The shadow assassin tore through the mist cover, causing a wave of disturbance. The glowing pillars flickered and went out all around the cavern. Sporadic lights crackled across the ceiling, illuminating the cavern in sudden, strobe-like flashes.
Selvara screamed down from above: “What have you done now! Did you have to break the pillar?”
He didn’t slow down to reply. There was no time. In front of him, already blue light flashed from exploding squirrels. He could hear Trulda’s voice, deeper and more savage, as her war cry signaled her going into berserker rage. He’d heard Ulmenglanz cast some spell, but he’d not seen the effect since he’d been busy with the pillar.
“Look out! Something’s moving to block your path!” Selvara called down just in time.
Weylan yanked the grip of his sword-staff to spear length and barely got it braced in his arm like a lance when the adult scourge-squirrel jumped at him. He didn’t slow. He put his full weight behind the next step and thrust the blade tip deep into the chest of the dungeon monster. The impact nearly jolted the weapon from his hands, and he was glad for not bracing the staff against his body. He was shoved backward, barely keeping his grip, then used the momentum to lever the squirrel’s body up and over, flinging it behind him. His blade ripped loose with a sickening tear as the monster vanished back into the mist.
That would have hurt, even with the back blade not extended. He was still stopped and pushed back, since he refused to let go of his weapon. He used his sword-staff to catapult the monster in an arc over his body and behind himself. The blade ripped loose at the end and the monster vanished in the mist.
Skill increased: Sword-Staff (Journeyman II)
He welcomed another skill increase, but there was no defeated enemy prompt. He lay flat on their back, breath coming in short gasps, surrounded by the faintly white glowing mist. In a split second, his body tensed, legs coiling beneath him like a spring. With a powerful thrust, he catapulted upward, arms sweeping through the air for momentum. In one fluid motion, his back arched as he snapped his legs forward, flipping into an upright stance.
He paused. How did he do that? He felt a vague impression of using both Acrobatic Dodge and his Sword-Staff skill. Was it a martial arts move connected to his fighting skill? So, weapon skills could give him new maneuvers and abilities after reaching the Journeyman tier? That seemed plausible.
Pity he didn’t have the time to experiment with this maneuver. He started running again and almost immediately crossed into an area where he could see, since in a circular area around the dryad and Trulda standing in the middle, there was an area without mist. The stone floor shimmered in frost patterns.
Something darted toward Weylan’s head; he spun into a full sideways somersault, narrowly dodging a tiny, blue-white bird that flitted past.
Looking back, he saw a tiny blue-white bird fluttering merrily along. Before he could decide if the bird was harmless or rather a murderous flying poison bomb or something, several deep, guttural squeaks echoed from the mist. Out of the wall of mist, an adult scourge-squirrel sped out, swinging his long arms with their daggerlike claws.
Trulda faced the monster, ran at it screaming and swung her lute-club. The chainmail-like iron fur was no protection against the brutal blunt strike, but the squirrel managed to block the strike with its lower arm. The arm bone cracked audibly, but the monster pushed through and struck with its other arm. Four claws raked over her body from her thigh across to the shoulder. Her Adventurer’s Dirndl was magically reinforced, but the claws simply cut through. Blood spluttered in a high arc. Colorful sparks emanated from her enchanted clothing and her body seemed to shift and waver as the extradimensional container enchantment threatened to fail.
Weylan was sorely tempted to run to her aid, but she’d probably box his nose for being stupid. Not only was she the only one on the team who’d come back after death, she was also capable of defending herself. Her wound seemed grievous, but it took a lot more to put her down while raging. And they had healing potions to fix her up before she calmed down.
There also was the fact, Trulda wouldn’t be the main target of the dungeon monster’s attack. He’d talked to Malvorik about the most common dungeon battle tactics and there was one the dungeon heart had claimed was universally accepted as a common tactic in most reports from dungeon survivors. The tactic even had an acronym: S.T.O.P. - Support Targets Over Powerhouses. Support targets were mainly healers and casters. Taking them out even before the damage dealers had a much-improved chance of a total party kill. While the first attack was at Trulda, the next one would surely come at Ulmenglanz. And probably from the other side of the cleared area. Weylan ran faster.
His decision to go for the dryad proved to be a good one, when Skorr dove out of the mist and immediately attacked Trulda's enemy. Together they’d make short work of the monster. Meanwhile, Ulmenglanz was fending off dive-bombing squirrels and jumping juveniles. They couldn’t sneak up on her anymore, but with Trulda drawn into her own fight, the dryad was exposed.
Weylan hurried to get to her side. He had nearly reached her when two adult scourge-squirrels jumped out of the cloud cover on the opposite side of Trulda thrashing the poor monster together with Skorr.
Even with all his speed, he was too slow. The scourge-squirrels were even faster than before. Their eyes glowed bright orange but their fur seemed less metallic. Did the dungeon use different potions on them? Of course, it did. Dungeon rule… something or other… don’t be predictable.
One of them jumped directly at the dryad and paused. When Ulmenglanz swung her quarterstaff, it caught it with one paw and gripped the other end with the other paw. The dryad stared blankly at the dungeon monster. The second adult was perfectly positioned to rip her to shreds while her weapon was locked by the first, but Weylan was there to intercept it. He tried the same lance attack as before, but the scourge-squirrel whirled around with blinding speed. Its paws scratched deep furrows into the floor as it changed its momentum and direction with shocking speed. Weylan's charge missed by a hair’s width. He pivoted, swinging, but it ducked beneath his attack. It was too fast for a creature of its size.
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“They are too big for a speed potion to last,” Selvara’s voice rang out from above. “Stall it, and the effect will fade!”
Weylan dropped and rolled sideways to avoid the strike of the beast. He couldn’t even stand up before a claw swung at him again. He dodged with a backward flip and thrust his weapon at his enemy. The squirrel’s dodge seemed easy. He pulled in the staff’s shaft to short sword size. He needed speed, rather than range.
From the corner of his eyes, a flare of orange light caught his attention. He risked a glance and saw the first scourge-squirrel breathing glowing orange mist at the dryad, while both were still holding on to her quarterstaff. Ulmenglanz let go of her weapon to get away, but too late. Her face and upper body got covered in splashes of an orange substance. She stumbled back, skin and clothing sizzling where the acid hit her. Her scream of pain filled the cavern.
A whole swarm of juveniles, probably every single one left in the cavern, jumped at Trulda and Skorr, just when they’d downed the adult one. They would be unable to come to the dryads’ aid in time. The duskgnome obviously got some information from his tactic skill since he shouted without taking his attention from the swarm of enemies around him. “Ulmenglanz has been hit by some kind of sticky acid! She’s blinded and taking ongoing damage!”
Weylan ducked under another quick blow from his enemy and slashed at the attacking arm. His blade cut through the fur without resistance and down to the bone into the squirrel’s flesh. “Bloody dungeon tricks”, he thought. Just when everyone switched to blunt weapons to fight the iron-fur monsters, it sent out monsters that seemed to be especially vulnerable to cutting damage. He jumped, rolled, and sprinted to get away from his enemy when it was briefly distracted by the painful cut in its arm and threw himself at Ulmenglanz’s opponent, which had just managed a vicious cut at the back of her legs as she tried to stumble away blindly.
He swung his sword-staff, still at short sword length, with his right and pulled out his assassin’s dagger with the other hand. Even as its magic wasn’t active; it would still be able to do something. He thought a moment if he could imagine any better use for his mana reserves, then just infused as much of it as possible into the dagger. While he could only let it float so far, it now instantly turned black and started to vibrate fiercely. He had the vague impression the weapon was… angry?
The wall of glowing mist was several steps away, still held back by a ring of chirping songbirds, but the area nearest to him started to flicker. There was no time to reflect about magical effects, as he came into combat range of Ulmenglanz’s pursuer. The monster sensed him and turned around. Weyland deflected a claw swing with his sword while dodging and rammed his dagger into the adult squirrel. He didn’t expect much but all his mana was drained in a heartbeat. His dagger arm was pushed back as the wound exploded in a stroboscopic burst of light and shadow, killing the monster instantly.
He barely had a moment to process the kill before the second scourge-squirrel raked its claws down his back. Thankfully his chainmail held. He turned around to face the monster, but that only netted him a left hook to the face that threw him backward and from his feet. He almost struck the stone floor with the back of his head, when his body contorted and turned his fall into a backward roll. Even with his acrobatic dodge skill going on overdrive and an instant flip back to a fighting stance, he was too slow. His enemy had followed up on his strike and was already again in striking distance. Weylan was hard-pressed to dodge and block the storm of strikes. Daggerlike claws whirled around him, kicks and strikes rained down on him. Multiple strikes hit and while they failed to cause critical damage, they still hurt. His rips felt bruised and probably cracked. His arms felt mangled after blocking or redirecting multiple fast hits. He could not spend a single moment looking around or noticing his surroundings. He had to keep all his attention on the relentless attacks raining down on him. Strike after strike. His world shrunk down to himself and his enemy. Every fiber of his being was focused on dodging, blocking, and countering in a brutal, breathless dance of survival.
Then, an orange glow appeared in the squirrel’s throat. Panic flared as Weylan realized it was about to breathe acid. Ulmenglanz used some skill or spell to turn her skin into a wood-like substance in combat. He didn’t have an ability like that. If the acid spray hit him, he was finished. He didn't think he could get away fast enough. The dungeon monster was faster than him. He remembered something and instantly changed his direction. Instead of trying to dodge or escape, he launched himself directly at the scourge-squirrel, catching it off guard. The monster was surprised but didn’t hesitate to breathe his acid. Weylan hurled his dagger at the monster's foot, but the left-handed throw missed its target. He didn't care, though, because he just needed his hand free. He blocked a claw strike with his sword and shoved his left hand against the squirrel's snout, deflecting the stream. Glowing orange liquid sprayed in all directions, but not at Weylan. The squirrel pulled his head back and looked at Weyland’s hand. The monster probably expected it to melt. But the orange substance just dripped down from it. The monster looked dumbfounded for only a moment, then it shook its head as if to clear it and started to launch another attack.
Weylan readied to dodge again, as the head of the adult scourge-squirrel exploded in a spray of blood and ichor. Trulda pulled her two-handed weapon back up and waited to see if the monster had any more surprises. But it just went down to the floor and started to disintegrate. Her arms trembled as she failed to lift her club again.
“Are you all right?” she asked, her breathing labored, her eyes still faintly glowing as her rage faded.
“Bruised, but alive,” he replied. His eyes darted around the room, checking on Ulmenglanz. The dryad lay on the ground, Skorr carefully cleaning her wounds and pouring healing potion onto the scorched skin.
Above, Selvara watched over them all, her gaze sharp and alert for any more attackers. But at the moment, there seemed to be none.
Weylan sat down on the floor, breathing hard. He pulled out a spare shirt and used it to remove the rest of the acid from his hand. Trulda watched, looking even more tired than him. Her eyes had already lost their bloodshot appearance as her rage had faded. “You’re wearing those invisible assassin gloves you mentioned?”
He nodded weakly. “The description said they’re acid-proof. Seems to be right.”
He looked around and the mist seemed to fade slowly. “I wonder what’s coming next.”
Trulda slumped down next to him, exhaustion settling in. “Let’s just hope we get a break first. I couldn’t even fight off one of the juveniles at the moment. I’ve been swinging my club non-stop since we started fighting.”
A rumble shook the cavern, followed by a deep, bone-chilling roar from the far end of the mist.
Weylan gave a weak chuckle. “Looks like no such luck. Sounds like the boss.”