– Era of the Wastes, Cycle 218, Season of the Setting Sun, Day 92 –
“Do you trust the Arcanian?” Chun asked Zhang. The eyes of the tall woman lingered with intense curiosity on the face of her senior brother.
By now, roughly half of all the martialists that were left in the folded space had chosen to cooperate with Terry. They were busy preparing fortifications and keeping their attention towards the spots that the Arcanian had pointed out.
After a long pause of consideration, Zhang replied: “I trust that he tells what he believes to be the truth.”
“From my dealings with Terry, I think the Arcanian is wearing his heart on his face.” Annabelle interjected unasked. She had switched her combat robes and was not wearing the shimmering uniform of the Blazing Sun Sect anymore. “I’ve met eight-year olds that had better control of their facial expressions.”
“I think I’ll also trust his character,” continued Zhang. His sunken eyes were looking over the horizon. “He never bothered us after our initial conflict. If he chose to remain here for the reasons he stated, then he’s…”
“An absolute fool?” suggested Chun while looking at her own tall shadow next to Zhang’s.
Zhang smirked faintly. “Are you insulting him or me?”
Chun smiled faintly. She chose not to answer and instead asked another question. “No one has ever returned after the tomb had closed.”
“They stood alone and unprepared.” Chalita in her newly assimilated body joined the conversation. Her eyes rested on Terry’s back. “If only half of what the Arcanian has predicted is on the mark, then we have better chances than anyone before us. It might be the last chance we will get. I, for one, don’t intend to waste it. I don’t care what’s coming. If it stands in my way, I will pierce through and overcome it. I still have shit to do and I’m sure you do too. Stop wasting your time and breath with pointless chit-chat.”
Meanwhile, Terry stood further to the front and slightly up in the sky. He did not know what he hated more, having to decipher subtle mana distortions that none of the others could see, or having all the martialists staring holes into his back.
He almost wished for the seal on the gate to unravel more quickly just so that he would finally have something more to go on.
At least we now have some reasonable fortifications to retreat to if I’m right.
He continued observing both the preparations and the changes in mana all around the pocket realm.
Careful what you wish for…
Terry noticed an accelerating pattern in the mana distortion. It was elevated a few meters above the ground and spread outwards. He reminded himself to be careful. Even if he had figured out the general situation, he knew nothing about what they would be facing.
A bright orange-golden light started burning at the center of the pattern Terry had noticed. It looked as if reality was a sheet of paper and someone had thrown fire at it. The flame peeled away one realm and revealed another behind.
Not another realm. Terry made another educated guess. Another sealed space, but connected to a different realm. Some kind of isolation chamber between realms? An overflow chamber in case the dungeon gets overwhelmed?
Terry’s mana rushed into the slightest opening. His mana sight might not be able to see beyond the seal’s limit, but his mana touch was still feasible as an option for scouting. Consequently, he felt them before he could see them, and what he felt made his spine tingle with an eerie chill.
An army of humans? No, of elves. Pointy ears but somewhat distorted features. Their movements are weird. Unnatural.
Four-legged beasts. Many of them. Sizes ranging from darkblood hyenas to large windvenom grizzlies. The mana is strange…
Wastes, are these giant bodies moving? Are these arms and legs? The only giants I ever heard of were the ogres among the goblinoids. I thought goblins were extinct!
The folks’ signatures carry different aspects but… Something is strange in their mana signatures. Same abnormality as in the beasts.
Terry hesitated to share his scouting results. Based on the dungeon’s reaction, he had expected some otherworldly creatures. Vicious and beastly like the hellspawn. However, even though he had sensed some strange goblinoids mixed in, the rest did not seem that out of place for his native realm. If they were indeed elves, then they were folks. Sentient and sapient.
Terry’s next best guess was to search for otherrealm channelers, but he did not detect a single channeling anchor on any of the beings he was feeling.
That only leaves the strange mana they all share…
Terry made up his mind and raised his hand for the martialists to see. “Hold!” He confirmed once more that the change in ambient mana that marked the dungeon’s reach extended to the unfolding gate.
Let’s wait for the dungeon’s reaction before we make a move.
His gut was telling him that a battle was inevitable and that there was something with these incoming folks that he was missing. Otherwise, the stories about this place simply did not make any sense. True, there were incongruities even after taking into account that multiple different actors were involved in what was going on with this folded space, but something had to explain what happened to all of the previous martialists and what the projected senior had been alluding to.
Terry was almost certain that these visitors would be hostile. Nevertheless, almost was not enough. He wanted to be sure. One did not simply ambush folks on a hunch. He involuntarily thought of his first bounty hunting examination again. Just like then, Terry had to see the opponent’s face before he was able to make the final decision and shed his desire for restraint.
If the dungeon engages them in battle, then we might get a better idea of whom or what we are dealing with. How they fight and act.
Terry was observing the opened gate with mana-enhanced eyes and intense concentration.
The first to step through the gap in reality was an elven woman wearing intricate metal armor. She jumped down and landed heavily on the ground. Others were following close behind her.
The first thing that most of the martialists focused on was the crimson glow that covered each of the arrivals.
Terry, by contrast, was immediately drawn to some of the distorted features he had felt with his mana touch.
Are these… mushrooms? Why are they wearing mushrooms—? No.
Terry saw it in their eyes. Their dull lifeless eyes. Bright with mana use, but dull nonetheless. The same set of empty looks among all of them, beasts and folks alike. It was the only common feature aside from the crimson glow.
Their armors, their weapons, their clothing, their aspects, the species of mana corrupted – all varied. Only the crimson glow, the strange mana abnormality, and the mushrooms growing from their bodies were a constant among all of the invaders.
A long time ago, Terry had heard about magic that caused fungus spores to infect ants and take over their bodies. Instructor Khaled and researcher Mercedes had shown the zombie ants to his group during their introduction to mana curses expedition.
Terry sensed the dungeon react before he saw it with his own eyes. All of the dungeon creatures were rushing towards the incoming mana cursed.
Madness.
Do dungeons get triggered by mana curses? I’ve never heard of that regarding the undead curses. Ghouls, zombies, death aura, vampirism… I’ve definitely heard Jorg talk about vampire dungeon delvers before.
Then…
The dungeon had arrived in force. Dungeon constructs were setting up divisions and charging into the incoming armies. Mana-assimilated creatures of the dungeon tore into the mana-cursed beasts.
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Terry noted two points of interest. First, the dungeon’s mana-assimilated creatures carried cores, but otherwise, they looked exactly like some of the magic beasts that had appeared core-less throughout the past year.
Second, the fungus-infested army was firing off mana abilities.
They can still use magic?
Terry involuntarily scowled when the fungus elves began retaliating against the dungeon with structured magic. Spellwork.
Spellwork maybe but…
Terry recognized some of the spell structures but they looked strangely foreign at the same time. He remembered the research of his uncle Samuel, who was tasked with the development of new spell structures. There could be large differences between a working spell structure and an optimal one. The magic that these elves were casting appeared flawed to Terry’s eyes.
Flawed. Early stages. Old.
Ancient. As if they have been cut off from all magic progress since the days of the Ancestral Empire.
Terry was still connecting the pieces of information in front of him when the first giant slammed onto the ground. Seeing the mushroom-sprouting giant that was as tall as most of their sect’s residences caused some of the mana martialists to lose it. Not everyone had faced giant behemoths or elder wyverns before and overcome with fear, these martialists turned to flee.
The terrified martialists didn’t make it far before their equipment was transfixed in the air. Dozens of meters away, a stern-faced Terry was briefly glancing at them before facing the battle and shouting over his shoulder. “Your lives are your own, but these items were mine and are going to fight.”
“Cowards!” Other martialists instantly derided them.
“Have you no shame?!”
“I warned you,” growled Guillermo with flaring mana.
“Would you rather fight alone?” Chalita sneered at the would-be-deserters. “Die somewhere in a ditch when they find you? If you want to live, you better find some determination. You won’t get a better opportunity than now.”
“No one has ever returned from here alive,” roared Chun. The tall woman raised her sword and demanded: “Isn’t it a cultivator’s path to defy the heavens?! Rebel against our fates?!”
“Being the first to return has a nice ring to it,” added a masked felan with leopard spots. “Forget exiting with a ticket like a coward. This is an honor worthy of the great me!”
Terry held himself back from snorting at Rafael’s shout. He had heard enough of the felan’s false outer bravado to take the remarks seriously. No matter. If it helped them fight, then so be it. Whatever worked for them. He would take what he can get.
While Terry stood steadfast in front, the martialists were egging each other on until nearly all of them had resolved themselves to fight once more.
Terry recalled the image of an emaciated elven woman jumping fearlessly into the path of an invading army of hellspawn. He turned one last time to look at his questionable allies. A ragtag bunch of greedy martialists with overgrown egos and who had probably never seen an alliance end in anything but betrayal.
“The fight is there.” Terry pointed and glared at the martialists. “I don’t care what kind of grudges you have with each other. I don’t care what you have done to each other in the past. I don’t care if we get along or not. But if anyone dares to try and backstab someone during the fight, I’ll find you afterwards.” He moved his gaze towards the raging battle and continued in a growl: “And I’ll make you regret it.”
Despite the crescendo of violence in the distance, Terry’s words were crystal clear to everyone. He knew that he was not the Valkyrie, but he hoped that his words at least carried some weight. Whatever was necessary to hold this shaky alliance together until the threat has been dealt with.
He was honestly glad that the martialists couldn’t see his face anymore, because there was simply no end to the invaders. Terry was frantically pressing his mana detection field outwards, but the fungus army appeared unending.
No, there has to be an end. Their magic is ancient. There might be many, but there must be an end. They have been contained since ancient times. The dungeon probably works to keep them at bay while the gate gets resealed. Whittling down their numbers over the ages while preventing the main force from marching through.
So what? Even the ones I can already see are at least double what the dungeon is moving in total forces. The martialists and I are like a drop in a bucket with our numbers.
“Do what I can before figuring out how to do more.” Terry muttered to himself. He subconsciously felt his forearm. His fingers traced the septimum bracer and he remembered the whaka ritual for making the first move in battle. Unfortunately, he was not here with his whaka. He had to figure this situation out without them.
If there is a mana curse, then there might be a source. Or a controller like with death whisperers for the death aura curse. If we’re lucky, we just have to find and kill a curse mage. If we’re unlucky, the enemies persist even without active control.
Terry let his mana wash over the battle while trying to make sense of all the different inputs from his mana perception.
I don’t sense any source. But…
“We’ll have to move there!” Terry shouted.
“Do we really?”
“Closer to the battle? I thought we could just, I dunno, provide very, uhh, very very long-range support or something.”
“You cowardly weasel…”
“Enough!” barked Terry. “First objective is to make up for the dungeon’s weak points. First priority is taking out the fungus elves with healing magic. Second priority is taking out their earth mages.”
“I’d rather do something about these teeth-y beasts.”
“Or the giants, because fuck that.”
“The more they heal, the slower they die. The dungeon doesn’t seem to have access to comparable recovery magic,” reminded Terry pointedly. He had seen an advantage in healing play out during the battle against Willow’s forces in the Libra Outpost. This time, he could not rely on a storage full of high-quality healing scrolls and potions to overcome it.
“The more they reshape the terrain to their advantage, the worse it will get,” continued Terry. He himself knew best the advantage that a well-placed set of immovable objects could provide him. The problem arising from a large group of earth mages appeared exceedingly obvious to him.
“If you see other opportunities, feel free to take them, but remember that your mana is limited,” warned Terry. “We have to prioritize.”
In the distance, Terry saw countless shield-legger constructs assemble to block the club of a fungus-infested giant. It had been more than two years since Terry had last seen these walking shield constructs. They were not dangerous on their own, but they could be annoying in combination with other creatures the dungeon was throwing out.
Almost as if to prove the point, a large squad of dungeon-assimilated mana-corrupted spiders were shooting out enhanced strings to trap the giant in place. A barrage of earth-shattering booms announced the firing of many large vacuum cannon constructs that had been strengthened by the Aspiring Soul.
Terry narrowed his eyes and observed the exploding giant’s corpse. The blood was red with a slight tint of blue. It was spurting out of the holes, which indicated that the blood was still flowing through the giant’s veins and arteries. This proved that these fungus-infested beings were not like undead zombies whose blood had become stale, stagnant, and foul. The mana curse appeared to preserve the body’s functions completely.
Terry’s sensitive mana sight picked up a cloud of dust-like mana exploding outwards when the giant’s wounds opened.
“Spores?” Terry frowned and added another command: “Try to maintain some distance. If you have to get into close-combat, make it quick, and… avoid inhaling.” I guess. He ignored the questioning stares and equipped his own scent mask. If this was a mana curse, then they had to be careful. He had no idea how the curse spread. He knew that they probably wouldn’t be able to avoid getting close and he could only continue with another educated guess.
Now masked and looking through his barrier visor, Terry added one last reminder: “Above all: Stay out of the dungeon’s way.”
Afterwards, he charged towards the battle on layers of translucent golden mana. The mana martialists followed him with a mixture of wariness and grim determination. To their relief, the dungeon creatures acted like Terry had predicted. They ignored their approach and concentrated on fighting the invading fungus-cursed army.
Before long, Terry was faced with an incoming barrage of thorn projectiles carrying the nature aspect. If the ominous fungus infection or the dungeon’s mad attack reflex hadn’t already persuaded Terry that he was facing an enemy invasion, then this obviously hostile spellwork would have done the trick. These invaders evidently had no qualms about attacking sapient folks without a warning.
Fortunately, Terry had been expecting as much and was not caught off-guard. He calmly transfixed a sequence of tertium slabs to block. He made sure to also provide enough cover for the martialists behind and below him.
Terry tentatively caught one of the incoming thorns with his Immovable Object spell. The successful activation was both good and bad. On the one hand, Terry would be able to stop the thorns instantly with his spell. On the other hand, the physical spell medium meant that they would continue with their momentum even if he managed to disrupt the spell structure.
Terry breathed deeply while searching for the spell’s activation center. He discovered it not that far from his position. The active spell was continuously raining down thorns and there were many such spells raging in the sky. Below, a few smaller dungeon-assimilated magic beasts were hit. Their movements became more sluggish. Their aim when unleashing their own abilities became worse.
Having understood the situation, Terry equipped a shield and his inscribed barrier spear and darted through the barrage of thorns. He could create a disruption field and redirect it into a disruption rush that targeted the thorn spell, but Terry recoiled at the idea of wasting this much mana to avoid a few steps. He also wanted to try something.
Terry punched out a simple discharge as soon as the activation center was in range. Thankfully, his increased control and reach allowed him to continue directing his discharged mana, which did wonders for the range, accuracy, and mana cost of his normal discharges.
The sharp spell slicers rushed towards the thorn spell’s structure and easily ripped it apart.
Terry nodded to himself after confirming his suspicion. Long-distance. Area of effect. Creating a physical medium. Debilitating effects that lasted longer than a few seconds. A continuous activation. Judging by effects alone, this spell would be at least expert level and most likely even higher. However, the spell structures were flawed. They appeared surprisingly fragile.
Good to know…
Terry made a mental note to not overshoot with his disruption discharges. If all the spell structures of these fungus-zombies were like this, then weaker and less mana intensive discharges should be sufficient.
The invading army was still trickling into the breached pocket realm, which told Terry all he needed to know about the paramount importance of conserving mana during this battle.
***