“Anyone hurt?”
Grimright’s voice broke the silence once calm resumed its hold within the dungeon. The battery of deceased Gorgheists lay with their jaws hung open, most sprawled with their eyes popped like balloons. His gaze shifted to Frail’s constructs. “It is a blessing that your army is unaffected by the petrification.”
Yrsa approached. “Potion supplies are running low. Do we proceed?”
“We weren’t ready before,” Grimright raised his hand, “They took us by surprise. Next time will be better for us.”
It will be. I’ll take the lead. Frail expressed that by advancing his stout constructs forward. Stay behind me.
Yrsa tilted her head.
“The entity wants to take the lead.” Grimright explained, “Considering our recent discoveries… that is the best plan forward.”
Frail spotted relief from their slouched shoulders.
“Let us proceed.” Grimright sheathed his blade, “We can’t leave the Entity’s home without its best soldiers for too long.”
###
Their next encounter went smoother. A lot smoother.
Once they figured out how to avoid the petrification, and as long as they took their time whittling the Gorgheists down, pressing their advantage through Frail’s support, the combined might of their power and Frail’s constructs took them down with little difficulty.
Their hides still proved a hurdle for him and his allies, but it wasn’t a hurdle they couldn’t hop through.
“Leveled up.” One of them exclaimed, smiling from ear to ear.
“Two more.” Grimright said, “Two more fights like this and I’ll reach twenty.”
Level up. A term familiar to his human memories. There wasn’t much fanfare in terms of a visual indication.
“We’re quite deep.” He peered deeper into the abyss, “I think we’re close to the finish line. There’s usually a gate near the end of a dungeon; and within…”
A boss. Frail concluded. It’d be anticlimactic otherwise.
Their footsteps rang still once the makings of a gate appeared. Soft gasps echoed, elicited from the draugrs, with his lancer stepping forward.
“Here it is.” Grimright traced his hands along the surface of the gate.
None missed the motif etched into the stone; a carving of a floating creature hosting a massive eye in the center of its spherical body. Numerous tentacles sprouted from its back, orbiting its figure as if it were the Sun.
The sight of the imposing door erred everyone toward the side of caution.
“Are you ready?” Grimright asked the obvious. He saw a shade of trepidation creasing across his sunken eyes. “This will be… difficult.”
His grave lancer nodded.
“Well…”
The draugrs stepped forward and pushed.
A grim pulse of frigid air burst from the gap between the doors. The draugrs steeled their stances, the white flash of fear reflecting off their eyes as Frail’s soldiers slid into the massive circular antechamber.
Pure darkness filled their eyes. It swallowed the magelight floating above their heads. Frail only spotted the backs of his constructs through their combined vision.
A hum reverberated as they wandered in the bleak, lightless plane.
“Wait.” One of the draugrs spoke. Frail couldn’t make out who. “U-up there…”
He lifted his constructs’ head.
The same being carved into the doors floated in the center. Its one eye remained shut… at least, until they approached it.
[Boss—The Watcher—Lvl.20]
What the gates pictured did not do this creature justice. It had an almost gelatinous skin, pulsating with violet light leaking through the gaps between its body and its most pronounced feature—the gargantuan eye sitting in the middle of its torso. It throbbed as it scanned the room, spying on each of its invaders as it hovered above, tentacles lashing from its back as if they had snarled. The ends of its uncountable tentacles housed additional eyes.
“Entity.” Grimright hushed beside his construct. “The eyes…”
They looked similar to the gorgheists outside. Damaging those might prove beneficial—no, crucial, even.
Flash.
The Watcher’s main eye shot out a beam of pure energy. It bore a hole through his constructs.
Frail lost 2 skeleton warriors in an instant.
“ATTACK THE EYES!” Grimright roared. The draugrs surrounded the watcher as arrows and magical attacks rained upon it, each aimed specifically at the eyes of the tentacles. Frail commanded his lich to fire its best magic at its main eye, but that didn’t net any result—the ice bounced off its eye as if a wall had been erected in front of it.
A shield? No… a barrier.
Its smaller eyes shouldn’t possess the same defenses. He confirmed that once projectiles struck its lesser features; arrows latched into its skin, and spells seemed to be partially effective.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
It’s resistant to magic.
Its tiny eyes flashed; raining a squall of tiny lasers upon them. His Grave Guard’s additional defensive aura protected most of his precious skeleton army. The draugrs had the deftness to raise their weapons and avoid the lasers in time.
When he thought the Watcher’s retaliation ended…
The petrification effect began.
“Enchantments!” Grimright pried his eyes away from the watcher. “Place it on the spear knight!”
Go. He commanded the lancer. They couldn’t stay on the defensive forever.
[Grave barrier] [Frost shield] Frail’s grave guard erected a sizable defense on top of it, further bolstered by the lich.
[Lance rush]
Its figure blurred when it activated its skills, skipping past the lasers fired at it. More magic coated its spear as its figure propelled toward the floating monster.
[Grave thrust]
Time seemed to halt in the lancer’s perspective. It reared its spear backward, then delivered a thrust with all its might.
Shatter.
A glass-like layer shattered into transparent shards as its spear tore into the watcher’s eye. It didn’t kill it right away—the watcher shoved the lancer away with a quick twirl. A dark spot billowed where the lancer’s spear had struck.
Blood.
A high-pitched bellow shrieked the field of darkness. Purple hazes appeared below the watcher, unleashing an army of rampaging gorgheists.
“Let us handle the gorgheists,” Grimright spoke. “Entity. You take the watcher head-on.”
Three of his elites—and a sprinkle of constructs—against a boss. Who’d win? The combination of the buffs and his cadaverous knight’s pure power proved enough to at least break its defenses… but it didn’t seem to hurt much.
Lich. Provide support. The lich’s impact against the watcher solely lay on its frost shield ability; cold rain was most effective against the horde of gorgheists. The grave guard and the rest of his skeletons stood against the incoming barrage of monsters with their shields held high.
He allowed those elites a degree of autonomy, opting to hone his focus on his lancer. Two layers of shield—one of ice and strength—shimmered as the lancer circled the floating watcher, biding its time.
Watch for the primary laser. The small ones-
Frail’s mind scrutinized the watcher’s every movement. It shuddered right as a pulse of purple smoke filtered through the gap between its eye and innards.
Now.
A beam of destruction scorched the floor.
No more surprises.
The lancer dashed sideways, its cloak catching the tail end of the beam’s fury before it leaped, flying past the warring gorgheists and draugrs. It drew its spear back as the watcher grew larger in its sights. The watcher’s smaller eyes fired at the encroaching lancer all at once, a concentrated blast that would’ve melted steel into sludge…
…but it received a radial blast of cold—the effects of the lich’s broken armor—then the final layer of his grave guard’s shield braved the remaining projectiles before his lancer delivered one baleful thrust.
[Construct health: 47%]
That’s… too much damage. Had he not upgraded the barrier, his lancer would’ve perished.
Stab.
Ropes of blood spewed forth from the watcher’s main eye. The lancer’s spear hurt it enough to produce such a harmonious tune. The boss abandoned its prideful persona, drifting backward as its minions battled the rest of their party.
It then fell, tumbling across the floor as its gelatinous body bounced up and down.
More.
Frail directed some of his archers to fire their arrows at the watcher as the lancer circled their foe. Sizzles seethed as more thrusts poke numerous holes into its flesh.
Not dead yet. Frail warned. Keep going.
He hated surprises.
His lancer acquiesced with a series of thrusts and slashes, each carving its mark into the watcher’s body as it flailed endlessly. Its proud eye that had reaped two of his skeletons dimmed. Both the lich and the guard applied another layer of defense to his lancer, denying any hopes of sudden counter-attacks.
No petrification worked on his army. No amount of staring deterred his soldier’s advance. Every tool the beast had, Frail had a sufficient answer to.
The watcher lay still after the brutal beatdown. Its singular iris, once bright and gleaming, turned a shade of gray. It lost the luster that once instilled fear into their hearts.
Not that Frail had a heart in the first place.
The rest of the gorgheists faltered once the watcher perished. His lancer flanked their backs and dispatched them with the support of the draugrs and his soldiers.
When the dust settled… only one side stood victorious.
###
“Entity.”
Yrsa was the first to approach after the conclusion of their final battle. She raised her hand at the dead boss, “I-we’re sorry, but the watcher’s simply too heavy.”
Makes sense.
He ordered his grave guard and warriors to heave the massive creature up. Their combined strength lifted the watcher above their shoulders. Its flesh jiggled as the tentacles wriggled about; it had died, but the constant movement and flailing gave it the impression of life.
Deadly lasers. A petrifying glare.
Those traits would serve them well against the horde of goblins. Despite his undead nature, Frail did not possess talent in resurrecting the dead—all he could do was form lifeless minions with the essences he’d drained. Perhaps there might come a time when that feat became a possibility.
Although—well, it wasn’t hard to circumvent the petrification effect. All its foes must do was… stop looking at it.
“The gorgheists are heavy enough,” Grimright spoke behind her. “The chest-“ A glowing chest materialized from thin air, replacing the blank space in the center of the arena. “There it is. Entity, do you wish to open it?”
His lancer strode toward the gleaming chest.
[The Watcher’s spoils—Rare]
It hoisted the lid up. A burst of violet light bathed everyone with its blinding radiance.
Only once the radiance faded could they spot what remained within. Armors and weapons with grand designs, each with sharp edges and robust defenses. Stashes of potions… vials with different colors and sizes, each appeared delicious, even to his skeletal desires.
[Drifter equipment—you cannot access the data regarding this equipment.]
“This is…” Grimright whispered. “Incredible.”
He allowed the draugrs a closer inspection at the contents of the chest, willing his lancer to step back.
“We’ll split the loot in accordance to our roles,” Grimright added. “Here… We’ll start with…”
Frail couldn’t follow their discussion. Without access to any information regarding the equipment and its details, he saw no point in it. The terms they used, however, reflected the status window that all of his constructs operated under; attributes like strength, resilience, etc, seemed to dictate where their roles went. Then, the skills and talents, equipments that buffed said attributes—worked similarly to the upgrades of his constructs.
Yrsa lifted a swirling sphere. “Entity. This is for you.”
This… The sphere resembled the ones both Arthur and Grimright gave him. It looked bigger, although Yrsa’s smaller stature could’ve altered his perspective.
[Entity mastery orb—Rank 1]
[Use to obtain a mastery.]
A new mastery?
Frail, curious, opened his status.
ENTITY STATUS - FRAIL | Class : Undead
Core Integrity: 100%
Essence: 670
Upgrade slots 2/15
Entity construct slots | 0/30 | Elite construct slots | 1/4
Masteries
Traits
Skills
Bone construction - 1
Undeath legion - 2
Raise construct - Undead
Essence Drain
Bone construction. It granted blanket bonuses for his constructs and the ability to generate bone-type constructs. Would he gain access to a whole different type of construct if he consumed it?
“Let’s head back,” Grimright gathered his men to his side, each lugging a gorheist by their rear. “We shall return; the corpses must not go to waste.”