Chapter 33
“We really should have come here with the Boss Slayerz,” Elm called as the Demonic Lamb’s health continued its descent to 0. The timer was nearly thirty seconds, both ways. And judging by the carnage taking place all around the floor. They didn’t want to let it keep counting upwards.
“How was I supposed to know the git gud mood would really want us to git gud?” Z was laughing. They all were, even as they called out complaints. Even as the zombie sheep used the dark appendages, which had ripped free from their backs during the last pulse, to apparently suck the very life from the poor, bound mobs on the floor. “Like come on, I figured bringing them along would have been overkill.”
“We better get some kick ass loot for this,” Oak growled. Beside James, Rue and Med Ic wore intense looks of concentration. Keeping the tank alive, especially over the last ten or so seconds, had become an intense task. With the last pulse, that had empowered the zombie sheep, it had risen even higher into the air. And when it did, a massive pool of dark, inky nothingness had appeared beneath it. From which, more tendrils had sprung, lashing out at anything and everything that moved around them.
Even Ifrit, with his increased movement speed and dodge chance, as well as evasion skills, had begun taking more and more damage. Badgy, meanwhile, was in the process of being dragged down into that very same inky darkness, while Turk tried, in a strange tug of war, to keep the creature from being consumed by the void-like maw.
“I’m sure it’ll all be fine,” Z said as he tossed an item behind him. It was a consumable item, something that players had begun crafting recently from the fifth floor. A cybernetic stasis field, a single use item that deployed a static field of energy in a five-by-five circle. Anything that walked into the field, had their movement speed slowed by 80percent for two seconds. Apparently, they’d gained the ability to craft the traps, and others, following interactions with Sergeant Jenkins, the acquisition of cybernetic parts from the mobs on the fifth floor, and players finally getting their crafting skills to high enough levels to create such things.
From what James knew of the items, they weren’t cheap, and only players who spent a lot of time on the fifth floor to farm materials or had a lot of gold to spend on such things, actually used them. And this was honestly the first time James had seen one in action. He’d only read about them being used on the Reddit thread for his dungeon.
“Not as good as Crikey’s,” Z said, noting James’s gaze, “but it’s better than nothing right now. Picked em up for the sixth floor, figured they’d work well against the Fogeyman or Kappa’s, but hey,” he shrugged, shooting multiple arrows into the Demonic Lamb, while the stasis field crackled, stopping the zombified sacrificial lamb that had been walking towards him, “might as well test it out here just in case, yeah?”
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He winked at James, unleashed another shot at the Demonic Lamb, and then spun around. He took aim for all of a breath, before his bow pulsed with power. An arrow, about five times too large, erupted from the weapon. It punched into the zombified sheep, and the creature’s body blew apart in a gooey mass. Z was immediately covered by the carnage, which caused the grin on his face to falter. James, on the other hand, couldn’t help but laugh. And the others, taking quick note of Z’s misfortune, all joined in.
“That’s what you get for trying to be cool,” Faust had an electrical field of his own active now. His wasn’t an item, but a skill. The DPS storm covered a radius of thirty feet behind him and shot bolts of lightning down at any creatures that came too close.
Z wiped his mouth, before his face twisted, a puzzled look on his face. “Why does it taste like sour cherry Kool-Aid?” He asked, looking directly towards James and Rue. They both shrugged.
“No idea,” James said. “Though I’d venture to guess Steve had a hand in it.”
“Probably,” Z turned back to the Demonic lamb, his grin turning to a grimace. The creature had about three percent of its health left… and the timer counting up had just hit 30 seconds. Further into the sky it rose. Its eyes glowed like miniature suns. Power pulsed from it, and this time, a deafening bleat echoed outwards from the Demonic Lamb. It was a powerful, ominous, low sound. Like a thousand different bleats, all released at once, all in perfect unison.
Then, a combination of attacks blasted into it, and its health hit 0. Immediately, James got an achievement notification, as the creature’s body erupted, a bloody geyser spraying forth from the inky darkness that had appeared below it. Badgy was flung outwards as the tendrils retracted, the spray of blood shooting a good thirty feet into the air, raining down on everyone.
They didn’t have time to cheer, as they were covered in the crimson shower. The Demonic Lamb was dead, but the final bleat had, most definitely, empowered the zombified sheep even more. More tendrils had sprung from their backs, their eyes had taken on a red glow, and their horns had twisted… and turned into identical replica’s of the culty-looking daggers the Demonic Lamb had been wielding. Oh, and not to be missed, was the fact they no longer walked on the ground. Instead, they floated, a few inches above the ground, which also appeared to have increased their movement speed. The Demonic Lamb had returned to its realm, but not, without, leaving one final gift for its faithful flock. A parting gift for the creatures to become, just that much more, of a threat for James and his companions.
And yet, all James could think of, as they turned to face the undead threat, was that the damned liquid really did taste like Kool-Aid.
Damnit Steve.