Anima: A Divine Dungeon Series (Artorian's Archives Book 6)

by Dennis Vanderkerken

  That was so dumb, Ghreziz simply couldn’t help himself. He doubled over as his arms and torso doubled in muscle mass. He looked like a strongman who had always skipped leg day. He was laughing so loud, the soot around his feet was forced away with every emanation. Ghreziz was in a crater a mere half minute later, just enjoying the idiocy of it all as he watched the youth enter the silliest poses.

  Consternation and constipation crossed his foe’s face. Artorian was just trying so hard to do something he hadn’t the slightest clue how to commence, and that tickled the demon pink. “Don’t you laugh at me! I will figure this out!”

  Artorian’s tone was serious, but his actions only turned ever more dramatic. The antics amused the demon greatly, as suffering and grunts freely fell from his beaten foe. Free entertainment! The best thing to have when it came to killing eternity. “Not like that, you whinging fool. Like this.”

  Ghreziz stretched his hand out before him, and grinned with delight when the youth stopped to pay attention. As if Artorian could discern the dark, deep nuances that this technique required. The Mage stopped on a copper, his dramatic exposure having bought him some time. As a minor bonus, he had a front row seat to the mechanics of demon summoning. The guttural voice spoke proud, fully expecting the youth to be unable to follow. “Summoning is like fishing. You bait a lure, attach a wire, and toss… The quality of your bait will determine what you can catch. The tastier the treat, the bigger the fish that comes to have a peek. You want an Incarnate demon? Better offer Incarnate energy. You want the Dragon of the Darkness Flame? Better have tasty Mana!”

  Artorian did not like that Ghreziz knew about Dragons. Hopefully he was referring to a different creature entirely? Surely what Bob had made for him didn’t exist beforehand. Surely.

  Thin, lime green and tarry onyx lines descended from Ghreziz’s clawed fingers. Rather than dig into the soot, they vanished mid-way down to the ground. The truth did not remain hidden from Artorian. Those fishing wires went to the Between! From there, they followed a process similar to teleportation. The infernal Essence bait brushed against the border realm of the infernal wavelength, and just like that, five lesser demons were pulled free from the Abyss. Crackers.

  Four C-ranked and one B-ranked demon formed from the droplets that fell from Ghreziz’s claws. Their bodies broke and popped upon manifestation, and only the B-ranker rose to weakly stand upon the soot. The C-rankers all died as the pressure of Hel had enough of an effect on them to quash them outright. Hadn’t that been fixed? No matter. Artorian was glad for the boon right now. Even one extra demon to contend with was a nightmare. He was the one that needed backup!

  With a howling screech, four demons perished. Death by gravity.

  Fortunately for them, they were unable to return to the abyss. Cal’s Soul Space was a one-way trip while the chains were on, and the four demons were stored in memory Cores. That those memory Cores began to pulse an ominous green was likely unimportant.

  “That’s it?” Artorian sounded a little disappointed. He’d figured the process of summoning to be one of vast complications. Yet it was just… that easy? Throw some Mana at another layer and hope something bites? “That’s all it takes to summon something? It can’t be that easy. What else did you do? You didn’t even try to skew your Mana’s intent.”

  Ghreziz raised a brow, and the surviving B-ranked demon dropped to a knee next to him when realizing just who it was that had called upon a lesser. The savant spoke with amusement. “Easy? More entertainment in the form of some joke I’m too powerful to understand? The act of drawing from beyond is art. You can’t just throw a line in and expect something will bite. Easy? Ha! Prove it.”

  The lesser demon was used as a seat, and Ghreziz lounged, indulging in the oppression of another. He laced his infernally empowered claws as they danced with ignoble green light, and watched the show with relish. Everyone failed the first time, and he couldn’t wait to see the pillow Mage abyss this up.

  He observed a youthful Artorian push his amateur sleeves up. “Fine!”

  Artorian had bought the time he’d needed. The ground had responded to his earlier stomping, and a ripple returned from far away. Just a little longer. He just needed to stall a little longer. Since he had a play to perform, there was no reason he couldn’t go ahead and milk this for all it was worth. Extending his hand, he formed the tethers easily enough. Fishing wasn’t his strong suit, but he’d seen an example. That was enough.

  How did Mana go to the Between? He considered it, and much like every other time he tried something like this, he just formed the identity to match the intent. His lines faded at the midpoint, already in the Between. This part wasn’t that hard. He’d been there, after all. Even connecting to the wavelength he was looking for wasn’t a challenge. He skirted the layers with teleportation often enough, even if at times with all the skill of cheek-sliding across Yuki’s ramp. Mage necromancy could function with as little as the first tier Law, so what would happen if he used his? What does Love call when it is in need?

  The concentration required sapped him of more Mana than the attempt did, and his eyes fluttered shut. The nearby demon was just waiting to savor the moment he screwed this up anyway. Artorian didn’t know how to communicate with another layer, but given his experience with senate and forum use, he just gave it a try, and spoke to the layer.

  In response, the layer demanded his experiences, and he felt the tug twang his line. Pulling his Mana tether until it was taut. Perhaps he should have chosen a different place, but this one… this one just seemed apt. He let flow the requested thoughts freely, but the pull drew more than he expected.

  The layer took memories in reverse, starting with the fresh, and going back in history. The layer learned of his fight with the demon that was toying with him. Tasks as an Administrator. Meeting his chosen. Entering the Soul Space. Pleasantly teaching Dale to walk in the Phantom Academy. Becoming a Mage. The search for family. His bed in the Fringe, basking in the sun.

  He didn’t realize tears rolled down his cheeks when the demanding pull ended. He only felt his eyes snap open, gasping in shock as an unseen force clasped wrists with him. Ghreziz eagerly awaited the visuals of the backlash. Tears had been a good start. No, tears had been a great start. If only he had something to snack on. Some roasted poultry would be excellent.

  When he felt the youth succeed, his amusement bled away like all his blood had been ripped from him. Ghreziz was on his feet, readying a charge to halt whatever incoming blasphemy this miscreant had summoned. This wasn’t a demon. This wasn’t a demon at all.

  This was worse.

  *Hraaaa*! Roaring as he exploded forwards, soot back-blasted for miles behind him from the sheer power with which Ghreziz propelled himself. His claw formed a fist, and he threw it straight at Artorian’s jaw.

  The blow didn’t connect. A single, shining digit stopped Ghreziz’s advance cold. May the curses of the abyss fall forever more from his mouth. The pillow-damned had summoned a ruinous celestial.

  Artorian dropped to a knee, heaving as his Mana vanished. He was sitting at a very uncomfortable B-rank zero. Almost all out. Almost. Burnout hid right around the corner, and he could feel it creeping in with every deeply drawn breath.

  He coughed out a greeting. Hoping whatever had come to help was also friendly towards him, rather than merely hateful towards his enemies. When Artorian looked up, the golden-eyed, smiling youth gazed lovingly back down at him. His expression was full of care and kindness. The affection freely given as his single finger stopped his opposite outright. “H—*cough* Hello. Might I ask for your name?”

  The celestial pushed Ghreziz away like he was a toothpick caught in a maelstrom. Ghreziz’s energies were fully canceled out by the overbearing celestial affinity he’d just been flicked by. The celestial’s voice sounded as one expected a Heavenly might. Ecclesiastic, and reverberating with chorus. “Of course, friend of my friend. My name, the one you might be familiar with, was Adam
.”

  Chapter Forty-Five

  The celestial eased his other hand upward, and the weight and fatigue dropped from Artorian’s shoulders. Mages could experience fatigue? Apparently so, because all of his just went away like a freshly dropped salt pack. “I know of your plight, mentor of Dale. Escape freely. My stay may be fleeting, but I shall make you the time.”

  Adam whispered something else to Artorian, and a brightness illuminated in both their eyes. With the celestial’s whisper, a clue clicked into place, causing a vast mystery of what had been disconnected pieces to assemble itself.

  Like finding the exact corner piece of an assembly puzzle, and being able to connect all the edges. Artorian looked at the smiling, supportive celestial a moment longer. Then, he replied with a sharp and curt nod. He understood.

  The spare B-ranked demon charged at Adam, but a luminous golden sword burst into being within the celestial’s grip and skewered the abyss summoned via his own charge. Unlike normal, this demon did not go back to the abyss, nor a memory Core.

  He had been purged.

  Artorian drew breath, steadying himself as Ghreziz readied. Answers were still unfolding in his mind. He’d been looking at the problem entirely wrong! As he often did. He didn’t need to lock his Presence off in order to use his current body. He just thought he needed to, because it was the first thing that had worked. Henry clearly didn’t do it this way. While in Niflheim, his Long form had been an incredible detriment, but here? Here it was the answer.

  Mana starved and close to burnout, Artorian slapped his hands together and exclaimed a word as it came to mind. It may have been a nonsensical one, but it just felt so appropriate for the situation. A cloud of glittery fog burst from his current form as he yelled. “Alakazam!”

  *Boof*!

  Ghreziz was confused. He just had several of his brand-new bones broken, via a flick. He had seen the young Mage succeed at a summoning on the first try, and had now also seen that same youth explode into a three-hundred-foot-long noodly monster. What?

  Feathered wings widened from Adam’s back, and his sword hummed with power. That sight was what drew the demon’s current attention, the empowered savant quickly on his feet as his own ruinous weapon was called forth. The lime green and onyx axe formed in his hand. Its sharp, serrated edges dripping with infernal poisons.

  He spat on the ground, deciding to ignore the dawdling noodle that suddenly hurled itself sideways through the air. It seemed so unintentional? Though at the same time, the strange self-toss offered the Long thing an escape. Ghreziz had different concerns. Those of the celestial kind as the two affinity-opposed warriors circled one another. “I’m surprised one of your kind would deem themselves so unworthy as to bow to this realm’s attention!”

  Adam didn’t give the demon the satisfaction of a rise, his calm demeanor pleasantly shining forth. “The request was made. Offering given. Memories provided. Heartfelt sympathies in the right place. I saw that man, and saw his life. I saw my place within it, and knew it was right that in this moment, I be here. Let none say that Love cannot cross all boundaries, for her cries were crystal, and her actions pure. I have but one question for you, infernal.”

  Ghreziz didn’t like this, his second axe forming quickly in his offhand. It looked just as imposing and deadly as the first. The guttural spew rolled forth over his tongue. “What is that, lightling?”

  Adam smiled, his voice amused. “How many options do you have, when all you have is one?”

  Ghreziz didn’t like the answer either as their weapons crossed in a chaotic display of discordant fireworks. He spat out the answer, hating that he knew this ancient little riddle. “The same as your chances of defeating me, celestial. None.”

  Hel became a battleground, matching the events occurring just about everywhere else as Artorian snaked his way to the exit. He was out of his depth here, and needed to just get far enough away! The Runescripting on his bones was the boon here! They allowed him to fly with a fraction of the ordinary expenses. He didn’t even feel a drain on his admittedly burnout-ready Mana, and flew as fast as the Runes let him in search of his beacon. That his control over his flight was laughable didn’t matter at this moment. He needed to get off this rock!

  *Honk*?

  “Son of a celestial! Not you too!” Artorian was miffed. He’d meant to get the goose’s attention, but that had been in order to direct it at Ghreziz! Not him! Now he was running away from this feathery monstrosity for a third time! “Crackers and abyss-burned toast! Could anything go well today?”

  The honking was more metallic than he remembered; a detail so trifling that he barely paid attention. That was, until the Metal-God-Goose decided to remind him it was a blasted Incarnate, and could just fold out of existence right next to him, anytime. He noticed it was covered in iridium right then and there.

  “Welp, no mystery where that entire chunk of metal went!” Which was pre~e~etty obvious now that it was chasing him to bite him in the butt! To make matters just a teensy bit worse, there was now a whole lot more butt to go around! “Forget crackers and toast! I am upgrading to biscuits!”

  Why biscuits was an exclamation of greater value, he didn’t know. Again, that was something for the backburner as he pulled his own tail out of the way of the amalgamation between a Gnomish and Dwarven love project. The dang thing was even bigger! What, had it been too small the last time? Didn’t impress the missus?

  The chaotic clatter behind him increased in intensity at an unwelcome, faster rate than he was managing to flee from the death-goose. At the minimum, he was able to discern where the beacon was and did his best to beeline right to it. Beeline? Now there was a thought! If he could compress this oversized snake down to a manageable human form, surely a bee wasn’t out of the ballpark either? Maybe that tiny, the goose would lose track of him!

  He dismissed the thought entirely when one of the mecha-goose’s many heads replaced the empty air in his path with a goopy square block of acid ooze. Weren’t those the things limited to living inside of Jorm’s stomach? Oh, speaking of. He should visit that big snake sweetums. Maybe he’d find some kinship now that he too was a noodle. Noodles unite!

  *Ow*!

  Artorian pulled himself up to skid over the surface of the ooze. Regardless of how slippery it was, it was unfortunately just as caustic, searing some scales right off his hide as he Yuki-technique skated across with the help of some traded-in ice Mana. It burned for him to use it, but what options did he really have? Then again, in the Long form he had the liberty of Aura and Presence use.

  A pinkish voice replied to him, originating from his own thoughts. “Why don’t we actually go ahead and use that, Artorian? That would be, I don’t know… clever to do!”

  “Scilla?” He’d thought the response to his own query, but the bit about being clever sounded like a distinctly different voice in his head. Sure enough, the pink-iris warden was out and about. Awake in the bonfire space that he currently did not have the clarity of mind to visit. There was escaping to do! “Is this what you wanted me to hurry for? I still don’t know!”

  Scilla whined in his bonfire space, but he heard it loud and clear all the same. “Boy! I wanted you to get a move on with your projects, you have far too much to do. You forget half of the things you’re going to do, and stop paying attention after you have made a little headway in your current one. You make all these lists but you don’t stick to them. It’s infuriating! Why isn’t your family decanted?”

  Artorian dodged a gout of flame, snapping back in a rush. “This is a terrible time for that conversation, Scilla! Kind of bolting for my life here!”

  Scilla wrinkled her nose. “You’re always running for your life, or something equally as pressing! So, no! Now is as good a time as any. Why not just become stronger so these things don’t affect you the way they are? You could just defeat the goose, instead of holding onto the end of your own tail and hoping you go faster if you just pull it hard enough.”

  Artorian co
uldn’t do this right now. “I am not going to Phoenix Kingdom in this state! I know what’s there, and I refuse! That is a heartache I don’t want to live through again. No!”

  Scilla didn’t let up. “Fine! This was incredible motivation, and you again forgot that I can control just how long you’re away for. If you did them all. Right now. That goose would be child’s play. You could Incarnate. You could! If you just tackled all of the regrets. You could get out of this without needing anyone else’s help!”

  Artorian still just couldn’t bring himself to do it. “No!”

  “Fine! Be stubborn.” Scilla slammed the door in his face, and his connection to the conversation severed. Scilla retreated back to the ceiling. She couldn’t force him to make the jump, she could only be there when he stepped through the door. Even trickery only took her so far. The participant needed to be willing.

  *Honk*!

  Artorian squeezed his Presence inward, the Dragon body humanizing just quickly enough to avoid several metal goose beaks from snapping him to pieces. He landed on a soot hill and tumbled, using the Dwarven earth-talon technique to gain additional footing. Propelling himself forwards so he could run out of range for the next few seconds.

  Okay! So Scilla was just a tiny bit right, and he had some lists that needed wrapping up. A few hundred years of technique practice also wouldn’t go misplaced, but he didn’t exactly have the time for that either now did he? Decant his village? With demons about? Ha! Abyss no! He’d find a moment. A perfect moment where he could do exactly that.

  For now, it was dealing with Cal and his accidents. Not to mention that at the end of this road, he’d have to find a method to deal with the true culprit of this annoying infernal invasion.

  Barry.

  He ran fast, but the goose was always faster. It had an anytime teleport, without needing the entirety of its body to come through at once. Some of the heads erupted out of nowhere to bite and snap at him independently, and he was playing hopscotch and bunny-hopping soot hills just so he wouldn’t suffer the same goosy fate as before.