Lewd Dungeon, Chapter 334 (Patreon)

Chapter 334 – Narrow Victory

Already tired from three hard fights in a row, and barely recovered from the last one, which had almost ended in tragedy, Bargulg was not exactly thrilled to start the fight, but he didn’t have a choice in the matter. Tels Xuan, the Dark Saint, drew her blade from her hip. As she did so, she spoke, “Fly, Soulcleaver. We have work to do.”

The blade which had been floating behind her now moved with a will of its own. Whether the blade was actually intelligent, or was just fueled by a powerful enchantment, he could not say. But he did know that such weapons were always powerful, and usually had nasty abilities on them.

Seeing the way his eyes moved to the floating blade, the Dark Saint chuckled. “Don’t worry, the Lord only allows me to use Soulcleaver’s true power against those who come here without signing the contract. It would not be fair if I stole your XP and added it to my own, after all.”

Ena gasped. “A Soulrender? I’ve heard of such enchantments, but they are supposed to be amongst the rarest in the galaxy!”

“Very good,” Tels nodded. “But enough talk!”

AIEEEEEEE!

A keening wail ripped through the Arena. Bargulg found himself on one knee, coughing up blood inside his helmet as that wail tore through him, despite his armor. More blood trailed from his eyes, nose, and ears. It did not cut like a blade, but it still hurt like hell. Obviously, the undead spectre was formerly a Banshee of some sort.

The flying blade slashed at him, and he only just had the presence of mind to bring his blade up in time to stop it. A clang to his side revealed that Ratha was still on her feet, and had intercepted the Dark Saint. Her skills were more defensive in nature, so it made sense that she was not as affected by that ability.

Driving through the pain, he forced himself to his feet, and threw the sword back. It still floated in the air, and began slashing at him. Fighting the blade was tricky. At times it moved as though wielded by the hand of a master swordsman, but at other times it used the fact that it was not held by any mortal hand to move in ways that would be impossible for a normal wielder, making guarding against its strikes problematic, at best.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Soul of Darkness rise up from the ground, blade in hand. He could not parry both her blade, and the flying sword. Twisting slightly, he moved to take the ghost blade’s cut in his side, minimizing the damage. He needed to keep his vitals safe, and not lose the function of his arms. The rest could be healed later.

“[Healing Radiance]!”

Lyrei’s voice reached his ears at the same moment her healing spell did. Area heals were less efficient than single-target spells, but being able to heal the entire party made the area spells useful in cases like this. It would have taken much longer for her to cast individual spells on all of them, after all, and the overall mana cost would have been higher.

“Aagh!” The Soul of Darkness yelled as though she’d been burned. And, in truth, she had been. Undead could not be healed by normal healing spells. Their nature was antithetical to that magic. Instead, they were wounded by healing magic, and healed by certain types of dark magic. Not only had Lyrei brought the rest of the party into the fight, but her spell had forced the former Crusader-Champion to break off her assault for a moment, giving Bargulg the space he needed to properly respond to the onslaught.

[Draconic Breath (Force)] unleashed a cone-shaped storm of magic upon both the floating sword and spectral undead. His Dragonborn Ascendant race allowed him to mimic a true dragon’s breath weapon, but significantly less powerful, and at shorter range. In exchange, he could change the breath to be Fire, Ice, Lightning, Acid, or Force. Of the five, Force was the best suited for dealing with the foes in front of him, for various reasons.

It was one of those simple truths that different elements reacted to different materials in certain ways. Fire and Acid did not do as much to magic steel as they did to flesh, but they still had an effect, over time. Ice could make steel brittle, but it took time, or it could pierce armor, but the floating sword had no wielder to target. Lightning did almost nothing to enchanted steel, but it could course through a blade or metal armor and affect the person behind it. But, again, there was no wielder. Meanwhile, Force just beat the steel with pure kinetic energy, making it more effective in this case, where there were no elemental weaknesses or a living being to suffer the secondary effects of the spells.

Another property of Force as an element of magic was how it affected incorporeal creatures, like ghosts, and other spectral undead. Against such foes unenchanted weapons and attacks were completely useless, passing straight through them. Magic weapons and spells, no matter how powerful they were, had a roughly fifty percent chance of actually damaging an incorporeal foe, even if they were right on target. Unless, of course, they were using Force magic, like the Ghost Blade the Soul of Darkness wielded. Those could hit incorporeal foes every time, making them the most effective weapon against such creatures.

The result? The flying sword went tumbling through the air, out of control as the breath attack rolled over it. The undead, however, managed to weather the attack in place, though he could see that her form was less coherent than it was a moment ago, a sure sign that she had taken damage.

Then Ashera was there, using the power of her new blades to become a figure of living shadow. Incorporeal herself, she could now fight on even terms with the spectre, even if only one of her blades was specifically designed to combat incorporeal foes. In this state, both her blades could strike the Soul of Darkness, and they did, repeatedly, as she unleashed a torrent of cuts, stabs, and slashes. The Silent Blade of Shadows was quickly carving up the former Crusader-Champion, who had been slow to react after the breath attack.

“[Abyssal Bolt]!”

As he moved to block the flying sword from trying to force Ashera to break off her attack, he heard Ena’s voice, and felt a rush of heat, even through his armor. Not nearby, thankfully. No doubt, Ena was helping Ratha with the Dark Saint, keeping her occupied, so that she couldn’t aid the rest of her team. Having superior numbers and practiced teamwork was allowing them to hold their own, for the moment, but he knew this battle was far from done.

The flying sword flew forward like a spear thrust, which he only just managed to deflect. Only for the damnable thing to spin and try to take his head off! If he had been any slower, he would likely be dead, or at least out of the fight. As it was, the blade skipped off his helmet, just barely making contact.

He could hear Tanila’s gun firing, and saw the impacts on the Soul of Darkness, hitting squarely in the head. Of course, a spectral undead didn’t exactly have any vital organs, so a head shot did nothing special to her. But the shots were still good shots, and they did damage all the same.

“[Purge Undead]!” A powerful spell blasted the former Crusader-Champion, this one designed specifically for destroying the undead. Lyrei’s spell ripped through the undead spirit, and she disappeared from the battlefield.

With the undead out of the way, the tide of battle swung firmly in their favor. Well, if it had been an actual battle, then they would have been in far worse shape. The arena style of this fight left the Soul of Darkness vulnerable, since she couldn’t use some of her nastier abilities, like diving down into the ground, and attacking from below, or other such things. While not an assassin, per se, the Banshee line of undead relied mostly on their incorporeal state for their defense. Manage to bypass that, and they were actually comparatively weak, defensively. Of course, they balanced that by having very formidable offensive capabilities, like the scream that would have been deadly, if their helmets hadn’t protected them from the full brunt of the attack.

Now, Bargulg focused all his efforts on countering the flying blade. He even had tome to throw a few quick spells at the blade as they moved back and forth, battering it with simple Magic Missile spells. Not exactly the flashiest of spells, but it was cheap, and it a decent amount of damage. Plus, casting it was almost second nature to him now.

His other pets all converged on the Dark Saint. He could hear their weapons and spells clashing, but he had no time to observe. The blade was still quick and agile, so he needed all his concentration just to keep it at bay. That was fine. Only the adventurers who were deeply insecure felt the pressure to be in on every kill their party got. Those types usually didn’t last long, for one reason or another. Bargulg did not care who killed the enemy, or how, so long as, at the end, they were dead, and he and his pets were not.

He was getting better at reading the sword’s movements, but he could tell the sword was learning his patterns more and more. That was a problem since the blade had no wielder limiting its movements. His wounds started to pile up. Soon, he was struggling to keep up with the blade. It was only his years of experience and ingrained training that had carried him this far. But it wasn’t enough.

The sword came slashing down, in a blow that he knew he didn’t have time to dodge, and would be deadly if he tried to just take the hit. His sword came up ready block the blow, but it never came. Instead, the sword rotated back in a motion that would have been impossible for a physical swordsman, not least of which for the fact that it would have spun through the swordsman’s own head, and thrust forward, under his guard.

In shock, he let his sword fall from his hand, as he looked at the blade buried to the hilt in his chest. With a force of will, he grabbed the hilt with both hands, and held it there, fighting it as it struggled to pull back out of him, or find some way to break free. It hurt. By the gods, did it hurt! But he held. That was his role in this fight.

Then, the sword stopped fighting, and turned to smoke, disappearing from his hand. As he fell to his knees, he heard cries all around him. His vision was blurry. That probably was not good. But it was hard to think about what that meant.

“[Light of Tafalla]!”

Golden light shone in front of him, healing him. His vision cleared, and he saw his pets gathered around him. Ratha looked almost as bad off as he felt. The others, though, seemed to be fine. That was good. It was the job of the vanguards to take hits so that the squishier members of the party didn’t. Otherwise, the formation falls apart.

Breathing easier, now that a sword was no longer sticking through his lung, having barely missed his heart, Bargulg nodded his thanks to Lyrei for her healing magic. “If you all have time to be gathering around me like this, I take it the battle is done? No sign of another fight after this one, right?”

Ena laughed, and said, “No, Master. There’s no sign of another fight. And both a treasure chest and the portals leading either back to the beginning or downward, to the next floor, have appeared.”

“That’s good,” he sighed. “I definitely need a break before our next fight.”