That, plus the fact that she probably didn’t want to fight with her own people – as misguided as they were – probably factored into the way Perceine practically danced her way around the Goblins protecting her as she fled.
“You honorless coward! Warriors don’t run from a fight!” Kelerim’s father suddenly said as he snatched an Iron sword from a nearby member of his Warband, cocked it back behind his shoulder, and then threw the weapon towards the retreating mercenary.
* Look out! *
Either her warning made Perceine hesitate or it was just bad luck, but Sandra’s mercenary dived out of the way – to the wrong side. Instead of avoiding the thrown sword that was rotating so quickly in the air that it made a high-pitched whistling sound, she instead launched herself right in its path. Her armor probably would’ve prevented her from being damaged too bad from it, but the tip of the sword landed in the back of Perceine’s neck, impaling itself so deeply it severed her spine and stuck out through her throat.
For a moment, Sandra thought her mercenary might have survived; she saw her moving as her body slid to a stop on the floor where she landed after being impaled, but it was apparently just an involuntary reaction of her corpse at the point of dying. The Dungeon Core soon felt the bump in her Mana that came from Perceine’s death and Sandra could only look on with utter surprise and sorrow at her very first mercenary’s demise. Her mind felt like it was frozen in shock as if she couldn’t figure out how or why it had happened.
At least, it was frozen until she overheard the invaders talking.
“Nice shot, Warlord. I couldn’t have done it better myself,” one of the Elite archers said with a bit of envy in his voice.
“Ha! I’ve still got it, even after all the years,” Kelerim’s father laughed uproariously, while his Warband congratulated him.
Sandra lost it.
She had the presence of mind to warn Kelerim, though.
* Your father is going to die. *
“What? Why? I thought you were going to try to talk to him.”
She was just barely holding onto her rage as she answered him.
* Tried. Failed. They have to die. *
“Who? My father and these other Elves you told me about?”
* No. I’m going to kill all of them! *
Her mind snapped and a shade of red that reminded her of blood fell over her vision. She vaguely heard Winxa trying to talk to her, but she couldn’t focus enough to understand her; all she could concentrate on was destroying h
er enemies and anyone that would harm what was hers. All of the invaders were going to die, and she would revel as they were sliced up, smashed, and ripped apart!
* * *
With the crazy Orc working with the dungeon dead and out of their way, it didn’t take long for their group to get moving. Having seen what had happened to the first Goblin that was blocking their way with its strange cloud of darkness that emerged from it when it was hit, Wyrlin and the other Rangers – including the Elite archers – took aim and slaughtered them from range. A few of the Goblins lit up briefly with a bright light almost like some sort of shield, while others had a layer of ice covering their chest armor – in addition to more instances of the dark cloud coming out as they raced towards their group. They were good enough shots, however, that none of them even came close.
“I thought you said this place had monsters made of metal. Those were Goblins,” the Warlord remarked.
“They are supposed to be, but maybe it influenced the minds of some Goblins from another dungeon – I don’t know,” Wyrlin shrugged back, unable to formulate a theory of why there were Goblins inside of the entrance tunnel.
The Orc Warriors advanced first down the tunnel, while Wyrlin, the Warlord, and his fellow Elves followed after. It didn’t take long to come to what was obviously a room, because the sides opened out on either side, which was where the Orc that now lay dead and the Goblins had been waiting for them.
As soon as the first Orc passed over the threshold into the first room, a sheet of rushing water fell down from the ceiling, creating a giant waterfall that pounded the Orc into the floor. He was dragged out by another Warrior beside him and when Wyrlin looked he appeared hurt but not greatly so.
“What kind of trap is this?” Mercyll asked. “It doesn’t even seem like it would hurt all that much.”
“No idea, though I’m hesitant to spend my energy to negate it. If we rush through, we should be safe,” Fyola said, staring at the waterfall suspiciously.
The first few Orcs who tried were soaked by the time they went through and came back, stating that it was safe. When it was Wyrlin’s turn to go through, the shock of the cold water hitting him was certainly impactful, but not deadly. He was drenched, of course, but otherwise not hurt. Luckily, he and the others had unstrung their bows and put the strings in an oiled pouch to keep them dry, otherwise they might have been ruined.
“Hold up, I’m sensing another Water-based trap up ahead that feels nearly identical to this last one,” Fyola said suddenly as they walked forward. “I’m assuming these were here to disorient us as we moved through, and then be attacked by those Goblins. It’s probably safe.”
“Probably? Are you willing to risk your life to test that theory?” the Warlord asked.
Yes. Please test it for us, Fyola.
“Uh, no – I’d rather not. I’ll just negate it, but I won’t be able to for long; the sheer size of this trap means I’ll only be able to do it for a few seconds. I don’t want to waste my energy in the first room, after all.” The Elite Leader strode forward and put her hands out – purely for effect – and said, “Get ready…ok, now.”
They all rushed across where Fyola had indicated the trap was, including herself, though she ended her negation too quickly. A half dozen Orc Warriors were caught in the trap zone when it initiated, and they were slammed into the floor as they rushed forwards. Wyrlin assumed that they were just going to be a little wet, but instead there were long shards of ice stuck in them in random places where they were hit by the waterfall.
“Mercyll, heal them,” Fyola said quickly, which prompted the other Elite spell-caster to rush to the first’s side. Rothgar Bloodskull also shouted out in Orcish, and a dozen Warriors raced over and knelt by the injured Orcs as well, where they began healing them using their energy. Huh. It never occurred to me that they would be able to heal; I thought their energy was all used internally. It was good to know that they had more than just a single healer, either.
“Probably safe, huh?” the Warlord said towards Fyola, before instructing those healing to only expend enough energy to get them up and walking, because they couldn’t afford to waste any time. It seemed a little callous to Wyrlin, but she was impatient enough that he agreed.
Less than a minute later, they were on the move with their walking wounded, and they jogged lightly to where they could see another room was up ahead. Before they got more than 50 feet from the threshold, another of the Elite spell-casters – the arrogant one that had called Wyrlin and his Rangers pathetic when they first met – strode forward and said, “There’s a Fire trap in here. I’d heard that this dungeon had multiple elements, but I’ve never heard of one having opposing elements before. We were right to destroy this dungeon heart because it’s entirely too powerful as it is.”
“Well then, negate it and we can keep going. I don’t want to leave my Warband outside for too long, so let’s get this over with so I can get my revenge and save who I can out there,” the Warlord said impatiently.
“I don’t think I can negate the entire thing; the range of this trap is immense, and I’ll only be able to do an area of about 20 feet around me for about a minute or so.”
“Fine, let’s see what it is first and then we’ll be able to see if it’s necessary or not,” Fyola said. As if to prove herself after her near blunder in the previous room, she walked forward and triggered the trap before springing back. She needn’t have worried, since the trap wasn’t near the threshold, but instead were multiple lines of fire stretching across the open space of the room from one wall to the other. They were staggered in different heights, meaning that if you wanted to get through them you’d have to duck or jump over them, and some towards the end of the room were moving in some sort of pattern, though it was hard to tell exactly what it was from his vantage point.
“Looks difficult, but not impossible. There aren’t any monsters in here, so it seems as though this is a simple trap room – I’ve seen a few of those in my day,” Fyola said confidently.
“Are you sure about that?” the Warlord asked her snidely.
“Absolutely, I’ll show you.” Then the Elite Leader did something Wyrlin wasn’t expecting; she tucked and strapped her robe to her surprisingly lithe body so that there was nothing sticking out unnecessarily, and then practically ran towards the lines of Fire crossing the room. Without breaking stride, Fyola ducked under the first line, dove over the second, slipped underneath the third, and then continued on through all the rest with the most spectacular exhibition of acrobatics that he had ever seen. She even effortlessly navigated her way through the moving lines of fire without difficulty, landing at the end of her run through the room with a typically unnecessary flourish and looked back at them.
“See? Simple. Now, I’m sure some of you might not be able to do that as well as I can, so—” she began, not even out of breath from her crazy stunt, when something landed next to her with a *clink* and rolled to a stop in front of her feet.
“What is--?”
The copper-colored object suddenly exploded in a massive ball of fire that sent a shockwave that Wyrlin could feel all the way back where he was near the entrance of the room. A brief wave of heat washed over him as well, showing how hot the explosion was, though at that distance it wasn’t horrible; the flash of light from the explosion dotted his eyes, however, and when they finally cleared, he looked out to see if Fyola had survived – but something else caught his attention in the corner of his eye.
“Heads up!” he shouted and raised his bow to fire. There were more Goblins on top of the previously empty rooms near the ceiling and they were holding similar copper-colored spiked balls in their hands. Almost as one, they tossed them towards the group of Orcs and Elves just outside the entrance of the room, just as he and a few dozen others released their arrows, striking the Goblins all over the room with precision.
Rothgar shouted in Orcish, but it wasn’t hard to understand that he was telling everyone to run back. Wyrlin did j
ust that, following the others as they retreated, though he was knocked over when multiple blasts went off behind them. He tumbled forward, barely protecting his bow in the process, and he hit his head pretty hard, but otherwise he was largely unhurt. He was just getting up when a few more explosions went off, from inside the room; looking back, he saw one of the Goblins that had been shot had been hit in its neck, though it was positioned in such a way that it didn’t kill it right away. As it struggled to figure out how to get the arrow out, it kicked some more of the copper balls off of the wall and into the room, causing a few more explosions, before following them down itself as it tripped and fell with a painful crunch on the stone floor.
When they recovered, they found three Orcs that hadn’t made it out of range of the explosions and had been practically ripped apart from sheer proximity. There was nothing to do for them, however, so they were left where they were – though their weapons were taken by some of the other Warriors. Apparently, their iron weapons were notorious for breaking, so they were always looking for replacements.
“What is going on in this dungeon? What were those things?” Mercyll asked, obviously a little shaken up.
Wyrlin couldn’t blame him because he felt the same way. “I have no idea, but we need to get moving. We’re wasting time.”
“Wasting time? But those things just killed Fyola!” he said angrily.
“Not…quite.” Wyrlin looked towards the end of the room and was disappointed to see Fyola standing there, though she appeared to be scorched in multiple places, and half of her hair had been burned away on one side.
The Crafter's Darkness: A Dungeon Core Novel (Dungeon Crafting Book 4) Page 42