The three noobs were quickly gaining levels as we pushed into the Elite dungeon. Even I had been a little hesitant to enter after the stories of complete disappearance, but I didn’t have a choice. They all had, even if I pressured them to join me, and I was proud of them for it. The place needed to be cleared as soon as possible to protect Londimin from what was probably mostly my fault. As my payment, I would see them to a higher level of strength.
The issue with blasting through every room with abandon was twofold. One, every room looked the same, every hall was identical and the only difference was in the monsters waiting in each room. If anything, the Elite dungeon was far more my speed than one like Badaila. At least here I could just blow through the enemies with abandon. At least, if I ignored the second problem. If I simply demolished the enemies at full speed, the System judged that the others hadn’t been involved in the fight, and they didn’t receive much experience.
However, if they sat down for a minute or two while I defended them from attacks, they were given a vast amount. Larry, who apparently had played a lot of online games in the past, suggested it was a bit like a threat generation bonus, which I accepted as true immediately. Each fight after that had been slightly more prolonged, which both allowed me to get a better sense of my strength against the creatures of the Elite dungeon and sent some gains to the followers.
Seven halls, seven rooms with various challenges. Not every room contained a battle, though most did. One room had been a dangerous Simon Says puzzle, where a panel showed a rune and if we weren’t standing in the right spot, a blast of magical energy surged forth to incinerate us all. In another, the floor had begun to increase in temperature with every step deeper. Without my Air Manipulation to pass over it, I judged that even I would have only made it out barely. It would have crippled me for the rest of the day, at least, if not worse. There was every chance I overestimated my healing capacity, after all. Without Naea here, truly grievous wounds might be lethal.
However, if I had to rate this dungeon compared to others, it was definitely near the top of my list. The rules were simple - push forward and survive until the end. The challenges weren’t particularly dangerous for myself. The level gains had been decent, too, and not just for Larry, Morris and Rashid.
Name - Grant Kaeron Race - Stormborn (Grade 1) Level - 51
Title - Dragon Slayer
Fortitude - 120 Speed - 95 Mental - 528 Will - 430
Free attribute points: 210
Seven levels was no joke, netting me more attribute points than I really knew what to do with. Two hundred and ten points at once was more than I had access to in my whole time as a Grade 0, I was fairly sure. My ratios had been skewing towards an even split for a while, boosted by achievements and changes to my Dao. Taking the chance to get back to what I knew worked, I was tempted to drop all of it into Mental but managed to restrain myself to adding only one hundred and fifty. Fifty five points were placed into Fortitude and Speed to even up the amounts there to 135 with fifteen in the first and forty in the second. I saved five points as emergency healing energy, though the effectiveness was miniscule at this point.
Name - Grant Kaeron Race - Stormborn (Grade 1) Level - 51
Title - Dragon Slayer
Fortitude - 135 Speed - 135 Mental - 678 Will - 430
Free attribute points: 5
Adding an effective 50% into my Attributes was transformative. The benefits of my achievements were starting to show themselves as I finally began to gain levels again. I had forgotten how intoxicating it was, but quickly found myself hurrying the others to ready so I could chase the next room’s high. Maybe Naea and I weren’t so different in this regard. I shook the thought away like it could cause me physical harm. No, I’m nothing like that little freak, I thought with all the love in the world.
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However, it was the eighth room which brought the first great surprise of the delve. We were in a rush, but not so much that I couldn’t talk to a fucking robot shark man. I tried to keep my cool, completely failing and turning the Steelmane Lion into garden mulch in my excitement. Taking a second to clean off the gore from myself and the humans, I gathered myself.
When I turned around and the sharkman knelt, pledging himself to me, I nearly fainted. Stopping myself short of making a reference to a comic book movie, I instead hauled the intriguing guest to his feet. “You don’t have to bow to me, though I do appreciate it. My name’s Grant and we’d be happy to have you join the power levelling run of this Elite dungeon. What’s your name, shark man?”
A toothy grin came my way and our new friend nodded. “I am Hassian Phwarg. I come from the country Vala on the world of Gibral.” I blinked hard. A genuine alien. In my mind the Fae being and the dragon Mrs Naebol had turned out to be didn’t count. The high-tech armour the man wore in a few places was more exciting to me than a dozen magical wands. Plus, what I assumed to be his surname was literally just whale song. I was in heaven.
“Hassian,” I said, giving a stern look to the others so they wouldn’t argue, “I’ll extend the offer again. These are my friends and we’re here to clear the dungeon for a quest. You’re welcome to join us.” There had been a few choked noises of complaint, barely restrained, from the original leeches but this was my dungeon delve and if I said the shark man was coming, he was coming.
Standing taller than me, with dense muscles, Hassian was imposing. His frame, while large, was lean in a way that made me suspect he was more of a dexterity-based fighter. Would he be a better fight underwater? What did the glittering necklace with multiple buttons do? Holding myself back, I kept my questions for now. Hassian agreed to join us, and while I wanted to know everything about his world, we were on a hard time limit. Getting to know each other would have to wait.
We arrived at the ninth room of the dungeon and we paused at the entrance. There was a large coffin in the middle, and nothing else. The rooms didn’t “activate” until we entered previously, so it was useful to scout the place before walking in. Even then, I had a pretty good idea what was coming so I shrugged and hopped down from the entrance which was raised ten feet from the room as the rest had been. Each time we moved from one room to the next, there was a drop, like we were travelling down stairs. “Probably best you stay up there for this one,” I warned the others.
Once my feet touched the ground, magic exploded to life. Thick, cloying, dreadful mana rose from the coffin and spread out quickly. The room filled with the stinking energy up to thigh level, and I found it actually hindered me a little, like walking through water. I coated myself with Dao, but the insidious mana started to degrade it somehow. It felt like my skin was being burned by acid. I shuddered to think what it would have done to the others.
“Who dares disturb the slumber of Nezzerul, first champion of Mortesax?” A voice, drenched in malice, appeared from all around the room. I wasn’t distracted from the coffin, but it was a cool trick of the mana. I could see more and more why this dungeon had seen no survivors emerge as a clawed, skeletal hand pushed the top of the coffin from inside. It shoved so hard, the lid jammed itself into the rock of the ceiling. Within a moment, the being inside was standing before the coffin instead, moving so fast it felt as though I had skipped some frames in a movie. I took my chance to analyse the threat.
Miniboss - Nezzerul, First Champion - Level 79
“A full peak Grade One for a miniboss? Okay, I take it back, this place is trying too hard.” Wearing a full suit of solid looking plate armour, an open faced helmet showing off its undead features more than anything else. Mostly, it looked like a huge knight, easily twelve feet tall. In its gauntleted hands was a vicious looking sword, the blade alone as tall as myself.
“What did you call me, beater?” The ancient voice sounded suspicious. Curious, almost.
“What did you call me?” I replied, offended at the inflection in the word. I got it as soon at the same moment the skeleton warrior started to explain. “Oh, I see, heart beat, ha. Good joke from a chew toy. Yes, you’re a miniboss in an Elite dungeon.”
Surprising me more than the skeleton’s sudden appearance, because honestly if anything but a skeleton had come out of the coffin I would have been more shocked, Nezzerul’s mouth split into a wide smile. It’s teeth seemed to elongate and shorten to create the effect, and it was fairly harrowing to see. “Wondrous!” It exclaimed. “My lord must have scarred his name on the eternal Tree itself. Truly, you have gifted me a great boon.”
My mind halted. When I spoke to Hassian, I wasn’t too surprised because the idea of others within the System using the same dungeon was something I had expected. What this bone knight was suggesting, however, was much further reaching. “Wait, what? Scars on the Tree? How does that make a dungeon?”
“The answers you seek are not mine to give, nor would I. Earn your prizes, foolish mortal.” Conversation over, whether I wanted to talk or not. Nezzerul launched forward, turning the coffin it had rested within to splinters at it moved so fast I didn’t see the blow coming. Watching for the swing of the sword, I was caught in the gut by a powerful punch and thrown from the ground.
I bounced at least five times before coming to a stop, and I wasn’t sure how many of those were against the ceiling, but I wasn’t going to look at the dents to check. Standing, cracking my neck and spitting out a mouthful of blood, I smiled. It was the Champion’s turn to be unnerved, visible shock on its dead face. The punch was powerful, but it was just a case of density. No serious damage had been done. Naea didn’t move quite as fast, but she hit harder. “I don’t break easy, champion. Let’s see how fragile your bones are.”