The golem shot forwards like an arrow, moving at speeds comparable to Jonathan. It blitzed past him, and sank its sword into the center of Maranta’s shield, shattering it in an instant. Before anyone could react, it was among the Uthraki, sending them flying with a single sweep of its blade.

Jonathan raced in, his stamina burning within him. He brought both fists forwards, and battered the golem with all of his might. Cracks spread across its weakened bodily defenses, and it turned to face him. Although it looked to be still in top shape, it was nearing the end of its life.

He dodged an incoming slash, and then rolled under the next one, taxing his body to its utmost. Surprisingly enough, he had not needed to use Smite in this battle, despite the roughly even playing field. It seemed that he was growing ever better at fighting.

As the golem wound up another strike, he drove his fist into its right knee, buckling the joint. As it fell, Maranta sent a spike of rock up from the ground, straight into the weakened joint. With the grinding noise of shattering rock, the leg broke apart. Bordeg and Tukar piled in, whaling on the golem with their weapons. The animated statue lashed out in a final desperate attempt, but with its lack of mobility, it was unable to follow through.

Jonathan finished it off with a powerful right hook, shattering its skull and depriving it of its motive power. Essence rushed into the party, and Jonathan gained two levels for his trouble.

The others gained even more, with their lower levels, and he could sense the changes to their auras. Notifications awaited him, which he quickly opened.

You have reached Journeyman 6 in Martial Arts!

You have reached Journeyman 6 in Energy Manipulation!

You have reached Journeyman 5 in Flowing Hurricane!

They were small boosts, but still very welcome, putting him ever closer to Expert Rank.

With the battle over, it was time to investigate the whole reason for coming here in the first place. The trapdoor, and the potential for treasure. Jonathan opened the trapdoor, revealing a ladder stretching down into the darkness. With a shrug, he started down it. He slid most of the way, relying on his strength to keep him in place.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

It was a long ladder, easily over a hundred feet, and when his feet touched the bottom, he could barely see the top compared to the expanse of blackness all around. Sure, he could still make it out perfectly, but it was tiny compared to everything else.

The Uthraki fighters descended a moment later, landing beside him. Maranta raised one hand, summoning a ball of molten rock to light up the passage. It was unnecessary, given their level, but still welcome.

They stood in what looked like a tomb complex, with coffins set into the walls at regular intervals. Each of the tombs had a name inscribed under it. Jonathan made his way over to the nearest ones, and read them.

Janos Algar, High Priest of the Primal God. Cleansed in Year 245 of the Lord’s reign.

Anissa Elgan, Acolyte of the Primal God. Cleansed in Year 270 of the Lord’s reign.

This was not some sort of honored resting place for the dead, as Jonathan had originally suspected. It was a mass grave for those who had opposed the rule of the Uthraki tyrant who had conquered this realm. He could tell exactly what cleansing meant in this situation. He made his way further down the line, and eventually found something interesting.

Mimic Exult, 25th of its kind. Thief of Akandra, beloved of the Lord.

For some reason, there was a mimic here, and he had no idea why. Intrigued, he grabbed onto a metal ring and pulled the tomb out of the wall, before laying it out on the ground. He slid open the lid, and peered inside. What looked like a stately Uthraki woman lay there, but patches of rot revealed a true horror beneath her skin. There was nothing there save for oddly striated flesh. No organs, no bones, nothing. It seemed that this mimic had picked the form of an Uthraki, and then stayed in it after death. Going by the name, it was an especially powerful one as well. There was a note propped up on the mimic’s chest, scrawled in an uneven hand.

Dearest Akandra, I hope that this message finds you in whatever afterlife you have made your way to. This letter has been penned in the blood of the mimic who dared to copy your form. After I butchered it, I buried it as a memory of my love for you. Those zealots of the Primal God that were responsible for your fall also met their just ends. Although your body has been utterly destroyed, my memory of you is still pristine. Slothari has not returned in centuries, but her taint lives on in the form of the mimics. If I could but leave this realm and embrace my revenge, I would.

Sleep well, my love,

Lord Arkanon of the Second Realm of Tartarus

The letter was made out of some form of leather, and the ink, now that Jonathan looked closer, indeed looked like dried blood. More importantly, this revealed much about the history of this realm. It seemed that the mimic infestation was the result of Slothari’s invasion of this realm, and had eventually come to a head. Among the Uthraki, a leader had risen, one strong enough to combat the monsters. It also seemed that there was more nuance when it came to worshipers of the Primal God. It seemed that this was not as black and white as it had originally seemed.