The tunnel burrowed even deeper into the earth, this time ending in a hole that led to a vertical drop. I braced myself and dropped down through the hole, touching down with a dry crack.
Right into a pile of mummified corpses, part of a mountain that nearly reached the top of the cavern. Every single one of the corpses seemed to have had the moisture sucked out of them, their dry skin stretched thin against their frames, their expressions permanently stuck in a terrified look.
A few paces ahead of me, sitting atop the very peak of the mountain of corpses, was the Parched Baron.
He was a small, thin man, with pointed ears and a bald head. Much like the corpses below him, his deathly pale skin was dry as parchment, stretched so thinly over his body that you could see the outline of his bones through his clothes. He wore what looked like the ragged remains of finery, and I could spot several pieces of gold jewellery wound around his fingers and throttling his neck.
Storymode taking over again, I involuntarily approached the Baron, bringing Sorrow out with a wave of my hand.
“Champion…” the Parched Baron hissed, his voice coming out like the wheeze of boiled water in a kettle. “Have you come to slay me once more?”
“I am glad that we have an understanding,” I twirled my dagger with a sick set of flourishes that I would never be able to emulate on my own. “I’ll bury you with cold iron this time, so that you may never return.”
“You will not. The Prince of Ruin… he has given me power.” the Baron chuckled. “Power to escape this prison. Power to defeat that Princess. Power to claim Briarwood as my own. All I need is blood.”
“You are delusional.”
“Blood! More blood! And it will all be mine!” the Baron began to laugh. Hesitantly at first, then heartily, then near maniacally as he raised his head to the ceiling and cackled. “ALL HAIL! ALL HAIL THE PRINCE OF RUIN! ALL HAIL THE DECAY!”
I took a step back as control over my body returned, the Baron’s introduction sequence ending with that bit of laughter. The corpses on the floor began to move, their arms reaching upwards and squeezing around my ankles, slowing down my movements as long as I stayed on the ground.
I jumped up in the air to get rid of the slowness effect, the arms dragging at my boots before letting go with a sucking pop.
Snapping my fingers, I teleported to the Parched Baron, managing to get a few hits off with Sorrow. I then had to dash away as he swiped at me with razor sharp claws.
The Parched Baron was much faster than the Blazing Lady, and was much smaller as well, making him harder to dodge and hit. He wouldn’t be as bad on his own, but the issue was the arena.
Every inch of the boss room was covered in those corpses, waiting to reach up and grab me at any moment. Every time I touched the floor, slowness would be applied, making it much more difficult to time my dodges. Usually, you were supposed to come in here with a team, with a tank and a healer so that the inability to dodge was less devastating. But for the hitless run, I couldn’t afford to slow down and risk tanking a hit. Every bit of speed counted.
Since the corpses only slowed you down when you were touching the floor, the goal was to remain airborne for as long as possible. I made use of the infinite hit and dash cycle to reach this goal, the dash reset from attacking helping me keep myself hovering a bit above the pile of corpses, high enough to remain out of reach of those grasping fingers.
The Baron hopped away from my slashes and leapt up high into the air, before coming crashing down soon after. I just barely managed to roll out of the way of the shockwave that hit the pile of corpses, vibrating down from the Baron all the way to the edge of the arena.
“Attack. Speed.”
I activated Gift of the Wind and Gift of the Sun and teleported again, continuing my onslaught of attacks. He struck back in retaliation, his sharp nails gleaming, a strike which I managed to parry with Sorrow and throw back in his direction. The Baron staggered backwards.
An opening. I touched down on the ground and began a flurry of attacks, Sorrow whipping back and forth in the air. My attack speed was slowed down somewhat by the corpses on the floor, but I still managed to get eight hits off before the Baron recovered, leaping backwards out of reach.
He began prowling the edge of the arena, watching me slowly.
Couldn’t let him prowl for too long.
I snapped my fingers again and appeared right in front of him, my weapon raised above my head in a downwards slash.
The Baron howled and stumbled against the wall, solidly stunlocked.
50%…25…10… and 0. The Baron slumped against my blade, and I took a step back, retreating to the centre of the room.
Time for Phase 2.
The Parched Baron raised his head to the ceiling and howled. A whirling vortex the colour of blood appeared beneath him. It took him by the arms and began to raise him up higher and higher, till he was now situated above my head, above the mountain of corpses, at the highest point of the cavern.
From his perch above the mountain of corpses, the Baron began to weep.
Corrosive tears rolled down his gaunt, withered face in streams and fell down to earth. Impacting the ground, they splattered against the mountain of corpses in a hiss of white steam.
I carefully navigated my way around them, taking care not to touch any one of those red teardrops. Just a single mistake would ruin my hitless run, so I made sure to double my concentration, using all the tools in my arsenal to dodge the teardrops.
Dodge, Short-Range Teleport, Throwing Knives… Anything went. I even summoned all three Candle Flames and cast them to orbit above my head, catching any stray raindrops that made it through my defence. It obstructed my vision a little, but you can’t be too careful when it came to this sort of attack.
All the while, the tears came down like rain, pooling in the cracks and crevices of the mountain of corpses and driving the water level up. I was forced closer and closer to the centre of the mountain, the corrosive tears forming an acidic moat around the island that was once the peak of the mountain of corpses.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
When most of the arena had been submerged in red, the Baron finally stopped crying. He descended from the whirlwind down to the opposite end of the arena, the part that had been covered in blood. Far out, much too far to reach even with Short-Range Teleport, let alone by dashing. From there, he began spitting globs of acid at me.
Normally, this was the part where you either pulled out a ranged weapon, or you just kept dodging till he decided to return to the centre. But I had a better plan. A speedrun strat, one that I’d tested and practiced beforehand while I was running errands in Clochglas.
I took a running leap out over the pool of blood, and cast Candle Flame.
***
Remember when I first got the skill, Candle Flame? Way back during the Crimson Hall? I never really explained what it did, did I?
Candle Flame (5)
MP Cost: 15. Cooldown: Nil
Summons a fire spirit to protect the caster from damage. Max 3.
Seems straightforward. Activate the skill, you get a mini ball of fire that orbits around you. It could take a few hits, spit a couple balls of fire, and overall be a helpful little summon that contributes to both offence and defence. You could also shoot it out of orbit, sending it in one particular direction and letting it stay there as a sort of turret. Yet that isn’t all it could do.
You see, unlike what you would usually expect from a ball of fire, this ball of fire is corporeal. It has a physical form that you can interact with and influence. Probably has to do with hitboxes. After all, you can’t have something take damage for you if there isn’t something to hit in the first place.
Here’s the fun part. Remember how attacking has recoil? And how you can bounce off enemies if you attack downwards? And that attacking resets the dash cooldown even when you’re in midair?
What do you think happens if I attack my own summon?
***
“Candle Flame.”
A ball of fire erupted in my hand. I tossed it at an angle below me, where it hovered in space, flickering demurely. Unleashing Sorrow, I slashed at the Candle Flame, the recoil taking me a few paces in the air, enough for me to dash over to the Parched Baron. The Baron let out a surprised screech as I smacked him with an up slash, his legs scrabbling over the rough cavern walls in an attempt to get away.
I recalled the Candle Flame I’d used to get over here and cast another one, blue green tails shooting after it as it went. Bouncing off that one as well, I managed to catch up to the Baron before he got too far.
“Attack. Speed.”
I wanted to end this quickly. Before I made a mistake and went plummeting down into the corrosive pool of blood below us.
We went back and forth along the wall of the cavern, with me bouncing precariously off of my Candle Flame summons while slashing away at the boss. With the boss stunlocked, I’d fallen into a comfy rhythm, doing a couple of slashes, then one downslash to bounce myself back up, then another couple slashes, and repeat.
Soon, it was over.
I dropped to the ground, the corrosive blood draining away through an invisible sewer system. The Parched Baron plummeted down behind me from where he’d been hanging on to the ceiling, stiff as driftwood.
“Oh no! It can’t be!” from behind me came a familiar gasp. I felt the familiar grips of Story mode wrest the control out of my grasp again, and I turned.
It was Rosa.
Her piercing eyes were wide with shock, her hands covering her mouth. She was trembling like a leaf, her voice shaky even as she uttered that exclamation.
In a spark of nostalgia, I recognised her immediately. This… this was truly Rosa. Not the “real”, real Rosa who flirted constantly, but the sweet Rosa. The kind Rosa, the Rosa I’d known for 17 years.
Rosa’s image flickered.
Oh. It was a hologram. Designed specially for story mode, probably, much like the binds that stopped me from moving my body.
“Rosa” knelt by the limp body of the Parched Baron, her slender fingers tracing his dry skin, searching for a sign of life. Her lip trembled.
“He’s… dead…” she murmured.
“Wasn’t he always dead?” I strode up to her. “He just rose again, like all the other times.”
“No…no, that’s not it!” she raised two shaking fingers to show me. The tips of them were stained an inky black, covered in a tar like substance that ate away at her perfect skin.
“It’s Ruin! He was raised by Ruin!” she gasped, falling backwards.
“Rosa, calm down!”
“It’s the Decay! He’s back! To take revenge on me!”
“The Decay?” I asked, taking hold of her hand and supporting her back. “I saw him back at the Crimson Hall.”
“Oh! Oh no! This is a disaster!” she wailed. “We must sound the alarm!”
“It’s okay. Calm down… Tell me what happened.”
Her panicked gasps slowed down to more relaxed breaths.
“It’s my brother. The Thorn Prince. He was taken by Ruin in an incident years ago,” she began, her fingers tightly gripping mine. “He used to be such a kind child, as gentle as spring showers. But the Ruin. It…changed his personality. Turned his heart black as rot. He committed heresy, stole human children… I banished him, to stop him from harming Briarwood. But now he’s back!”
“Do not worry, I will protect you. Your evil brother will never lay a hand on you.”
“Oh thank you! Thank you!”
And story mode ends.
Achievement: Untouched by the Blood complete
Received skill: Quenched Thirst
Quenched Thirst (B)
Passive
Grants the caster corrosion resistance.
A boon from the doomed Baron of the Mounds. May your thirst for the truth never be quenched.
Rosa faded in a burst of light, disappearing from the room. So did the Parched Baron, his body disintegrating into drops as the “cutscene” ended. I got to my feet, shivering a little from the experience. While it was nostalgic to rewatch that cutscene again, I found it less enchanting than I remembered it being.
Though, now that the boss was done with, I had to think about how to talk to Rue again.
***
When I emerged from the Ruler’s Grave, dawn was breaking, the pink and blue rays of the sun filtering through the crooked leaves of the hawthorn tree and leaving leaf patterned patches of light pooling on the ground.
Rue was sitting outside the dungeon in the spot that I’d first found him, his head in his hands.
“Hey, Rue,” I waved as I clambered out of the grave. He jumped, raising his head to look at me, before relaxing again.
“Oh. Greetings, Luck,” he smiled ruefully. “I apologise for my outcry earlier.”
“No, it’s okay. I should be sorry too, I was a bit too forceful,” I shook my head. I’d decided not to push for answers just yet, not while Rue was unwilling to answer. “We can talk about it when you’re ready.”
“Oh…” Rue looked down at his hands. “Thank you for understanding.”
“You’re welcome.”
Besides, I had other ways of getting answers.