The entire room was silent. The symphony of the damned had been cast into nonexistence. The walls held silence in its stillness. Faces with mouths that had once moved stood statuesque. Imploring hands implored no more. Yet, the flames of white sat carefully atop open hands. That did not change.
Each face held a grey indicator above their heads. Countless as the faces on the walls. Above them was a single harmless title.
[Damned(F)]
Pain still riddled Melmarc’s mind. It danced and hopped upon his brain, filling him with almost nothing but itself. Only one hand had been truly impaled. Blood dripped from it in terrible rivulets, stained the ground and marked it with his presence.
As for his other limbs, while the pain remained, there were no physical damages.
Faili lay helpless on the ground to the side. He was bloodied, too bloodied. At a point it sounded as if it was whimpering, like a dying thing. There was no surprise there, it was meant to be dying. Still, its eyes focused on Melmarc. It watched, waited.
For what? Melmarc did not know.
In the distance, the others remained the same. Nelson’s paleness was fading, though. The color was returning to his face. Claire, however, had not changed. She still bled. She still didn’t move.
Jed sat helplessly on the ground. He looked ashamed and relieved at the same time. But there was also something in his face. A kind of pain and loss, as if something had been taken from him. Something that had been necessary to be here.
Courage, Melmarc thought, identifying it without knowing. No. His will.
As for Clinton, the leader of the team, he sat with a broken arm, a shattered arm. His other shoulder remained without an arm of its own, but at least it was no longer bleeding. Clinton stared at Claire’s body with pain in his eyes. Guilt.
Melmarc felt like he understood it. He had cost Claire her life and Clinton his arms. All for what? To kill a Demi-god that they didn’t need to kill.
And at what cost?
Naymond’s shoulders rose and fell very slowly. He remained on his knees, however. Blood still dripped from his mouth.
With no Healer, there was nothing that could be done for them.
Gritting his teeth in annoyance at how easily he was accepting Claire’s death, like a casualty of war, Melmarc turned his gaze away from them. As he panned it, he took note of Faili’s continued whimpering. The Lycanthrope’s breaths were coming slower now. Its torso wasn’t heaving so heavily anymore.
Melmarc's eyes settled momentarily on Clinton’s arm, perfectly sliced off by a massive sword. It rested in the corner. A trail of blood mapped out how it had flown through the air, leaving blood scattered about, before hitting the ground and sliding to a stop where it currently was.
Moving past it, Melmarc’s eyes settled on Jude.
The Delver rested against the wall. He sat down, eyes open. His entire chest was a bloodied mess. His vest was soaked in blood so deep that the red was obvious. It was as though he’d taken his vest, dipped it in blood, then put it back on.
His eyes were almost empty, hollow. But they saw. They moved. Twitching ever so slightly, they looked as if they were trying to search for something. Melmarc wasn’t so sure what it was and found that he couldn’t care.
So, he didn’t try to care.
He had wasted too much time on the unimportant. Tasks awaited him. Something existed that had to be done.
With a step to begin his journey, he dragged himself through his pain and approached Caldath’s fallen form. The task of walking brought him so much pain. It was as if his mind tried to comprehend too many things at the same time.
Caldath watched him approach, lying on the ground. Lazy eyes stared from broken eye sockets.
Melmarc got to the beast. He stood far enough away that the creature’s arms would not reach him if it tried.
“Oh, child of no honor.” Caldath’s voice was a weak whisper. Golden blood streamed from its lips. “Have you come to end me, or have you come to gloat? Have you come to revel in your victory?”
Melmarc had no answer to give.
Caldath gave out a weak sigh. “Alas, it matters not. Every child faces its demise in the end. Even I. Son to a broken father. Father to a nonexistent son. Husband to a betrayed wife. I have spent my years searching for a way to liberate my people from the chains of existence. I have failed.”
Melmarc stood there. The creature had judged itself. Husband to a betrayed wife, it had called itself. What had it done to its wife?
“In the end...” Caldath’s breathing was slow. “In the end I was bested, not by a warrior or a god, not by a being of existence, but by a boy. A child.” Its eyes steadied, focused. They trained themselves on Melmarc. “I do not know if that says a lot about me, child, or if it says a lot about you. Can you dare to hazard a guess?”
Melmarc could not. But if he were to hazard a guess, he would say that it said more about Faili.
Without the Lycanthrope, none of them would’ve survived the room. None of them would’ve walked out of this fight alive.
“No honor,” Caldath muttered. “Even now, you would not grant me the honor of a final conversation. Even now, you would not grant me the respect I am due.”
Melmarc’s mind suddenly went to that one room he’d walked past with Saxi and Naymond and the others not so long ago. The corpses. The death.
“Did you grant the damned honor?”
Caldath’s gaze tightened. “The damned are damned because they have given up their honor.”
“And who demanded it of them?”
“I did not not.” The creature’s gaze went to the walls and came back. “They knew what was necessary and suggested it. It was the price of freedom.”
Melmarc looked at the walls. They did not look free.
There was no point to this conversation, he realized. It would not help him in any way. It would neither unburden him nor grant him useful information.
“Remember that you were the aggressor here, child,” Caldath said suddenly. “Remember that you came into my domain when you did not have to. You killed my people when you did not have to. You are the intruder. I am merely a victim of your presence. I am the offended, the aggrieved.”
It was true, but Melmarc already knew that. He also knew what would’ve happened if what had been done here hadn’t been done here. A Chaos Run was good for nobody back home.
So, they were the bad guys brought here to cause havoc.
But why is the Chaos Run always different from the portal? The question came to him unbidden. Why was the consequence of not defeating the things in the portal invasion from a different group of things?
Something wasn’t right.
Caldath coughed up golden blood and Melmarc’s eyes moved to his indicator. The health bar remained absent, gone as it had always been since that last attack.
Caldath looked down at its own blood and sighed.
“I was a man once.” Its eyes grew forlorn, half in this room, half elsewhere, remembering. “It had been glorious. Beautiful. It had been good to be mortal. To know that I could grow and die. And then I had to do what I had to, emboldened by the flames of my own ambition, in search of my own greed.”
“And did you achieve what you wanted to?” Melmarc asked before he could stop himself.
Caldath nodded once. It was a simple action. “Yes.”
“And what did it cost you?”
Caldath’s eyes moved once more, took in the walls around them. The damned. It settled on the sword stabbed into the ground at a distance.
Sadness settled in its eyes. “Everything.”
Melmarc saw one similarity between him and Caldath in this moment. Caldath was beginning to seem like a possible future. Emboldened by the flames of its own ambition it had gone to any extent to become powerful.
Melmarc, too, wanted power. He wanted to be strong enough to end conflict by simply being present.
And what are you willing to sacrifice to get there?
Once upon a time, the answer would’ve been very close to anything. There were things he would never have done. But just how sure was he? The moment you believed that one thing was worth sacrificing, didn’t that mean that it became a slippery slope from there?
You would sacrifice one thing, then another. Slowly, ever so slowly, you would sacrifice more. For greater power you would have to sacrifice something greater. And as long as the exchange felt equal, at some point in time, you would sacrifice something too great.
As Caldath had.
That’s not who I am, he thought with firm determination.
He would not gain what he wanted at the cost of everything. He refused to believe so. Still, he looked at Caldath and wondered.
“You do not wish to die by a mockery of divinity,” he said. It was not a question.
Caldath nodded. “In your victory, end me with some modicum of honor, One without honor.”
Melmarc’s eyes moved to the spear lying on the ground. He remembered how Jude had stabbed Caldath in the eye with it and nothing had happened.
He returned his attention to Caldath. “I do not have another way to end you but the abilities that I have.”
Caldath’s eyes moved to the spear. “One who lives by a weapon of their choice should be ready to die by that weapon. Take my life with my spear.”
“Someone has already tried that and failed,” Melmarc pointed out.
“Because they were not worthy.”
That caught Melmarc’s attention. “They were not worthy?”
“He is Sentient,” Caldath said. “He cannot bring an end to me even if the entire existence depended on it. I am of Broken Divinity. I am not allowed to die by the hands of just anyone.”
Melmarc’s eyes narrowed. “What of the others?”
Caldath snorted in derision, then coughed up blood. “The mutt might have stood a chance… perhaps. But not the others.”
They were doomed to die the moment they entered this room.
“But I can bring end to you?” Melmarc asked.
Caldath nodded slowly.
“Why?” Melmarc checked the bar above Caldath's head again and saw nothing. Maybe he should stop talking and just kill the thing. But he was curious. He wanted to know.
“Because you are no longer Sentient,” Caldath answered. “You are a being capable of walking the path I walked and achieving something greater than I. You are Sapient. One with enough command of the world to establish a domain anywhere. At least some day.”
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Melmarc looked to the side, checked the distance between him and everyone else. Then he lowered his voice as he asked another question. An important question.
“Were you an [August Intruder]?”
“Promise to end me now and I will give you the answer,” Caldath said. “Run me through with my spear and you shall have it.”
Melmarc hesitated. Could he trust the creature?
“Lie to me,” he said.
Caldath shook its head. “One with honor does not lie.”
“If you wish to choose the way I will end you, then lie to me,” Melmarc insisted.
Caldath frowned, then it let out a resigned sigh. “Those that stand at the peak of existence are completely with honor.”
Dissonant.
Melmarc had not been expecting that. Not the dissonance but the information.
“If I stab you with your spear, will you… die?” he asked.
“Yes.”
With the answer in his mind, Melmarc moved. He walked up to the still massive spear and picked it up. It was heavy, so much so that he had to use both hands. Jude’s eyes settled on him as he did so.
The Delver was dying but was not yet dead. Melmarc could not bring himself to feel pity for the man. Not after all that he had done.
Hefting the spear on his shoulder, he walked over to Caldath’s body. Crimson smoke rose from the weapon and gathered to him. But they did not touch him. They simply hovered about, drawn but unsure.
Melmarc came to a stop and found his way on top of Caldath. He stood over the creature and aimed the point of its spear to its heart. The weapon was heavy.
“Strike true, One without honor,” Caldath said, staring up at him. “Strike true.”
Melmarc did.
In one action, Caldath let out a terrible grunt as its spear ran it through the heart. Despite its pain, Caldath looked pleased.
Some level of empathy had led Melmarc to this action. Or perhaps Caldath had simply tricked him into it. Considering everything that had happened to this world, whatever it was, he doubted Caldath deserved any respect in death.
But what did he know? In the back of his mind, there was a voice that told him that he didn’t know enough to judge. He didn’t know enough to pass punishment.
It was not his place.
What was his place, however, was to ask his question and gain his answer.
“You didn’t answer,” he said. “Were you an [August Intruder]?”
Caldath groaned in its pain, its life coming to an end. One part of its face was dying into decay. “That is only one of many Sapients, One without honor,” it said. “I was something else. I was an Oath.”
“What Oath?” Melmarc’s voice trembled slightly as Caldath finally turned to dust.
The dust was golden as the creature’s blood and was blown into the wind. The spear vanished after. However, Melmarc was still given his answer.
It echoed in the emptiness of a demi-god’s demise.
“I was Madness.”
His interface came alive a moment after.
[You have Slain Caldath, Son of Valoth(Child of the Void)(A)]
[You have slain a Demi-god]
…
[You have gained EP 7890]
[Total EP 8146]
Melmarc stared at the numbers. The absence of Caldath’s form beneath him made him stumble into a short fall. As he did, eyes taken from the interface, he felt his body balance itself. He landed on his feet. Pain flared in his thigh and his side as he fell back and landed on his ass.
A new notification popped up.
[You have slain a Demi-god]
[You have gained the title Demi-god Slayer]
[Effect: +21% damage increase when facing a Demi-god.]
[Effect: +21% damage resistance when facing a Demi-god]
…
[Designation August Intruder detected]
[Title evolution detected.]
[Title Demi-god Slayer is now Slayer]
…
[You have gained the title Slayer]
[Effect: +21% damage increase when facing any Sapient Being.]
[Effect: +21% damage resistance when facing any Sapient Being.]
[Effect: +15% damage increase when facing any Sentient Being.]
[Effect: +15% damage increase when facing any Sentient Being.]
All Melmarc could do was stare. Those were a lot of notifications. And what exactly is a Sapient Being or Sentient Being?
There had to be more to it than just their basic definition.
[Caldath, Son of Valoth(Child of the Void) has fallen]
…
[To the victor goes the spoils]
[Congratulations, August Intruder! You have received Sword of Valot]
Melmarc heard the sword stabbed into the ground vanish. It appeared on the ground next to him a moment after.
[Caldath, Son of Valoth(Child of the Void) has fallen]
…
[To the victor goes the spoils]
[Congratulations, August Intruder! You have received Spear of Caldath]
The spear that had disappeared with Caldath’s death appeared next to Melmarc as well in all its crimson glory.
Each weapon flanked him on both sides. On his left was the sword, wider and taller than him, lying on the ground. On his right the spear lay on the ground, as long as him if he was thrice placed atop himself.
How am I supposed to use this? he thought, looking at them.
[Caldath, Son of Valoth(Child of the Void) has fallen]
…
[To the victor goes the spoils]
[Congratulations, August Intruder! You have received Armor of Valot]
A metal chest landed in front of him. It was adorned in an embroidery of weaves like branches of a grotesque tree. It was a deep metal color.
A groan pulled Melmarc from his thoughts. He turned, looked in tis direction and found Faili still alive. While his breathing was slow, growing slower by the moment, he stared at Melmarc with a touch of recognition in its eyes.
<> He stared at Melmarc with eyes that let him know that he didn’t expect him to understand his words. <> His eyes suddenly focused elsewhere, stared at the air in front of him, and Melmarc thought he saw him frown. <
The Lycanthrope slowly changed form after that. First his blood turned blue and slowly began evaporating in the form of grains of sand. Then his fur turned the same color. Then his entire body.
In moments, Faili was gone. Melmarc’s interface popped up.
[Summoning of Failikdajafut Nilk’taifrigth Hkdott (Slasher)(A) has been canceled]
Faili was gone. No sign of his existence having ever been was left. Finally, Melmarc was left alone with those he had come in with, those from earth.
[Exit Portal detected.]
An indicator appeared and Melmarc looked to the side. It wasn’t far from him. His eyes settled on the entrance to the room and the orange barrier was gone.
Standing there was his father. Axe, Saxi and Lisa stood behind him. From Melmarc’s perspective it looked as if his father was standing between them and whatever would come out of the room.
The tension eased out of all four of them when their eyes settled on Melmarc. Axe’s eyes that had been hardened, ready for anything, eased into something soft, gentle.
Then his eyes focused on the hobble of Delvers, on Clinton’s state and Claire’s body. It moved from them to Melmarc, then back to them. It took Melmarc only a moment to realize that Axe wasn’t feeling bad for the Delvers, it was for Melmarc. He probably wondered how Melmarc would handle the weight of the loss.
Melmarc's father walked in, eyes scarcely on the walls around them. Nothing had changed with the death of Caldath. The faces remained there, the white flames remained there. The damned remained unliberated, without free—
[Personal Quest Ruins of Caldath Completed]
…
[Personal Quest: Ruins of Caldath.]
You have walked upon the ruins of Caldath, ancient city of debauchery and hate. Its inhabitants have sold their soul to Caldath and have lost it eternally. Only their servants, too unimportant to be granted such misfortune, remain. Conclude the ruination of Caldath and free all from their eternal damnation.
[Objective completed: Defeat Demi-god Caldath.]
[Reward: +5% Mastery.]
…
[Dear Melmarc Jay Lockwood, would you like to use reward 5% Mastery?]
[Y/N]
As Melmarc considered it, Lisa made her way among the Delvers. Saxi walked up to Jude and squatted next to him.
“He's dead,” he confirmed, voice without inflection.
Axe nodded.
Lisa placed a hand over Claire’s face and closed her eyes. She looked up to meet Nelson’s eyes. They were red, rheumy. The Delver had wept.
“I’m sorry for the loss,” she told him, apologetic. “It is a difficult thing to have to live with.”
He looked down at her voice, pained. “We didn’t even stand a chance.”
“Sometimes we do not,” she said, understanding. She looked back at Melmarc’s father. “Sometimes our duty is simply to be present, to bear witness.”
Nelson shook his head, crestfallen. “This is no way to live. To be beaten down by nothing but a song. To be rendered useless.”
Lisa paused, hesitated. She considered her next words. Yet, even as she spoke them, it was clear that she wasn’t completely sure of her words.
“I could… take the pain away,” she said, slowly. “That’s if it is something that you want.”
Nelson gazed into her eyes, obviously seeking out the truth of her words. S-rank Gifted were powerful, but this was something truly great.
In the end, he shook his head.
“No,” he said. “I have to remember this. I must.”
Lisa nodded carefully before turning her attention to the next person. She moved from Claire’s body and Nelson to squat beside Clinton. The man still looked lost, eyes empty.
“Clinton?” Lisa said, voice kind. “Can you hear me?”
If he could, Clinton didn’t say a word. If he could hear her, he gave no signs of it.
“If you can hear me,” she said. “Know that I am coming in.”
She placed a gentle palm against his face. There was something kind about it, something solemn, too. They stayed like that for a moment. In that moment, tears streamed from Clinton’s eyes.
Then his face crumpled, and he started crying. Lisa took her hand from his face.
“I cannot say if it was the right choice or not,” she told him. “But take comfort in knowing that it was a choice you made. If anything, making a choice at all is right. Know this.”
Then she moved on to Jed.
Saxi walked over to Melmarc, ignoring everyone else. Axe stood next to Melmarc’s father, quiet. Both men were a striking figure, Melmarc’s father standing larger than a large Axe. Outside the room, a portal opened, a deep blue with swirls.
Lisa squatted in front of Naymond. “I think the [Sage] is—”
“I’m good,” Naymond interrupted her, speaking all of a sudden.
It was enough to startle her. She flinched back for a moment. “How the hell? Your mind was empty.”
Naymond cracked his neck from side to side. There was still blood from his mouth and dripping down his nostrils. He wiped it off with a with the back of his forearm, staining his tattered sleeves, and got up.
Lisa got up with him.
Naymond staggered once but regained his composure, caught himself before he fell.
He shook his head once. “That kickback’s a bitch. Never tried it on a Demi-god before.”
“Tried what before?”
“It’s a bitch on an Oath,” Naymond went on, placing a hand against his head and ignoring Lisa as he walked over to Melmarc. “But that one was a doozy.”
Next to Melmarc, Saxi looked down at the ground.
“Spoils of war,” he said. “Looks like quite a haul.”
Melmarc didn’t need to look down. Two weapons and an armor. On your first Delve, even if its unofficial.
Now that he thought about it, he wondered if every time he went into a portal from now on it would be this trying. Will I have to fight a Demi-god all the time?
“Pick it up,” Melmarc’s father said. “It’s time to leave. We’ve spent a lot of time here.”
Melmarc wasn’t sure what he was talking about but listened. He bent down, reached for the sword and froze. How am I supposed to carry all this?
“Just touch it and you should be fine,” Naymond said casually. At the look Melmarc gave him, he waved a dismissive hand. “I’ll be fine… for now.”
The way he said the last part let Melmarc know that he wasn’t talking about whatever had just happened to him. He most likely meant the part about Melmarc becoming his new commanding officer.
Melmarc bent and picked up the sword first. The moment his skin came in contact with the hilt of the sword, the weapon twitched out of existence and reappeared in his hand.
Its hilt settled firmly in his hold and it had somehow reduced itself to a size befitting of him. It was still a large sword though, its width as wide as three palms and its curved blade almost six feet long. It was in a scabbard, black as scorched metal with cracks of molten running along its length.
Melmarc admired it. If anything, it was a daunting weapon.
He looked from side to side only to have Melmarc hold his hand out. “I’ll hold that for you.”
“You probably shouldn’t,” Melmarc’s father said, but Melmarc had already given Saxi.
The weapon dropped, almost pulling Saxi down with it.
“Axe,” Melmarc’s father said.
“Got it, Boss.” Axe was already moving.
Saxi shook out his hand in pain. “Shit weighs a ton.”
“You don’t say,” Naymond chuckled. “Don’t go picking things that don’t belong to you.”
Axe picked the weapon up easily and hefted it over his shoulder as Melmarc bent and picked up the spear. Like the sword, it blinked out of existence, returning almost immediately to his hand. It fit his size easily, a regular spear for someone as large as he was. The crimson aura, however, was gone.
Melmarc turned. “What do we do with the box?”
“Let the big guy handle it,” Saxi said, turning to walk away.
Axe picked up the box and hefted it over his second shoulder. Lisa took the time to grab Clinton’s severed arm.
“I know a few Healers,” Lisa said when Clinton gave her a sad look. “If there is any spark of life left in it, they can reattach it. But I must warn you that I don’t think you’ll be able to use it like you once did.”
Clinton nodded. Anything was something at this point.
Nelson kept Claire’s body in his embrace, so Saxi thumbed to the side of the room. “What about him?”
Melmarc didn’t have to look to know Jude was the one being indicated.
His jaw tightened just thinking about everything the Delver had done. Attacking him before they’d made their way to the castle. Cowering in the corner during their fight.
I’ll be rewarded, Melmarc remembered hearing him say. With the thought came the realization that Jude had known what would happen with Caldath’s death. Melmarc didn’t know how, but he’d been sure of it.
The man had allowed everyone risk their lives only to try and claim the glory.
Melmarc opened his mouth to speak but his father beat him to it.
“Bring him,” he said, eyes meeting Melmarc’s.
“Alright, Boss.” Saxi jogged over to the corpse and lifted it over his shoulder unceremoniously.
The walk towards the exit portal was silent. Melmarc walked, staring at the black indicator above the portal. But that wasn’t all that there was to it. Right now, he could feel the portal. The indicator was just an added assistance. It was an odd feeling.
Also, he couldn’t help but feel like his dad had answered Saxi’s question about Jude’s body to prevent him from making that decision.
Melmarc tried not to think too much about it. If he was being honest, he was happy for it. He wasn’t sure he’d wanted to make that decision.
When they got to the portal, his father made him go first. With the spear in his hand, Melmarc took a deep breath and placed his hand against the portal. He breathed a sigh of relief when his hand dipped into it.
Then he crossed the portal.
The moment he was on the other side, he was drowned in blue so deep it was like an inky color. Still, he could see the things around him.
As the others walked in behind him, Melmarc’s eyes settled on the most obvious thing in the portal.
Veebee hovered in the air, staring down at him and the others. Its face was empty, save two dots that served as eyeballs. Regardless, Melmarc couldn’t help but feel like the thing was excited.
It pointed its stub of a hand at Saxi, specifically Jude’s corpse.
It made only one request.
“I’m hungry, can I have him?”