Zanzital reached out for the dungeon again. He didn’t understand why it kept disappearing. The fact that he hadn’t been able to bind it yet was more annoying than surprising; even a Tier One dungeon was far easier to bind at its central node, and this one didn’t feel Tier One despite how young it had to be. The continual disappearances were simply weird.
This time felt different. This time, it was oddly closer. Perhaps the dungeon had expanded? It’d only been a few days since he noticed it in the first place, so it seemed unlikely. It was either a new dungeon or it had just expanded to be close enough to him; either way, it shouldn’t have been ready to add another level in only a few days. On Asihanya, that could take weeks for a Tier One dungeon, and this wasn’t on a nexus. It was still the best idea Zanzital had, but it didn’t explain the disappearances.
He missed the first figure that squeezed into the narrow crack that provided the only access to his hiding place. Only the soft scrape of the second person’s runeclam armor against the rock drew his attention; somehow, the first person was already several feet into the space. He seemed to wait for the second person, but his eyes didn’t leave Zanzital’s.
Zanzital froze for a moment as he tested the aura around him; Tier Nine. That was stronger than he’d thought anyone but the leader of the base would have, and it had to be how they’d found him. He thought it was coming from the second person; the redhead right in front of him didn’t seem to be leaking much aura. He was likely weaker; with the way Imperials did things, he was an assistant or a guard.
Zanzital didn’t have a choice anymore, but this was still easier than he’d really expected his mission to be. If he took out the base commander, he’d be able to find out who he was and what he was doing here; he’d also stop the attacks on Takinat. He’d achieve both of his goals at once.
This was where Zanzital’s best Affinity being Death was a problem; he’d easily handle the attendant, but the Tier Nine would give him far more of a fight than if he had another specialty. He couldn’t attack anyone of similar Tier directly; Death magic just wore away at their spirits. It was great for big battles, terrible against anyone close to his own power level. If only he’d been able to control that nearby dungeon; it could have transported him and he wouldn’t be in this mess!
Zanzital launched a Deathbolt at the redhead in front of him. Reducing the number of enemies, even if they were weak, was useful. Even weak enemies could be a distraction.
The redhead must have been caught by surprise; he didn’t even try to dodge. Zanzital watched as the bolt hit the man’s chestplate and vanished. It didn’t splash off a shield or a protective enchantment and it didn’t slip through the armor the way it should have; even enchanted runeclam armor couldn’t fully stop a Tier Ten Deathbolt. Yet this armor did; it was like he’d thrown nothing at all at the man.
“Well now, that wasn’t nice.” The redhead frowned, but didn’t seem all that upset. “Calm down, let’s talk and see if we can avoid this fight.”
Zanzital took a good look at the redhead’s armor. There were only a few groups who wanted to talk instead of fighting, and several of them were bad news. The styling looked familiar but slightly off; when he combined that with the redhead’s desire to talk and the armor’s ability to dissipate the spell, there was only one real answer.
The best armor went to the Emperor’s Guard; some of them even got wyrmscale. He definitely wasn’t part of the Emperor’s Guard, they wouldn’t want to talk. The second best armor went to the Emperor’s Faces. They could be anywhere and always had a cover as someone who belonged where they were, but they served the Emperor, not whoever they supposedly worked for.
Rumor said that they wore armor that was several Tiers higher than their personal Tier, making them nearly invulnerable; he wasn’t certain what Tier the redhead was, but he had to be lower than Zanzital since he wasn’t trying to impress with his aura. It was the only explanation, especially since the reputation of the Faces said they liked to talk and could get information out of people that they didn’t realize they gave.
He couldn’t afford to talk to an Emperor’s Face. Sure, his duties were similar, but he worked outside the Empire; if a Face knew he’d discovered what they were, his life was forfeit. He had to kill the redhead. He could run from everyone else, but a Face would know Zanzital knew what he was and wouldn’t let him escape with the knowledge.
Zanzital threw a Deathbolt at the redhead’s face, then threw a pair of Homing Deathbolts to either side; they were targeted at the man’s face as well. His armor couldn’t protect what it didn’t cover.
The redhead threw up his arm to block the first Deathbolt. Zanzital wasn’t surprised when it sank into the armor as if it never existed. What did surprise him was that both of the Homing Deathbolts changed course, but not in the correct direction; they angled down and struck the man’s shoulders and dissipated.
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Zanzital didn’t know what to think about that; he’d never even seen an enchantment that could do that to someone else’s Skills. If you could do that, why didn’t you just break the Skill? That would be easier than taking control of it and just as useful as pushing it into armor that could resist it. It would probably be better for the armor, too; the more an enchantment had to resist, the faster it drained and decayed. Death magic was particularly good at that, too.
The Tier Nine behind the Emperor’s Face said something, but Zanzital barely spared him a glance. There were two of them now, but that just meant he’d have another person to get past when he ran. He needed to figure out how to deal with the redhead first.
Preparation was key for a Death mage, since direct Death attack Skills were often ineffective; unfortunately, this was a very unfavorable place to prepare Death magic. The best he had was only a little stronger than his Deathbolt and he couldn’t see that working when the Deathbolt was so easily dispelled. He was going to have to go the other way and make this a long battle.
For a moment, Zanzital considered using another element; his Water Affinity was nearly as high as his Death Affinity. Unfortunately, Water had many of the same issues as Death when used to attack; it worked well for battlefield control but was very poor in direct attack Skills. His best Water-based direct attack Skill was only Tier Eight anyway; any armor that could dissipate a Tier Ten Deathbolt would just laugh at a Tier Eight Waterspray.
No, he needed something that would get around that armor. He didn’t have many options for that, but there was one that stood out, a combined-Affinity Water/Death Skill that was useful in a long battle; perhaps that would work. It should be able to get around the redhead’s armor, since his armor didn’t offer complete coverage; that was the real benefit of the Water portion of the Skill. It was expensive enough that he didn’t really like to use it, but he was out of options.
Zanzital gathered mana into the Skill. It manifested as a ball of water in his hand; the ball grew as he added more mana. He could only afford to use a fraction of his capacity, but that was fine; the Skill wouldn’t even take that much. It did more if he added more mana, but only up to the point where it destabilized and could no longer be thrown.
When it neared the limit, Zanzital tossed the Watery Grave sphere at the redhead. It grew as it traveled and completely engulfed the Face when it got there.
He had to run while the Face was distracted. He made it two steps forward before he had to dodge the first Tier Nine that entered. He moved to block Zanzital again; it was frustrating. The Tier Nine was Tier lower, but he was clearly a physical specialist; a mage like Zanzital would have to disable him to get through him. Zanzital tried dodging to the left, then to the right; each time, the Tier Nine blocked him.
They didn’t seem to be very skilled; none of them even had weapons out. It was like they hadn’t expected a fight; all they seemed to be doing was corralling him in his hiding place. Who wouldn’t fight if they were cornered?
No, that wasn’t quite true. The Tier Nine that wasn’t blocking him had a wand out and had used it on the entrance. Zanzital dodged to the side again so that he could see the way out to try to figure out what he was doing. This time, the Tier Nine physical specialist let him slip by.
The entrance was completely blocked with a thick layer of ice. They’d trapped him in here; he didn’t have a good way to get through either stone or ice quickly. They clearly intended to trap him here; they probably meant to entomb him in their ice. He’d just have to make it their tomb instead of his own.
As he thought that, he heard a hissing noise from behind him. He spun around, unsure of what he’d see, and found that the redhead was outlined in flames in an aura around himself. There was no question: that was definitely a Fire Skill of some sort. Given the scope, it was probably bloodline-related. A Fire skill like that probably burned off the Water residue from Watery Grave, but it wouldn’t have done anything to the Death residue. With luck, that was sinking further into the fiery Face’s body; it would weaken him from the inside.
The Tier Nine mage tried to say something, but it was drowned out by the crackling of the redheaded Face’s fire. Zanzital didn’t pay it much attention; it had to be a demand for surrender, and that was the last thing Zanzital was interested in. Surrender meant death or worse at the hands of a Face.
He only had one choice left, a Skill he never wanted to use. This was definitely the best possible time to use it; it would definitely kill everyone around him, despite whatever the armor could do, and while it would knock him out, the area was walled off. He’d never have a better time.
The fact that it was the Skill that indirectly got him in the situation he was in, serving two masters, was only poetic justice. He’d use it to keep himself safe from the very situation it caused. Well, realistically, the situation that obtaining it caused. He’d made some stupid decisions then, but it was all going to work out. It had to.
If this didn’t work, the worst that would happen was that it would kill him too. Compared to capture by a Face, that was acceptable.
Zanztital poured the remainder of his mana into Lich’s Aura and made sure his aura filled the room but no more; the last thing he wanted was to get the attention of anyone in the hallway outside. They might be able to get through the ice plug.
Darkness spread through the room faster than it traveled through Zanzital’s awareness. The room was fully blackened by the Aura Skill before he passed out. If the others weren’t dead, they would be soon. Especially the Face; the Aura Skill would enhance the damage Watery Grave started.