Fetch Quest Chapter 49: Queen of the Damned (Patreon)

I’ve rebuilt my backlog, so the October schedule will be 2x unbound soul and 3x fetch quest. There will be a fetch quest side story later this week too.

Every exit was open, but there wasn't a single zombie in sight. Perfect for me, but it made me suspicious. What was the intelligence controlling the place planning this time? How intelligent was that intelligence? Was it operating on instinct, or was it sapient? Maybe it had run out of zombies, and didn't know how to react to that? Maybe my upgraded stealth skill was hiding me from it?

With the throne directly facing the entrance, I couldn't sneak into the room, so I openly marched in. All I needed to do was evade dupliKatie, charge the throne and tap the armour with my stolen dagger. How hard could that be?

My zombie twin was standing behind the throne, as before, wearing a face of immense boredom.

"Finally," she exclaimed upon seeing me. "What took you so long?"

"Your friend sitting there blocked off all the exits and sent hoards of zombies after me."

She tilted her head, apparently not understanding.

"Besides, didn't you say you were going to come to the shrine room?"

"I just didn't feel like it, okay?!" she shouted. I really hoped whatever mind control she'd been inflicted with wasn't permanent, because I wanted my friend back. Even if she was me.

My now rather air-headed zombie twin edged towards me, then stopped, glancing at her shield. Guess she didn't want to lose that, too. She turned around, tossed it behind her, and picked up the giant two-hander that had been laying across the armour's legs instead. She lifted it effortlessly, despite the size, then started charging me in earnest.

That was annoying; if I teleported the animated armour to Mru'walyn, now it wouldn't be armed.

Despite how easily she'd picked up the sword, it was still obviously weighing her down. Her charge was slower than the last time, giving me the opportunity to dodge around her and approach the throne. I stashed my shield and sword for some extra speed, then retrieved the dagger.

"Wait up," she yelled, as the animated armour started to stand. It reached out a giant hand towards me, with far more agility than it had any right to have. What was the range on the teleportation of these daggers? A couple of metres at most? I aimed at its belly and scored a direct hit, which completely failed to even scratch whatever tough material it was made from.

The armour vanished with a pop, as did a chunk of the throne. "Whu?" exclaimed dupliKatie groggily, as she collapsed mid-sprint, like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

Vestige of the King, Cursed armour
This armour was once worn by a legendary vulpes sagax king, who during his life brought great peace and prosperity to his people. As he aged, he became fixated on his own mortality, not believing any of his children to be capable of living up to his own achievements, and being unwilling to hand over power. Fixation became obsession and obsession became madness as he finally turned to the undead blight to extend his life. In the chaos that followed, his former armies were able to slay the mad, undead king, albeit at great loss to themselves. The king was burnt in holy fire and his equipment laid to rest in the catacombs. Alas, the equipment was not fully purified beforehand, and the shadow of the king rose once more, consuming the catacombs and raising all who had died fighting against him.

I'd fired off an appraisal during my assassination attempt, but didn't have a chance to read it until everything was over. I was pretty sure the fox-kin of today didn't have a king. Surely someone would have mentioned it by now? It wasn't a bad backstory, though. Far better than the story of the dragon making the fox-kin because he was bored.

It was taking her a while, but dupliKatie seemed to be recovering, and by the end of five minutes she was slowly pulling herself up off the floor while groaning. It was time to find out if whatever had been done to her was permanent, but the way she'd collapsed as soon as the armour was disposed of was promising.

Sense mana reacted, not to her, but behind me, and I turned to see the air rippling and distorting. I dived out of the way on general principles, having no idea what was happening, but not wanting to stand next to it, whatever it was.

Mru'walyn stepped into existence and immediately focused on dupliKatie.

"There you are," he muttered, gesturing. Sense mana was screaming at me, and I recognised it as whatever he was casting at me the last time I saw him, except that this time he must have finished preparing it before teleporting himself. Bypassing casting times was cheating, dammit!

He hadn't noticed me at all, so I leaned heavily on proficient stealth and made my way behind him. I wasn't fast enough though, and had to watch helplessly as he launched a pure white beam at my zombie twin.

Soul magic resistance advanced to level 14

Even though it wasn't directed at me, just looking at it hurt, and I had to slam my eyes shut, pausing in my attempt to backstab him.

"You fool," he continued, apparently to himself. "Did you not think I could follow the path of a transfer spell to locate the source? At last, I've succeeded in saving this fake world. Now, let's get you to safety."

"Was that supposed to do something?" asked my zombie twin. "I didn't feel anything?"

He froze. "How..." he started, before he was interrupted by a white flash and a crack, as a shield blasted away the blighted sword I'd just tried to stab him with from behind. Crap. Was it too much to hope that his shield was single use, like that other mage? I pulled my regular sword of paralysis out of my item box and made a second attempt, swinging at his neck as he turned around to see what had just attacked him.

He caught my sword in one hand, then his eyes opened wide as he saw my face.

"You're supposed to be a mage, dammit!" I yelled in frustration. "Since when do mages catch swords?!"

"Since..." he started, before he was interrupted by a massive two-hander cleanly bisecting him above the waist.

"Not a bad sword this," said my twin, "but I'd prefer my old one back, please."

Mru'walyn's torso fell to the floor, and he lost his grip on my weapon, so I stabbed him a few more times in the face to be safe.

"Seriously, what was that supposed to do?" asked my zombie twin. "Do I need to be worried?"

"Soul magic. He wanted to take my memories. Something about saving the world."

"Ah, and I have no soul, so it did nothing. Cool. Nothing to be worried about then, as long as the world isn't going to end imminently. It needs to at least hold on till you find the sword. And I'm back again, by the way. Sorry about that. Damn thing got into my head, and I don't have mind magic resistance anymore. At least it confirms I have a mind, which is nice, I guess."

"You're awfully nonchalant, given what just happened."

"Would you prefer me to panic, flail around and not get anything useful done?"

"No, nonchalant is fine. Welcome back."

"So, with the flippancy over, who the hell was he, and what the heck just happened?"

"That was the arch-mage, Mru'walyn, and for some reason, he was convinced that wiping my memory and personality was vital for saving the fox-kin. He's had his minions camping my spawn points for my last few respawns. Hopefully, that's the end of our troubles with the fox-kin."

"Oh? What happened to the warrior commander?"

"He turned all friendly after seeing me respawn. Well, friendly-ish, anyway. He stopped trying to viciously murder me, which I consider a win. Actually, that's a good point. So far, everyone who has seen me respawn has acted weirdly, other than you. What happens?"

"Nothing interesting. The statue glows a bit, like it did the first time you got a side quest. A big glowing ball shoots out of it, expands, and when the glow dies down, it leaves your new body behind."

"Maybe the statue glowing has some significance to them? Anyway, time to see what loot we got this time."

He did indeed have a necklace of shielding. Could I wear two at once? If I put it in my item box, it wouldn't recharge, now that it had a time stop effect. No, taking it would be rather greedy of me; my zombie twin had acted as a decoy there, as well as scoring the killing blow. She'd well earned her share.

"Necklace of shielding. It'll protect you from one attack per day. It was that white shield thing that sprung up when I tried to backstab him. Want it?"

"No downsides? Then sure, why not?"

My zombie twin put it around her neck, where the golden lustre quickly faded and the gem darkened, leaving behind a blood-red stone in a tarnished setting. Hopefully, it would still work. Now, what else did he have?

Ring of physicality
This silver ring contains a simple but high-quality enchantment that boosts physical abilities.

Another plain, unadorned band of silver, but this one I wanted.

"Boosts physical abilities. Can I keep this one?"

"Sure. I'll trade it for a brain."

I looked up from the bisected corpse and resulting pile of guts in deep suspicion.

"What?" asked my zombie twin. "I remember everything from while that armour was ordering me around, and while the vast majority of it was standing around being bored, your brain was delicious. It's not my fault that the stereotypes had it spot on."

"I thought I swore off eating myself?"

"Only because you thought it would make things awkward when you got back to Earth. I don't have that problem."

"Fine, next time I die, you can have my brain."

The ring went on another of my fingers, slightly too big for me, but my silk glove would hold it in place. Next up were a couple of mana crystals, which went into my item box.

"Hmm? Isn't that the crown that the armour was wearing?" asked my zombie twin. It was hanging off his belt. Why had he brought it back?

Cursed Crown of the Damned
This ancient artefact was once worn by a former king of the vulpes sagax. It was buried with the rest of his belongings after he died in madness, but was heavily tainted with the undead blight, twisting and raising the spirit of the king and his men. The one who wears this gains control of the surrounding blight, in exchange for being blighted in turn. This item is cursed and is irremovable once worn.

"Mine," said my zombie twin, snatching it off me. "I'm already blighted, and no way am I letting anyone else wear it, given that it can control me."

"You heard the bit about it being cursed, right?"

"Sure did," she answered, plonking it on her head. Nothing much seemed to happen. Perhaps her tattoos got a tad more ominous, or her yellow eyes a bit brighter. She looked a little more imposing, her integrated armour shifting slightly, giving her a slightly curvier look. "Anything else?"

Since I was looking at the crown, might as well check out the sword too.

Sword of the Damned
This great two hander, forged of pure demonite, is far too heavy for a normal mortal to wield effectively. Blights both the wielder and target.

I could lift it easily enough, despite the protests of disease nullification. I could even swing it. Once it had started swinging, though, stopping it again without falling over proved impossible.

"Perhaps we should leave this one here?"

"If you don't want it, then sure."

What about the armour itself? Could someone wear that? Preferably purifying it first. It wasn't here though, so I couldn't appraise it. What had Mru'walyn done to it? Had he destroyed it? Trapped or contained it somehow? Ignored it while he came down here as quickly as possible, and it was now slaughtering the rest of the fox-kin?

Mru'walyn didn't have anything else on him. Given that he was the arch-mage and a powerful enchanter, I couldn't believe that was all he had. He must have come down here without gearing up properly first, which again, was very lucky for me.

"So, now what?" I asked myself. Both of myself.

"Well, the holy sword isn't on this floor, so I suppose you want to move on to the next," answered the other me.

"Hmm? You sound like you know that for certain."

"I do," she answered, smugly. "I can see the whole floor. Except for the shrine room. This crown is cool."

"Then can you tell me where the way down is?"

She pointed at a wall. No, at where a wall had been the last time I looked. Wow, she can control the maze now? I'd never have found that on my own.

"Then shall we go?"

"Only you, I'm afraid," she said with a sigh, poking at the damaged throne but then sitting in it anyway. "I'm blighted, remember? If I move around the dungeon, I'll bring the blight with me. Everything we meet will have to fight us for their lives, intelligent, friendly or otherwise. The dungeon will be twisted around us. You'll never have peace, and you'll never be able to talk to anyone but me. It's not safe for me to leave this floor."

"You're more important than the other occupants of this dungeon, though!"

"To you, I'm sure I am. Likewise, you're important to me, and you'll have a better journey if I'm not travelling with you. Of course, you're welcome to come and visit, if you want to spar, or train some skills, or make out. I'll be here. The queen of blight and her zombie army. Once it finishes regrowing; it's kinda depleted at the moment. Anyway, unless the first thing you find down there is a shrine, I'll be seeing you soon enough."

Make out? I had to admire the way she managed to say that in such a sombre conversation while keeping a perfectly straight face.

"Fine. Maybe I can find some sort of communication magic item so we can at least talk. They have to be something that exists, right? Take care of yourself."

Giving my zombie twin one last wave, I turned and walked down the steps, making my way to the fourth floor.

Side quest failed: Clear the blight
Penalty applied: Class skills locked for twenty-four hours

Oh, right. That was a thing, wasn't it? I'd been expecting it at some point, given that I'd made the decision to ignore the quest the moment I'd got it, and apparently trying to leave for the next floor was the trigger. No way was I going to venture into new, unexplored territory without my class skills.

"Forgot something?" asked my zombie twin, as I reversed direction.

"Something I neglected to mention, but when I repaired the shrine on this floor, I may have slightly got a quest to kill you. I just failed it."

"Oh. And now you have some nasty penalty?"

"Yup. Twenty-four hours thereof."

"Looks like I get the pleasure of your company for a while longer then, and it would be remiss of me to not offer up my thanks for not rekilling me. Speaking of magic items, don't you have a couple of cursed rings in your item box? I know how much you were tempted to experiment with them when you found them, and I'm sure you could fix the effect by lopping your finger off and respawning. Also, you owe me a brain."

I stared with raised eyebrows into my own grinning, tattooed face. "Twenty-four hours without my class skills," I clarified. "That which is within my item box shall remain within my item box."

"Oh well," she said disappointedly. "I'm sure you can think of something inventive with your webs instead."

I could, indeed, be inventive with my webs. By the time the penalty had worn off, and I was making my way down the next staircase for the second time, I'd resolved that should I ever earn a third class slot, I would skip through the rare classes with my eyes closed.