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Familiar Magic [LitRPG, Progression, Isekai]
Chapter 2: Please Don't be a Volcano

Chapter 2: Please Don't be a Volcano

For the third time today, Ethan felt the rush of weightlessness while plunging from a deadly height. There was a moment of absolute panic as his hold on the rough stone disappeared, and his arms and legs grasped and cartwheeled uselessly as he tumbled backward. The first two times he’d fallen had ended with him landing in entirely new worlds. This time he just landed on his keys.

“God…What am I being punished for?” he groaned, rolling to one side and pulling the spare key from the sewn-in pocket of his shorts. Dropping his only set in a climb several years ago had given him the brilliant idea of keeping an extra somewhere secure, but this was a particular scenario he hadn’t considered.

Standing up–one hand applying pressure to a wound he hoped never to explain to his scar-obsessed brothers–he tossed the offensive key off the side of the mountain. Revenge accomplished, he turned to surveying his new surroundings. He quickly confirmed that he’d landed on the ledge he’d been climbing to, though the last eight feet or so had come more quickly than he’d have liked.

Another surprise came when he felt a slight vibration under his feet. It was so small that he attributed it to shock, and with a shake of his head he turned to his traitorous tattoo, confirming it was completely inert to his eyes. His system tattoo on the other hand, was blinking. With a tap, he revealed new messages.

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The Skill: Wall-Climbing (Dawn Rank 0: 2%) has exhausted available mana!

Dalton’s Survival Recommendation: Bond Familiars to increase mana pool!

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“Pristine timing, Dalton,” he muttered. Stepping close to the ledge, he looked down at the hundreds of feet of poor climbing conditions, before shaking his head and leaning back against the mountain side. Even on his best day he couldn’t do a free climb like this, and he was far from having his best day. Pain shot through him as his bleeding left cheek pressed against the stone, driving that truth home.

As he reached back to his injury once more, Ethan realized he could feel a warm breeze, and his face scrunched up in confusion. The summer sun may have been pleasantly shining, but the air this high up was cool at best. Turning around and crouching, he brushed at some loose stone and dust, revealing a narrow crack.

Warm air was escaping, which could be a very good sign. Ethan began scraping and digging like a possessed dog, widening the hole slowly but surely. Thankfully it seemed to be a chute that had collapsed, rather than a newer crevice. Soon he was able to pull out entire chunks of rock, which tumbled away down the mountain.

When it wouldn’t get any wider, Ethan was faced with an uncomfortable choice. The opening was big enough for him to enter…if he shimmied on his stomach…and didn’t breathe too deeply.

He wasn’t terrible with tight spaces, but he wasn’t exactly a fan. The warm air was a good sign; it meant the small tunnel didn’t simply end. But the most it guaranteed was a gap large enough for air currents, not desperate idiots. As he was considering, he felt another gentle vibration, this time requiring a hand against the stone to maintain balance.

“I really don’t need another thing,” he grumbled at the universe, then turned his mind to the problem at hand. In the end, the decision was made by a realistic assessment of his only alternative. He couldn’t trust his new skill, and traditional climbing was a death sentence. Don’t waste time debating what you know you have to do, Dean’s voice seemed to chide him. Ironic given that his oldest brother actually was claustrophobic.

Still, Ethan knew that wouldn’t have stopped the relentless man. He quickly checked himself for anything that might get caught, but everything that fit the bill was already in his new inventory, or chucked out into oblivion for stabbing him in the ass. Not willing to wait and let his resolve fail, Ethan ducked down and began squeezing inside the narrow entryway.

Immediately he felt the pressure squeezing him, as if the entire mountain was just a single vice, designed to crush arrogant explorers. The good news was that water must have been seeping into the chute for some time, as it was fairly smooth and level. The bad news was that it was entirely dark.

Slowly, painfully slowly, Ethan pushed himself forward anyway. He couldn’t be certain how far he’d gone as he shimmied his body and pressed with his toes, but the minutes ticked by, and the distance with them. He was making progress, but it was miserable work, requiring constant mental exercises to keep from losing himself to panic.

The warm air drew him slowly onward, and somehow he managed to retain his sanity…until his questing hands reached solid rock. He controlled his reaction long enough to identify the crack the breeze was flowing through, and confirm that it was only a finger’s breadth wide.

He started scraping and pawing at it, but not even dust shifted. He’d gone as far forward as the mountain was willing to allow. Desperately wishing he could take deep, calming breaths, Ethan tried to push himself backward. He didn’t budge. He’d been crawling at a downward slant without realizing it, and he simply didn’t have the strength or leverage to climb in this position.

All at once his anxiety and adrenaline shot up to barely manageable levels. He wiggled, and wheezed, failing to find the breath even to scream. A particularly horrifying medical case flashed through his mind, one he’d been actively suppressing.

A man had been exploring a cave, crawling through tight spaces just like this one, and gotten stuck. Face down, in a six foot vertical shaft. His heart had given out. Ethan could easily understand why, as he shook and spasmed, his rational mind screaming for calm while millions of years of evolution pushed him to rage and fight. Survive at all costs.

He was so far gone that he almost didn’t notice the temperature rising in the chute. The vibration, however, was unmissable. Unlike the previous two, it didn’t subside, and visions assailed him of the tunnel collapsing inch by inch, crushing his life away. One more Bishop lost to an early death in some foreign land.

That future came crashing down along with Ethan, as the stone beneath him crumbled and fell away. Once more he was falling through the air and slamming into unforgiving rock, but this time the pain was nothing compared to the relief of escaping that terrible fate.

The shaking continued as Ethan panted and laughed in nervous manic cackles. At last the mountain settled, and he pushed himself shakily to his feet, needing to feel himself move to believe he truly wasn’t trapped any longer. As he walked in a small circle, breathing the warm, damp air, he inspected his new surroundings.

The first thing he noticed was the light, as some kind of moss was weaving through the walls like arteries, casting dim, green illumination. It revealed what seemed to be a tunnel, rather than a cave. The ground was conspicuously flat, and the ceiling was well above his head–which he was grateful for, as it helped him get past his recent ordeal.

He finally noticed that he was sweating from more than just the stress. “It would be the perfect end to this day to find out I’m actually inside a volcano. It would also explain the earthquakes…damn it. I don’t know enough about volcanoes to know if this might actually be a possibility.”

He looked around the tunnel suspiciously, noticing some faded pictures carved into a nearby wall. He couldn’t make out what they were, but comforted himself with the hope that people likely wouldn’t tunnel into a volcano and draw pictures. He didn’t know if that was true, but it made him feel better, and that was the bar for today.

Not willing to wait around for more surprises, Ethan started moving again. At least it was an easy decision which direction to go, as one way was clearly heading back up the mountain. Unfortunately, it quickly became clear that it was growing hotter as he moved further downward.

With few options, he kept plodding forward. The heat was uncomfortable, but far from dangerous, and Ethan was growing worried that his flagging strength would soon become an issue if he delayed. It had to have been a full day since he’d eaten, and in that time he’d been almost continually physically active, as well as sustained injuries.

He needed food soon, and water sooner, and the heat wasn’t helping. “Such an amazing survival kit,” he grumbled, hearing his scratchy voice echo in the long tunnel. “Give me my own private pocket dimension, then leave me to die of dehydration.”

He listened to his voice echo a second time, then came to an abrupt stop. He’d heard more than just himself that time. There was another sound, something he couldn’t quite make out. Scratching, maybe? Skittering of evil, clawed little feet?

Remembering the horrors of Potentia, he started searching for anything he could use as a weapon. Backtracking slightly, Ethan was surprised to find something he’d missed when heading in the other direction. Lying against the wall was a piece of solid metal, bent and broken, but about the length of his arm, and quite heavy. He grinned when he realized it looked a bit like a crowbar.

“Alright you little bastards,” he whispered, “this worked for Gordon Freeman, it’ll work for me.” Gathering his resolve, he continued moving forward, straining his ears for any more strange sounds. But after a few minutes of silence, irritation started to replace concern.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“Freeman would have killed a dozen head crabs by now,” he lamented. “Didn’t he wind up in a different world too? Oh shit, and we’re both doctors…I think he was a physicist though.” The tunnel curved, and Ethan carefully flattened himself against the wall before peeking around the corner.

Again, nothing. He sighed, then continued to ramble, knowing he was talking to keep himself calm, and not caring. “I guess if I find any strange substances down here, I’ll have to resist the urge to push them into mysterious beams of energy. I don’t want to count on finding a bunch of rifles lying around.”

Deeper. Hotter. Thirstier. Still alone. More shaking.

“How was he such a good shot anyway?” Ethan wheezed, feeling lightheadedness setting in. “His doctorate must have been on bullet trajectories,” he muttered, no longer sure what he was even saying. The crowbar–he was just calling it a crowbar now–dragged the ground behind him, but he refused to let it go.

At last, he heard another sound, and adrenaline jump-started his weary body and mind. There was more skittering, this time closer. Giant rats, mole-monsters, he didn’t know what, but there was no longer any doubt that he wasn’t alone in here. Strangely though, he thought he could hear something else now that he was concentrating again.

Lifting the crowbar in both hands, he braced himself for an attack. Was that screaming? he wondered as he steadied himself. More sounds, somehow from both directions now. That time, I’m sure it was voices. Are there people here? More sounds, scraping and unidentifiable clangs. The heat was rising again.

The sounds grew louder, and Ethan’s hand shook as he held the crowbar poised for a swing. The sounds were closer, somehow right on top of him, and his eyes darted from side to side in confusion and panic.

“Where the hell are you, you little–”

The world went white, and then Ethan was on the ground, blinking and coughing dust. His ears were letting out the shrill whine of tinnitus, and he was temporarily blinded. Forcing himself to a sitting position, he realized he was covered in shattered rock. As feeling returned and shock wore off, he noticed dozens of bleeding cuts all over his body. He had no time for them, however, when his vision cleared and he saw the cause of his predicament.

The wall had exploded inward just in front of him, small fires still burning from whatever had caused the destruction. This new gap revealed a massive chamber, and a battle like nothing he’d ever experienced. Flames were everywhere, and heat blasted him like opening the door of an oven. Although if the heat bothered the dozens of armored knights, they didn’t show it.

They all appeared to be on the same side, with blue capes and white sigils displayed proudly on their breastplates. They were differently armed, though, utilizing a variety of swords, lances, bows, and more exotic weaponry Ethan couldn’t name. The small army was in careful formations and defensive positions, using massive stalagmites as cover, but their opponent was chaos unleashed.

Even after what he’s seen in Potentia, Ethan could tell this creature was special somehow. It looked to be about twice as large as an elephant, though it lept and pounced with remarkable grace. Its deep orange fur and white highlights made the comparison to a tiger immediate, though there were differences that were impossible to ignore.

Long, slightly curved horns jutted outward from above the creature’s face, which had a more canine maw than the feline comparison would have suggested. It also appeared to have multiple thin, whip-like tails which slashed and cracked as the creature leapt around the chamber. The question of the growing heat was answered as tremendous bouts of fire burst from the creature's mouth, and even erupted wherever the tails touched.

Ethan stared in wonder as he slowly regained his senses. The beast was terrifying, but also undeniably majestic. It moved and fought with a fluidity he struggled to look away from, and without fully understanding why, the word ‘noble’ came to mind as he watched it battle for its life.

It made it harder to cheer for the knights, though Ethan had to acknowledge that they possessed a certain nobility themselves. From their pristine armor to their coordination and skill, everything about them seemed more than human . Further examination brought another discovery, and he felt his jaw drop as he realized that the lightshow and explosions weren’t just coming from the beast.

Some groups of knights would hurl bolts of white energy, while others wielded weapons with glowing edges. He saw one blade trailing a mist of frost, and another that was sickly green in color. While the beast was fast and difficult to pin down, it nonetheless had countless wounds on its thick hide, demonstrating that the knights clearly had some sense of what they were doing.

An increasingly large collection of casualties proved it wasn’t a one-sided fight however, and Ethan was on his feet before he knew it, eyes locked on a half-dozen armored bodies in the middle of the room. Without conscious thought, [Apollo’s Gaze] made its purpose clear, the world shifting before his eyes.

Suddenly he wasn’t seeing knights in heavy armor, but overlapping images of internal views of their bodies. Skeletons, organs, blood flow, Ethan could see their immune systems at work. It was like the results of every test he’d ever run in a hospital were all instantly available to him.

The most common injuries were burns, unsurprisingly, followed by blunt force trauma, and lacerations. But he could see so much more. One of the uninjured knights had a lung infection. Another had asthma, one more even had…well he’d need penicillin. A lot of penicillin.

Ethan considered the still forms in the center of the room, those too far from their comrades, and too close to the raging battle. This was the moment, he realized, the revelation coming on suddenly. This was the culmination of decades of arguments with his family about his career, his life choices, and especially about courage.

He expected to hesitate. He expected to doubt. He expected to hear his brother’s voice–whether pushing him forward or holding him back, he honestly didn’t know. But what he didn’t expect was for it to be no real choice at all. There was no debate, or careful consideration of the cost. He was just moving. This was just who he was.

Ethan charged out into the middle of the battle, ignoring the eruptions of flame from the beast, and the continuous attacks from the knights. Arrows flew inches past his face, fire singed his hair, but he didn’t stop charging forward. He was a doctor, and people were dying.

The first body he reached was long dead, but [Apollo’s Gaze] guided him to the next one with ease. Broken bones, torn ligaments, internal bleeding, savable. He reached under the man’s arms and began dragging him back toward the tunnel. This close, he could hear the knights calling out and screaming, but Ethan couldn’t make sense of it, and no one tried to stop him.

Thankfully the armor was lighter than it appeared, and soon he deposited the man beyond the rubble of the collapsed wall, hoping it would provide some safety. Ideally he wouldn’t be moving injured people at all, but with the way the enormous beast was bounding around the chamber, the greater risk was these people being crushed. That in mind, he charged out once again.

The more he looked around, the more he got a sense of the battle. It seemed like some groups were trying to control the creature’s movement, while others wore heavier armor, and tried to absorb its attacks. He noticed someone who stood out in the final group, seemingly dedicated to dealing damage

The man was unique in that in his armor was a deep shade of purple, and lighter than those around him. He was helmeted, like all the rest, but it was easy to spot him as he moved rapidly around the battlefield, twin swords slashing at the beast from unpredictable angles.

The speedy warrior appeared to have a counterpart in armor so dark it was nearly black, and far heavier than the rest. A massive shield seemed to be attached directly to the man’s left side, and he used it with considerable skill. He always seemed to be in exactly the right place to put himself between the massive beast and the swordsman.

Ethan couldn’t waste time watching however, as he darted back to the center of the chamber, searching for another person in need of aid. There were so many wounded that it didn’t take long to find one, and soon he was dragging an unconscious woman back to join her injured companion.

Ethan’s strength was waning, but he stumbled back out into the chamber anyway, determined to save as many as he could. Something was different though when he emerged. The tone of the battle had shifted in a way he couldn’t understand, but definitely felt.

Some knights were moving in, while others spread out, and the beast was howling and circling ominously. Still, Ethan continued his work; he’d have to leave the warriors to handle whatever was happening. As he knelt over a third injured knight, however, he realized something was wrong.

Several of the combatants were waving and gesturing furiously at him. For a moment he was worried he’d upset them, but looking back revealed the truth. The creature had moved again, and was breathing out a continuous raging inferno that was heading directly for him.

With no time to move or react, Ethan could only smirk. At least I’ll die a Bishop, he thought, and then the fire was all around him. Truly around him as it seemed to arc and bend away from Ethan and the injured warrior. Looking up in disbelief, he was stunned to see the dark-armored knight standing over him, the massive shield holding back the flames like a dam against the tides.

His savior yelled something indistinguishable that was clearly an order of some kind. Its meaning was immediately apparent, as the knight began slowly side-stepping toward the tunnel entrance. Ethan didn’t hesitate, grabbing the latest casualty, and pulling him along, trying to ignore the heat of the scorching flames only a few feet away.

Thankfully the attack stopped before they were halfway to the tunnel, allowing them to move in comparative safety. The shielded knight hesitated when the flames abated, but after spotting the swordsman far from combat, he actually reached down and helped pull the injured man the rest of the way.

As they moved, Ethan watched the swordsman who was in a kneeling position, both swords planted in the ground before him. Those blades were glowing increasingly bright, and the knights around him were clearing a path. On the other side of the chamber, the beast was up to something as well.

Its two massive horns now had a glow of their own, and orange light was coalescing between them, raining sparks on the ground at its feet. As Ethan and the two warriors reached the mouth of the tunnel, the swordsman was suddenly moving again. He was almost too fast to see, but the trail of light his swords left behind made him easy to follow.

As he reached the creature he jumped impossibly high, easily twice the height of the immense beast. At the apex of his jump, he raised his blades over his head–points downward–then struck like a bolt of lightning from the heavens.

At the same time, the monster unleashed its own attack, and an explosion tore through the chamber. Ethan felt himself thrown backward from the shockwave, rolling to a stop inside the tunnel, just in time to witness the wave of fire collide with the black knight’s massive shield.

The sturdy warrior managed to hold his position until the already damaged ceiling above them gave way, dust and rock crashing down around him. In moments the light of the fire was gone, and they were sealed in.