I’m sitting in my chair in my room. It’s a nice, swivel-ly chair, with feet that roll across the floor. It’s comfortable, and I do all my studying on this chair, at my desk, which is more like an office with the way I’ve set it. There are sticky notes all over in a seemingly messy way, but at the same time it gives off a pleasingly organized look. On it are various phrases, various things to do for various dates; Rhetorical Essay 2/5, Themes Packet 2/14, Mark’s Birthday 2/25, etc. There’s a particular sticky note I see - Study for Pre-Calc Checkpoint, Beat Mia!!!, with that last part especially highlighted. I chuckle to myself in the dim lamplight, a lamplight very reminiscent of torches in a particular dungeon.
My chuckle dies. I put my glasses away, prepare for the night, and sit on my bed.
My lonesome bed. But before I get to sleep, I hear a knock at my door.
Lexi drops in.
“Hey, Ely, you okay? You’ve been acting weird ever since you got home,” she asks out of concern.
I look at her weakly. It’s strange for her to show any semblance of courtesy. I’m surprised she knocked on my door - she’s never done that before.
Actually, maybe she has, once. But that one time, I do not recall.
However, I do recall it was a rather extreme event. And extreme events call for extreme measures, as Lexi demonstrated this morning.
I smile. “I’m okay. There’s no need to check on me.”
“You sure?” she stands in behind the door, opening it slightly to peek her head through the gaps. My face tightens. Seeing her face, I can’t help but scrunch at what I’m hiding, what I’m holding inside me.
Despite that though, I can respond fine. “Yeah, really. I’m going to sleep now. Night.” It seems I’m getting better at responding in a tight atmosphere. I was never good at these types of things. It’s one of the many reasons I choose not to be more proactive.
Because I’m afraid of confrontation.
“... If you say so. Night.” And with that, she leaves, turning off the lights, and shutting the door.
I drop my crude smile. I fall into my bed and without trouble, I fall asleep.
…
..
.
“Ely, come on…” a small voice hovers outside a doorway within a hallway of a residence.
“You idiot.” The voice originates to a girl. That girl is Lexi.
With her neck pillow and a fluffy blanket, she wraps herself and leans back against the door in the darkness of the hallway. Moonlight seeps into a somewhere and travels somehow, illuminating her smooth face.
Unbeknownst to Ely, Lexi’s still in front of his door, waiting. Her face frozen in a slight frown.
.
.
.
I open my eyes.
Back in the dungeon. The scene feels so familiar I don’t even bat an eye to the chills I receive instantaneously following waking up. It’s all so normal to me now. Bending up, I see Jonathan in a new, flashy robe. He’s reading a book and mumbling to himself.
Immediately, he notices me and stops all that he is doing.
“Oh, Ely! You’re awake now. That’s good - hey, Graham! Ely’s back,” Jonathan shouts.
Over a small hill of metal, Graham treks over to Jonathan, into my view. I look for Maryam, whom I don’t initially see, but then I notice her behind Graham’s legs. She, likewise, is wearing a robe, though, the way it’s fashioned makes it appear more so a mix of pajamas and a robe. It’s lightweight and looks very comfortable, and it seems to be made of some very vibrant silk material. There is evidence of rough tears as if someone crudely cut it with a knife, and the cuts are tied at the ends as to make it fit on and conform to the wearer.
I see Graham's exposed left arm, gloveless, compared to his right side, and I'm reminded of the bloody scene that met us upon opening the doors carelessly. I frown subtly but bitterly.
“Ely.” Graham stops, his foot planted at the top of the metal hill. He stomps his new staff down atop the surface of the hill, which gleams. “Welcome back.”
Maryam pokes her head out. “Hi, Ely.” She says softly but not necessarily timidly.
I breathe in some breaths and breathe out some as well, allowing myself to calm. Getting up like an old man who’s slept too long and needs to stretch his old bones, I make my way to the group.
“I’m back.” As always, I come back without fail.
----------------------------------------
“So, this is the detail of the rewards we received from this dungeon loot. There were two robes, 1 staff, 20 regular healing potions, 20 regular mana potions, 1 high class healing potion, a few gems, a shard of some sort, some basic weaponry we’ve seen before, but stronger, and most notably, a small metal cube, with the dungeon’s insignia.”
Graham is explaining to me and Jonathan our dungeon spoils - not Maryam, because she, I assume, was there when Graham uncovered it all. There’s a lot of loot this time, with most of it being consumables. Though, that itself is really good. Normally, there are 2-4 potions per regular 1-star room conquered, so 20 is a haul. Jonathan came to about half an hour before me, but Graham delayed explaining, waiting for me so he wouldn’t have to go over everything twice.
“That’s a lot of potions,” Jonathan remarks.
“Yes, 40 potions in total, 41 if you’re counting the high-grade potion. Though we used that, and about 5 regular healing potions. So now, we’re down to 35 potions - 15 regular healing potions and 20 mana potions,” Graham explains.
“Still, that’s a lot,” I say.
“Yes, but like always, we have to be careful not to waste a drop. We need to always be frugal. These potions may be our life-force.”
I stare at the potions, which stack next to each other neatly in their caps, the liquid inside them rippling with an alluring color.
“So, we’ll split them evenly. Everyone has a potion belt, or at least some carrying bag of some sort, correct?” Graham asks.
We all nod. After spending some time in the dungeon, we’ve all accumulated the basic supplies. Potion belts are very common rewards in normal dungeon rooms; carrying bags of all types all the more. Even under the sheer force of being blasted multiple times do the attire still last. I myself still have my satchel bag, and a potion belt of my own. Inside the satchel bag is the Official Guide to Dungeon Apparel book and the alchemy ingredients.
Graham splits the remaining healing potions among the four of us. Each of us gets four, with one of us getting three. That person was Graham.
“Okay, now about the mana potions. Maryam, I have a question. About your boss room item, the ring - does it consume mana?”
“Mana..?” Maryam thinks to herself in confusion. She furrows her tiny eyebrows.
“Mana, or the energy in this dungeon that lets you use spells… or, well, it’s hard to explain, if you’ve never properly cast a spell… How about this, when you use your ice powers, do you feel even slightly tired, like something is being drained from you?”
“Umm…” Maryam looks up and circles her eyeballs pondering. She places a finger on her chin. “Not really, but if I use it too hard, I start getting really sleepy and my body starts to hurt a lot. Especially my head.”
Graham looks up - his thinking habit again. He crosses his arms, his robe sleeve meeting exposed skin and blanket of groomed arm hair appropriate for an astute adult like Graham. “Okay,” he says, “let’s try this. Maryam, can I see your ring for a bit?”
“Sure, Uncle Graham,” Maryam readily consents. She pulls the ring off her finger and hands it to Graham. Graham takes it and examines it.
It’s a fairly nice ring, certainly a ring you’d probably only find at top-tier jewelry stores, maybe not at all - it’s more likely a ring you would have to have custom made. It’s beautiful. Its gem is even more beautiful, sharing the same alluring color as the mana potion, except with a lighter, ice-tinted hue.
Dazzling. That’s the one word I’d describe it.
Graham puts it on his left forefinger, and it competes for the spotlight with his wedding ring finger. He has a bit of trouble putting it on, and it gets stuck a short way in, due to his rather larger-than-Maryam’s fingers. The ring itself was obviously not made for adult males. He tries to pick it off with his thumb fingernail on the same hand, holding his left hand with his right, but right when he does...
CRACK.
A shard of ice shoots out from his finger, out forwards him, flying very quickly. The shard creates a trail of ice parallel to its path on the ground, with spikes of ice sticking up like tiny waves splashing. The air that encompassed the ice shard as it flew left behind a trail of icy mist, mist like when you exhale on a freezing day. The ice shard disappears somewhere far ahead. Graham opens his mouth agape.
Fortunately, he was pointing in an open direction, so when he flicked his finger, the ice shard that blasted headed the direction opposite of us. Nobody was harmed. Shortly afterward, all the leftover ice on the ground that formed the trail cracked! simultaneously with a less explosive crack of sound and ice and shatters into fine ice dust.
We all look in awe. Even Maryam.
Graham quickly snaps back into action. “Everyone, is everyone okay?”
“Yeah.”
“We’re alright.”
“Yes, Uncle Graham.”
“Good, I’m glad I didn’t accidentally hit anybody,” Graham says, very tense. “I’m sorry for my lack of caution. I can’t believe I let this slip me. In the wrong direction, I…” He stops and restarts. “Ahem, sorry. Here’s your ring back Maryam. Please be careful with that. I barely applied any pressure and launched such power without even trying. That ring is amazingly powerful.”
We all center our focus on the ring. A boss item doesn’t disappoint, even if it is 1-star. I shudder at the thought that the 1-star boss room might be more terror-inducing than what we just experienced. Without sufficient power… and a child…
What did Maryam go through?
“I can confirm that this ring doesn’t use any mana, and if it does, it’s probably so minuscule that you wouldn’t even notice. I didn’t feel any mana drain from me. Actually, let’s do this now. Ely, can you try the ring?”
I stare at the ring, in Maryam’s hands. I for some reason feel that the ring stares back. I look in anticipation. I always had this excitement for casting spells, but my lack of affinity prevented me from such.
“Maryam, can you pass him the ring?” Graham asks politely.
“Okay, Uncle Graham,” she answers with respect back.
She passes me the ring nonchalantly. I grasp it. I can feel the fine contours of the ring.
Dazzling.
I fit the ring on, with much more ease than Graham. It slides perfectly as if responding to the call of a destined presence. I raise my right hand, where the ring is fitted on.
I stand back and turn my back so it faces the rest of the group. I take a sizable distance of caution, then, with gusto, I launch my hand forward.
…
…
…
Nothing. Nothing comes out. I wonder if I fitted the ring wrong. I rearranged the ring to where Graham had it in his hand - his left pointer finger - and I try again.
…
…
…
Nothing. I stand there dumbly.
“Hey Graham, am I doing something wrong?” I ask Graham.
“I’m unsure myself,” he calls out to me in response. “Just keep trying.”
I do just that and keep trying. To no avail.
I return to the group and return the ring to Maryam. No luck.
It appears destiny lied to me.
“Can I try?” Jonathan asks.
“Sure, why not. Maryam?” Graham asks.
“Okay. Here, Jonathan.” Maryam hands the ring to Jonathan.
“Thanks.” Jonathan fits the ring on snugly on his finger.
He stands where I stood before, and, after prepping himself, he shoots his finger. Suddenly, a wave of ice appears and shoots from his hand. Wherever Jonathan moved his hand, ice would appear.
“Hahaha! This is amazing!” Jonathan exclaims.
He starts manipulating the ice, bending its trajectory from his hand. Then, he figures out how to make ice appear from thin air, away from him, without ice shooting from his hand. Before any time passes and without much effort, an admirably large ice wall appears in front of us.
But a few seconds after Jonathan casts the ice, it shatters and crumbles. Same with his impromptu ice wall, it crashes down with minimal impact.
And the ice - from the wall and not - blows away like fine dust, sparkling in the air.
He returns and gives the ring back to Maryam.
“This ring is much stronger than my ‘freeze’ spell. It feels so responsive and powerful,” Jonathan comments, panting.
Graham looks at him and all of us, re-enters his thinking stage for a bit, and returns back to us in consciousness. “Jonathan, after casting that much ice, how do you feel?”
“I feel a bit tired, but not like when I cast magic. More like right after I exercise. I also feel a bit sleepy at the same time,” Jonathan responds, his breathing stabilizing.
“It’s as I thought,” Graham surmises, “this ring doesn’t rely on mana. Its power lies in its ability for fast, mass production. In an environment with lots of enemies, this ring is extremely powerful.”
We all listen to Graham with intent ears.
“From what I observed in both Ely and Jonathan, it seems to be a matter of affinity. I assumed that Ely, who hasn’t shown affinity for anything yet, that if he doesn’t have any water affinity, which I assume this ice spell would be derived from -”
“It is,” Jonathan says.
“... So it is - then he wouldn’t be able to cast a thing. Jonathan, though, you have a confirmed affinity for water, with your freeze spell. So you were able to cast it,” Graham continues.
“I can definitely confirm it if Maryam and I are able to cast that freeze spell, while Ely can’t. If that’s true, then not only does Maryam have water affinity, and very excellent affinity at that, from what we’ve seen in her last performance, I do too. Unfortunately, Ely doesn’t.”
I sort of expected this outcome, so I’m not that disappointed.
“But,” Graham says, “this ring, while powerful, isn’t invincible. The ice only lasts a couple seconds, 5 seconds at most, which means that if Maryam needed to keep a solid foundation of ice, she would need to keep recasting it. The ice isn’t that durable itself, though it does seem very sharp. And not to mention, you can’t use it infinitely - it causes fatigue, both physically and mentally, if you exert yourself too much. But, Jonathan, how do you feel right now?”
“I’m completely fine now.” Jonathan stopped panting completely and is how he was before using the ring.
“You’ve recovered, and fast. If you allow yourself enough time to recover, if you pace yourself, you can keep casting ice and not have to worry about replenishing on mana potions, if you were to use freeze spell to the same effect, if that’s even possible. Not to mention, if you layer ice, it’ll grow durable enough, as with the shields Maryam protected us with before she destroyed the monster.”
I remember. Everytime those shields that protected Graham and me back then split or weakened, they were “automatically” reinforced with ice many layers more, and the ice protected us from the blazingly fast and dangerous metal shards.
“It’s odd,” Graham says, “this ring is extremely versatile, maybe even more so than your boss weapons, Ely, and it’s a grade under. If I were to pit Ely’s weapons against Maryam’s, I’d weight in Maryam’s favor. Either the ring is just better, or, Ely, your weapons are not as simple as we’ve seen.”
I look at both of my faithful companions. I’ve re-equipped Ringarde upon removing the ring, and Cheryl is sheathed on my waist sharing space with my potion belt.
Something else?
I wonder what it is?
“Now that we’ve uncovered that mystery, now let’s decide on splitting the mana potions,” Graham continues the discussion, bringing our attention back to splitting the spoils. “Since the only real magic users are Jonathan and me, we’ll split the potions 50/50. I’ll take 10 and Jonathan, you’ll take 10. Be careful to preserve it.” Graham gathers all the blue mana potions and splits them accordingly. “Ely and Maryam, if you ever learn spells yourselves, you’re free to also have mana potions. In that case, we’ll divide again amongst us.”
Graham nods to himself, affirming that another bullet has been checked on his list of dungeon to-dos.
“Now, let’s get on with the other gear. The robes have already been distributed to Jonathan and Maryam, Ely, as you can see. They needed new apparel, and the robes here are much of an upgrade to their old attire, which was absolutely tattered during the fight. They didn’t have any of the clothing that you prefer, Ely, and they were in more need.”
I look back at Jonathan and Maryam. Their new robes are sleek and pleasing to the eye and seem very comfortable. Only, Maryam’s robe, in particular, looks slightly baggy.
“Jonathan’s robe fits well for him, but Maryam’s was a bit too big. It was an adult-sized robe, so I did some makeshift work and fitted it to her. It’s a skill I’ve learned in the past but never had the opportunity to put into practice. Until now, that is.”
Maryam feels around her robe and plays with her flowy yet thick silk-like costume. She smiles a pretty smile. “Don’t worry, Uncle Graham, you did great. It feels even better than my nighty-night clothes.”
Graham starts. “T-That’s good. I’m glad you’re satisfied.” He nods, looking away and crossing his arms.
Jonathan smiles affectionately. I feel the same warmness, but a smile doesn’t work its way onto my face, it appears.
“Now, I did some looking outside of this room. As we all know, each room is assigned a “star”, a tier that only reveals itself after completing the room. To my relief, the doors opened, and I was able to return to room 79 and check out the tier of this room. Guess what it is?”
Graham pauses intentionally, but not too intentionally. He raises his right hand up, right next to his face, and extends all but two digits - his thumb and pinky. “3 gold stars. This is a 3-star dungeon room. And not a boss one, either - just a 3-star, regular dungeon room. I didn’t know whether to feel amazed or horrified that what we just went through was only a 3-star regular room experience.”
I start, very shocked. Likewise Jonathan. Maryam doesn’t seem to be too afflicted - she probably doesn’t understand, or never paid attention to these things.
“Only three?” Jonathan asks.
“Just three. Or, spectacularly three, depending on how you take it,” Graham replies.
“But this was no less difficult than when I faced the 1-star boss dungeon, maybe even more difficult. I had two boss weapons, yet I could barely damage it,” I reason hectically.
Graham shuts his eyes in deep thought. “You might’ve just been lucky.” He frowns. “Actually, we’re all lucky, lucky to even make it past the room. We were severely disadvantaged, yet we survived somewhat. The same goes for you.”
I think back to that memorable night. True, I only relied on the blade monster’s extremely precise attacks to take down the room’s boss, which fortunately killed it in one strike. Fortunately, Cheryl was there to help me fight the skeletons. Fortunately, Cheryl was there to wear the boss down. Fortunately, we were able to kill the monster before it revealed any other special tricks, or special forms, or both. Fortunately, we even survived that long! Fortunately, the blade monster didn’t kill me, when it so easily could on so many occasions, even afterward. Fortunately, the blade monster only killed…
What am I thinking? Only by complete luck did I survive. How in the world could I have survived?
I’m not nearly strong enough, and I know, I know oh so well, that the dungeon spared me.
What I experienced that night wasn’t nearly the worst the dungeon had to offer. Nor, was it the worst, or near the worse, of what the dungeon boss room had to offer.
I was just really lucky. And here I am.
Funny, isn’t it?
I look bitterly at the ground. “...You’re right.” That’s all I say.
That’s all I need to say.
“Ahem, by the way,” Graham says, changing the topic, “when I went to room 79 to check the room level, I also searched for my arm. But, mysteriously, it disappeared. A stray monster must've gotten to it, or something, but now a 2-star fire-resistant glove is gone. I sincerely apologize."
"You're fine, Graham. You... couldn't do anything about that, or anything, really..." I say with some melancholy.
"You're right, and that applies to you too. So, don't beat yourself up," Graham says concisely and kindly.
"Right.' I sigh calmly and regain myself. What Graham said is right - what's done is done. I can't always act this way. I can't always react negatively. Not like this.
I must be strong, like Graham - like everyone else.
"Anyway, the point is, this is a 3-star dungeon room, which means all the rewards are 3-star, including the apparel, excluding the potions. We still don’t know what types of robes these are, but they are definitely very high quality and durable. Say, Ely, can-”
“Here.” I pass a book to Graham from within my satchel. The title reads Official Guide to Dungeon Apparel. “There’s a 3-star section in the book, but no 4-star and above, nor any boss apparel.” I anticipated his line of thought and pulled out the book ahead of him.
Of course, he understands. “Thank you.”
“What is that?” Jonathan asks.
“It’s a book Graham and I came across in a dungeon chest sometime before we ran into you guys. It’s a book detailing various dungeon clothing that can found in chest - insignia and all.” Jonathan nods. Graham shuffles through the book, and we all gather around him as he sifts through the pages. The various fashionable clothing appears - from body armor to gowns, to robes, to even suits. Graham pauses just a fraction of a second, I’m sure of it, to look at the suits, before flipping on. Reaching the 3-star section, we come across even more gallant attire, until we reach the robes section.
And, sure enough, we quickly find the two robes. They are on two separate pages, but the pages are right next to each other - Maryam’s partial robe in its complete splendor on the left page and Jonathan’s equally dazzling robe on the right page.
Both robes are very individualized, with their own designs and accessories. Jonathan’s robe, accurate to what he’s currently wearing, is deep blue with large sleeves that hang. Down the middle of his chest to his feet are vertical silver and gold embroidery. At his upper right chest is the familiar dungeon insignia. The robe also has a hood and separate shoulder designs. The hood can go down to shroud the wearer’s face completely, leaving only the glints of the eyes shining subtly. It’s actually really cool looking. Above the picture, centered in a bold and clean font, reads the title - The Deep Blue.
“Jonathan’s robe is named The Deep Blue. The book reads -
“‘The Deep Blue is a specially crafted mage's robe that enhances mana regeneration of user, boosts spells of the four basic elemental types: water, earth, fire, and air, with an especial favoritism towards water!’” Graham reads the description. “‘The robes are crafted with hybrid salatle-gyrocloth material, harvested from Gyro-beasts and treated with C-Sotalocortocid essence! They are extra durable and extremely light, and C-Sotalocortocid ensures that it stays preserved and vibrant! Only the highest quality materials 3-star rooms can provide are used in the production of these luxurious gowns!’”
We all stare in awe at the specifications of Jonathan’s robe. We look at Jonathan.
“What the heck is C-Sotalocortocid? Sounds like a medicine,” Jonathan is the first to ask.
“I thought the same, Jonathan,” Graham responds. “It’s probably a dungeon-exclusive ingredient or material. Same with the gyrocloth.”
“C-solo… C-salado… C-...” Maryam peeps.
“I hope that we don’t have to meet these ‘gyro-beasts’ explicitly mentioned in the book,” Jonathan says. “But even if we do, I guess more information helps.”
“You’re right. The more information we can gather, the better,” I agree. “Anyways, that robe you have, Jonathan, is really good. It boosts all four types of magic in the user, especially water, and it enhances mana regeneration. It’s lightweight and very durable - it’s the perfect mage’s raiment.” I sigh with slight admiration. My game orientation is bringing all sorts of possibilities and applications to my mind for Jonathan’s robe.
“I guess I’m going to have to learn more water spells,” Jonathan says in amazement.
Graham flips a page, then flips back, and starts reading the description for Maryam’s robe remnants. “Maryam’s robe - or what’s left of it - is named Faiiredoxin. The book reads - ‘This robe has an explosive speed attribute, in the literalist of sense! It utilizes an iron-sulfur reaction catalyzed by its unique material - made primarily from the bombastic Smith Ferrets - channeling mana into an explosive increase in speed. Further enhanced with top-tier alchemy runes and ingredients, this robe is lightweight, durable, and comfy. Feed some mana and watch yourself fly!’” These entries carry an unusually giddy tone. This entire book, actually, feels like a sales catalog, rather than my aforementioned judgment of a fashion magazine. It’s really a mix of both.
Graham raises an eyebrow. “This dungeon master or announcer sure is one… interesting individual,” he comments.
“Right…” Jonathan agrees.
I look at Maryam. “Hey Maryam, do you know how to channel mana? Oh, right, you’ve never learned a spell. I guess we can test your robe’s abilities later.”
Maryam shakes her head in consent. She lifts up hanging parts of her robe in the spotlight of our eyes. “It is very comfy though. Very.”
Jonathan feels his hand on the robe end. “You’re right, this is really comfy.”
“The Deep Blue and Faiiredoxin, huh,” I say. “What interesting names. Graham, do you think Maryam and my weapons have their own names?”
“I’m sure they do, Ely,” he says as coolly as ever. “Maybe we’ll come across a similar book someday but for boss weapons. Who knows. Anyway, that covers the robes. Ely, there is no leftover attire for us, but I did keep Maryam’s robe fragments just in case. I might repair the tear at my left arm with the fragments, but I'd need something like a sewing kit to attach it, and none of the pieces are the right size and shape to allow me to tie or fix it on me conveniently. I'll consider something at another time. Next on the list…”
Graham goes over some more items. Shards and gems that hold unknown significance are stored in our bags, and the common weaponry we normally see aren’t that notable. We did replace Jonathan’s dagger with a newer and stronger, more durable dagger. These are 3-star weapons, after all, but they are very simplistic. They are just sharper and more durable. Graham, too, replaced his dagger with another, sharper, curved mini-blade. For me, they serve less purpose, with my boss weapons and all. As for Maryam, Graham’s decided against giving her a blade. I suppose he doesn’t feel comfortable giving a weapon to a little girl. I wouldn’t either. The weapons available are also especially dangerous and provocative - not safe company for little girls, even little boys in our environment; the weapons are adult-oriented, even Graham’s mini-blade. Even if Maryam did have a weapon, it would serve more as a hindrance and wouldn’t wield well.
Either way, she’s got her boss weapon, which is already overpowered as it is, so I suppose it’s unneeded. For now, that is, I know Graham won’t delay too long in providing extra protection to the members of our party.
We need all the protection we can get.
“Hey Graham, about that staff, have you tested it yet?” I ask.
We turn our attention to Graham, who’s holding his staff in his right hand. He looks up and reveals a calm expression.
“Yes, I have,” he says. “I suppose it’d be easy to just show its effects rather than explain.”
He gets up and stretches his limbs. Wielding his beautiful spider-webbed staff, he stands back a very far distance - almost to the opposite end of the room, stopping a hundred feet short of it. Looking the opposite direction, he aims his staff and a light appears at the empty, open spherical space at the end of the staff, outlined by the golden threads.
Immediately, a fireball, about 1.5 times larger than normal, shoots out the staff almost instantaneously, firing at a heightened speed. It zooms across the remaining distance between him and the wall, before drilling into the wall and dispersing, leaving a smoky trail. The fireball crashes the wall with a crunch!
He returns shortly afterward.
“That was amazing,” Jonathan says in admiration.
“Yeah, that fireball was faster in casting, faster in launching speed, bigger, and stronger. The staff increased almost every aspect of the spell,” I add.
“Not only that, I used the same amount of mana to cast that fireball. The same amount of mana with the staff can create a completely superior fireball to one cast with that amount of mana without the staff,” Graham says.
“I might as well demonstrate too. I did a bit of experimenting with this robe when I woke up in the dungeon before we read the description. Here’s what my fireball looks like boosted by the robe,” Jonathan says.
He heads to the same area as Graham, and, standing in the same spot, aims his right hand at the wall. Fire bursts from his hand into a ball.
The ball wasn’t as fast as Graham’s, nor did it launch as fast, but it was certainly faster than a regular fireball. But, when it hit the wall…
CRACK!
A larger explosion. The fireball held a very explosive amount of force, stronger than Graham’s.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
“Also, check this out!” Jonathan yells.
Jonathan drops down to a sprinter’s position. After a short pause, he launches off. He zooms very quickly towards us, before skidding to a stop right beside us. A small whirlwind blew about him, causing some of my very messy dungeon hair to sway. He snaps his head up at us and smiles.
We’re all shocked.
“Wow, Jonathan, you’re really fast!” Maryam says.
“Really fast - you’re as fast as a professional sprinter,” I say.
“Right? What a crazy passive boost. This costs no mana. I noticed this while walking around - it even speeds my walking speed. And another thing, for the time it took me to run back here, I’ve already regenerated the mana used to launch that fireball. I thought up a tactic - to launch magic and use my speed to avoid enemy assaults, then while I’m avoiding regenerate my lost mana so I can stay in the action and keep fighting. The problem is, I’m probably going to get really tired after a while.”
“It’s a worthwhile tactic to consider though,” Graham says.
“Right! I will definitely get stronger, for all of us,” Jonathan says with a determined look in his eyes.
Right, a determined look.
Determination…
“Maryam,” Graham says, changing his attention, “when you learn how to channel mana, you might be able to utilize your robe’s powers. I don’t know the efficiency of the robe now that we’ve cut some of it off, but I’m sure that you’ll still be fast.”
“Faster than Jonathan?” Maryam asks, with a little bit of sparkle in her eyes.
Right, sparkle. A sparkle rarely seen in the usually, even now, reserved Maryam.
“Right, faster.” Graham smiles.
Maryam breaks into a tiny, tiny, itty bitty smile.
We all enjoy this peaceful moment.
I can’t help but think that our… our team is really strong now. 3-star gear, 3 boss weapons, loads of potions and mana potions - our survival rate is going up and up.
“So, that covers everything. Everything except this black cube.” Graham holds up a small, fist-sized metal cube with the dungeon’s insignia. This must be the unique “boss” weapon, though this is not a boss room. This must be the special reward item for beating the metal monster.
Graham holds the cube up for us all to see, still gathered around him. He twirls it to reveal the cube in various angles. It matches the characteristics of the metal monster, except packed into a much tinier cube. It looks like an ancient artifact, except it’s designed to appear “futuresque”.
“What do you think it does?” Jonathan asks very curiously.
“I do not know yet,” Graham replies.
Maryam tilts her head, staring at the cube intently.
We all remain there examining the cube.
“May I see the cube?” I ask Graham.
“Sure.” He gives the metal cube to me.
I hold it up. It feels unusually heavy for a cube its size. I wonder what type of metal this is - it’s definitely not common steel or iron.
“Earlier, I tried putting mana into it, but no luck,” Graham says.
“It doesn’t react with mana? Maybe it’s a smelting ingredient or something?” Jonathan inquires.
“Smelting..?” Maryam asks unknowingly.
“As in, creating swords and stuff out of it,” Jonathan explains.
“I think you mean forging - smelting is extracting the ore. From what I can observe with my limited knowledge, this cube seems refined enough,” Graham says.
“What if it’s a gem?” Maryam asks.
“It could be, but I’ve never seen a gem with the dungeon’s insignia. And a perfectly cubical gem?” Jonathan reasons.
“We don’t know a lot of things. It could be, but I’d weigh with Jonathan here - it’s probably not a gem,” Graham follows.
“Hmm…” I say, thinking. “Have you tried-”
WHIRLLL~
We all start and jump back in surprise. Mid-sentence, the cube started to make odd, high pitched sounds, sounds so high-pitched it starts to feel uncomfortable. Then it starts to hurt. The dungeon insignia lights up, or rather, glows, with a deep red color. It glows just like the metal monster’s eyes glowed the night previous.
It sends shivers down our spines.
The cube floats off my hand as it reverberates, slowly rising in the air. We all cautiously step away, in fear of something grand happening, that it might possibly explode or something of the like. The cube continues rising, slowly, and it jitters very rhythmically.
WHIIIIIRRRRLLLL~
It continues screeching and jittering for about another 30 seconds.
Then it stops.
And suddenly, with a loud VROOM like energy phasing from a lightsaber, it spins. It spins faster and faster and faster and faster.
Around us, some bits and pieces of metal start reverberating, start jittering slightly.
Then they fly. Fly past us and center around the cube, as if it were a cosmological mass attracting space dust due to its field of gravity. Just like the metal monster, this metal replica attracts metal chunks and the chunks orbit around the cube.
We all look up in alarm.
I wield my weapons, and everyone else theirs. Graham slowly inches towards Maryam, while Jonathan and I spread out.
The metal cube turns to me, it’s red eye staring daggers at me.
My heart stops.
Then… it zooms towards me! Extremely fast, like the fastest pitch of the best baseball player in the world, it zooms toward me.
Not good!
Did we awaken another monster? Would the dungeon chests contain fake rewards? I didn't think they would, but they very well could!
And it appears they did.
With Cheryl in Ringarde’s grasp, I ready myself in a defensive position.
Shoot! It’s about to hit me!
“Ely!” Graham yells. Jonathan runs towards me.
But it’s too late for that.
Panicking, I hurriedly swing…
Slashing Cheryl with hyper speed, I aim towards the metal cube. Cheryl glides toward and right through the metal cube...
...I missed.
Strike, you’re out! I think trivially.
I don’t even have time to blink. It headed straight towards me, and right before hitting my face…
It disappears.
Breathing heavily, I turn around, looking for it. Adrenaline is pumping through me, and I cannot help but feel very pronounced fear, from all directions.
Where is it?
Where did it go?
My eyes are fixed around me intently. It’s only then that I realize that it’s hovering over my head, not rushing anymore. It appeared to have changed directions last millisecond and swirled around me to remain high above my head. I look at it with confusion.
What? It’s not going to kill me?
The metal chunks are not as large as the metal monster’s, but considerably large enough. Considerably large enough to kill someone, if killing someone it willed.
But will it? I’m afraid to move, like a boy who just walked into the scary neighbor’s yard, in the vicinity of their sleeping, ferocious dog, afraid to wake it up.
But what do I do?
Jonathan inches closer and closer towards me. “Ely!” he whispers.
“Jonathan!” I whisper back. “Get away! What are you doing!”
“I’m here to help you. Hold on to me, using the robe’s speed, I might be able to pull you away,” We continue our little charade.
“Are you kidding? It’s much faster than you. How do you expect to outrun it even without me holding you back?”
At this, he doesn’t speak. All of us witnessed the terrifying speed of the metal cube. It seems we’ve run low on options.
“What about trying to escape? I’ve made it here without notice, maybe you can too,” Jonathan suggests.
“Alright. I’ll give that a shot.”
Jonathan and I both inch away. We seemed to be making good, albeit tiny, progress, but, as if I walked out of its target radius, with one step it suddenly zooms by and again hovers over me, except closer this time.
We freeze.
No luck.
I look at Graham and Maryam. Maryam appears very very nervous, but her expression is solemn, unfitting for a girl her age. Graham’s staring at the metal cube. His eyes are flickering between me and Jonathan. For some reason, he exhales.
Then he starts walking towards us, with even and broad steps, leaving Maryam. He continues walking towards us, then around us, stopping a good distance away from the metal cube still hovering in mid-air, alone by himself.
“Graham! What are you doing!” I stare at him and whisper loudly and angrily towards him. Beside me, Jonathan is sweating nervously and profusely.
Graham simply raises a palm up, facing me, telling me to Calm down.
I don’t calm down.
Pointing his staff at the metal cube, out of nowhere, he shoots a huge fireball, larger than Jonathan’s fireball previous, and it flies through the air at a speed that’ll give the metal cube a run for its pocket change.
What!
What are you doing Graham!
The fireball smashes into the metal cube, luckily avoiding the metal chunks circling it and shielding it. The metal cube staggers back and recoils.
Graham stands there waiting. Jonathan, Maryam and I are also fixed to the ground but in worry for Graham. Graham looks at us, then the metal cube, then he smiles forcefully, not at naturally as he did to Maryam before, to reassure us of our concerns.
We aren’t reassured.
I stare at the metal cube ahead of me. I want to run to Graham to help block him if the metal cube were to fly towards him, seeing as Graham has no way to defend himself. But I remain fixed to the ground, with everyone else. We remain fixed and unmoving.
But, contrary to our expectations, the metal cube also stays fixed and unmoving. There are evident scratches on the metal cube, but otherwise, it’s not damaged at all. It stays in the air, the metal still orbiting.
“Huh?” I finally release clearly audible words.
Graham walks to us very calmly, as if he were void of any danger.
“Graham… you..?” Jonathan followed.
The metal box doesn’t react. It appears he was void of danger.
“I had my assumptions, and I thought about the possibility of a mimic treasure, or a ‘pandora’s box’ of some sort - not the metal cube, but the treasure chest. I was observing its movements from afar. You can’t tell from where you’re looking, Ely, and Jonathan too, but from afar, its movements looked very strange. Not as if it were trying to attack you, but as if it were following you,” Graham talks. “And, indeed, it was.”
“What do you mean Graham?” Jonathan asks.
“I received the definitive answer when you two tried to escape,” Graham continues, disregarding Jonathan. This is another one of his many quirks - whenever Graham is riding his train of thought, he doesn’t like to stop for other tracks or trails until he reaches his destination. You can call it his ignorance, I suppose, or a sign of brilliance. “When the both of you walked outside what seemed like a radius, the metal cube bounced back to you. Do you see what I mean?”
A light bulb goes off in my head. I look up at the metal cube.
“Graham, I understand what you mean, but that is too daring,” I look at him with shock. Seriously, to derive all that and pull everything off despite the obvious danger - Graham, you’re way too incredible for me.
“What? What? Please don’t do this to me again,” Jonathan complains.
“Jonathan, this metal cube is not a monster or an enemy. The dungeon announcer doesn’t seem like one to place traps in treasure chests in the first place,” Graham explains.
“What? If it’s not a monster, then what is it?” Jonathan asks.
“A companion, correct?” I ask with eyes wide opened.
“Bingo.” Graham snaps his fingers very uncharacteristically - in a way seemingly uncannily forced than when he smiles. Graham surprises me in many ways, all the time.
I’ve never stopped to think how interesting people are.
Jonathan stares at the metal cube. “You’re saying this cube is like a ‘partner’ device?”
“Maybe, maybe not. I really only definitively know as much as you all,” Graham says ambiguously. Graham shakes his head, “I apologize for being rather cryptic, Jonathan. I am implying that this is a sort of ‘partner’ device, one that functions similarly to the metal monster.”
Jonathan nods in cryptic understanding, understandingly still a bit perplexed. I look at the metal cube above me. Cryptic as it is, it does give off a very familiar vibe - but familiar not in the fact that we’ve come across its “sibling”. It just feels very familiar, now that I look at it - very intimate, almost like déjà vu. Where previously I felt I had no connection, the more I look at it, I feel that I’ve connected to it all along - like the memory of an old friend that’s resurfaced. I take the initiative to walk away, and the metal cube follows. I walk back, and it follows back. It doesn’t attack, nor does it get close enough for its orbital masses to cause harm. I stare at it not with fear but with spiking curiosity.
“I assume it’s bound to you, Ely. Somehow, you triggered it to activate. And likewise, I’m sure you, Ely, can control it,” Graham says.
“That’s crazy…” Jonathan mutters in awe.
I reach my hand towards it. I have this strange feeling, I can’t really explain it, but it’s like an extra sense. I feel like I can see through the cube as if my consciousness is shared with the cube. That might be the source of my ambiguous, cryptic feeling of reminiscence where reminiscence does not apply nor should it.
Maybe, maybe not.
I don’t mean to be cryptic here, but then again, this entire dungeon’s a mystery. I think that this metal cube hovering in the air makes for a good match, or addition, to the piece of the room that is this room and that this room is in the scope of this cryptic, mysterious, ambiguous dungeon.
Slowly, as if I willed it, it wills itself and draws towards me. Its orbits avoid my hand and arm. And then, I touch it.
I wince. Something runs through me, through my body, through my blood, and out my finger, draining me suddenly of a bit of strength.
I stagger a bit.
“Ely!” Jonathan calls out in concern.
But I’m fine. I get back up from one knee and stand up. I still feel fine, but the sudden reaction like a change in G-force in a roller coaster caused me to feel repercussions. I look at the metal cube as if knowing, and as if it knows me.
The red light gleams. I notice on the surface of the cube, the scratches on the cube were fading.
As if it were repairing itself.
“That confirms it,” Graham says, still reserved, as if cooly coming across an epiphany. “Ely, did you perhaps feel something drain from you, causing you sudden fatigue?”
“Yeah…” I’m still staring at the metal cube.
“Right, then that means it does run on mana.”
I turn my head in shock. “Mana? From me?”
“From you. Good news, Ely, you can channel mana, somehow. You probably activated the cube with your mana unknowingly. I can’t say how - the technicalities of mana in the dungeon are as mysterious as this dungeon. And mana control isn’t that difficult once you get adjusted to the feeling. This dungeon makes it very accessible to adjust to the mechanics of the dungeon’s various fields, mechanics and technicalities and other subjects unknown to the real world. Yet another mystery of the dungeon.” Graham sighs calmly but deeply.
I stand in disbelief. I stare at my hand which just touched the cube. Shutting my eyes closed, I try to reimagine what I just experienced - the flow, the drain, the fatigue - I try to reimagine. In my silence, I am interrupted by Graham.
“I suppose what just happened is the cube drew mana from you to repair itself. That just shows that it reacts to you. I don’t know exactly why - either Ely, you’re special, or…
“Or..?” I open my eyes and stare at Graham.
“Or, you might have a special affinity that I don’t have that the cube reacts to,” Graham says.
“I have an affinity?” I ask in surprise.
“It appears so. I could just not be ‘channeling’, if you will, the right type of mana, if you can channel affinity-specific mana, which I don’t think anyway is true. But, also, considering your unique situation with magic, Ely, I feel that this isn’t the case - for if you have mana, I assume you have an affinity to something, and that something is a high chance something which none of us have. Judging from the monster…”
“Would it be earth? Since it’s a metal monster, and metal would correlate to earth. Not to mention, the whole vibrational stuff and magnetism thing going on - that would make one think of earth, right?” Jonathan inquires.
“No, that’s not right - I have an affinity for earth, with the foothold spell - yet I couldn’t get it to activate, no matter how much mana I placed into it,” Graham denies.
“Then, null?” I ask.
“Probably. Though unless we find out specifically what the monster’s affinity is, or more specifically the cube itself’s affinity or affinities, or what your affinities are, Ely, we wouldn’t know,” Graham says. “Anyways, that’s my rambling. I apologize for going on such a tangent, and for not being coherent if I was. Ely, I would suggest experimenting with that metal cube. If my assumption is right, the metal cube is probably draining mana from you to function, even if slowly. I would prioritize trying to learn how to control and use it effectively. If this metal cube holds even a fraction of that metal monster’s power, then it’s already more than powerful enough to be helpful, and, despite our bad associations with the metal monster, it’s best we utilize it to make the most of what we get and have to survive. We gained a lot from this dungeon and this dungeon room - but also lost a lot too.”
Graham turns around and walks forward and back to Maryam. I see in the distance, Maryam, who’s been still ever since Graham left her, suddenly throw herself at Graham and hugs him, except she’s very short so she really only hugs his stomach. Graham starts panicking, trying to handle the situation, in relief and in worry and in upset because he left her and did something that even she can easily perceive as reckless. Looking at them from afar, I feel like I’m watching an awkward parent and child. In this dungeon, I might as well be watching just that. It’s touching, to say the least.
“You know,” Jonathan says, “we’re much stronger tonight than before. It’s crazy to think that items can make you this much stronger. I’ve been striving to become stronger like Archie and Barry ever since I came into this dungeon, but now I feel like strength is an illusion. As long as you have the gear, you can become strong.” Jonathan stands there with me. The metal cube begins to hum very faintly.
“In this dungeon, that might as well be the case.” I sigh. “But, Jonathan, there’s much more to strength than just tangible power. Real strength runs deep. Archie and Barry didn’t have any boss weapons or 3-star weapons. Yet, they stood among the strongest in the dungeon in their own ways.”
“You’re right. Graham too. Maryam, even. And you too, Ely.”
“Don’t flatter me. I’m still miles away from anyone.”
“You can say the same about me.”
I look again at the metal cube, hovering. I extend my hand again and it draws near. Again, I can sense faintly that I’m connected to the cube, but I can’t grasp that feeling. As if reacting to my notions, it circles around me before stopping right in front of me, very, very closely. Yet, the metal orbiting it doesn’t contact me at all. It expertly floats around me, avoiding me, and I don’t feel any sense of danger. Tapping the red, glowing, insignia, it makes a short, stifled, high-pitched beep and the light fades. The cube drops in my hand, and the metal orbiting the cube and me falls to the ground.
I store it in my satchel bag, as well as the pieces of metal orbiting around the monster. It’s not too heavy, nor is the metal pieces, so I’m still able to move about freely. I do not know whether the metal cube requires these metal pieces specifically, or what it does when there are no metal pieces around. A lot, I do not know, but I suppose I will eventually.
At least now, I think, I can deactivate it. I only say I think because even turning it off, which I did just now, felt odd and unclear. Yet another mystery of the dream dungeon - hopefully, more will be revealed in the future as time passes frivolously in the dungeon and in our own world.
All things In due time, I suppose.
“I’m going to look around for any more leftover weapons and gear and items that Archie and Barry might’ve left over… after their deaths. I was looking before you woke up, but I didn’t find anything yet,” Jonathan says.
“Alright. Be careful and good luck,” I say.
“Okay, thanks. I hope I can recover other memorabilia - I think that’s the word.”
“It is.”
He nods at me then sighs a short while. “I remembered that Barry had a wristband from a gym he frequents. I’m going to check to see if I can recover it.”
Jonathan leaves to search the dungeon floors. After a while, Graham calls all of us to him.
Jonathan never found anything.
----------------------------------------
We collect in front of the dungeon room exit door. Fully stocked up and ready, Graham opens the door cautiously. We already covered our strategy and our roles, which, in the general gist, involved our previous strategy with Maryam and Jonathan implemented in. We stick to each other, and put ourselves in a position ready to fall back at any time. On our toes, with careful treading, we walk into the door, with me leading, followed by Jonathan, then Maryam, then Graham. Maryam’s sandwiched in so that Jonathan and Graham both can protect her. She’s still uncomfortable with using her ring, so most of the firepower will stem from the three of us, but that’s fine - we’ll manage well with our upgrades. Entering the room, which appears to be a maze of wide but short hallways, we encounter many of the usual traps - pitfalls, steep slopes, open canyons, and the “spearstorm”, where countless spears shoot across from wall to wall. Graham and I are very accustomed to these usual traps - the only real difficulty is the spearstorm. Jonathan and Maryam, too, don’t have issues detecting and traversing over these environmental hazards, but they seemed much tenser going about the room.
“Easy there, calm down. Don’t worry, you guys are fine - we’re here, together,” Graham says reassuringly at one point.
And this time, his words did ease us up a little. Maryam and Jonathan easily jump over the pitfalls. And down the slope, they slide down carefully. Maryam actually uses the force of some of her ice, in the minimal levels comfortable to her, shooting down, to slow herself. Graham also uses spells to help himself down, using the foothold to stop himself from gaining too much momentum, stunting his fall at timed intervals. Jonathan and I just brave our passage down. It’s a bit uncomfortable, but at least we don’t sustain any injuries, thankfully. When I first approached this trap in my first week, I almost broke both of my legs. We both smoothly slide down, and all of us, reaching the bottom, continue on this wide maze.
The spearstorm trap is something Graham and I have witnessed before, and we know how it works - the timing of the spears, the pockets where we can escape, and how to use the “tools” at our disposal to protect ourselves. But Maryam and Jonathan have never seen this trap before.
Not only that, but right in front of the spearstorm, company arrives…
“Watch out!” I jump ahead and slash with Cheryl at a scurrying little apparatus on the floor, no bigger than a rat. Actually, it is a rat, except...
“Huh?” My blade slides into the rat and it deforms. I feel like I’m chopping into really dense and viscous gelatin. Or maybe butter?
The little purple-black rat, chewing very fervently, screeches. With much effort, I finally pop the blade out of the deformed rat, and the rat shoots forward and around.
I look at it alarmingly.
Despite receiving a full blow from the extremely sharp Cheryl, the rat can still move?
With a blade sized indent, the rat suddenly flies towards Maryam, and, pausing in mid-air, it spits!
Black-purple liquid flies from its mouth straight towards Maryam’s face!
Before it could reach her, who looks at the rat with shock, Graham jumps in front of her and takes the spit directly with his arm.
“Gah!” Graham moans.
The spit sizzles on his arm, releasing some sort of steam or smoke. The spit landed on his fore wrist. It sizzles like eggs being fried. He grabs his wrist in pained agony.
Very quickly, I rush up to the rat, who stopped in place to fire the spit, and I crush it with Ringarde.
SMASH!
The rat splats like a dropped cake, releasing black and purple ooze. It’s not a very delectable sight in the slightest.
“Graham!” Jonathan calls out. Maryam reaches out to Graham, before retreating to herself, deciding against it.
“Ah- I’m fine, I’m fine.” Graham quickly drinks a little bit of his potion. His wrist slowly heals, and he relaxes. “That rat, though, must be this room’s monster. It shot some sort of acid towards me. Maryam, are you okay?”
He turns around to Maryam, who nods frantically. Jonathan sighs in relief. “That was only one rat. We’re probably going to see much more,” he says.
“With that type of monster and the possible estimate that this room may contain, this is probably a 2-star dungeon room at the least. Everyone, be extra careful,” Graham announces.
“I tried cutting it with Cheryl, and it didn’t work. It felt like cutting through sludge. I can definitely say that it’s not a flesh monster,” I add. Yet again, Cheryl proves useless in this situation.
“We need to find it’s weakness and find it soon before we encounter much more than we can handle and it overwhelms us. For now, let’s go and continue vigilantly.”
At Graham’s words, we continue. Graham and I go ahead through the spearstorm and reach the deactivation switch for the spearstorm, sustaining only minimal injuries, allowing Jonathan and Maryam to follow. We continue navigating the tricky dungeonscape, running into dead ends, encountering more traps, encountering more sludge rats, and often both at the same time. Dealing with both monsters while being careful of traps caused us to be on extreme alert and proved very stressful. But we continued on, and we continued on strong with a continued confidence.
Graham continues to lead us, and we follow. Very expertly, he’s adjusted to the dungeon well, and upon entering the room, kept a mental image of the dungeon’s current path. He memorizing our path while leading us while protecting Maryam while fighting. He’s a very good leader.
Fighting a couple more rats, we find out that their weakness is fire. The sludge they’re made of burns easily, and if you burn one, there’s an easy chance it might spread the fire to other sludge rats, making it easy to handle them now. Jonathan and Graham take care of most of the rats, while I switched to protecting Maryam. Jonathan and Graham sometimes take acid head-on, which is very painful to them, but they are still able to stand strong and cast spells before they take a health potion or portions of. Rarely, I was hit with the rat acid, and it burnt immensely - like burning radioactive chemicals spilled on you, corroding your skin and bones. It stung and it burnt and it also felt like my body was melting simultaneously. I don’t know how Jonathan and Graham are able to take so many of these attacks. Drinking a bit of health potion alleviates it a little, but the “aftertaste” of the burns remain for a bit longer. I realized I could completely block it with Ringarde and Cheryl, as the acid doesn’t affect them, which made it much easier to handle. Only a couple would come near us, and the rats would have to stop to spit, making them easy targets for Ringarde. It seems they can’t move while they’re charging up their attack, and when they do “charge up” their attacks, they chew very distinctly and very loudly. If they could move AND spit at the same time, or if their spit attacks were quicker and more discreet, we’d have much more trouble. Luckily, also, they themselves aren’t too fast. I can keep up with them, nonetheless Graham, and Jonathan easily with his speed.
Even moreso, Maryam every now and them would use her ice powers to help. Whenever acid would come dangerously close, she would actually freeze the acid mid-air. The ice would still hit us, but it wouldn’t be acid, it would just be small, sharp, but less daunting icicles, and that’s much better. Although, she doesn’t do it all the time, partly because the acid moves fast enough and I don’t think she can control her ice powers and precisely trap every flying spit attack. But her contributions are very very much regarded highly.
We deal with each rat, and with each rat defeated, we handle the next one slightly better and easier. We quickly developed into our concrete roles, and, although our teamwork could do some work - especially Graham and Jonathan with their coordination, which is nowhere near as good and Graham and mine’s - we’re making it work, and making it work working together. We progress through the dungeon room slowly but surely - Graham confidently yet cautiously leading, Jonathan nervously backing him up and aiding him, Maryam silently keeping pace, and me simply acting in accordance to Graham, the both of us in sometimes in astonishing mental sync. I would sometimes overextend to cover Jonathan’s mistakes, who would then make improvements the next time, and I would cover him less and less. Graham and I scout for traps, Jonathan jumps in to aid Graham in casting fire spells, I drop back to cover Maryam, who would sometimes use her ring to support all of us; we enter a good rhythm - a rhythm much better than I expected initially, probably because we all, together, braved past the hellish challenge previous to us and worked together to survive. It’s definitely a better rhythm than when Graham and I first worked together.
We’re surviving through our strength.
We finally approach a hallway that’s not very wide, but alarmingly long - foreshadowing the climax of the room. We all give each other meaningful glances, and this time I start ahead first again. When we entered this room, I led the group under Graham’s guidance, then when we encountered the first sludge rat, I switched with Graham and retreated to the back. Now that we are entering what I assume is the final destination, I am leading, again under Graham’s watchful eye. We move forward with determined steps.
And we make it to the other side.
The walls around us open up significantly. Upon entering the partition, all the torches light up the dark room, shining blindingly bright - per usual the backdrop for an intense fight. They seem to be different types of torches than the usual dim and warm but bright enough vibe, and a bit unique compared to torches in the rooms of previous boss-like ventures. They burn with dazzling blue flames, shooting up to the infinite sky, but oddly not lighting up the sky in its infinite darkness.
In the middle is an elevated platform, with stairs on all sides as wide as the sides of the platform. “This place is huge,” Jonathan comments.
This area is amazingly huge - almost as huge as the metal monster room. All the previous short hallways and they area they encompass altogether don’t seem to make up for the sudden contrast of this area. The platform in the middle looks very alone compared to the unnecessarily wide margins of this new section.
After our eyes fully adjust to the new light, we all look around cautiously, in search of monsters. Once we find none, we slowly draw to the middle platform. This platform must be our way out, somehow. The new room area, after activating all the torches, remains afterward mysteriously quiet. There doesn’t seem to have any traps.
That’s a bad sign.
Standing at the foot of the stairs, Graham stops us. He examines the stairs a bit.
“I don’t see anything wrong. These appear to be ordinary stairs.” After saying that, he cautiously lands one foot on the first stair. Then he picks up his other foot on the next, then the next, then the next. Then he stops.
“These steps are fine. Everyone, follow.”
And we do. At his words, we follow him up. We are all watching our surroundings like starved prey - always eager, always earnest, always ready to react. Jonathan amongst us all is the most nervous. Maryam appears to be the most composed. I’m staring at Graham’s back so I cannot see his face.
And like that, with seconds feeling like minutes, we reach the top. Graham takes the initiative to again test the surroundings. And he gives us the clear.
We join him on the slightly elevated platform. It’s just a flat area, with a mural’s amount of elaborate inscription, inscriptions like with any of the dungeon’s inscriptions or the dungeon itself, I do not understand. But these particular inscriptions, I’ve never run into before - with Graham or without.
“What now?” Jonathan asks with a hint of nervousness. He’s much more intact than when we first met him. He’s holding onto a stronger determination.
Maryam, as always, keeps to herself. But, she’s very cooperative and less downcast.
I wait for Graham.
He frowns. “Well, there’s definitely no traps. I don’t see any monsters from here either, nor any doors leading out. This may be where the treasure chest appears after you beat the room,” Graham comments.
“Well, do you think we missed some parts?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “That wouldn’t be right. This is a maze, I don’t think the goal is to explore every nook and beat every monster. I think the goal is to make it to the end, like with most rooms.”
“But we’ve made it to the end,” Jonathan says.
“Exactly. And your question still stands. What now?” Graham asks us and himself.
We think for a bit. We converse over other possibilities, and in the middle of that conversation, we are interrupted.
“Hey, guys,” Maryam says sheepishly.
We all turn to her in curiosity.
“Look at this.” She points to a particular inscription on the ground. It spells an unknown hieroglyph of some sort, with multiple elaborate geometrical designs, as with its neighboring drawings. What’s interesting is that the area she’s pointing to is slightly elevated - the stone is protruding just slightly. You wouldn’t notice it at all unless you were really looking, and Jonathan, Graham, and I weren’t.
But luckily, Maryam was.
Graham walks to it and examines it. He touches it and finds that the stone is loose. Slipping his fingernails in the cracks, with some effort, he pulls it out.
And what’s left is two buttons.
Two red buttons, previously hidden and now revealed.
There are words engraved crudely under the buttons. In English.
DIE or DIE AND FIGHT.
We are left with those two options.
The words are barely readable, but we are able to read it. And reading it, we don’t falter in the only choice we can make.
After some silent glances, Graham hits the DIE AND FIGHT button.
The whole room starts rumbling. The rumbling is exceedingly loud, like a high magnitude earthquake, except we aren’t shaking.
“YOU FOOLS! Hahaha! I was going to give you guys a painless death if you chose the first option, but you have chosen the hard way. It’s been a while since humans visited my room.” A voice echoes through the room from an indeterminable location. It’s frisky while aged, and raspy all throughout. It sounds shrewd and every now and then it squeaks. “Humans: they always choose the second option, huh? Go, my children! FEED!”
“FEED!” the voice repeats with more emphasis.
Suddenly, a magical translucent barrier appears over the platform at all sides, rising towards the dark sky with no roof. We all look at each other panicked.
“Who was just talking to us?” I say, shaken.
“Rather, what was talking. But we have no time for that, let’s leave!” Graham points away, and, behold, an exit door has appeared.
We rush towards the door but crash into a stop. For some reason, something is blocking the edge of the platform, preventing us from going downstairs.
“A forcefield?” I ask in alarm.
“Appears so. And not only that - look, we have company.”
Graham points in the opposite direction. Towards the door where we’ve entered, very far away, we see a black-purple wave.
A black-purple wave? Am I seeing things right? I squint and see bits and pieces of skin-brown sticking out; an innumerous number. I open my eyes widely.
“A… a… a sludge rat wave..?” Jonathan is the first to respond.
“So many?” I ask, or rather say in disbelief.
Maryam’s left hand is clutching at the leg of my pants.
“Everyone! It’s time! No time to waste! Prepare for battle! Don’t assume that since we can’t get out, they can’t get in. Hurry!” Graham hastes us, yelling.
We all regroup together, our backs facing each other. We look all around us. The sludge rats keep pouring into this area. They’re stampeding closer and closer towards us, and they split up as to surround us on all sides. We are helpless to act.
Graham lifts his staff and light pours out. Magically, a large foothold appears half the size of the platform.
“Jump on!” he yells.
He jumps on and we follow, frantically. He continues to cast the foothold higher and higher, and we rise with him. After a 4 or 5 footholds, we are high up in the air, just in time for the sludge rats to invade the platform.
“I’ll maintain the platform! Jonathan, fire with everything you’ve got!”
“Got it!”
Jonathan fires fireball after fireball after fireball at the rat group below us, who catch fire and, since they’re so clustered together, spread the flames very quickly.
“An earthen foothold to get the height advantage and fire spells huh? Elevation is nice, and those fireballs aren’t bad, but how will they protect you from this?
All the rats in the room, burning or not burning, stop and stare at us. A bad feeling fills all of us. They continue staring at us while Jonathan continues casting fireballs. The problem is, even though Jonathan is hitting a wide area with each fireball and doing significant damage, there are just so many sludge rats in the room it’s discouraging. If we didn’t have the footholds, we would’ve been done just like that.
The rats suddenly stand on their hind legs, and all start chewing, their furry little mouths quickly jittering, and their black, beady eyes staring straight through us, filling us will dread.
“Oh no…” Graham gripes. “They’re going to attack.”
I look at him in horror. Maryam remains silent.
“What?” Jonathan asks while firing a fireball spells. He gulps down a mana potion and resumes.
“A synchronized attack…” Graham drops his jaw. “Ah, what should we do?” He starts pacing about, every now and then recasting the foothold.
“What about a shield made from the foothold? Is that possible?”
“I don’t suppose - the footholds are rather thin, and it won’t hold up against so much acid… but…”
We interact in quick succession, asking questions and relaying back and forth. Graham continues pacing while all of us keep our eyes focused on the innumerable vermin staring evilly at us. We are severely outnumbered.
“What about Maryam?” Jonathan finally says. “Can she cast a shield to protect us?”
Maryam doesn’t say anything, still silent. But she’s ashen white, and doesn’t appear to be responding anytime soon.
I grip my weapons bitterly. I want to do something, anything, to help - but I’m helpless.
“ATTACK! KILL THEM ALL!” The voice in the sky screeches.
“No time!” Graham gathers us all together into a huddle.
And just then… all the rats fire around us!
Quickly, in a split second, my view is filled with countless projectiles of liquid, individually small, collectively hope-tearing. Just as we are about to be hit, suddenly, I see my friends around me dip down out of sight, blurring simultaneously.
And I fall with them as well.
Falling suddenly and quickly.
From such a great height, it takes no time for us to pick speed and speed through the air at an alarming rate. I try to reach and grab onto something to no avail. My body floats and my heart clenches as I steepen.
Graham released the foothold, or rather, let it expire, and so we all fell. Because we dropped, though, we were able to avoid the mass collection of acidic, deadly spit shooting from all distances towards us, crisscrossing throughout the air. I can hear mass sizzling all about.
It appears the rats can get hurt by their own spit?
But more alarming is our descent. We are falling and are about to hit the ground!
But before we could, I suddenly feel a smooth and cold sensation under me, and when I look down, I find that I’m sliding down what appears to be an ice ramp!
Maryam! I look back and see her with her hand extended and the veins on her face bulging slightly. Everyone around me is also sliding down on makeshift ice slides that soon crumble.
But, our point of conversion, the exit, is covered with tens of hundreds of sludge rats, and the ground is blanketed with hundreds more.
There is no end to the number of sludge rats! What type of dungeon room is this? Is this why the dungeon room is so big? To fit in all these rats that seem to be infinitely replacing themselves? Why the difficulty gap from the maze to here?
A rat suddenly jumps on my right hand, atop Ringarde, which I smash into the ground. It creates a small tremble, crushing the rat completely into goo. Oddly enough, the surrounding rats also seemed to be shaken by the vibrations, causing them to melt and deform a bit.
I pay no attention to it though as more rats jump at me from all sides. I preoccupy myself with trying to keep them off using Ringarde, while looking down our path. Maryam’s prolonging our path to our destination by adding twists and turns, delaying our inevitable crash into inevitableness. She can’t hold it long, though, I know.
“Jonathan! Fire!”
“Right!”
Jonathan and Graham both, while sliding, fire 3 successive fireballs each into the exit, smashing into the rats and easily incinerating them. They are easily cleared, leaving a sizable gap in the ground where no living sludge rats lie.
Just in time for Maryam to cast us right toward the exit.
And we reach the exit, just a hundred feet away. Jonathan and Graham continue casting fireballs towards rats filling the gap. We all land next to each other at the same time, and spending no time, we all run towards the exit. Maryam drops from her ‘slide’, falling off prematurely, sweating profusely and huffing rather heavily. She maintained 4 simultaneous ice slides for a good 20 seconds. She should be exhausted.
I take no time to catch her falling in mid-air, put her on my back, and run alongside Jonathan and Graham, still preoccupied taking care of sludge rats.
“You think I’d let you away!” The voice says playfully and filled with subverted mockery and distaste. “Haha! Humans, prepare to die and suffer an absolutely painful death… HAHA…” The voice laughs absolutely disgustingly.
“ALMOST THERE!” Graham yells. We were running for about 10 seconds, but those 10 seconds felt like an eternity. All around us sludge rats of all numbers caved into us, and all of us were preoccupied with reaching the exit!
Almost there..!
Almost...
… there..!
SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAK!
We stop to a halt, just a few feet away from the door. To our horror, tens of hundreds of rats climb down from the shrouded, unknown sky, down the wall, easily stubbing all our hard work.
Hundreds of thousands of rats have now congregated into one convenient stack right in front of us.
A stack as tall as a building, and then some buildings-
And then some.
“You think it was going to be that easy? Kfukfukfu, not a chance!”
The voice sounds like it is playing a game with us.
It really is.
Jonathan, running from behind me, focused on stopping the rats behind us, easily catches up to us with his speed and bumps into me and starts. “Hey, what’s the ho-”
He turns and sees this monster of monsters and opens his jaw in almost wonder. Graham beside me is silent - he doesn’t even think to pace what to do, not like he can, anyway. Maryam is half-conscious on my back.
Behind me, I hear chewing of all kinds. All kinds of nasty chewing, at levels almost deafening.
I wish it was deafening.
The tower of sludge rats sways and loses balance, and rat armageddon topples above us.
We’re doomed. Despite receiving such a generous upgrade in our arsenal, it proves almost useless besides prolonging our demise.
“We’re doomed.” I can’t help but let out softly.
“NOT YET!” Graham screams. “WE CAN STILL-”
The rats fall on us, and I can very visibly hear the sounds of sizzling.
Painful, painful sizzling.