Dungeon Lord (The Wraith's Haunt - A litRPG series Book 1)

by Hugo Huesca

  His next shot missed. Ioan resumed moving normally, and began to load yet another arrow.

  Ed found Lavy, made eye contact, and told her, “Get him near that hole in the ground.”

  It was his last hope. As a Dungeon Lord, he could feel the blueprint of his dungeon at all times if he was near it. The hole he was looking at was connected to the main tunnel, the one his drones had created to reach the governor’s house so they could build his Seat under all that handy wood.

  The same tunnel where something was eating all his drones.

  “Enough!” roared Ioan. “Enough! You all die here. Not a step farther, Kes! You can’t block an explosive arrow!”

  His arrow was empowered by the red stream of rending magic that Ed had seen in the forest. The Ranger aimed his bow at him.

  “Drop it,” Ed said. His veins vibrated as his power spent itself. Deep inside his brain, there was a struggle against Ioan’s will, briefly, at the speed of thought.

  “You think you can give orders from your position? Oh, by the gods, I’m truly going to enjoy seeing your body break.” The Ranger laughed, and then released his fingers from his bowstring.

  The bow sprang, but the only thing that it shot was air.

  “What?” Ioan looked down at his feet where his Explosive Arrow lay. He looked up at Ed with rage and fear freezing the muscles of his face. “Control magic?”

  “Just a minor order,” Ed told him. “Nothing special.”

  The Dungeon Lord had hoped that the arrow would explode after it fell. He had kept his spell hidden from Ioan with the idea that the Ranger would kill himself with his own ability. Apparently, Objectivity had some friendly fire protection built in, at least for Ioan.

  It was time for plan B.

  “Now, Lavy!”

  “Witch spray!”

  Three fiery spheres projected themselves through the air in Ioan’s direction. The Ranger’s speed shot up once more, and he jumped back much faster than the orbs could react. The magic followed him, but he drew his scimitars in a flash of metal and cut down the spell midair with ease.

  Ioan’s smile grew frantic. Blood was streaming down his nose and into his mouth, staining his teeth red.

  Kes’ charge reached him, then, and her longsword and his curved blade clashed so hard Ed was sure both of them would break. They did. There was a noise like glass being crushed, and both weapons bent down their middle like they were made out of butter and not metal.

  Ioan screamed incoherently, and he let go of his now useless sword. His arm hung by his side, paralyzed.

  Kes, on the other hand, had been expecting the impact. She let go of her bent sword and kicked Ioan square in the chest, all her weight behind it, hard enough to send the man stumbling backward.

  Ed saw Ioan’s stunned expression, the trickle of bloodied saliva flowing down his chin, his arms flailing about. Then he stumbled into the tunnel’s hole and disappeared without so much as a noise.

  The Dungeon Lord exhaled loudly. His lungs felt like they were about to burst from the effort. He swore right there that the next thing he would do, if he survived the day, would be to get into shape.

  He stood up, dusted himself off, helped Alder back to his feet, then hurried to see if Klek was still alive.

  “What’s down there? Some sort of trap?” Lavy asked him while he moved.

  “I hope so!”

  Ed reached the batblin’s body. Klek was breathing, and when Ed turned him belly-up, Klek’s eyes opened weakly. His bat-like nose was broken, and his lips were bloodied, but he smiled weakly at the Dungeon Lord.

  “I earned so much experience for that.”

  “Are you okay?” Ed asked. He knew the batblin could be bleeding internally. He also knew he lacked the knowledge, or the tools, to do anything about it.

  The batblin shrugged. Then, his smile vanished, and he said, “I can hear it coming up. Careful, Lord Edward.”

  Ed, who lacked the batblin’s echolocation, heard it just seconds later. Claws raking against rock and soil.

  “Get ready!” Ed yelled as he rushed for the spot where he had left his sword. “Don’t get near it!”

  “What?!” Kes screamed. Then she heard it too.

  And then they all saw it.

  The mindbrood erupted out of the hole like a cannonball, its exoskeleton covered in viscera and blood, its claws glinting in the midday sun. It landed just a few feet away from Kes, who jumped away by sheer instinct.

  The Bane carried something bloodied, square, and meaty in its first pair of arms. It left the thing fall to the floor, and only then Edward did recognize it. Ioan’s torso, his torn leather armor, and his mauled head so broken it was almost unrecognizable. Almost. His remaining eye stared at Ed, accusingly.

  “I heard you!” the Bane shrieked at the mauled corpse, and drove a claw through the head, piercing it like a melon. “I HEARD YOU! You did this to me!”

  The monster stabbed the head again, and again. Even Kes had to look away. The mindbrood didn’t stop screaming at it.

  “I ate my parents! BECAUSE OF YOU! You turned me into this! You did it! You did it! You!”

  Lavy reached Ed and put a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. The Witch was pale, and dirt-infused tears were flowing down her face. “It’s brutal, Edward. She’s suffering…she doesn’t realize what she is. She was too young to understand.”

  Ed tried to answer, but there was a knot in his throat. Words failed him.

  It was Laurel, the spider Queen, the natural enemy of the Bane, who put into words what they were all thinking.

  “We have to end its suffering.”

  At that, the mindbrood stopped its attack on the corpse and looked at them. There were pieces of skull lodged in its jaws. Somewhere behind Ed, Alder retched.

  “You are adventurers,” the monster told them with the voice of a little girl. “You have magic, don’t you? Fix me! Please! Please, I don’t want to be like this anymore! Make it stop!”

  “Gods have mercy,” Kes whispered. Her face had the complexion of wax about to melt, and her breathing was short and fast. “Oh, gods, it’s just a little girl…”

  Not anymore, thought Ed, who felt like the horror was now a part of him, that he would never stop shaking, even if he survived the day. He glanced at the mindbrood’s back, at the exposed brain-tissue. No, she’s not human anymore. But she doesn’t know it.

  “Hurry!” the monster bellowed, and begged, and her arms gestured as if groveling. The result was grotesque, sickening. “I am hungry again. I’m so hungry, all the time, even after I just ate, I can’t stop it. I don’t want to be a grown up anymore!”

  Ed forced his fear and his disgust down, away from him. If he let himself be paralyzed, if he let the mindbrood get away, he would be condemning whatever remained of that girl’s mind to a lifetime of horror.

  He willed his heart to beat steadier. His hands to stop shaking. The Evil Eye flared and he raised his sword.

  “Don’t you worry,” he told the mindbrood. He walked toward it. “I’ll fix you. Don’t be scared.”

  “What are you doing?” the Bane asked him. It eyed the sword with mistrust, and its body tensed, ready to jump. “Stay away! I will hurt you!”

  Maybe it would, easily. Ed couldn’t see its stats—they were protected by the same magic that had hidden Kharon’s.

  “Eldritch edge,” he said, and his sword was enveloped in dark green flames. There was emptiness in the intangible part of his body that controlled his magic. That had been his last spell of the day, so he needed to make it count.

  “What’s that?” asked the brood.

  “Magic,” Ed said. Even keeping his voice steady was a tremendous effort.

  “I want to eat you,” it told him. “The urge is…so strong…”

  “Careful, Ed,” said Kes, but Ed gestured at her to stay away. If anyone else approached the Bane, he had little doubt it would attack, or run away and hide.

  “Can you resist it?” Ed asked the
Bane. How much was left of that girl? Doubt gnawed him. Laurel was a giant spider, and she had become his minion. Perhaps this little creature could—

  “Yes!” the Bane roared, spitting pieces of skull in all directions. “I can! But I don’t want to!”

  Its hind legs propelled it at terrible speed in Ed’s direction, claws at the ready, bloody fangs bared.

  “Now!” Ed exclaimed, lowering his flaming sword, ready to hold his ground.

  A drone’s terrified head appeared over the Bane. The drone clung to the monster’s back with one hand and all its tiny strength. The other hand was raised above its head, fingers closed around Ioan’s magic-infused arrow.

  The Bane stopped in its tracks, digging its many pairs of claws into the ground and showering slivers of rock everywhere. It roared, and raised its long arms to grab at the drone—

  The drone pushed the arrow into the brain-tissue of the monster’s back.

  The explosion followed instantly. It was loud, and bright, strong enough to unsummon the drone and make the Bane’s back erupt in a cloud of torn tissue, blood, and exoskeleton.

  Ed was already rushing at the creature before it had time to fall.

  The mindbrood howled in pain, blood flowing like a river out of its snout. Ed saw himself reflected in the creature’s soulless eyes.

  No, that was not a little girl. But that was no excuse to prolong its suffering.

  He ducked away from the mindbrood’s weak slash, held his sword in front of his chest with both hands, and jumped at the creature’s head.

  “Die!”

  The unholy sword hit the snout’s side, left a long gash, slid into the creature’s open maw, and Ed’s weight pushed the blade into the terrible head all the way down to the hilt.

  The Dungeon Lord fell hard, rolled away from the thrashing monster, jumped to his feet, and watched the flames of his blade spread around the mindbrood’s head. The brood’s exoskeleton crackled and darkened like burnt plastic under the eldritch fire.

  Please be dead, please be dead, if he had to listen to that voice dying in agony, he was sure he would go mad.

  Instead, the mindbrood raised a hand to the hilt protruding out of its mouth, tugged at it blindly while the heat cooked its eyes, and collapsed to the ground, dead.

  Ed exhaled, and turned his gaze up. The fire was dying across Burrova, Hoia wasn’t burning, and the giant clouds of dark smoke atop the village were being dispersed by the wind of Starevos. For the first time since he had arrived in Ivalis, Ed welcomed the cold breeze as it flowed around his body.

  It was done.

  The green flames cast a multitude of shadows as they spread all over the body and slowly devoured it. The smell was sickening.

  Ed turned away from the visage, holding his breath as best as he could. His friends were already rushing at him, including Klek, who was clutching at his bruised belly, and Laurel, who was unhurt and feeling quite smug.

  The spider Queen was the first to greet him, and then she left to resume her…ritual devouring of her dead mother.

  Best not to think about it too much, Ed thought.

  “Are you alive?” Alder asked him. The Bard was clinging to the cut in his neck with both hands, like he was still unsure the knife had missed his jugular. “I thought it had disemboweled you!”

  Kes gave him a look, nodded, and went to make sure the Bane was really dead. Ed heard her work behind him, but he decided that was not an image he needed in his head, and didn’t look back.

  “It was a close call,” he told the Bard.

  “You idiot,” Lavy said, “Kes could have handled it—there was no need to risk your life like that!”

  “It would have run from Kes,” he told her with a tired smile, “like it did from Gallio. It thought I was easy prey, that’s why I could kill it.”

  “You could kill it because it didn’t realize there was a drone clinging to its back,” the Witch said. Apparently, Lavy wasn’t the kind of woman who would cry and rush to hug and kiss the hero after battle. “How did that happen?”

  “I ordered the drone to jump straight to the brain tissue,” Ed said. “In my world, people know the brain has no nerves…no feeling, that is. I had hoped the brood worked the same, and took the risk.”

  “Alita’s fucking tits,” Alder muttered, staring at Ed, his eyes wide.

  “What he said,” said Lavy. Then she smiled at him. Even through the layer of dirt, ash, blood, and grime, she was quite the attractive young woman. “I can’t believe we are still alive.”

  “Yes,” Ed agreed, and flashed her a grin, “we are alive. We won the day.”

  “Not only that,” Klek smiled, still clearly in pain, “we have a new dungeon, and more troops. And I just passed Drusb’s experience points.”

  The batblin looked so pleased with himself it was hard not to laugh. But Kes’ voice sounded behind Ed and drove his elation away.

  “It’s not over, yet. We still have to deal with him.”

  The Dungeon Lord followed Kes’ gaze, and cursed himself for forgetting—

  Gallio, the reborn Inquisitor, was standing in the middle of the market’s main street, covered in blue blood. His eyes shone with a white light as if on fire. His gaze was fixed upon Ed, who could almost feel the heat exuding out of it, like a furnace.

  26

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The Inquisitor

  Without a word, the Inquisitor walked slowly toward Ed’s group.

  “We don’t have to fight,” Ed told him as he approached, “the Bane is dead.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that,” said Gallio.

  He stood in front of the burning corpse, looking at it with disgust, the way a person might look at meat gone bad. Kes and Ed remained where they stood, but Alder and Lavy, who knew of the Inquisition’s reputation, kept their distance.

  After a while, he walked away from the corpse and examined the battlefield. He found Ioan’s remains, and nudged them with his boot. He seemed to recognize the Ranger’s cowl, because he turned to Ed and said:

  “What’s Ioan doing here?”

  “He started all this. No idea how he got the brood’s egg, but he wanted to blame Lotia for it—make Heiliges go to war with them. To make Starevos independent, and himself a martyr.”

  “That’s some story,” Gallio said calmly. “How do I know you’re not making this up?”

  Ed shrugged. He kept the man’s gaze, and both of them just stood there, glaring at each other.

  “Where are the villagers?” he asked.

  “Alive,” Ed said, “and I’ll release them as soon as possible. Amphiris is dead, and the spiders are under my command. They won’t harm Burrova again.”

  “On that, we agree.” Gallio’s burning gaze set on Laurel, who was calmly munching on her mother and ignoring the Inquisitor.

  Ed clenched his teeth. He and his friends were in no position for another round of combat, but Gallio didn’t seem to be faring much better. He was covered in bites and scratches all over, his red blood mixed with that of the spiders, though the venom didn’t seem to be having much effect on him.

  “They were chasing the Bane, just as much as we were,” Ed said. “Yes, they destroyed the village. But the people are alive, and thanks to the spiders no one is infected. I don’t have to pact with anyone to confirm it. Look at the body! It’s too young to lay eggs.”

  “The spiders were going to eat my people.”

  “And you were going to kill them,” Ed reminded him. “Maybe you still are. What are the Inquisitions’ rules?”

  Gallio’s burning eyes disappeared and were replaced by a tired, pale blue glance at Ed.

  “They’ll kill everyone. The risk is too great.”

  “And you will just let them?” asked Kes, scowling at him. “Was that how you earned your powers again, by swearing to be the Inquisition’s dog?”

  Gallio shook his head. “I swore allegiance to the Light. It was my fault this happened in the first place. I wasn’t stro
ng enough. Now I am. I’ll serve Alita’s wishes as long as I am alive. I’ll do whatever she asks of me. So something like this never happens again.”

  “You sicken me,” Kes told him. “A god who keeps slaves is as bad as the Dark, and you offered yourself to her willingly.”

  “Kes, don’t make him angry!” Alder exclaimed from afar.

  The Inquisitor was about to answer Kes, when Ed interrupted him:

  “What does Alita ask of you, now?”

  That was the only question that mattered, after all.

  Gallio didn’t need much time to think through his answer, “That I do my duty.”

  Kes’ hand hovered over her knife, but Ed gestured at her to wait.

  “I see,” he told Gallio, with a smile. “Well then, you should get to it.”

  Gallio nodded, and exhaled. He appeared as tired as Ed and his friends. The lines of his face added decades to his age.

  “What will you do with them?” he asked Ed. “With my people.”

  “I’ll release them as soon as they’ve recovered,” he said. “I’ll drop them off in the neighboring villages and have them pretend they weren’t in Burrova during the attack. Not everyone was here today, right? Not all the farmers come daily to the market.”

  Gallio nodded. “It could work, if they keep their mouths shut. But the Inquisition might purge the surrounding villages, just in case.”

  “Well,” said Ed, “that depends on what you tell them.”

  Gallio raised an eyebrow at him. “What do you have in mind?”

  “How about this? There was this young Dungeon Lord who got manipulated by the Dark. He released a mindbrood, but you and the heroic Rangers of Burrova managed to defeat the monster before the Lord’s plan was ready. Ioan gave his life in the process of stopping him, and Alvedhra barely survived a fight with the Lord’s spider minions.”

  The Sheriff smile was genuine. “Yes, that may work. But where does that leave you?”