Dryden's Poets were standing brazenly close to the Citadel of Horrors, masked by the legendary illusions of the demonic races. One Sunlet, and five horrors from that deep, cursed cavern layer. The demons, who had murdered Dryden's entire party and replaced them as doppelgangers, were congratulating one another on their very impressive and effective illusions.
Dyden, who had willfully initiated the chain of events that led to his entire party being replaced by demon dopplegangers, took in a deep breath, his red crystal body expanding and contracting.
“Boys, I think we're going to have an easy time of it,” he said, clapping his hands together in-front of him hard, the sound like two crystal clattering together.
“A Citadel contains many things,” one of the demons said, and it was hard to tell which one spoke.
“A Citadel is dangerous,” another said, whispering.
“A Citadel is nothing without its ruler.”
“We're avoiding the Citadel Ruler,” Dryden said, rubbing his chin and picturing the treasure, it was all that really mattered, “we go in with illusions and a bag full of silver keys, steal everything worth stealing, and blame the fallout on that little moron Anna,” he said, then paused and turned to look at the lead demon, “she's in here, right?”
“Assuredly,” the demon said, his form obscured and only visible as a haze of heat with two horizontal, glowing, angry-looking eyes of solid red light.
“And the strike force?” Dryden asked, not for the first time.
“Chasing their shadows,” the same demon said, “chasing illusions of their imagination.”
“Same as the gremlin abomination,” another demon chuckled, “chasing light and sound.”
“Destined to meet in the middle,” still another demon said.
“Destined to die under false light, false senses, false reality,” the lead demon said, and they were all silent.
“Good,” Dryden said, “when they're all dead, that will open up some room at the top. Our deal still stands?”
“Give us Solas, give us the Capital Crystal,” the lead demon said, “and you will rule in the Underworld.” Dryden smirked at that, the demons were legendary for their generosity towards those who entered their kingdom with gifts of value.
“If we see the Citadel Lord, we run,” Dryden said, fixing each set of illusory eyes with a hard gaze, “we are not prepared to deal with one of those.”
“Forgive a humble [Illusionist],” the lead demon said, lying about his true class, “but I believe we will be more than a match for any monster.”
“No. A Citadel Lord can do what Dungeons cannot; he can reshape his dungeon at will and in combat. Fighting one of those things is a nightmare, they can summon traps, remove the floor, conjure up new monsters; as long as the Citadel Core has the mana for it, they can reshape the area around them and simply crush an entire party between walls. [Citadel Shaping], it's what separates them from regular boss monsters, and it's what makes assaulting a Citadel such a nightmare. No,” he continued, clearly ready to drop the conversation, “as long as we don't mess with the core, we'll likely be allowed to raid without interference from anything truly dangerous. Right now, experience is more important than treasure to the Citadel, and I intend to take full advantage of it.”
“And the consequences?” the lead demon asked, his voice light with glee. He already knew the answer, he just delighted in seeing a being walk along the Dark Path.
“We pin it on Anna and her group of morons,” Dryden said, “and if they're still alive in there, we rip them to fucking pieces.”
“Lullaby From The Dark,” the lead demon said, quoting one of their morally inverted holy books, “lull us down deep to where the illusion of the bottom lies, and usher us down, down, down forever, till light is but a memory, and the fall is all. Amen,” he said, and the other demons chorused with an 'Amen'.
“Amen,” Dryden said, kissing a well concealed pendant, which showed his new allegiance to the demonic religion, “and may we find God weeping at the bottom of all things.”
Chapter 40
The world seemed to move in slow motion, Ben's mind entering a state of near-death hyper awareness. Thank you human glandular system for your endless and varied abilities to keep us alive.
The entire hallway around him was, in extremely slow motion, starting to collapse. 'Collapse' was actually a really weak word for what was happening. The entire hallway around him was beginning to snap shut like the jaws of an enormous crocodile or alligator, complete with recently formed spikes.
Ben saw, written on the Citadel Fly's face, an expression of pure gloating, and the young man realized that their entire fight had merely been a prelude, a cat toying with a mouse before going in for the kill.
The world was still moving in slow-motion, and Ben realized it wasn't just him who was about to die, but Short Bus and Vivi as well. Red and Ghost Ears were a bit further down the hallway, along with Anna and her group, but Ben had no doubt their deaths were only seconds away as well.
'If I ran,' some part of him whispered, not his class, something older and present in all humans, 'I would survive, and they would all die. I could get out of here with my life and start over. I don't have to die.'
'If I run,' some other part of him said, not a whisper, but still quieter, 'everyone I love in this world will die.'
Ben chose.
His Leap-rechaun legs flexed, suddenly filled with incredible energy. The Citadel Fly, still in slow motion, got a funny look on his totally alien face. Ben jumped, surging forward without regard for physics, or inertia, or his own life; moving at a crazy speed directly towards the Citadel Fly. Along the way his increasingly taxed mind, still holding back time, began collecting every sharp and pointy implement he passed over, spending mana like he couldn't run out; because of his diminishing horde of Mana Gems, he actually couldn't.
The world started to speed up the closer Ben got to the Citadel Fly, who was leaning on his side with a hand extended out, and increasingly realizing that he wasn't actually in a good position to fight off an attack.
Ben's face was set in that kind of grim determination one often sees on a human who's decided he was going to die, right now, and that he was taking you with him. The Citadel Fly realized that he might have made a mistake not standing up and getting his guard secure before he used [Citadel Shaping], and noted that he'd do better next time.
Ben was determined to make sure there wasn't a next time. As he flew, the sturdiest spear he'd looted from the brick-a-brack on the ground was equipped to his hand, and Ben willed himself to accelerate forward even faster.
It all happened in an instant. To anyone watching, one moment Ben was standing perfectly still, and the next he was on top of the Citadel Fly, a broken spear through the fiend's chest, covered in glowing green ichor. The fight wasn't over.
Ben, possessed by his class, poured his royal authority through the spear, and the Citadel Fly burst into golden fire. The fight wasn't over. The [Tyrant] hissed and spat acid from his mouth, which splattered on Ben's face and did no damage, because the acid wasn't magical in any way, it was just acid. In response, Ben began skewering the Citadel Fly with his accumulated weaponry from all angles, save the angles that would cause Ben to get skewered as well.
The fight wasn't over. The Citadel Fly screamed, and the entire hallway shuddered around them, starting to collapse inward. The Citadel Fly had that classic look on his face which is so often featured on a villain, the 'I might be going down, but I'm not going down alone' expression.
In response, as fast as he could, Ben opened a Utility Pocket on his palm, and Frankie selected the thickest and most durable piece of sharp metal in his inventory, anticipating Ben's needs. The [Prince] set it to move back and forth at an extremely rapid speed, with as much force as he could spare. Then, Ben struck the Citadel Fly directly in the head with his improvised palm weapon, and felt his arm jitter and shake from the sudden impact.
The [Tyrant's] body, which had been so full of life, suddenly sagged, limp. Ben's improvised power tool weapon still ran, flinging green blood and brain matter everywhere. He shut it off, and noted for only a brief half-second, how absolutely trashed the previously pristine piece of metal was. Ben didn't miss a beat, he stole the body of the Citadel Fly, jumped to his feet, and called the retreat.
The rest of the Citadel Lord's elite guard were on their knees, clutching at their various kinds of heads as though in agony.
“Kill them!” Red shouted, and her order was enthusiastically obeyed. Ben added three more corpses to his collection, and started to yell orders.
“The core room, now! Now! NOW!” Ben yelled, and his group got into formation. Red's eyes separated and rushed forward, scouting the way as the group surged forward, bolstered by new energy and higher, yet unclaimed, levels.
Elsewhere in the Citadel, the Pocket of Sanctuary received a glut of excess mana, the entire area suddenly having more magic freely available in the air. It screamed again, expelling spent magic like a train whistle, and began bypassing monsters left and right, all of which were temporarily incapacitated.
Ben's party ran, bypassing an entire hallway full of screaming, pain-blind monsters, likely positioned to keep their group from escaping.
“Ben!” Vivi said, “Ben, Ben!”
“Quiet!” Ben shouted, and Vivi didn't listen.
“Ben, you killed a Citadel Class Monster!”
“Quiet! It's not over till we get the core right?” he yelled again, and Anna vigorously nodded.
“We've got to be quick about it!” she yelled back, “it's likely already regenerating!”
“Fuck!” the expletive was explosive from Ben's lips, and he looked at the group, “I'm splitting the party! Catch up with me as fast as you can!”
Before anyone could say anything, Ben began to [Kenetically Leap] ahead of the party, a form of movement far superior to flight, at least indoors. He picked a target wall and launched himself towards it, then repeated the process without missing a beat. Treasure chests were spawning all around him, exotic treasure chests with strange and fanciful designs on it.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Distractions, bribes, anything to keep him from doing what needed to be done. Ben recognized it and dismissed it, keeping his eyes on the real prize. Faster than he could have believed, he was in front of the Core Room. It blazed with ruby light, the doors wide open, the core burning with power, with pure power.
In front of it, forming out of burning red light, was the Citadel Fly, half regenerated, reborn. Ben wasted no time staring at the strange sight, except to have seen it and understood it. If he'd stayed with the group, they would have gotten here too late.
“Fucking unreal,” Ben said, marveling at the unfair resilience of the Citadel, “not even ten minutes till you respawn.”
Ben walked forward, and only hesitated to figure out where to touch the Citadel Core, and then slapped it. Everything froze, the fire, the light, the regenerating Citadel Fly.
[You have conquered the Citadel of Horrors]
[Would you like to claim the core, or assume control as the new Citadel Fly?]
“Ugh, fuck no,” Ben said, getting the heebie-jeebies from just imagining even for a moment being a giant humanoid fly thing, “that's some Cronenberg shit, no thank you.”
[You have claimed a Red Citadel Core.]
Without ceremony, the red sphere of light stopped glowing, and fell to the ground, landing with a clink and rolling towards Ben's feet.
Moments later, the Pocket of Sanctuary barged into the room like an enormous, really really weird pet, and grabbed both the core, and the still brightly glowing body of the Citadel Fly. Ben wanted to protest, but he'd been going to give the core to the Pocket of Sanctuary anyways. Ben hopped into the mobile fortress, and Frankie appeared in front of him.
“Buddy,” he said, “let's go pick up the rest of the party and mop up.” Ben consulted the timer on the Trick Dungeon Core, and noted the enormous red, ruby veins running through it. Fifteen minutes.
“Plenty of time,” Ben said, and the Pocket of Sanctuary scuttled down the hallway, moments later grabbing a screaming, startled party of adventurers and bringing them to safety.
–
“You're sure the chests are gone?” Ben asked for the seventh time, and Anna was ready to scream at him.
“Yes! How many times do I have to say it, yes! The chests were bait to distract you. They were supported by the core, and when it was deactivated, they vanished.”
“You're sure they're gone though?” Ben asked, watching through the entrance of the Pocket of Sanctuary as it greedily tore through the ranks of the thousands of remaining monsters. The insects of the Citadel of Horrors walked about listlessly and without purpose, barely putting up a fight, even to preserve their own lives.
Anna didn't respond.
Ben glanced once again at Vivi, who was gleefully staring at a sheet of golden paper with a compass legend in the corner. He felt his heart skip a beat, and intentionally looked away from it. Ben glanced over, and Vivi, holding the [Map of Wish] via telekinesis, began laughing his squeaky toy laugh.
“Thirty seconds remain, Prince Ben,” Ghost Ears said, flying over to Ben and, in a rare gesture, landed on the ground next to him. Ben looked over and down at the True-Elf Fairy.
“What's our total at? What do we have, right now, after. . .” Ben trailed off, because he was obviously talking about the map.
“A little over fifty-five thousand points,” Ghost Ears said, keeping a straight face.
“Oh,” Ben said, also keeping a straight face, then added, “That's a lot.” Ghost Ears just nodded. Vivi started screaming and dancing with Red, who didn't understand what was going on at all, but was dancing and whooping all the same. Short Bus ran over to Red and picked her up, putting her on his shoulders and running her around. She actually screamed in surprise from it, which just, I mean, Ben had to crack a smile from that. Frankie appeared, portaling himself into the scene, and started riding around on Vivi, who was zooming around the room.
Then Frankie stole the Map of Wish, and Vivi started screaming at him and chasing him around. He'd almost catch the Utility Pocket Elemental, and then Frankie would vanish and appear somewhere else, holding the map in a taunting and provocative way.
Anna's party was watching the scene with. . . I don't even know, and they also didn't know what they were feeling. They were just watching, feeling an emotion they'd never felt before, and it left them both confused and intrigued. It was painful in a new kind of way, the pain coming from feeling good, rather than bad.
“Prince Ben?” Ghost Ears asked, and Ben indicated non-verbally he was listening, “I was wondering if you'd given any thought to dividing the, ah, remaining spoils among the group? Anna and her team were asking if they were entitled to a share.” Ben smirked.
“Tell them they can have a share, or Anna's phone.”
“Very good your majesty,” Ghost Ears said, but didn't immediately fly off.
The Pocket of Sanctuary suddenly, and without much preamble, stopped moving. Its glowing purple mechanical legs leveled the entrance, and then lowered to the ground, before vanishing. The purple tentacles were no longer grabbing nearby monsters, of which there were only a few left.
A timer appeared over the Trick Dungeon Core, one hour, and Ben knew without being told that it was a timer for how long they had to spend their points.
“Cut the final amount into six pieces,” Ben said, standing still, “and I want each of you to purchase whatever you want, Frankie included. I'll spend my share when you all are done.”
“Extremely generous your majesty,” Ghost Ears said, then flew off to the group with a rare expression of glee on his face. Ben smiled when he thought nobody was looking at him.
“Fucking nailed it,” he said, referencing. . . pretty much everything that had happened since things started getting crazy because of the Gremlins. Ben's smile slipped as he remembered the death sentence hanging over his, and all his friends heads. “The Quest,” Ben said, capitalizing it in speech, “fuck, fuck fuck,” Ben said slowly, savoring each expletive, “what the fuck am I going to do about this fucking Quest?”
Short Bus was by the Dungeon Crystal with an absolutely mystified expression on his face. Vivi and Ghost Ears were both, metaphorically, in his ears, explaining the sorts of things he ought to buy with his share. Ben realized Short Bus had never bought anything before, and probably didn't have very many desires aside from good food. In the end, he swatted both Vivi and Ghost Ears away, somewhat literally, and purchased a glowing golden rectangle that resembled an extremely high end playing card.
Written on it was the word [Omnivore], and it vanished a moment later. Short Bus declared he was going to eat 'All the food, all of it,' and then marched away from the Dungeon Crystal, apparently having gotten everything he wanted out of this entire experience. [Omnivore] had only cost five thousand points, and he donated the rest to Ben, mostly as a way to get Vivi off his back. The Aeon Slug had immediately started pestering Short Bus about 'what he was going to do with the difference' and that he should 'give them to me, because I know what I'm doing,' things like that.
Vivi was next, and he was lightening fast with his purchases. Several extremely suspicious books appeared in front of him, and were swiftly collected up into the Aeon Slug's inventory. Then, Vivi purchased a golden rectangle that looked like a credit card, with the letters VIP on it. Anna looked at the card with both awe and naked jealousy, then reassured herself by looking at the Smartest Phone, which was back in her possession. Ben had no idea what was so valuable about a fucking cellphone, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know.
Vivi then started making a bunch of very small, but sensible purchases in the forms of Silver Keys, mana potions, and various other adventuring gear that would reduce his point total to exactly zero. When he was done the Aeon Slug practically floated away from the Dungeon Crystal, a smug expression on his face.
Red was next, and she stared blankly at the Dungeon Crystal for a solid thirty seconds before calling Vivi over. Ben was about to put a stop to what would doubtlessly be an exercise in shameless exploitation on Vivi's part, but then stopped when he realized Vivi was actually helping Red. She ended up buying two glowing, golden playing cards, like the kind Short Bus had bought, but these simply said [Skill +] on them. Red used them both in rapid succession, and then smirked and thanked Vivi, gifting him her remaining points, which he spent immediately on another suspicious looking book. It's worth noting that Red and Vivi had immediately killed the Canid Abominations as soon as the battle was finished, and that they had been looted just as fast.
Ghost Ears approached the crystal next, and he appeared to have a plan. The first thing he purchased was a fine, silken bag that Ben just knew was a legitimate Bag of Holding, and a high quality one. Then, Ghost Ears started purchasing. . . books. Actual books, about actual, practical subjects. All the crafting disciplines, all the sciences, all the fundamentals of both magic and technology. Blueprints, devices to assist in learning. He practically bought a high-end library and school system, and by the end of it, he was crying.
“This time,” he said to himself, walking away broke and happy, “this time we'll do better. This time, we'll know what we're doing. Strange Town will live again,” he swore, and Ben nodded his head.
Frankie appeared next to the Dungeon Crystal and immediately purchased nine wands of [Create Lesser Elemental], that were immediately transported in the Utility Pocket. Frankie gave Ben the thumbs up and vanished, and Ben wasn't suspicious enough to question it.
“This is worse than fucking Christmas,” Ben said, approaching the Dungeon Crystal, “I don't know what the fuck I want, I never really want anything,” he muttered, and started browsing through the menus. At first, he felt compelled to purchase the most expensive set of class gear that he could, but strangely enough, the compulsion felt way, way more manageable than it had in the past.
He had roughly fifteen thousand points, which considering the kinds of items available for purchase, was a fucking fortune. A Cinderella fortune though, because in a half an hour it was going to be like a bag of Chuck'E'Cheese tokens in a Vegas casino.
Ben stared and stared, flipping through menu after menu of amazing and unique opportunities.
“I just don't know enough to know what I need,” Ben said finally, feeling defeated. With a sense of. . . sub-optimal judgment, Ben went back to the menu that had all the Royal Class equipment. His own clothes were already falling apart, a side effect of his intense power, and also a side effect of having been on fire.
As Ben resigned himself to simply purchasing some gear, he reflected that it was an intensely practical thing to do. In any RPG, a significant gear upgrade was a significant power upgrade, allowing for rapid progress.
Then Ben felt something like. . . a flash, a white ring like the kind of visual malfunction that happens to people sometimes. The kind where they think they saw something out of the corner of their eye, but that just turned out to be an illusion.
He found himself looking at a different menu, one that he could have sworn he hadn't seen or opened before. It simply said [Sale Items].
“I love a good bargain,” Ben said, looking at the timer and then dismissing it; he had plenty of time. The [Sale Items] menu was. . . well, it only had one item for sale, and it cost exactly as much as Ben had on him.
But, it did make him smile.
[Three Honest Wishes, complementary ring included]
[This package contains three Honest Wishes, as well as a theft proof ring to store them in. The ring is state of the art in its functionality, and can hold up to nine wishes, making it the best product available, anywhere. Only one such wish container can be utilized at any given time, at least, without dire consequences.
As always, be careful what you wish for, and consider heading to any capital and utilizing the Build-A-Wish service before use for maximum results.]
“Three wishes,” Ben said, rubbing his chin and smiling, “three fucking wishes,” he said, starting to laugh, his smile big and almost childish in its innocence. The item coincidentally cost exactly as much as his remaining point balance. Ben, being practical, quickly tabbed over to the sale page which contained an exhausting variety of wishes, most of which were out of his price range. Ben looked and looked, and finally found the entry for Honest Wishes near the bottom. He whistled, his eyes going wide.
“That's a hell of a fucking sale,” he said, and immediately bought them, no questions asked. A ring appeared on his finger, a ring studded with three pin-pricks of light. They looked like the diamonds scattered over the water on a sunny day; like stars; like the firefly you chased as a child and never caught.
Ben clenched his fist and kissed the ring, his eyes getting wet. His face went rigid, his jaw clenched, his brow furrowed as hard as it got. He shut his teary eyes and prayed, and wanted so badly for it to work.
“I love you mom and dad,” he said, “I wish you were alive again.”
The ring grew warm, but nothing more, no light left it. No flash or sound or anything. Ben simply knew he'd wished for the impossible, and hadn't been penalized for it. His parents weren't coming back. Nobody had seen or heard what had just happened and Ben was grateful for that.
“Worth a shot,” he said, and walked away from the Dungeon Crystal, to join his party and show off his absolutely amazing treasure.