Chapter 175 (Still working out what i’m going to do for chapter 173 bet, will get around to it and eventually figure it out :P) (Patreon)

Chapter 175 (Still working out what i’m going to do for chapter 173 bet, will get around to it and eventually figure it out :P)

The creature was exactly as the hologram had depicted her - a large red and black spider that was a rather pretty creature for an arachnid, which was odd considering how he’d always thought most spiders looked disgusting. Athela’s blood-tipped legs tapped rapidly in excitement as it looked around, and as her two red eyes settled on him – she lifted the two front legs and spread its fangs while getting up on the hind legs. “Hi there, master! How’s your day going?”

Riven was taken aback. The spider could talk? The voice was high pitched, feminine, and was the equivalent to a soft summer’s breeze or wind chimes. It was nice, pleasant to hear, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. Not only was the spider very pretty for an animal, but even its voice was pleasant and friendly?

He gave Athela a mixed expression of confusion and amusement, before getting up and walking over to the dog-sized arachnid. Extending a hand and shaking one of its rather cold, sharpened front legs – he smiled down as it clicked its mandibles together. “You’re rather cute. How’d I get so lucky with my minion choice?”

He could have sworn that the spider flushed pink for a moment before it shook his hand vigorously with dramatic affect.

“Now, now, human; I can’t have you hitting on me right after summoning me. We’re different species and it wouldn’t’ work out.”

***

Riven blinked, and the memory faded.

Chopper blades whirred overhead, creating a symphony of beating metal against the wind as two dozen apache attack helicopters and a couple transports zoomed over the forested landscape beneath.  The birds of prey had come to roost in the dying light of sunset.  Their destination had been set to Dungeon Alibast.

A burning village, a battalion of marching undead, and ruined battlegrounds passed them by.  The front lines were fast approaching, and once they even encountered an elvish strike squadron on horseback running down men from Dawn’s armed forces - only for the apaches to annihilate the elves in a storm of gunfire imbued with power from the machine pillar.  The apaches had been modified by system engineers, classers that could upgrade mechanical units various ways - the equivalent of mages for the machine pillar.  Thus, the imbued arrows and lightning strikes that did manage to connect with the helicopters only burnt out and fizzled away when the plasma shields activated - lighting up the mechanical runes along the sides of the machines’ heavy armor.

The attack finished just as fast as it began - ending in an abrupt bloodbath, and the men of dawn below cheered their thanks while the apaches rapidly passed them by.

“I’m surprised they haven’t surrendered yet.” Riven said through a microphone incorporated into his ‘Messenger’ helmet by one of Chicago’s engineers.  His red eyes shifted over to Allie, who merely shrugged and laughed back at him through the coms.

“Most of their elite troops have been wiped out, but they’re far from done putting up a fight.” Mara yelled over the whirring of the helicopter blades through her own mic, gripping the side of the transport helicopter with white knuckles.  “It’s only guesswork as to why they haven’t given up yet, but some think they’re too proud - and others think their king has gone mad.  Either way, it means more bodies for us from both sides of the conflict and they have a lot of soldiers left.”

“But if this goes right, they might even surrender today.” Allie chimed in through the mic.  “Regardless of if they choose to or not, we still win.  When the war is over we’ll split the land between Dawn and the Necropolis with a third of their empire going to Dawn and two thirds going to us, and I’ve already laid claim to the capital.  It’s a prize I won’t give up, the city is supposed to be full of natural treasures and has an enormous population we can use to our own ends.”

“It is very generous of you to even give them a third, my queen.” Gurth’Rok, the vampiric orc chieftain cut in with a harsh cough.  “We did most of the work in this war.  If it was up to me, I’d have given Dawn nothing.  It was prize enough to save them from eventual disaster and enslavement.”

Allie’s chuckle rang clear.  “True enough, but it is nice to have a real ally for once.  Think of it as an investment.  We can’t just go kill and conquer everyone we see, and lending an olive branch now may prove useful in the future.”

***

The transport choppers ended up landing two miles from the dungeon  on a secluded plateau at the end of the mountain range, dropping off their loads and quickly making a break back towards the necropolis with their apache escort.

Riven watched them go, but eventually turned around when they’d been lost out of sight beyond the mountains in the northeast.  He then abruptly found himself being watched - by everyone.

They expected him to lead.

Fay leaned over and nudged him with a chuckle, tipping her witch’s hat and spreading her wings to encompass his body -armor and all.  Meanwhile, Azmoth just stood beside him with all four arms folded and his massive molten warhammer head-down on the ground.  Allie and Gurth’rok came to stand beside him in solidarity, both turning around with Allie’s hands clasped behind her back and Gurth’rock putting weight on his cobra staff.

“So this is our best and brightest.” Riven said aloud, evaluating them one by one.  “I only very briefly introduced myself earlier, but I’m sure you all know me.  Now it’s my turn to know all of you.  You were all recommended by Allie, Gurth’Rok, or General Bruner - so I expect great things.  Tell me about yourself and what you can do, we’ll start down the line.  Brief descriptions only.”

The group consisted of a mix-and-match of different races, classes, and abilities.  Each of them were in the low to high A-tier brackets - being between levels 49 and 56, and introductions didn’t take long.  Including Riven and his two demons, there were 36 of them total.

There were three cyborg sharpshooters with modified silenced sniper rifles and plasma swords for close combat - but they were primarily for long range fighting and picking off dangerous targets from afar.  Each of them had various and different pieces of their previously human bodies interchanged with technological equivalents, brought about by their pillar orientations and classes, and they each wore form fitting black nanotech armor that was self repairing by nature.

Two hackers and one combat engineer followed next - with the energy hackers being able to not only track energy signatures, but were able to indicate what type of incoming attack would target their group if they identified it fast enough.  Sometimes they were even able to misdirect enemy energy signatures and use it to their own ends - meaning they could turn enemy spells and martial arts around on their casters - hence the ‘hacking’ aspect of their class.  Meanwhile the combat engineer was layered between plates of metal in a medium-sized mech a little bit bigger than Azmoth, with various utility gadgets attached to different appendages that included repair kits, healing rays, a large mining laser, 3D mapping technology and tracking beacons, utility arms for rapid construction, and a couple of self-defense measures that mostly included short range burst fire from a machine gun on one arm.  What was most unique to Riven about the mech though, was that this mech was actually integrated into the machine pillar and sub pillars this man had - becoming an extension of himself by default.  It wasn’t something he could just give up or give away, which wasn’t always apparently the case - but doing this made his mech all that much more powerful because he could level it up.

Twelve warriors in enchanted heavy plate armor made up the front line: comprising of seven muscular orc death knights and three ghoul death knights - who’d actually obtained the real class of deathknight rather than what Allie had referred to her minions as previously, and two hulking flesh golem unholy-berserkers with exposed musculature and metal plates or spikes protruding from around their red-and-white bodies.

Two skeletal skresh assassins, a single ghoul assassin, two human rogues and a lone goblin thief were all present on the subterfuge department - being outfitted with varieties of equipment that gave stealth bonuses.  Each of them had various plasma daggers - which were quickly becoming a staple of the Necropolis forces, enchanted crossbows, silenced pistols, handheld energy bombs supplied by Chicago’s engineers, and a variety of shadow-pillar abilities that attributed to stealth.

Then, lastly, were the mages - not including Riven, Gurth’rok, or Allie.

There was obviously Mara, Nin, and Vin - all of them necromancers and dark arts practitioners.  But there were a couple infernal-based bombardment mages in their ranks too - three humans to be exact, and a defense-oriented orc shaman that was able to cast healing spells and air-based defensive domes - having forgone the transition into the unholy foundational pillar at Riven’s altar in favor of keeping the fae foundational pillar.  Healers were a rarity, so it turned out, thus the shaman was highly valued - as was Gurth’Rok the orc chieftain and the utility-based combat engineer concerning his mech’s healing rays.

Unlike the shaman though, Gurth’rok HAD taken the plunge into the unholy pillar.  He’d had to after his vampiric heritage clashed with his Fae pillar, and it’d meant he’d had to relearn a bunch of new spells.  However, the transition hadn’t been a complete reset - because many of his old spells had been mutated or warped into unholy versions of their fae counterparts.  This ended up giving Gurth’Rok a lot of blood-related spells that were actually healing oriented, and Riven in hindsight probably would need to learn at least one of them from the orc in time.  The problem was that his blood pillar was filling up in terms of runic space, and they’d even started transitioning to etch themselves into his soul core rather than the pillar itself.  He had room for potentially one to three more blood based abilities in his pillar - depending on runic size, and a few more in his core from any orientation.  Not all spells took up the same amount of space.  When the blood sub pillar filled up, Riven wouldn’t be able to create the sigils needed for lock-and-key access to new spells unless they were of different pillar orientation - as the other pillars he had could place their own oriented spells on their part of the soul aperture, but they wouldn’t allow spells oriented to other pillars to be drawn onto them - unlike his core which was a free for all.  He currently had Bloody Razors, Crimson Ice, Blood Lance, and Blood Nova - with the two particular spells Crimson ice and Blood Nova taking up enormous portions of his blood sub pillar just by themselves when compared to the others.  Not immediately, but soon if he wanted to learn new blood spells after his core filled up: he’d need to start sacrificing other abilities to learn them.

So he had to choose wisely on which new abilities he wanted for the future.

“Let me be clear.” Riven said, slamming the butt of his spear-staff into the ground with the black blade pointing upwards.  “I am here to help ensure your safety, but I want this experience to go to all of you.  I will intervene if I feel it is absolutely necessary in order to save your lives, but I cannot promise you won’t die.  I’ll do my best, but the coming world quests will need more than just me to see them through.  We have liches, snow giants, invaders from out of this world and more that we don’t even know about coming to fuck our day up.”

He let his words sink in, watching the firm expressions of his soldiers unwaveringly stare back at him.  Riven nodded in approval.  “We are entering this dungeon for the same reason we are allowing this senseless war with Tereen to continue: it is because we are in the business of raising this world’s elites to combat the bigger threats of the future.  Conflict breeds heroes in this new multiverse, and though I’m sure not all of you will make it that far - I’m willing to bet that some of you will.  This venture into the dungeon is going to be on all of your shoulders.  From this expedition and later expeditions: Allie and I will select future guildmates to accompany us regularly to participate in only god knows what when the guild system finally comes.  I am told by our allies in the Blood Moon Requiem that guilds have a large part to play in upcoming events across the multiverse, even beyond this planet, so do your best to impress us.  Think of this almost as a tryout.  You’ll be evaluated the entire way through - but all of you already knew that when you signed up, didn’t you?”

He got nods and grunts of acknowledgement from the party in front of him.

“Dungeon Alibast, as many of you know, has been supplying Tereen with many of its dungeon creatures to fight alongside the elves in the war.  By estimates, it should have a couple thousand creatures inside it even right now despite sending most of its forces to help aid the enemy.” Riven continued, red blood-silk flaps off his lower back armor rustling in the breeze.  “I do not intend to outright destroy the dungeon.  This dungeon will be temporarily put down in favor of looting the wares it has, and if all goes well - we’ll be able to do so a few times before it either relocates entirely or becomes a training dungeon for us.  We’ll see how things go.  Now, aside from myself you’ll all be participating - including my sister Allie, my minions who need the levels as well, and Gurth’Rok.  There may come a time where we split up into teams, but only for short intervals.  No need to senselessly waste such good talent on a training expedition - so most of the expedition is going to be together where I can intervene if need be.  Any questions?”

“No sir!” One of the cyborg sharpshooters called out, and many of the others shook their heads in silence.

“Good.  I expect great things from all of you.  Now let’s move out.”

***

The dungeon’s entrance was an enormous cave, built into the side of the last mountain in the chain; where a couple dozen large plant-like humanoids were playing cards with high elf sentries.  The plant-like creatures were called ‘Lesser Dryads’ even by the system, and they were the dominant dungeon creature that Dungeon Alibast produced.  Aside from that, there’d been a number of other plant-type monsters that ranged from carnivorous walking trees and flowers, to living, rolling masses of vines that sucked the blood and bile right out of your body.  There’d also been a few reports on greater dryads too, though they were patchy and contradicted one another at the best of times.

“Stealth team A is in position, targets have been eliminated on the eastern slope.”

“Stealth team B is position.”

“Overwatch team is in position.”

“Bombardment team is on standby and ready to nuke em.”

Riven clicked his tongue, watching from the hillside where a dead elf archer was held by his snapped neck - one of many that would be raised from the dead to act as temporary cannon fodder by the necromancers.  He mentally activated his coms.  “Begin.”

Immediately three of the sentries standing around the table watching the card game were decapitated in single-strike blasts of targeted gunfire.  The shock from the dryads as well as the elves was only short lived, but it was enough time for the sniper rifles to take out another four of their number.

“WE’RE UNDER ATTACK!” One of the elves, a young man with blonde hair and a white longsword yelled out while drawing it from a scabbard.

He was quickly cut down by a skeletal hand wielding a dagger as one of the skresh assassins ruptured from a nearby shadow.

The defenders died within seconds, and Riven nodded in appreciation at the skill these soldiers showed while coming down from his hiding place at a vantage point.

Stopping near the man who’d called out to try and raise the alarm, Riven frowned.  He wondered just what kind of lies he’d been told, what kind of pay he’d been enticed with, what morals he held that allowed him to stay here and fight this war.  Perhaps the young man wasn’t all that different from himself, or at least he might not have been before becoming a corpse.

“They started this war.” Allie reminded him upon seeing his gaze linger on the dead young man - barely older than a boy.  “They were committing atrocities, purging entire villages and towns - enslaving people from Dawn without cause and treating those slaves a lot more brutally than you allow us to do with the elvish prisoners of war.  Remember that.”

Riven didn’t look back, and instead he turned towards the cave entrance - peering into the darkness.  “Yes.  I know.”

***

George Kalsky’s yellow bionic eye zoomed down the iron sight of his silenced sniper rifle on thought.  Positioning on a ledge that overlooked the roaring battle below, he took a moment to soak in the field.

As a previous Navy Seal, he’d had his fair share of warfare.  But this was a lot more intense than what he’d been used to back on his mission in the Middle East and southern Asia.  The line of heavily armored, fully plated death knights were beating back a horde of carnivorous vines akin to snakes, as well as a multitude of their plant-like dryad masters that looked like people carved from wood, stems and flowers or other different plants.  Heavy metal tower shields were held out in front of the knights as each of them wielded swords that let off soul flame of neon-teal and black energies.  The death magic ripped through the plants, and various body-enhancements were obviously in full glow as they carved through the dungeon’s defenses like a meat grinder, but their main job was to tank for the real damage doers in the back.

Black holes overhead soaked in both light and life as the necromancers continued to suck in enemies and raise the dead - sending the undead creations back into the still living dryads in a never ending wave. Blasts of fire akin to mortars and bombs tore holes in the hundreds of racing enemies charging their position - decimating the underground caverns that’d once been littered with flowering plants.  Stealth-based classers vanished in and out of the shadows on the sidelines, killing stragglers or enemies that’d been separated from the main groups - while also looking out for enemy stealth types that were few and far between but still occasionally present.

Feeling the pulse of his armaments pillar, flare in his soul, George set his sights on one of the backline druid casters and began channeling the tier 2 martial art: ‘True Shot’ - one of the most basic, but one of the most useful abilities of his class.

The silenced sniper rifle, a magnificent sleek black gun half the size he was, shimmered with pale light and let an infused projectile rocket out of the chamber.  Tearing through the air, the bullet infused with ‘True Shot’ passed by an erected energy shield and made contact with the first physical item behind it - the shaman’s heart.

[You have landed a critical hit.  Max Damage x9.]

The dryad’s chest blew out the back, showering his allies in gorey plant matter to the enraged screams of the other defenders.

Grinning wolfishly, George turned his closely shaved head to the next target and readjusted his aim.  This time it was a mutant treeant, a large, hulking humanoid created out of thick bark, branches, and enormous limbs.  It was gigantic, racing straight for the front line and shrugging off flaming bolts of fire and darkness that the backline casters, but it wasn’t about to get there alive.

He channeled another True Shot and fired.  The bullet howled through the air, slamming into the tough defenses of the treeant’s hide and completely ignoring the outer layer of energy shielding the creature - but the thick bark was more than just for show.  The bullet, as fast as it was, only lodged in half an inch and caused the treeant to stagger.

“Shit.”

Getting to one knee and making sure that there wasn’t any enemy coming up from behind, he exposed himself to activate another ability: Plasma Cannon.

It was the very first skill he’d acquired from the Armaments pillar, and it temporarily shifted his arm into a weapon.  Holding out his right hand in a straight line, his entire arm began to change.  Metal pieces quickly shifted, churned, rotated and clicked into place as his fingers were reincorporated into his body and a long hollow steel barrel glowing with orange light replaced it.  Neon lights etched through lines of power across his entire extremity, and a whirring noise began to rumble within the limb as small fan-like blades began to rotate inside.

*THRUM*

The orange energies congregated, forming an orb inside the small cannon attached to his arm - and he took a more careful aim as he felt the plasma begin to charge.  A percentage counter began ticking up, letting him know what kind of energy output he’d unleash.

178 V.

204 V.

267 V.

305 V.

He didn’t know what the ‘V’ stood for, but it definitely correlated to the power output of his cannon - and when his arm started to shake and overhead around 509 V he let the cannon rip.

The ball of orange energy roared forward and rocked the room, nearly blowing him backwards with an aftershock as the ball of plasma collided head on with the incoming tree giant.

The monster roared as half its body shattered into splinters of wood.  It fell over, crushing many of the dryads underneath it that were madly rushing ahead - and George’s arm began to simmer with heat as it cooled down.

“Fuck yeah!” He muttered to himself with a smile, narrowly dodging a wooden spike that was launched in retaliation from the enemy backlines

And that’s when he heard the crunch of wood on stone behind him.

Eyes narrowing he whirled barely seeing the incoming root before he dodged left.

The root passed him by and skewered the stone he’d been laying on, then whipped back around and retracted into a green woman with vines for hair and a pink flower for her left eye that covered half her face.  She wore a long dress made of interwoven leaves, and her legs trailed with roots that supported her weight and helped her move as if her feet were hovering a few inches above ground.

She hummed with amusement and held up a hand as George raised a pistol - deflecting numerous bullets as the semi-automatic weapon chipped away at the bark shield she conjured.  “Quite the little rascal, aren’t you?”

Her voice was like honey, too human for George’s liking, and he quickly drew out a plasma knife from his belt that flared to life with neon light.  Yellow rectangular runes of the machine pillar began to light up his arms and legs as body empowerment abilities activated, and he set himself into a combat-ready  stance for close combat.

[Greater Dryad, Wood Priestess, Level 70 Elite]

The notification glowed in golden flames, signifying the ‘Elite’ Status that he’d heard rumors about but hadn’t actually seen until now.  And she was level 70 to his level 55.

This did not look good.

But he steadied himself anyways, ready to match her attack as she simply smiled and blinked back at him through the roar of battle.

Then another figure appeared from the hallway from whence the expedition had come.  And then another, and another, and then even more.  They poured in, silently evaluating the battle from the ledge George had decided to use as a vantage point - and his body grew cold when he saw the last of the figures emerge from around the bend.  She was only a little girl and looked a lot like the dryads did.  She had vines and leaves for hair and half of her right arm was covered in bark, but her small body was otherwise created from green stalk and dozens of small flowers.

[Greater Dryad, Wood Priest, Level 61 Elite]

[Greater Dryad, Flower Priestess, Level 72 Elite]

[Greater Dryad, Earth Shaman, Level 69 Elite]

[Reincarnation of Gaia, Planet Earth-based Demigoddess, Level 103, Legendary]

The little girl looked up to George, studied him through narrowed hazel eyes, and frowned.  “George… Why are you attacking me?”

Caught off guard by the monster knowing his name, George abruptly took a step back.  “Huh?  Do I know you?”

“I know all of the people who were born on my world… or at least I used to.”  The little girl put on a sad smile.  Then she walked over, unperturbed by the violence below, and stood to watch the massacre of her people.  “George… Can you bring Allie and Riven to me so I may speak with them?”

She turned around, a bastion of innocence.  “I do believe there has been a misunderstanding.”