Dragon Mage 089 - Horrified (Patreon)

374 days until the Arkon Shield falls

21 hours until Dungeon Purge

Chief Zel Foghorn,

I appreciate the updates, but why haven’t I heard back from you about the human? He is in your quadrant, I am sure of it. Don’t disappoint me.

—High Shaman Orgtul Silverbane.

The room had only one exit, a door on the room’s right wall. Peeking within, we saw it led to another long corridor, which by all indications was identical to the previous one we had just traversed. I sighed. Really?

Pierre’s lips turned down at the sight too. “I guess I’ll be on point searching for traps again.”

Jain nodded and waved him forward.

To no one’s surprise, the ranger found the first trap a few yards within the corridor. A deadweight had been hung over a false floor. The trap was simple enough to bypass, though, and walking gingerly around it, we ventured onwards.

But it was only the first of many.

We spent the next few hours navigating past a series of more traps. I wondered at their purpose. For all that the traps were well-disguised, now that we knew to look out for them, they did not offer much threat. Still, they costed us time. Each trap had to be first found, then disarmed or circumvented. The net effect was that two hours later, we were still crossing a stretch of corridor that should have taken less than ten minutes to traverse.

Was that the trap’s purpose? Simply to slow us down? If that was the case, though, the dungeon’s design could not be happenchance. It had to be deliberate. Who then was the architect? The Trials? It could only be it.

I already knew that the entity that controlled Overworld was intelligent, but the more evidence I saw of Trials’ agency, the more I wondered at its purpose and motivation.

Why create Overworld in the first place? What was the purpose of this dungeon? And most puzzling of all, why had it spoken to me? Despite knowing all these questions to be unanswerable, I couldn’t help pondering them again.

“Does no one else find this dungeon strange?” I asked abruptly.

Cedric walking beside me didn’t deign to reply.

“It’s depressingly boring, that’s for sure,” Liyanda replied.

Jain chuckled. After glancing ahead to make sure Pierre was still fine, he turned to me. “I know why Li thinks it’s boring, but why do you find it strange?”

I ticked off points on my fingers. “No normal creatures. Empty tunnels. No loot. And traps, so many traps.” I gestured around me. “What possible purpose could this complex have served in a domain, dead or not?”

“So you know about the deadlands?” Jain asked, unable to conceal his surprise.

No doubt he was wondering just how I learned that bit of lore, but I made no attempt to explain. They had their secrets, and I had mine. “Yeah, I do,” I said. “So, what do you think? What purpose did this dungeon serve?”

Jain shrugged. “Who could know the mind of whatever strange alien species created it. There could be dozens of explanations, none of which may make any sense to us.”

“Or this could all be purely the Trials’ work,” Cedric interjected quietly. “There is no evidence to suggest that this place was previously inhabited.”

So the death mage thought as I did. “Why, though? Why create such a dungeon?” I asked.

Cedric grimaced. “I have no idea.” He shot me a glance. “You obviously have a theory.”

I nodded. “What if—”

“We’re here,” Pierre said, rejoining us.

As one, the group turned to stare down the tunnel. The ranger was standing a few feet away with his arms folded.

And beyond him was another door.

✽✽✽

The door, like the tunnel we’d just navigated, was identical to the first and similarly boobytrapped, I assumed.

“Is it trapped?” Jain asked, voicing the same thought.

Pierre waved aside the rogue’s concern. “Already disarmed. We can enter whenever we’re ready.”

“Positions, everyone,” Jain ordered. After we fell into formation, he turned to the ranger. “Open it.”

Pierre strode forward, leaving the rest of us gathered about ten yards from the door. “No control ward this time?” I asked Jain curiously while we waited.

He shook his head. “I can only use it once per day. Besides, all the others have the same ability. Pierre will place the ward if necessary.”

I nodded thoughtfully and turned back to the door. The ranger was looking our way. Jain jerked his head down once in acknowledgment, and Pierre pushed the door open.

Sitting in the center of the room, head bowed and seemingly asleep, was a humanoid shape. The creature was covered from head to foot in an exoskeleton that looked like it served as the creature’s armor. Reaching out with my will, I cast analyze.

The target is a level 120 armored horror. It has no Magic, no Craft, and is gifted with Resilience and has exceptional Might. Additional information revealed by anatomy: this is a creature champion.

“Another creature champion?” I whispered in disbelief. No one replied, but I could sense their sudden excitement.

This second horror was built low to the ground, and in comparison to the first, was stout and stumpy. At multiple points, the pale-yellow bone of its exoskeleton grew into elongated spikes, some a foot long. This foe, I realized, would rely primarily on strength and toughness.

Opening my magesight, I examined the creature further. Like the first horror, this one’s spirit was torn, as if it had been ripped apart. What could have caused that? I wondered. And what did it mean?

The horror’s head tilted upwards with creaking slowness. It was aware of our presence. Setting aside further speculation about the creature, I looked to Jain, waiting for his instructions.

“Send in your pet, Cedric,” the rogue ordered. “Let it tank that monster.”

The armored horror rose to its feet and lumbered our way. Fine tremors rippled across the floor after each deliberate step it took. Cedric’s pet sped forward. Despite its awkward gait, the undead horror closed on its foe before the creature could reach the doorway.

As the two horrors—living and undead—clashed, the rest of us slipped into the room. Following the exact tactics we had before, Pierre, Cedric, and I spread out along the room’s back wall while Liyanda and Jain advanced to engage the armored horror from up close. Given our new foe’s lack of speed, we had ample time to maneuver, and I took a moment to watch the battle unfold before I launched dragonfire.

The rogue and fighter had split apart and were moving to flank the creature while its attention was still focused on the reanimated horror. Cedric’s new pet was faring better than the previous one. This undead was actually dodging and had already scored several deep lines through its foe’s bone armor. At the same time, the undead had managed not to be struck in turn.

I frowned, wondering as to this startingly improvement in the performance of Cedric’s pet. Turning to the death mage, I opened my mouth to voice my question, only to close it as I caught the fixed expression on his face. Sweat beaded the mage’s forehead, and his eyes were narrowed in concentration.

My frown deepened. Was Cedric piloting his pet directly? It certainly appeared that way from the effort the mage seemed to be expending. I turned back to the battle, deciding not to disturb him.

Pierre had begun his own assault, but his arrows were proving even less effective than they had in the last encounter. Liyanda and Jain did only slightly better. Both had struck the creature multiple times already, but neither had managed to do more than shave off slivers from our foe’s bone armor yet.

I had seen enough. It was time to act. Picking my moment with care, I hurled a fire ray at my target. The flame lance scorched through the air to strike the armored horror in the face.

To no notable effect.

I hit it again. Twice, then trice more.

All my attacks failed spectacularly.

The creature did not even pause to glare my way. I grimaced. My magic was making even less of a dent than the others’ efforts. Lowering my staff, I considered the battle.

Our foe was slow. Its attacks were heavy and ponderous, and while I suspected even a single blow from its armored fists would be devastating, Jain, the piloted-undead, and even Liyanda were able to dodge its attacks without undue effort. The party was in no immediate danger.

On the other hand, the armored horror was frightfully hardy. Its exoskeleton shrugged off both physical and magical strikes with ease. It was obvious that to break through our foe’s defenses, we would have to expend considerable time and energy battering at the creature.

Both of which were in short supply.

The armored horror was only the second foe we had encountered in the dungeon, but like the previous one, it was a creature champion, and I couldn’t help but wonder how many more such creatures we’d face.

I have to use my magic sparingly, I thought. Given our one-day time limit, I would have little chance to rest and recover between encounters. My gaze drifted to Cedric. Was that why the death mage had chosen to pilot his pet instead of using decaying ray? Was he, too, conserving mana?

“Why aren’t you attacking?” Pierre asked.

“We have to speed this up,” I replied.

“What? How?” he asked.

“I have an idea, but I need to get closer,” I murmured and strode forward.

Behind me, I heard Pierre curse. “Stop, you fool!” he hissed. “You can’t go there, not without clearing it with Jain first.”

Ignoring the incensed ranger, I kept advancing.

“Come back here!” Pierre yelled.

At the ranger’s shout, Jain glanced over his shoulder and, seeing my approach, broke off from the skirmish to intercept me. “What are you doing?” he asked in a clipped tone.

“This is taking too long,” I said. “And I’m only wasting mana hurling fire from afar.”

Jain’s eyes hardened. “You have a better idea?”

“Actually, I do,” I replied. Lowering my staff to the ground, I began casting wilting ward. “Get back,” I ordered.

The party leader’s lips tightened at the command, but he didn’t protest. Taking two quick steps backward, he shifted sideways to keep one eye on both me and the still-raging skirmish.

Magic flowed out of me to soak the ground as I emplaced both trap and trigger. When I was done, I raised my staff and glanced at the rogue. “Can you lure it here?”

Jain’s eyes darted from me to the spelled ground at my feet, which he couldn’t see but surely knew was there. Nodding curtly, he swung back to the battle. “Li, Cedric, break right!” he barked.

The fighter cast Jain a startled glance. She did as ordered, though. Disengaging from the horror, Liyanda retreated to the right of the room with Cedric’s pet trailing in her wake.

The armored horror turned to follow, but before it could pursue the pair, the rogue dashed forward and struck it across the back. Swinging around, the creature advanced on him instead.

Jain backstepped towards me. I observed carefully, lest he triggered the wilting ward himself, but without any guidance from me, the rogue navigated a wide arc around the spelled ground.

When Jain slipped past me, the armored horror shifted its gaze from him to me. From less than two yards away, the creature loomed menacingly, leaving me to suddenly question the wisdom of my ploy, but I held my ground. My target took a step forward, and I retreated myself. It was now heading directly towards the trap I’d set.

The armored horror advanced another step, then another.

The ward triggered.

Between one instant and the next, the already slow creature’s motion slowed even further, leaving it barely moving. I smiled. The spell had worked.

From behind me, I sensed the approach of the rest of the party. I turned to Jain. “Now,” I said, “there should be no need to dodge. Go whack at it to your heart’s content.”

✽✽✽

The party rained down blows on the armored horror in an almost ceaseless cycle of attacks for the next few minutes. Even I participated, wielding my staff like a club. It was like beating at a stone wall and about as effective.

But with the creature effectively frozen—by repeated castings of wilting ward—the party’s melee fighters were able to concentrate their attacks on its vulnerable spots and, slowly but surely, they chipped away at its defenses.

Eventually, the armored horror collapsed, giving up its hold on life with a tortured wail. After the creature fell to the ground, a Trials message scrolled through my mind.

Congratulations, Jamie Sinclair, you have killed your fifth creature champion. Your Lone Slayer Feat has advanced to rank 3, evolving its Techniques.

Slayer’s boon: When fighting a creature champion on your own, you are blessed with an aura that increases your damage by 6%.

Tenacious: When fighting a creature champion on your own, you are blessed with an aura that reduces the damage you take by 6%.

I smiled. The evolution of my Lone Slayer Feat was an unexpected surprise, but it seemed the rewards I’d earned didn’t end there. There was another alert waiting for my attention, and I opened it.

You have gained in experience and are now a level 62 Trainee.

My smile widened. Two levels earned too. Despite the seeming emptiness of this dungeon, I couldn’t complain about my advancement rate.

“Quick thinking there,” Jain said.

Blinking to refocus my gaze, I swung around. The rogue had walked up to me unnoticed.

“If you hadn’t acted…” Jain shook his head. “Let’s just say you probably saved us a good hour of thankless hacking.”

I bowed my head. “Just doing my job as the party support,” I murmured.

Jain smiled. “You’re proving to be a bit more than that.”

Before I could respond, motion to my left drew my attention. Cedric was stomping towards us, and he did not look best pleased.

“What spell was that?” the death mage demanded, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

My brows drew down. I was uncertain about the reason for his sudden animosity, but I saw no reason to lie. “Wilting ward,” I replied.

“Wilting—?” Cedric exclaimed. “Impossible!”

I frowned. “Why?”

“Why?” Cedric sputtered. “‘Why,’ he asks?” he repeated, his voice rising an octave. He spun to face Jain. “What does he take me for? A fool?” Not waiting for an answer, the mage stalked off, muttering to himself.

My face scrunched up in confusion. “What was that about?” I wondered aloud.

Jain chuckled. “It’s a rare spell, right?”

I nodded, eyes still on the mage’s retreating figure. “Is he okay?”

“Don’t worry about Cedric. He’s just jealous.”

“Jealous?”

“Cedric’s been pestering me to save up for a wilting ward spellbook for ages now, but I’ve flat-out denied him.”

I stared at him blankly.

“You do know how expensive rare spellbooks are, don’t you?” Jain asked.

“Err…”

Jain laughed. “Nevermind, don’t answer. It’s clear enough you don’t. Let’s just say the damn thing would’ve cost at least half our gear.”

I blinked. “It’s that expensive?”

The rogue’s smile faded. “However, you got your hands on the spellbook, you’re fortunate indeed to have managed it.” He rubbed at his chin. “Although, after seeing how effective the spell is, I’m wondering if I made the right choice in deciding to invest in the reanimate dead scrolls instead.”

I nodded thoughtfully. It seemed there was still a lot I had to learn about Overworld’s economy and about spellcrafting too. It had been on the tip of my tongue to ask why Cedric hadn’t just created the spell—as I had—but something had held me back. If it was that easy, as badly as the death mage appeared to want the spell, I was sure he would’ve done it already.

I refocused on Jain. “What now?”

“We break for an hour before resuming our dungeon run. Get what rest you can.”

I nodded. My gaze drifted to Cedric. The mage was sitting by himself in one corner of the room. I strode his way. It was time to have a longer chat with him about magic, I thought.