Chapter 67 - TFF (Patreon)

No! No! No!

This couldn’t be happening. He had clearly attacked the Doctor! Why was Davis lying dead in front of him, killed by his hand? By his blade?

Alan turned in confusion. There was no trace of the Doctor. The white werewolf’s body was laid charred on the ground. The fireball seemed to have only singed some of Ashlyn’s hair, without doing much further damage.

Her body was motionless, a large pool of blood under her torso. Alan’s head spun and he rushed toward his best friend, terrified like he hadn’t been before.

He didn’t know what to do. He had no more of the Arzuan potion from Ig-Thun. Ashlyn had some ointments tucked away in the pockets of her cloak, but they would hardly save her life.

“Jaerdra!” he called, his eyes locked on Ashlyn’s wound. “Jaerdra, please!”

There was no response.

Alan turned and saw the elven woman lying in a pool of blood, her throat cut. There were no signs of life there. Reyvalur was still alive, but unconscious in the far corner of the hall. Alan didn’t care about the elf right now.

Nothing made sense. Was this all an illusion? Had the Doctor drugged him? [Shadow Mind] wouldn’t allow his mind to be easily influenced.

Florence! Where was Florence?

Alan’s gaze searched and saw the girl. She too lay unconscious on the ground. It didn’t look like she was breathing. Alan’s world came crashing down. Both of them? Dead?

Where was the Doctor? Where?!

Alan had nothing to do but push away the anger and fear. He had to be present. He had to find a solution.

Calm down. Think.

His skills were useless. If the Doctor was invisible… mana! He could sense mana. Flow was the answer. It was not a skill he could simply pour mana into. No, it was something more, something fundamental to everything.

Alan closed his eyes and focused on the flow of mana inside and around him. It took him a while to calm down enough, but it was manageable. He could feel the strands of energy pooling inside of him. Someplace that was connected to his body, and to something… more. To the thing that made him himself that was not flesh. Was that his soul?

His breathing quickly evened out, no trace of panic or anger remaining. All that mattered was the flow. Slowly his perception spread out. He sensed Ashlyn first.

Her heart was beating, reinforced by some strange energy. He had experienced the same energy during his ritual. The Pale Werewolf’s blood. It was everywhere, but most concentrated on the wound. It was trying to do something, to heal, pushed by something greater. The skill.

It wouldn’t be enough. No.

Next, he sensed the white werewolf. It was dead, but something strange was happening in its body. A probing energy poured into blood and flesh, trying to bring it back to life. It was a strange, different type of energy. The Dungeon? The laws that made it function and allowed it to exist as it was?

Each moment revealed a different aspect of the world to Alan. Even the stone walls were in a state of constant change. Energy covered the world, and the world was energy. Mana was its most surface and purest expression and it was everywhere but it was neither the end nor the beginning.

There were laws in place.

Jaerdra was fully dead, Alan was somehow sure of it. And so was Davis. Killed by him. Alan felt pangs of regret and guilt, but quickly pushed them away. There was no time for this now. And it was nothing he wouldn’t be able to overcome with time.

Florence came next and his chest felt tight in expectation. He hoped there was hope…His senses covered the beautiful girl and he frowned.

There was only mana there. There was mana everywhere but where Florence’s body should have been hung only a mass of mana, illusory and thin, but mana nonetheless. It was warped by the telltale signs of a skill use.

A skill? Don’t tell me…

[Manipulators] were good at one thing. But they had many tools to achieve and do what they were good at. The revelation shook him to his core, making him slip out of the weird state he was in. Alan tried to hold on, barely retaining his hold on to the sensations.

He didn’t reign in the budding fire of anger this time.

He could see his blood rush through his veins and his newly found perception spread throughout the hall like an avalanche. Every corner, every item, every speck of blood and piece of flesh. They were there for him to see.

There.

Right on top of the desk was a massive flow of mana and he saw the warped shape and currents hidden beneath the young man’s body. The Doctor.

And next to him was a smaller one, but still much stronger than Alan’s. Why was she so strong? This was not right.

“Florence?” he said, opening his eyes and looking toward the desk. “What the fuck did you do?”

There was a pause before the world shimmered and his eyes adjusted as the illusion disappeared.

“I told you he would see through it,” The Doctor laughed. The man didn’t seem to have moved from his place. But why did a Dungeon boss allow this to happen? It couldn’t be possible that they had planned all of this. A person couldn’t visit a Dungeon more than once… but Florence and Davis had. Maybe their excursion to the entrance alone didn’t count? The System was finicky like that.

Florence appeared next to the desk, looking fine. Her expression was almost as blank as he remembered it from their first nights in the camp. There was also a bloody dagger laid on the desk next to her – the weapon she had chosen.

Her eyes were particularly empty, and as she smiled Alan almost grimaced. This was not the Florence he had grown attached to. Not the girl he liked.

“It’s not what it looks like, Alan.”

Her words send a jolt down his spine and body.

“Oh? I sure as fuck don’t know what it looks like. ASHLYN IS DYING! And you-you, what are you doing? Why are you doing this!?”

Florence seemed to flinch back, and Alan sensed a quick pang of worry for her to go through him. Was she manipulating him? Still? How? Was this all some form of a game to her?

“How are you doing this?”

She hesitated for a few seconds and some light returned to her eyes. “There are many ways to influence people that do not involve playing directly with their emotions or minds. External stimuli, hormones, body language, smell. Illusions.” Florence took a step forward, “I just want you to know that I did it for us. I never meant to lie to you.”

“What do you mean you did it for us? What the fuck?” Calm down.

Alan forced himself to suppress the rage inside. She couldn’t feel him, she had told him so. His [Shadow Mind] prevented at least that much. As long as he didn’t show his emotions, she wouldn’t give him a heart attack. It would be particularly easy for her to kill him, considering his Vitality.

“I like you, Alan. And you like me, not only because of my looks, or influence on you. Ashlyn is baggage from the old world, you don’t need her. And I don’t need Davis. The elves were just… I didn’t like them. They hurt me. I like it to be the two of us. We can be reborn; we can be who we were meant to be and change the world.”

He didn’t need Ashlyn? Was the psycho jealous? Was she insane? She was murdering people, manipulating them to their deaths, just because…? No. He was a murderer too. She had just picked a more roundabout way to do this.

“Did you assist her?” Alan turned toward the Doctor. Why was a Dungeon boss in on it? Alan barely held off from attacking. He needed to know the full picture and find an opportunity. If the boss intervened…

The Doctor shrugged. There was a glint in his eye. “We made a pact. She will destroy the Dungeon for me when she is strong enough so I can get out, and in return, I was to allow her to do everything. Don’t worry, I am enjoying this too much to interfere.”

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, Alan. But it was a good opportunity to get rid of many obstacles at once. It was all planned out but… Ashlyn, the blood she used was too strong for her, she would have killed the boss and possibly everyone! I had to act now! I love you and I want the best for us. I saved us. Can’t you see?”

“You…” Alan felt like breathing was a chore as he poured mana into his [Monochrome Armor]. Would it protect him from her skill? Probably not.

You ridiculous bitch.

No. He needed to be calm for this. He needed to play it right.

Alan closed his eyes and took deep breaths, suppressing the anger burning inside of him. Florence had lost it completely. She was once again using her skills on herself. He didn’t know if that’s who she truly was, or if she had crossed some wires in a way that had scrambled her mind at some point.

Alan took a step forward, his eyes never leaving Florence’s.

“I understand, Flo,” he said. He felt like crying and screaming and killing. It would have to wait. He had a role to play. Mana buzzed through his being, every centimeter loaded to the brim, ready to strike.

Will my heart stop before I get to her?

It was distracting how little he cared about his death. He hadn’t thought about such things in a while. His life was worth living now, or so he had thought. The fighting, the killing… Moving like a superhero when before all he could do was lament at the evilness of stairs.

If he lived he would move past this too.

He could feel her influence now that he was closer. His attraction toward her, his hesitation. Being close to her warped his thinking in subtle ways he hadn’t noticed before.

“Flo, I really like you. I truly do.” Alan said and smiled, feeling the tears come to his eyes.

Her eyes glittered and with some hesitation, she took a step forward. Her smile was really beautiful. Alan wondered what it would be like to kiss those lips. Maybe in another life.

[Synaptic Failure] went off making the girl stumble and fall into his waiting embrace. His body screamed from the amount of mana in it. Each movement felt as if lightning moved through his veins.

His dagger slid with ease into her heart. Alan watched the dark ceiling and waited for the System message. He didn’t know if his heart was beating like it was because he was about to die or because of what was happening. Tears nipped at the corners of his eyes and his whole body trembled.

You have slain: Human [Manipulator] (37)

Level up!

You have reached level 23   in [Warlock]!

+ 3 Attribute Points

+ 1 Mind, Will, and Magic

Level up!

You have reached level 24 in [Warlock]!

+ 3 Attribute Points

+ 1 Mind, Will, and Magic

Alan carefully lifted the girl’s body and carried it to the desk, trying to not look toward the expression on her lifeless face.

The Doctor had been oddly silent, probably enjoying the drama in his own twisted way. Alan turned toward him. The boss could probably easily end him now that he was alone. But he wanted something.

“Can you help her?” Alan asked, pointing at Ashlyn.

“Yes. The Pale Werewolf blood won’t heal her much longer. Her skill has a time limit.”

“Will you?”

“If you promise me what she promised before you killed her.” He nodded in the direction of Florence’s body.

“To destroy the Dungeon?” Alan asked. He would do anything.

The Doctor nodded with a smile, “Yes. You will have to be much stronger before you are allowed into the Upper parts, but I believe you can do it. It’s where the core lies.”

“I promise I will do it.”

“Make an Oath. Swear by the System on your class and levels, and I will help her and the elf as a bonus.”

Alan nodded. “I swear on my class and my levels that I will return and destroy this Dungeon when I am strong enough.”

You have made an Oath. You have gained   the trait: Oathbound

Trait: Oathbound

You are bound by an Oath. Failure to follow through will be severely   punished.

The Doctor smiled satisfied and jumped from the desk. “Shame about my champion. It was a necessary sacrifice.”

The fight had been way harder than the Doctor had alluded to. Alan had no energy to focus on that now. The boss would pay, one way or another.

“Do you not care for it?”

“I do, but I will make another. It is the only way apart from killing me, and you cannot do that alone.”

The Doctor administered some strange dust and liquid to the wound, then seemed to cast a skill much stronger than Jaerdra’s had been. Alan watched as the flesh started closing. It took only a minute before not even a scar remained. If the Doctor had done something else, Alan wouldn’t know.

“She will wake up soon. Probably. She is out of danger anyway.” The Doctor took a few steps back and suddenly knelt on the stone floor. “And now…”

He cleared his throat.

“Oh, mighty hero. How strong and handsome you are. I cannot match your power. Please, mightiest of adventures, spare my life.”

Alan watched the performance of the strange boss with apathy. He was not in the mood for the Doctor’s quirks.

“Yeah, sure.”

You have completed the Dungeon Quest: Defeat Doctor Pharom in the   Lower Buried Blood Fields.

Great job. Although killing him would   have been preferable…

Reward: Class Guide or Item

Congratulations. You have slain a Dungeon   Boss of the Lower Buried Blood Fields 2/2

Fuck yourself, System.

Alan sat and waited for Ashlyn to wake up. He couldn’t allow himself any more mistakes. The Doctor went and checked on the unconscious Reyvalur too on his own accord. Alan had completely forgotten about the elf. The Doctor put some ointments on the burns and even cast some skill.

“How did Davis do so much damage to Ashlyn?”

The Doctor turned, “Huh? How should I know?”

“Never mind.”

Davis was not strong enough for that. Florence’s level was surprisingly high… If only he had checked with the monocle, he would know she was dangerous. He hadn’t even felt the [Battle Focus] effect end.

Stupid.

Alan clutched his shaking hands together, ignoring everything but the sleeping Ashlyn.

The Doctor babbled on about something.

Florence’s face flashed in his mind. Her eyes, her smile. He tried not to turn toward the desk, where her body lay.