by Konrad Ryan
Finally, the telltale sign of the dungeon, a thin stream of titanspawn that stretched miles into the air, came into view. Six slayers stood, well five stood, and one sat smugly in a wheelchair, in front of the already open doors of the sinister dungeon. Tad’s furious pace came to a stop, finally reaching his destination. Sweat dripped down his face and neck, his skin sticky with various bug particles and plant pollen.
“Sixty-two minutes. You’re late hothead.” Blaze greeted him with a smirk, still motionless in his wheelchair. How long had he been here and how had he beaten Tad? “You’re quick, but not quick enough. Ironfang, this is the recruit I was talking about. What do you think?”
A heavily muscled man approached, loose leather armor hung slack around his form. Metal plates covered the leather armor in strange places, some that hung down by his knees, the leather armor was clearly built for someone else. The man was short, barely coming up to Tad’s chest, but his muscles bulged, even under his saggy leather armor, more than Tad’s even. The man extended a hand, Tad took it. “Welcome. Blaze says you want to join today, hope you’re not a coward or a sadist.” Ironfang squeezed Tad’s hand, but Tad wasn’t about to lose, not in strength.
“Tad Harrington.” Tad squeezed back until he could hear the knuckles of the other man groan in protest.
Ironfang gave an appraising nod. A silver canine gleamed as the man spoke. “Strong as an ox. Can’t feel your strength, but Blaze knows how to pick ‘em. I’ll give you the same spiel I gave them.” His head pointed toward the other four slayers, some looked nervous. “I lead, you follow. Some people will inevitably die, but listen to my orders and you’ll have a better chance of living. My survival rate is sixty-five percent, a whole fifteen percent better than average. Don’t be a hero and then expect me to have your back.” He recited the practiced speech with business-like speed. “A bad follower may die alone, but poor leaders die with company. Catch my drift?”
Tad nodded. Finally, a real dungeon leader. Sixty-five percent didn’t seem that great, but they didn’t have a ringer like Bunta, so maybe that was the best they could do. Tad’s tongue slicked to his missing teeth. Gruff had made too many mistakes, the man had been soft. Tad steeled his resolve, he would follow the man in front of him.
“Only one symbol on this dungeon. The twins. You know it?” Ironfang pointed to a symbol of two identical figures. The two winged figures held hands, each identical to the other, they seemed to spin in a circle with a smirk on their face. They almost looked like angels. Angels from hell.
Tad shook his head. “Haven’t seen that one before.”
“It means there are two bosses inside. The fights can get kind of hectic, try to keep your wits about you.”
Tad froze. Two bosses? Had there been a second Kothar-Wa-Khasis or a second mosquito boss, Tad wouldn’t even be here. How were they supposed to kill two bosses?
A voice laughed inside Tad’s head. “Got your attention now, don’t we hothead?” He pointed at a tall woman touching the dungeon exterior. “Don’t worry, the guild has a douser. We won’t send anyone into a dungeon if it has any irregularities. They’re too dangerous. Too much variance in power. Some should outright be warrior dungeons.”
Irregularities. The first dungeon, the slime dungeon, might not have been irregular. Although Gruff had said that the mosquito boss was bad, maybe it had been a power mismatch. Clearly, the lizard boss had been in a class of its own, even before it had transformed. If that dungeon hadn’t been irregular, then none of them were. Tad walked over to where the woman touched the dungeon and placed his hands on it.
But there was nothing. Nothing sinister, like he had sensed before, in the dungeon that had been recommended by some mysterious watcher. This dungeon felt rather unremarkable, the black tendrils that protruded, whipped lazily across the turtle-like shell of the dungeon. Maybe this would be an easy dungeon, even with two bosses.
Ironfang cleared his throat. “Alright, we have twin bosses, but no other restrictions or irregularities according to Dolly.” Ironfang pointed at the brunette woman still touching the dungeon. ”Let’s take our time to recover if we must. We have Sara, one of the guild’s best healers.” He pointed toward a blonde, curvy woman in a white robe who smiled at the compliment. “As far as blades, you have me, Tristan, and the new guy, Tad. Guild-master Blaze, an accomplished mage, will join us. We don’t have a true shield today, couldn’t schedule one, but Squeak has volunteered for the role. He’s usually a healer, but we’ll manage with what we have.”
The man introduced as Tristan was positively bristling with weapons. Short swords, axes, long axes, a pair of daggers by his boots, and even a morning star tucked away into a holster at his side. Squeak, on the other hand, was a portly-looking man, heavily armored, with two bucked teeth, and a face that looked like a rat.
Ironfang’s weary tone hardened slightly. “So don’t be stupid, and don’t be a hero. Follow my lead, I’d hate to have to cull a slayer, but I’ve done it in the past, and won’t hesitate to do it again.” He gave the speech as if he had a thousand times. This ‘Ironfang’ guy seemed to know what he was doing.
Tad struggled for only a moment, trying to keep up with the guild lingo. Shields must be tanks, and blades must mean a damage role, someone responsible for damaging monsters and bosses. Culling, Tad assumed, was to kill a slayer who was a danger to the party, or had gone rogue. Like Gruff should have done to Scar, when the man wanted to bring a mind controlled Becca to the boss fight.
The thought left a dark taste in his mouth.
The four slayers entered the dungeon, followed by Ironfang. Only Blaze and Tad remained outside.
The red-haired man spoke softly inside Tad’s mind. “You not going in?”
“How did you beat me here?”
Blaze grinned. “I’m a speed mage. I blinked.” One instant Blaze was there, the next, he was gone. Whether inside the dungeon or somewhere else, Tad didn’t know. The man and his aura of power had both vanished. A wave of annoyance melted through Tad like warm butter.
The man could teleport.
He likely could have teleported Tad to the dungeon in an instant, but instead the man had toyed around with him. Tested him. Not only that, but Blaze could have teleported to the guildhall in an instant… and yet he had made Tad wait four hours in the lobby. What a frustrating man.
Tad summoned Raekast’s Fang and took a step to follow, but before he made it to the dungeon entrance, sounds began to slow.
Time stopped.
Tad’s body froze and sound stopped completely. He struggled to move, even an inch, but it was impossible. He recognized the phenomenon instantly. This wasn’t the first time that this had happened, but it was the first time when he wasn’t in mortal danger.
Hot sweat formed on the back of his neck at the realization. He was in danger. But from what?
A figure of untold power walked smoothly before Tad’s vision, garbed in a rough brown robe. Waves of power poured from the figure, each threatened to snuff out his life, like a burning candle held overhead against a furious tide. Any second he expected to be pulled into that empty space within his dagger, where he had retreated before, when faced with insurmountable danger, but it never came.
The robed figure stopped in front of Tad, the cowl of his hood, was dark, only a vague outline of the man’s face was visible within. That was, until the figure nonchalantly pulled the hood back, a victorious smile shone on his face.
“It finally worked. Just as he promised.” Curly brown hair framed the man’s attractive face. His skin shone, a golden light illuminated his every feature, his dark brown eyes were the warmest chocolate. The man before him was radiant, like a God. “I tried this before your last two dungeons, but nothing. You didn’t respond to the danger, to the promise of death, but it finally happened. You do not understand how long I’ve waited for this day. My name is Gabriel Hawk.”
Tad would’ve frozen at that name alone. It was him. The creator rank slayer who had abando
ned America to their own problems, a man who had pulled a continent from the sea and created his own kingdom.
It was the Defector himself.
“It’s a shame your friend died, Brando, was it? He was an amicable enough fellow, for a few coins that is. You wouldn’t believe the things he told me about you. How you seemed to grow, how you defied all logic about rebirth as we know it. It was as the wolf god said. That you would outgrow your limits, climb to new heights, but I doubted. My faith wavered, for I couldn’t feel any change within you. None whatsoever. But I couldn’t sense the wolf god either, and he claimed you would be a kindred spirit. Now I know what he meant by that.”
Tad tried to furrow his brow in confusion, but his paralysis left him unable even to breathe. Anger burgeoned in Tad’s chest. By his own admission, this was the man that had paid Gruff to spy on Tad. The man responsible for the deaths of more than half his party.
Fear rolled down his back.
Why was the Defector interested in him?
“I watched you enter that first dungeon.” The man laughed. “I even let you see me, in some vain hope that this would happen on the first try, not that you recognized my power. The dungeon seemed safe enough, with that warrior accompanying you. But after, even as Brando carried your limp, unconscious body, I couldn’t tell if you truly had grown. So, next, I recommended a particularly nasty dungeon, one that I had been watching in Singapore. You see, I keep tabs on all the dungeons, waiting for the dungeon of the god of wolves. He said it was only a matter of time until his dungeon returned.”
The Defector licked his lips. “At first, I was afraid I had sent you to your doom, you were in there too long. But then you emerged, alone and victorious, this time holding the warrior in your arms. You had entered that first dungeon a zero, with no power, none whatsoever, and exited the second stronger than a warrior.” the Defector’s teeth shone once more in a victorious smile.
He was wrong, however. Tad had only escaped that second dungeon by the skin of his teeth. Even now he was still only soldier, but he wouldn’t have corrected the man even if he could move his mouth.
“Grow in power, grow in strength, my little void.”
Tad’s heart stopped in his chest at the word.
Gabriel laughed, eyes dancing with his own amusement. “Even frozen like that, I can read you like a book. It surprises you that I know that word? Like I said, I met another void, stronger even than me, God of the Wolves, I call him, for he never told me his name. But I told him of our plight, of our world, I was so desperate to save it back then, so naïve. But he told me truths you could only dream of. Of gods that have always existed, of a plane of existence filled with creators and creators alone. Beings of untold power, for none other can withstand the glory of that place. Then guess what he told me about, little void?”
“He told me about you.” He breathed the last word.
Confusion sprang within Tad, panic and fear mixed with the burgeoning of emotions. What did this man want with him? How could some mysterious wolf god know about Tad?
Gabriel Hawk laughed. “Well, maybe that is stretching the truth a little. What he said, was that if life was truly spawning in the void, on a rock in the void, that it was only time before the darkness infected it. Until a void would be reborn. He also told me it was an impossibility for a creator to be born from the void. And yet, here I am. You hear that, Tad? I’m an impossibility, while you were expected. The wolf god explained a way for creators to cross to the other side. And guess what? You’re the key. A void in the void, he said. Only that could open the gates to eternity.” His smile widened, almost as if he was claiming victory already.
“But, you must be stronger, almost as strong as the Wolf God himself. He warned me, however, to not coddle you, for a void can only grow through opposition. His words, not mine.”
Suddenly the Defector’s godly visage twisted, dark cruelty shone in his eyes. Blue fire sprouted in balls of flame across the entire landscape, further than Tad could see. His voice became sharp and deadly, so sharp Tad thought the sound of each word might cut him where he stood. “But I promise you this, should you fail me, should you die before your strength reaches its peak, I might just take it out on your sweet mother, or perhaps your cute little brother.” The Defector raised the palm of his hand. Every blue fireball that had ignited the world was suddenly sucked to the palm of his hand, into a compressed pure flame that burned like the sun. Above the flame burned two inky black figures, they almost looked like titanspawn that had been forced into a human-like form. The humanoid titanspawn writhed in pain until the blue flame consumed them completely.
Anger flashed through Tad at the display. Even though he knew it suicide, Tad tried to gather mana to cast a spell, to do anything, but his mana was frozen in his head, the same as his entire body. What about his level-up program? Was that frozen too? With a thought Tad opened his stats, they came up without pause. A new debuff was there to greet him. Surprise rippled through him in great waves.
*Debuffs: Void paralyzation
Void Paralyzation: Dexterity increases to 99999, but the host becomes paralyzed.*
In a flash of understanding, everything made sense. Time hadn’t stopped. Not now, and not when he fought the queen roach, or Kothar-Wa-Khasis. No, it was Tad’s speed that’d increased so much that everything else had crawled to a stop; simultaneously he’d been paralyzed and sucked within his dagger. But the man before him, the Defector, was faster, even than that. Faster than 99999 dexterity. Suddenly the goal of becoming a creator seemed impossibly far away. The Defector’s dexterity had to be easily over one hundred thousand.
The gulf between them was infinitely deep.
“You look worried. Don’t worry, Tad. Harrington. All you have to do to keep them safe, is to stay alive.” The blue flame disappeared from his palm. Two new faceless figures, that Tad was now almost certain were manipulated titanspawn, hugged each other and did a small dance of celebration on the top of his hand. “Stay alive and continue to get stronger. Don’t make me wait for the next void.”
Unexpectedly, Tad could move once more. He crumpled to the ground. The Defector disappeared, with no trace he had ever been there, besides the afterimages of the blue flames that now swam through his eyes.
His limbs shook, sweat that had been held back, now poured down his face and back all in one go. The Defector’s power had been overwhelming, a vortex of fire next to an unlit match.
Tad had been completely at the mercy of the raging storm.
Chapter 6
Tad floated in the void between dungeon and earth. The Defector had said so many things it made his head spin. Creators born from the void. It was only a matter of time until a void was reborn. Those two lines stood out in his memory. But what did they mean? What exactly was the ‘void,’ Tad thought he was supposed to be a void, Zero too.
Speaking of Zero, he was nowhere to be seen. Before, he had been in this black space, waiting for Tad to enter dungeons. But now… Questions begat more questions. Tad tried to focus. This dungeon differed from any he had entered before. It had two bosses, and no Bunta to solo it. It would be his first real soldier dungeon, with only soldier rank slayers.
Suddenly he hoped that his new companions could actually fight.
The black mist thinned, before he fell out into the dungeon with an audible pop. He had never noticed the thinning before. Tad landed on his feet, crafted stone covered in squishy moss met him underfoot. Blaze and Ironfang stood close together, whispering conspiratorially. They whispered, but the atmosphere of the group had changed. Besides Ironfang and Blaze, the remaining four slayers explored the small stone box and cut large sections of thick moss from the walls, revealing a repeating pattern. Five glass beads, each larger than the last, were hidden under the moss, the beads arranged in all directions, almost at random, but beyond the biggest glass spheres, a new small glass sphere appeared, starting the pattern all over again in a new direction.
The dungeon exit was sti
ll active, black mist swirled through the open doorframe.
“Hothead,” Blaze’s voice spoke in his mind, while a small jet of flame burned the wall in front of Blaze. Tad couldn’t quite tell where the man was pooling his mana. It seemed to just appear from thin air, scorch moss, then wink out. “Well, don’t just stand there, help us find it.”
Tad followed the others’ lead. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he started slicing the moss from the walls. Surely, he would recognize something different in this endless pattern of glass beads.
“This is a sequence dungeon.” Blaze’s mind announcement included everyone in the room this time. “Each glass bead represent a battle. This box is too small to fight in, I expect these walls to dissolve and we must kill all the monsters in the next enclosure. The last will be the boss.”
“Bosses.” Ironfang said matter-of-factly.
“Right. Twins. We must proceed with caution.”
“How do we start the fight?” Tad asked between slicing another long stretch of moss from the wall.
“Should be a button.” Ironfang grunted in between cuts of moss. “Speak of the devil,” Behind the moss he had just pulled away from the wall, a small stone protrusion, about the size of a quarter, stuck out a fingernail’s length. The thick moss was deep enough to cover it with ease.
Blaze spoke inside their minds once more, somehow louder than before “I assume, once we press this, the dungeon entrance will probably close. At least, until we clear the round. Let’s take it nice and easy, there’s no time limit. Let’s try not to lose anyone. Ironfang, if you want to do any preparation, now is the time.”
Ironfang nodded. Suddenly the faint power from the man exploded, his skin began to physically glow. Tad watched in rapt attention. He had only seen this happen online, in a study on how transformation increased one’s power. Ironfang’s muscles swelled and bulged, his face and jaw jutted under his skin unnaturally. Short coarse fur rapidly grew along the man’s skin, his torso stretched and elongated. The loose leather armor, covered in nonsensical metal plates, tightened across the animal body, the fit tight and protective. Arms and legs twisted into steel hooves. His two upper canine teeth grew until they were a foot long each, one gleamed metallic, the other bone.
