Soulweaver 91: The Viking (Patreon)

“That’s Eskil Magnussen,” I said, looking at the giant fighting in the distance. If his roars of Odin and Valhalla weren’t enough, the way he fought easily marked him as… Different. “A Viking… Or so he calls himself,” I hurriedly added. “He’s Dominion’s Champion.”

“That right? Another Champion?” Richard said, looking at Eskil with a newfound appreciation.  “And here I was thinking I’d gotten a headstart. So that’s Dominion’s boy, eh?” “And a Viking, no less. They’re ancient folk from my world. Made a profession of raiding England—my country—although, back then, I suppose it was called Anglo Saxony. How curious. I should very much like to have a chat.”

“Yeah, um, I’m not sure if he wants to talk to you,” I said. “He’s… not quite normal.”

I filled Richard in on the events surrounding Eskil’s procession. The shit-covered ax, the blasphemy against Dominion, and a quick summary of the events that followed, though I omitted Aerion and my involvement for the sake of brevity. We were on a barge about to encounter a horde of dangerous beasts, after all.

I finished my explanation just before we arrived, and by then, Richard’s impression of the man had devolved from curiosity to concern.

“I believe I understand your reservations,” Richard said, staring soberly at the warrior who screamed at the top of his lungs as he hacked a Hobgoblins apart. “At any rate, I believe lending our aid works to all of our benefit. We do need to break through that horde to get to the Dungeon’s core, yes?”

Aerion turned the barge, avoiding the throng that surrounded Eskil, and it was only then that I noticed he wasn’t just fighting them off—he was moving. Very slowly. Toward the enormous floating sphere that was the dungeon’s core.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said, more to myself than anyone.

“He walked across the snowfield?” Aerion asked, equally as astonished.

“That can’t be,” Richard said as the truth dawned on him as well. “You mean to say he’s been fighting them off this whole time?”

“Seems that way,” I said as we circled the horde. It was mostly made up of Hobgoblins, but I saw the same dog-like monsters and the razor-mouth hedgehogs, too. “And by the looks of things, he must not have taken much time at all to get here.”

I couldn’t be sure how many troops this Cataclysm Dungeon had, but I was pretty sure it was a whole lot more than just the hundred-odd creatures surrounding him.

Still…

“Why is he so damn strong?”

“Mate, I’m just as puzzled as you,” Richard said. I hadn’t even meant to voice the thought aloud, but neither Richard nor myself—who’d had the honor of being thrown into a high-level starter dungeon—even came close to that guy’s Herculean strength. He was not only holding his own against the Commanders, but even pushing them back.

And it wasn’t just Commanders he had to worry about. He had a whole damn army attacking him from every angle.

“Is he actually invincible?” Aerion asked in disbelief.

“Certainly looks like that, doesn’t it?” Richard said. “I believe we may have been premature thinking he needs our help. I reckon we could maybe use his.”

“He’s not,” I said. “Invincible, I mean. Are you?”

“Gods, no,” Richard replied.

“Then I don’t see why one Champion would be while the others aren’t. I think he’s just strong. Really, really strong. But he can die.”

“You think we ought to rush in and help, then?” Richard asked.

I shook my head. “No. We’ll use him as a diversion. That’ll help us both. We’ll occupy some of the monsters as we push our way to the core, while Eskil continues to keep the majority of the horde’s attention. As much as I hate to admit it, he’s a much bigger threat to them than even the three of us combined.”

“You got that right, mate,” Richard said. “Alright, then. Let’s have at it, shall we?”

“I’m going to plow them,” Aerion said out of the blue, causing both of us to turn to her.

“Uh… You sure that’s a good idea, Aerion?” I asked. “This thing isn’t exactly stable.”

“It is, in a straight line,” Aerion said. “And it’s tall. Tall enough to smash apart most of the monsters.”

We’d been circling around the periphery of the hundred-something monsters attacking Eskil, and until now, nobody had noticed we weren’t one of their own. That would change the instant we began plowing into the other section of the horde—the one that defended the ‘entrance’ to the core.

At least, I assumed that was the entrance, given all the grunts guarding it. Monsters that looked distinctly more and more panicked the closer Eskil got.

Aerion’s idea wasn’t necessarily a bad one. People think of guns and swords when they think of killing people, but few realize just how devastating a force a vehicle is. It’s called Vehicular Manslaughter for a reason. Our barge might not have been made of steel and aluminum, but wood was just as good when it was going as fast as we were.

The only question was whether we’d survive our own attack, or whether we’d be flung right into the enemy mob.

On the other hand, I wasn’t sure if dismounting and attacking would work any better. 

“Alright,” I said. “Let’s do this. And let’s all of us pray to our respective gods that we live to tell the tale.”

— — 

Aerion did one last circle around Eskil, who was so embroiled in the act of killing that he’d failed to notice us, and slammed the speed lever all the way forward.

The barge bucked and lurched as it picked up speed, and Richard and I had to brace. This thing might not be able to turn very well, but it sure could move. I assumed something magical powered it.

There had still been a good hundred yards between Eskil’s horde and the ones that guarded the invisible ‘entrance’ to the floating core. Just like the one that sucked us into the dungeon, the entrance was more like a teleporter than an actual gate, so there was nothing physically there. We didn’t even have a precise point we were aiming for. Just ‘under the enormous floating sphere’.

Did we have to aim for the center? Would it suck us in once we got close? The distinct lack of guards beneath the core gave me a pretty big clue. If I was right, we wouldn’t have to make it very far at all.

Problem was, when you have a hundred enormous Hobgoblins forming a wall, even making it a few feet was an accomplishment.

The guards who initially thought we were friendly now very obviously knew otherwise. Just that it was awfully hard to stop a speeding barge without a barge of their own, and none were in the area. 

We’d made sure of that on the way over.

Panic swelled through their ranks, and a handful routed. Those were the smart ones. The dumb ones, unfortunately, made up the vast majority of the ranks, and they all stood as firm as rocks.

“Everybody brace for impact!” Aerion cried. She needn’t have. I had already sat down, braced my feet against the mast, and grabbed a hold of the railing, and so had Richard. Aerion just gripped the levers with all of her strength..

 It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough.

Aerion was the first to go. The barge bucked and shattered the instant we hit the crowd, and Aerion rocketed forward, flying off the barge.

Richard and I  were no exceptions, but instead of flying off, we slid forward to hit the forward control column Aerion had been at. Which was worse.

I felt a piercing pain in my shoulder, and prayed to all the gods that nothing was broken. With no medical facilities and no miracle water, I’d be fucked if it was. We all would.

The moment my eyes refocused and the pain subsided enough for me to think, I was back on my feet looking for Richard. 

I found him lying face down in the snow, along with my poleax. My backpack was a few feet away.

As was a horde of monsters.

Ignoring the pain in my shoulder, I grabbed my poleax and Aerion’s backpack as quickly as possible, and used my free hand to pull Richard—surprisingly easily thanks to my strength—up to his feet. His eyes opened and he spit out a ball of snow, looking very dazed.

I didn’t have the time to help him, because Aerion was nearby, and while she seemed to have landed well, there were about a dozen Hobgoblins on their way.

The good news was that, while risky as expected, our gambit had worked. What we were fighting was the back line of the guards. If we took them out fast, we could conceivably rush the gate before the others got to us.

The bad news was that without Richard, we had almost no chance, and Richard was too busy puking into the snow right now to use his powers.

Ignoring the Champion, I made a beeline for Aerion. Realizing I wouldn’t make it in time, I hurled my poleax at the nearest Hob.

It missed, but it did stop their advance, forcing them to look at me instead. 

That got about a half dozen of the brutes to break off, leaving Aerion with six to deal with on her own. I saw her explode forward in a move that could only mean she’d activated [Reave], but that was the last I saw. I had my own battle to deal with.

“Alright, Philip,” I muttered under my breath. “Let’s see if your training keeps me alive.”

Deep snow, in the cold, fighting monsters twice my size. About as bad as conditions could get, but hey, at least I knew what I was doing now. Kinda.

I ducked beneath the first Hob’s punch, activating [Light of the Fearless] as I swiped through the thick fur that covered his ribs. My shoulder screamed in protest, but something allowed me to ignore it. Like it was a thousand miles away—not really there. 

The blade cut cleanly through, gouging deep. The Hob went down howling, and I moved forward to the next one, carrying the motion of my slice into a sideways swipe, aimed for its legs.

The Hob lifted its foot in defense, but the snow that hobbled me hobbled them just as much, and the Hob was a moment too slow. [Shadow of the Fearless] activated and cut through its legs—not cutting them off, but doing enough damage to bring the Hob to its knees.

I was ready with my sword, and drove the blade through its chin and into its skull, killing it instantly.

The third and the fourth hobs rushed me at the same time, swinging down with their clubs. With Light of the Fearless lodged firmly inside the dead Hob’s corpse, I didn’t have a chance in hell of retrieving it in time, so I didn’t even try.

Opening my Spatial Inventory, I fired my Steel mace at the one on the left and my shield at the other. Getting the shield to fit in the 3 x 3 space had been impossible, so I’d had Rogar lop off a bit to make it smaller and lighter.

Even so, its pointed end made a plenty lethal weapon when launched out of a cosmic interspatial inventory.

Both weapon and shield hit their mark, and while they didn’t do a whole lot of damage to the durable Hobs, they did buy me time. Time enough to grab the shield, hurriedly passing my arm through its arm loop, and free Light of the Fearless.

I stabbed one through the gut and sliced at the other’s knees until it finally fell, then I killed that one, too.

Panting, I mustered my energy and started plod-running as fast as I could towards Aerion.

I stopped a couple of steps later.

Aerion didn’t need any help. All six of her Hobs lay dead in the snow, and Aerion was grinning.

“You look happy,” I said, eyeing the carnage. It wasn’t pretty.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Aerion said in a voice at least a full octave higher than her usual. “I ranked up! I’m Emergence, now. And I’ve just gained a wonderful new ability!”

I gave her a wry smile, thinking of Richard’s reaction earlier. He’d been horrified at the act of killing when he’d arrived. Aerion, however, had long since gotten past those inhibitions. So had I.

I had to wonder what the more natural reaction was… And who was more broken.