“Yes, boss,” said Stinger and grabbed his daggers, blades shimmering poisonous green.
We decided to move quickly in order to get as far away as possible from the entrance in case the Demons send someone after us once those two hours are up. Better to be safe than sorry and all that. Alas, we couldn’t move as quickly we would’ve wanted. Before storming the Citadel, Dions had passed through this place and cleared it. And since this happened no less than ten hours ago — Stinger and I did observe them attack the Citadel this afternoon — the mobs had respawned and fighting them was no easy task.
It was no surprise then that after two long hours full of fierce battles and short respites, we haven’t made much progress. We were all pretty exhausted, both physically and mentally. However, during this time, I managed to make some progress with my Population Control quests and even get some new ones. And we were somewhere near the Citadel’s defense zone. So at least we had that going for us.
The first telltale sign that let us know that we were close were the marble halls.
The one before which we stopped was almost no different from the two previous ones. The darkness in the hall reluctantly retreated under Tinnie’s radiant light that allowed us to better examine our surroundings. It was unclear what the original purpose of this hall was, but all we could now see was a spacious, ten by ten feet square, the walls of which were lined with rough greenish marble. Two rows of columns that once supported the dome had collapsed completely, their remains protruded from the rubble like a monstrous teeth, making us wonder how the massive arch hadn’t collapsed yet. All we could do was hope that that won’t happen now. We still entered every such hall with caution, and not only because we feared that it could all collapse at any second, but also because we knew from personal experience that places like these were often inhabited by elites — strong and dangerous creatures, several times stronger than ordinary mobs. It was good that they didn’t tolerate other mobs and thus lived in proud solitude, making it easier to cope with them than with groups of three to five mobs, which, in terms of joint capabilities, weren’t inferior to such monsters.
Marana turned out to be a miracle potentially sent by Alan himself. Thanks to her abilities, the mobs remained neutral until she engaged them in battle, which partly explained how she managed to survive while she was looking for me, guided by my connection with the pipe. Mobs simply didn’t touch her. And we used this to our advantage.
Marana entered the hall first to find herself a good spot for fighting. She carefully stepped around the largest pieces of debris as she did so, the clatter of her hooves muffled by the dusty floor.
“This one is also yours,” Stinger mouthed, as some of the local mobs were sound sensitive.
I nodded.
We had tested and worked out our tactics on the first couple of enemies, and were convinced that we could handle smaller groups of mobs. After several victories, we became bolder and decided to, if possible, save up the XP for me, since our future progress depended mostly on my abilities. Stinger vigilantly and skillfully kept the aggro on himself, not allowing the mobs to attack anyone else, and Marana, with her even more powerful group control skills, intervened only in critical moments, diverting or finishing off those who slipped past Stinger. I had to use Tinnie’s magical pollen from time to time, whenever there were more than five mobs grouped together. Individual enemies made excellent targets for Soulcatcher, which became a truly formidable and destructive force. None of my companions had anything similar. Also, taking into account my level 17, all the modifiers and the newly acquired Flame, whose physical stats were three times higher than those of a miserable dagger, Soulcatcher now dealt three thousand points of damage, the most of which passed through enemies and their armor despite the difference in levels. And this was all without the mysterious boost, the nature of which I was yet to figure out. Of course, I had to thank the others for Soulcatcher’s return to its former glory; without them I wouldn’t have survived in this lair long enough to see it happen. I didn’t have to rush at the enemies as I did in previous lairs; Stinger held them, and I hit them without taking damage. It was wonderful.
The HP of mobs in this lair, though higher than those of the common creatures, still lasted for mere seconds. They would drop dead before they’d even manage to cause any harm. I should note that with the original party, with Chula and Mashta, but without Marana and Stinger, we wouldn’t have lasted this long. No matter how strong Soulcatcher was, it couldn’t destroy more than one creature at a time, and the minute long cooldown would force us to use spells and steel once more.
Mashta’s mood changed noticeably. She had cheered up and was no longer looking sullenly at me, having accepted her fate and trying as much as she could to help by giving advice, and slinging projectiles at mobs. She understood why my XP was so important. Rawrk, simple man as he was, was eager to fight. Conversations and conventions were of no interest to him, and he had to be constantly held back so that he wouldn’t rush into battle first.
Tinnie followed Marana into the hall, dispersing the darkness with her bright light. She stayed near the Succubus, illuminating the scene of the upcoming battle from a safe distance. The mobs rarely reacted to her; in most cases, pet support didn’t cause the slightest aggression. It has been a while since the last time we had to use Tinnie’s pollen.
I had to remember to thank Stinger for taking Tinnie with him. Killing so many high-leveled mobs resulted in gaining a bunch of XP for our entire party, as well as two dozen ordinary escs and a couple of Elite escs, too. There was enough fuel for Soulcatcher and for Tinnie who, not having to worry about spending her energy, saved us from searching for torches and other light sources. She shone brightly, earning herself additional XP and leveling Firefly further.
Also, one of the Amplifiers was finally put to use. Inserted into Flame’s hilt instead of the usual esc, it increased my strength by 10 points. A bluish glow was added to the ghostly yellowish one, stirring in waves along the edge of the blade. It looked beautiful. Unfortunately, the rest of the amps couldn’t be used as no one else had weapons or gear with slots. Hell, Marana had nothing on her, which was a problem in itself. Her naked body distracted everyone. But nothing could be done about that as her appearance was her weapon. She had the strongest control over groups of mobs, with Tinnie’s Enchantress coming in second. Whether the Succubus would agree to wear something just so that she’d look decent was another question. I was afraid that such a proposal could only offend her deeply, which wouldn’t be good for anyone. Looking away from her was hard, weather she was clothed or not.
As soon as Stinger ran into the hall, the debris in the center began to stir. At first I thought that some creature was about to crawl out from under them, but the debris itself turned out to be our opponent.
Stone Guard
Level 22
HP: 5,000
Chapter 52
A golem, huh? That’s new.
In just a few seconds, the space around the enemy was clear of debris, as if it were all sucked up by a vacuum cleaner. Rocks of various sizes formed a human-like figure, and the ten feet high giant appeared in the center of the hall. From its body sprouted massive arms and legs. Facing the ceiling with a large piece of a column, which served as its head, the golem froze, as if assessing the situation. In the center of its torso, through a cluster of rock held together by magic, something shone with a reddish glow. Any creature, even an invincible one, had a weak spot; figuring its weakness didn’t take long.
Looking at it, Tinnie squeaked sadly, even Marana stared at it with obvious displeasure. Both of them were painfully aware of the fact that their controlling abilities would be of no use in this battle. The golem had no eyes and no brains; it could be neither dazzled nor charmed. Fury snorted, no less vexed — the target wasn’t suitable for her sting.
Not giving the enemy any time to think, Stinger slammed its torso with Provocation from a distance of five feet. By appearance, his ability resembled S
oulcatcher — a ghostly blue fist flew through the air, showering sparks when it hit its target. The only effect of this ability was to draw the enemy’s attention to the attacker for a few seconds. With the rattling sound of rocks rubbing against each other, the golem rushed at Stinger, scattering dust around itself.
“Here we go!” Stinger shouted, spinning round the monster like a dervish.
I went in right after him, but, as I suspected, Lash of Pain had no effect on the golem. After all, it had no nervous system. With an equally bad gut feeling, I tried to activate Soulcatcher, but that didn’t work either. This creature was neither alive nor dead. This was the first time that this skill misfired, but I didn’t let myself waste precious seconds in confusion. Although the golem seemed slow, Stinger barely had time to dodge its attacks. To try to parry such blows was to sign your own death sentence, so he had spin around it.
Flamespear hit the center of the golem’s torso. Hissing and roaring, it knocked out several melted stone fragments that scattered around the hall and noisily bounced off the walls like shrapnel. The golem’s HP bar sank by a hundred points. That’s more like it! And although other rocks moved to close up the “wound,” the rocky shield covering the core became noticeably thinner. Damage has been dealt, and its weak spot was weakened even further, which meant that regular strikes, enhanced by magic, would also be effective.
“It’s all yours!” I shouted to the rest of the party, who hadn’t yet joined the battle. “Strike its core!”
“And be quick about it!” Stinger barked, dodging another swing. The golem had almost cornered him; debris rained over the rogue when the stone hand missed and hit the wall with a deafening roar.
Realizing what was happening, the party got down to business. Mashta released her sling with a daring cry, piercing the shield spinning in front of the golem’s core with a crashing sound. Marana’s tail lashed forward with a metallic ring, knocking out a whole bunch of stones. Rawrk, who didn’t have any ranged abilities, had nothing to do, so he observed at the fight with powerless anger, convulsively squeezing the hilts of his weapons. I hoped that he would get ranged skills in the near future; otherwise he would have to continue standing idle in these situations. There were no classes that weren’t capable of inflicting at least some damage on any opponent, the problem was usually in skill development. I also didn’t allow Fury to join the battle, but even without her and the Raksh, the fight didn’t last longer than a minute. My fire, Mastha’s enchanted projectiles, and Marana’s dagger-like tail mercilessly tore the core apart. The golem collapsed into a heap of lifeless stone, seemingly leaving nothing valuable behind. However, dispelling the debris, Stinger found loot. Since Soulcatcher always used the strongest escs from my reserves by default, I took some of them for myself, and instructed Stinger to collect Elite Essence Crystals, so called “e-escs,” to be used as ingredients for Tinnie’s recipes.
The usual system report was accompanied by a flash of light that enveloped Mashta and Rawrk. Their levels rose to 19 and 17 respectively.
The rest, including myself, had leveled up a few groups of mobs earlier. Fury caught up with me, and now we were both level 17. Her increased XP growth rate, which began at level 1, accumulated more and more XP, and she would soon surpass me. Tinnie’s icon proudly showed level 15. Only Marana and Stinger remained the same level. Our tank was having a tough time reaching level 23 for which he needed almost three hundred and fifty thousand XP; one would have to clear at least a dozen lairs just to get near this amount. The higher your current level, the harder it is to advance to the next one, which was why Dalrokts spent socs to revive those who had reached levels 25+. These fighters were no longer expendable.
“Halt,” I ordered. “Take ten. Those who need to take care of their stats, do it now. I’ll do the same.”
Having found a not too angular fragment of a column, I sat on it. Grimacing, I rubbed my aching biceps over the jacket. The Sign would always respond with pain during every skirmish. As they say: “if you cannot change the situation, change your attitude towards it.” So I treated the pain almost philosophically. If it hurt, it meant that I was still alive, and I could continue to improve my skills. Though if I continue thinking like that, I might start to get perverse pleasure from pain and turn into a masochist. I hoped to avoid that.
Having received the order, Rawrk immediately planted his furry ass on the dusty floor and started to ponder. Morana remained standing, not taking her reddish eyes off me. It seemed that she didn’t require any rest at all. But I could be wrong. Her monstrous life, one so different from ours, could’ve simply made her much more durable than us. But her endurance was hardly infinite, and sooner or later she would require rest. I have come to peace with the fact that she’d keep staring at me so long as I have that divine pipe that was the focus her attention. Mashta, instead of resting, went wandering around the hall, looking among the ruins for stones suitable for her sling. She had long ran out of her quality projectiles; Racial Trick often destroyed the projectiles and she was lucky if any survived the battle. Stinger also didn’t rest. He approached the wall, where a round yellow tile depicting a fist with a forefinger exposed was engraved into green marble, and carefully traced it with his finger. He tried to level up his profession every chance he got, searching for hidden caches, mechanisms, or precious gemstones.
“Still going doing it your way, huh?” Mashta chuckled, noticing his efforts. Finding a marble fragment the size of a hen’s egg, she tossed it a couple of times, assessing its stats, and hid it in her pocket. “It won’t work, I told you.”
“Don’t interfere,” Stinger grumbled without turning around.
We saw the same bas-reliefs in the previous two rooms. To Stinger, with his rank 4 Prospector, and Tinnie with her rank 3 Awareness, they were highlighted yellow and looked like a pair owl eyes the size of two human palms against the dark background of the wall. But no matter how much we experimented, nothing came of it. We pressed them in different places and in different sequences, and even tried to rotate them, but to no avail. The bas-relief tiles sat tight in their recesses. Maybe it was important, maybe it was a red herring; we didn’t know. But it would be great if we could open a cache and find some cool items, as we still had no decent loot other than the Crystals. I remembered how Tinnie found valuables in the Destroyer’s Dungeon back in the sandbox, and how that had helped my past party. My Gathering, which was still rank 2 and half way to rank 3, barely got me anything. Even the Demons in my first lair dropped hides and horns, and here — nothing!
Mashta and Marana were well aware of these bas-reliefs, but it remained a mystery to them as well.
“Nothing again,” Stinger sighed with annoyance, acknowledging defeat. “Maybe you need Prospector rank 5 for these gizmos?”
“I doubt it,” I disagreed. “Obtaining rank 5 at this location is beyond reason. Where would you get a hundred extra skill points? No, this problem, if it’s solvable at all, has to have an easier solution.”
“Well, you think of something if you’re so clever,” the tank grinned, seated himself on the fragment of the column, too, and took a sip of the potion. “You’re the one with high Cunning, after all. You’re the special one, anyway, so you give it a go.”
I just grunted in response.
A quick survey revealed an interesting thing about Cunning. None of my companions had such a characteristic. The system awarded Stinger with Fortitude, that is, increased defense, and Persistence, which meant that he had increased stamina, so he looked fresh even after two hours of fighting, as if he had just arrived from a vacation. Mashta, like the rest of the Lowlings, got Racial Trick and Stealth upon her arrival. Rawrk didn’t understand what I was asking him, and the Succubus couldn’t answer, or didn’t want to, and only smiled mockingly, showing off her sharp white teeth.
“Any changes with the clan, by the way?” Stinger asked, raising his eyebrows questioningly.
“Give me a second.”
I checked out the
list of clan skills, which doubled when our clan reached level 2 some twenty minutes ago.
Aura of Maturity
Rank 1 (0/1)
Clan members gain 5% more combat XP.
Recalculation
Rank 1 (0/1)
1% of players’ XP is redistributed toward clan progress.
Voice chat
Rank 1 (0/1)
Clan chat that allows long distance communication.
Range: no more than a mile
Only Voice Chat had changed. Apparently, unrelated to the rank of the skill, each new clan level automatically increased the communication distance by half a mile. Once the clan levels up, we’ll find out whether or not my guess is true. The following three abilities were new and not very impressive at the moment, but could prove very interesting in the long run. In any case, they were much better than nothing.
Good Luck
Rank 1 (0/1)
Chance to get loot from monsters is increased by 3%.
Bloodlust
Rank 1 (0/1)
Killing an enemy heals the player by 15% of their maximum HP for 10 seconds.
Cooldown: 1 hour
Banner of Protection
Rank 1 (0/1)
Increases party or raid members’ defense by 5% for 20 seconds.
Range: 16 feet radius from the activation point
Cost: 1 Essence Crystal
Cooldown: 1 hour
And that was all. Another attempt to invest at least a couple more points still failed.
“That’s all for now,” I sighed in distress. “I suspect that it’ll be possible to raise the ranks once we level up the clan. Alan the Dark knows when that’ll happen though. By the way, I didn’t appoint you as second in command for nothing; you could periodically check it yourself.”
Keymaster Page 37
