by TJ Reynolds
Life’s about to get a lot stranger, Kai, she thought. Deal with it.
A hillock of onyx stone stood fifty feet away against the chamber’s wall. Rhona ran them up it and deposited her half-dragon friend at its zenith. He was only fifteen or so feet off the ground, but she hoped it would be enough.
Then Rhona returned to the pool and dropped her skill once more. Her head spun with the repeated changes in time flow but she ignored it.
“Oy! I’m over here, lizard,” she shouted. “When are you going to figure out you aren’t strong enough to beat me?”
Terrinore spun to find her, his black teeth grinding together as he growled at her.
Too angry for another speech, he charged again, and Rhona stood, waiting for the right moment.
When the basilisk was close, she saw him lift his paw to strike out. No doubt, some new ability would flash out and destroy her, but she didn’t plan to wait around until it did.
Rhona used Spirit Surge once more and sprinted around the beast. Hopping onto his tail, she bounded up his spine, leaping from stone plate to stone plate. Finally, she ran up his shoulder and along his arm and raised paw.
Terrinore’s head was nearly halfway to the ceiling and his paw even closer, so when Rhona leaped from the beast’s paw, sailing up toward the circle of falling water, she had only fifteen feet to go.
Too far of a jump for any ordinary warrior, but Rhona was moving at incredible speed.
She sailed easily up toward the nine spouts of water, up toward the disc of stone—the only barrier separating them from the lake above.
Even more force discharged from her fist than before, her body having endured several injuries and accrued significant ether since then.
Rhona felt the concussive blast of her punch crack the stone in its center. And then she was falling. She landed, falling into a roll as she touched the ground, and felt the world lurch back into real time. Rhona hadn’t dropped her skill; she was out of Progression, entirely.
Rhona spun to see the basilisk’s rage-filled eyes once more. She glanced up and saw the disc spraying water in all directions, the nine streams disrupted. But the stone held.
“Kai! Shoot every Flame Dart you can at the ceiling!” she shouted. Terrinore looked between the two and then up at the water. That single moment of indecision was enough time for Kai to raise the tip of his glaive and launch blast after blast of flaming ether at the stone disc. They exploded like bolts from a great crossbow, slamming one after another into the weakened stone.
And as the ninth Flame Dart smashed home, the ceiling erupted.
More water than Rhona knew existed in the world suddenly dumped down on them all.
The chamber was vast, larger than the lake above, but Rhona was quickly swept off her feet and sent tumbling in a crashing wave toward the far wall. She couldn’t see what had become of Kai, but as the wave she rode splashed against the chamber wall, Rhona flipped upwards, flung high in the air.
Terrinore stood glowering and unmoving. Water continued to pour across his back, but he screamed loud enough for all to hear. “Water will not stop me! I am Terrinore, first to be the last! You’ve done enough to disturb my domain. Now it is time to …”
The basilisk’s rant was cut short as the enormous figure of the Crocodeel boss plunged out of the hole above, smashing into him face first.
The basilisk may have been powerful, but the Crocodeel was a boss. Boss minions had more power, more health, and more abilities than their ascended level indicated.
Terrinore growled in frustration as the water monster fell on him. The sound was all the Crocodeel needed to locate its enemy. It rolled off the basilisk’s back, whipped its head around, and snapped its huge jaws in the basilisk’s face.
A blast of sonic energy tore into the basilisk’s eyes, shattering the onyx plates around his face. Terrinore screamed in rage. The two behemoths met in a flurry of claws and fangs, the sound of their impact even louder than the Crocodeel’s sonic attack.
Rhona wanted nothing more than to lie down, sodden and exhausted, and watch the two battle it out. But she spotted Kai climbing to his feet along a distant portion of the wall. She knew they needed to keep fighting; already, the basilisk’s overwhelming strength was turning the battle in his favor.
The Crocodeel was crushing one of the basilisk’s shoulders in its jaws, the onyx plating flaking off like rubble. Its forelimbs were wreathed in blue ether and it tore at its foe’s flanks mercilessly.
But Terrinore was fighting like a mad god. He slammed the Crocodeel in its flank, each time releasing bolts of the black energy. Already, a gaping hole had formed in the Crocodeel’s side. In a minute, the fight would be over, and no matter how injured he was, she knew she could not finish the basilisk alone.
Rhona ran to Kai, sloshing through the water that covered the floor. It came up to her knees as she ran, and Kai turned at her approach. He waved, then pointed to the shards of the Earth Core, sitting atop the dais.
“I need to get there. I don’t have my glaive and my strength is nearly gone,” he said, his words falling out of his mouth in a rush. “Help me.”
She only nodded, then wove her arm under his shoulder and together they trudged through the still-rippling water. They weaved around several dead or dying crocs, the smaller minions having fared worse in the plummet than their boss counterpart.
Above, the deluge of water from the ceiling had slowed. As they drew close to the stone island, the floor seemed to drop off before them, and they found themselves swimming together, the chill water sapping their strength.
Rhona plunged her head under the water and pushed Kai along.
His arms and legs continued to thrash in an effort to pull himself forward, but she could tell his body was seizing up from the cold.
He managed a few more feet though, and then was able to grasp the edge of the stone dais.
Rhona pulled herself out and then helped drag Kai up onto the platform. The splintered Earth Core lay only a few feet away.
Kai stumbled over to it and reached out. Rhona looked back as she heard a terrible roar. The Crocodeel’s long body was breaking.
Terrinore tore his shoulder free, heedless of the gouts of black blood that poured from it, and twisted around the boss monster. Terrinore took the Crocodeel’s neck in his mouth and then crushed its chest to the ground with one paw, ripping the beast’s throat out. Blood showered them both, staining the water black and red.
Terrinore looked up and met Rhona’s gaze. The beast’s chest heaved, and he growled, black teeth painted crimson. Then he began to splash towards them.
“Rhona, it’s not working,” Kai said in a defeated voice. She looked back to see where he pressed his hands into the Earth Core. Its broken shards lay unmoving, glowing dully. He’d replaced the Core sliver they had recovered from outside of the dungeon, slipping it into a gap at the core’s center. But the shivvered gem had an odd look, close up, almost as if it had somehow been melted after breaking.
None of its edges were sharp.
“I think it needs my… blood,” Kai could barely get out, his weakened body starting to shut down. “I can’t.”
Terrinore crashed towards them, limping from his grievous wound. Blood poured from his shoulder, enough to kill any lesser being, but the basilisk was infused with limitless power.
Rhona crossed back over to Kai in two steps.
She gripped his hand, then locking eyes with him for a moment, raised it to her mouth and bit deeply into his palm.
Kai screamed in shock and pain, but realization struck as Rhona moved his bloodied palm over the Earth Core. With one arm wrapped around his waist, her other pressed his wound against the blue star of energy that exploded beneath their woven hands.
42
Spilled Milk and Broken Toys
Bancroft
Twenty soldiers slept fitfully a short distance from Ban’s dungeon. Of all of his varied experiences, this was among the worst. Not only was he still wait
ing on a countdown to re-summon his champion, but even if the men waited that long—an unlikely prospect—he could not afford to shift his attention elsewhere.
The threat was here and now; his core was in danger, and nobody who loved him knew.
Ban fell to plotting. Since becoming Amber 3, Ban’s Monster Control Limit had increased. He added more minions where he thought they would do the most good, and fussed over his traps, but much of the rest of the night was relegated to the torturous act of waiting and worrying.
After a few hours, though, once fear had begun its insidious work on the Earth Core, Ban’s mind began to work more like a man’s. He eventually came up with an idea that enabled him to do more than simply cede control of the coming fight to his enemy, one that involved attack instead of defense.
He planned a raid.
Should I have any sort of success at all, and even if I shouldn’t, the soldiers will most likely attack me sooner, Ban thought. So, I’d better ensure that I don’t send too many minions out to their deaths as I won’t have time to recover them yet I also need to make this count.
Ban ordered several of his troops to gather in his first chamber. Four Monstrous Rats would serve as his grunts, as they were both cheap and easy to replace. Along with them, and to take advantage of the night over their heads, he summoned two Ether Bats. Finally, he sent an Amethyst Viper and a Viscous Fire Slime.
The slime was by far the slowest minion in the group, so as his raid party advanced, he held the greater part of it back, lurking in the shadows fifty strides from the soldiers’ camp.
A single guard stood watch, rubbing his eyes half the time and whistling a tune Ban recognized at once. It was a timeless classic and more fitting than the poor soldier knew.
Vixens, vixens, hide away.
Soldiers come and wolves do bay.
Make ‘em fall and make ‘em pay.
For the Bloody Band is out tonight!
A few moments later, the slime had glided up behind the guard, its liquid movement too quiet to detect. Ignoring the guard, it silently approached the sleeping men and women, just a simple-minded and predictable foe to kill, but one that packed a wallop.
Pittance, pittance, not enough.
Men grow bold and wives grow tough.
Push ‘em o’er and push ‘em rough.
For the Bloody Band is in the right!
The first scream came hot and loud, a desperate sound that drowned in a gargle as the slime covered the man’s face. A strange mixture of water and fire ether, the slime burned its victims and also drowned them if any were slow or stupid enough to let it.
Chaos exploded.
The camp broke into a fit of activity as every man and woman reached for their weapons. Ban’s Bloody Band tore down the hillside.
The Ether Bats blasted the guard with their screeching attacks, disorienting the one soldier ready and capable of fighting.
The rats wove between the still-rising sleepers and lunged for their exposed throats. Normally, the vermin would’ve been easy targets for experienced soldiers to defeat, but unarmed, unarmored, and still on the ground, the soldiers fell with alarming speed.
Three soldiers died after the first in quick succession and the rats searched for new targets. The slime was lapping at the leg of a woman who had thought the whole thing a vivid nightmare for one moment too long. She slashed at it with her belt dagger, but it sloshed over her belly, pinning her to the ground with its weight.
The woman screamed, the smell of her burning flesh filling the air like a fell incense.
The guard did manage to slash one of the Ether Bats from the sky, killing it with a single blow, but as the other bat continued to harass him, Ban’s Amethyst Viper, weaving swiftly through the grass, sank its fangs into the back of his leg. He fell, paralysis quickly taking over, and one of the rats finished him off.
More than a few of the soldiers were veterans though, so despite being taken off guard, two of the rats died in quick succession, daggers finding their gleaming eyes.
One woman fought in her small clothes, spear in hand.
She slashed open the slime repeatedly until it finally ceased moving, then spotted the third rat tearing a hole in another man’s leg.
She skewered it like a pig.
A full resistance was mounted at this point as training and discipline kicked in. The second Ether Bat was brought down and then the final monstrous rat.
Ban kept humming his song though, for one of his minions remained undiscovered by the living. At last, the viper struck another man, its fangs injecting the deadly poison in plenty of time to make the wound fatal.
Sword and spear ended the viper in moments, but the man fell, paralyzed. Without Ban alleviating the wound, as he had done for Kai, the man was doomed.
Six! Six down and fourteen to go. Not bad for a once-shivvered dungeon without his dragon! Ban exulted, and quickly absorbed the remains of his troops. He could still reuse the material, even if half their ether had been absorbed by the soldiers.
When the battlefield quieted, the soldiers stood and listened, making sure no more attacks were forthcoming.
And as Ban had predicted, the Sergeant flared up in a rage.
“It killed Bill and Forna!” The veteran soldier cursed up a storm. “Who in the bleeding southern sky was on guard? How many are wounded and who else has died? Get me a count, Freya!”
As the soldiers scrambled to do as their leader ordered, Ban discovered something new and quite interesting about himself.
He rather enjoyed a bit of violence.
Not reckless torment, mind you, but that was not what had been done this night. Even though he struck first, it was a righteous act, something only done because of the great peril he was in.
Another surprise, one that should have been obvious on second thought, was the veritable explosion of Progression that rushed into his core. He gained over 300 Progression from the six deaths, a tremendous tally by all accounts.
He had a feeling this number did not properly describe the potential pool of Progression sitting before his dungeon. Most of these soldiers were low ranked. The leader and a handful of others, however—the spear woman, for instance—were more than capable. If they fell, his next ascension would be a quick thing.
“Six, Sergeant! Six down. Gan was on watch, but he’s also one of those we lost. Then there’s Bill and Forna, as you said, and along with them, we lost Claire, Wilby, and Shemiah,” Freya reported.
It was the young woman who had spoken up at the previous night’s fire. Ban figured she might be Sergeant Pines’ second-in-command. Her face was lovely to look upon, raven-black hair and pale skin, yet her chin was strong enough to grant her an air of natural authority. It’s going to be a pity to kill her, Ban admitted regretfully.
Pines fumed. His soldiers had been ambushed, and Ban could see he felt both guilty and responsible for their deaths. Yet the soldier was vain, as so many are, and wanted little more than revenge at the moment.
Then Roarke spoke, his voice low and filled with false respect. “Sergeant, I’m so sorry. This dungeon is vile. That’s why I pushed so hard for us to break its core. Naught but evil can come of this place.” So convincing was his tone that the Sergeant did not respond in anger, as Ban thought he might.
Instead, Pines nodded solemnly, like a man approving of a sermon. “Yes, Roarke. You’re young, but in this instance, you were in the right.” His eyes flashed in the flickering light of torches a few of the soldiers had lit. “We march on this dungeon,” the leader ordered. “And we march now. I want everyone ready for battle in ten minutes. Third scout patrol will shivver a dungeon tonight!”
The soldiers cheered, angry for having been set upon in their sleep, as well as for the loss of their fellows. In five minutes, they were all standing silent, equipped and ready for orders.
“Follow my lead, everyone,” Sergeant Pines barked as the soldiers trudged up the hill. “Stay close, keep your bloody eyes open, and most important, i
f it isn’t one of the Vermillion Guard, kill it! Let’s go!”
Ban’s emotions roiled, ranging from curious excitement to cold dread. Now or never. If only Kai were here, I would feel a good deal more comfortable, but then he would be in danger as well.
The soldiers entered the dungeon, orange torchlight reflecting dully off of their swords and spears.
They filed into the first room, one by one, and Ban held back his minions for an opportune moment. The room was not very big, however, so the soldier in the lead soon noticed the rats crouching in the corners.
The beasts rushed in, hoping to sink their teeth into a leg or ankle, but the men were quicker and four rats died quickly. Only one of the spearmen was wounded in the process.
Ban’s frail hope that the viper might sink its fangs into one of his foes shattered when Pines side-stepped its attack easily and swiped off its head. The room was empty now and the soldiers chuckled darkly, their confidence growing.
Ban had a chuckle of his own, though, when one of them fell through his floor trap. He was lucky that Roarke was near enough to catch him by the arm. Instead of falling sideways onto the spikes that awaited him like the dungeon had hoped to see, the spearman’s ankle twisted nastily.
Oh well. Let them feel proud. There’ll be more surprises soon. And if Ban had hands, he knew he would be rubbing them together maliciously.
As the soldiers entered the second room, forced to file in one at a time, thanks to Ban’s restrictive doorways, he ordered his minions to strike at once.
His Ether Bats dove in the faces of the first three invaders. One bat fell dead from a deft stab with a spear, but the other two dodged similar attacks, screeching painful blasts of ether in the soldiers’ faces.
A couple of fire slimes attached themselves to the legs of a spearman and a bold woman with two short swords in her hands.
