Hamilton surprised me. The young and crippled nobleman dipped his head until he stared at his ruined legs. “Apologies, Mr. Netherbane. I committed a mistake.”
I could sense no falsehood in his redress. The target of a System-aided social interaction only received a message if they won the contest. Other specific Traits or rare conditions might grant one such notification, but usually the loser was just “convinced” by the argument of the speaker. But {Capstone} Perks, called “transcendental” by today’s society, didn’t work on someone with the same Perk. But even if few considered rude to use social traits on others, it was still shameful to be caught in the act.
Softening the glare on my two ribbon-eyestalks, I clicked my tongue at him and then let a slight sigh. “Would you be amenable to reschedule this conversation to a later date, my Lord? When we are no longer trapped in the world’s bowels and grieving our lost companions?” I hoped he would take the olive branch.
Isaac smiled magnanimously. “Of course, sir Netherbane.”
The change in honorifics was duly noted. He stared hard at Mrs. Blatherwick who witnessed this exchange in silence. Moments later, he earned a nod from the teacher. My guess was that he told her to keep out of it. But again, I was a mimic and even after reading mom’s biography a couple times, human body language was still odd to me.
I cast a minor cantrip from {House Magic} to levitate and clean the loaves before I deposited them back on the tray. “My Lord, Mrs. Blatherwick, breakfast is served. With the compliments of the house.”
“Many thanks, sir Netherbane,” Isaac didn’t wait for a second offer to grab one and dive in with a huge bite. He spoke while he chewed, “Absolutely divine. Give my regards to Ms. Ambrose.”
In his defense, he was sitting with his back to the girls. I decided to be the bigger tome and let it slide. I gave him a nod with my ribbon-stalks.
“I believe you are addressing the baker, Mr. Hamilton,” the teacher tersely remarked anyway. Probably a small nip of vengeance for the earlier stare down.
He brought a hand to his chest, “My bad. Another debt to my tab then.”
Be the bigger tome. Do not murder the nobleman. I tried to say it with a smile even though the “mouthpiece” was facing the ground. “Think nothing of it, my Lord. As a familiar, my achievements belong to my mistress.”
Isaac grinned and tried to make a hearty laugh but his peals were tainted by his nervousness. He choked on the bread for a moment and then cleared his throat. His next statements were solemn. “Netherbane Syllabus, I owe you my life. And to Miss Ambrose, by extent. I give you my word I’ll never forgive these boons. On my honor.”
“We dare not make little of your honest appreciation, my Lord. However, we did only what any true delver would. Lending aid to our fellow expedition members in time of distress to the best of our abilities is what was expected of us. Regrettably, we failed six of our friends.”
Shock struck the nobleman. While I heard the girls talking, lamenting, and mourning among themselves while I baked, it seems Mrs. Blatherwick spared Isaac the grim outcome of our ordeal. We were separated into three groups. The two surviving satyr women, then Barbara and the two noblewomen, then Hamilton and Blatherwick. The groups were separated by a good amount of crystal, with only the two smallest among us, Barbara and yours truly, able to cross back and forth in the maze of quartz pillars and spikes. Mom would later note that if you added snow and ice, it would look like a miniature version of some “superhero” secret hideout from her world. But I had no idea of that at the time.
Hamilton gave a long, sad, and hard stare at the fruit bread on his hand as if it would hand him the answers the universe denied us, then back at me. His eyes were moist. “I see. Netherbane, I… I…”
The “Lord” mask dropped, revealing the fragile teenager behind it. Isaac’s grief and pain and sadness overflowed and he broke down. No trained demeanor, no cards held close to his chest anymore. Here lied a young man, a child for some more civilized cultures, bearing a burden too heavy for his own good. Even the acrid and stern teacher softened at the sight.
“Two promises, Isaac,” I said as I reached out with a ribbon to clap his shoulder. “The seven of us are seeing daylight yet today. And by tomorrow morning at most you’ll be walking on your own two feet again.”
Bawling, the nobleman nodded. He mumbled something that conveyed his gratitude. Without another word, I lowered the tray on the ground between the two humans and made my way back to Barbara. I found the three females in a very emotional state. The two noblewomen were telling her stories about their deceased friends while Barbara listened and offered her most sympathetic encouragement. Without any warning nor ceremony, I climbed on her lap and made myself comfortable resting against her stomach. Barbara wrapped an arm around my front cover the way someone would hold a book against their torso while running.
The shields withdrew to her dimensional storage, probably to recharge. They deserved some rest after all the work they did.
People in Yznarian grieved their dead but they didn’t linger as long as back in mom’s home world. Death here was a reality of life, not a rare happenstance. Aside from the ordinary reasons for early demise like ordinary crime or famine, the fantastical elements of this world gave birth to more ways to die. Monster attacks, magical mishaps, weird diseases, serial murder to farm Exp, deific catastrophes, among many others contributed to shorten the people’s lives even with System aid. Though the elite could live for centuries, average life expectancy was still in the lower double-digits for the average person.
When I sensed a lull in their conversation, I started my own.
She glanced downward at me.
Her eyes lit up with hope,
We had a lot of students in the Labyrinth. I feared most were dead by now. Anyway, I had to temper her expectations,
She grinned,
She nodded. “Guys, Nethe and I are going to use magic to open up the crystals.”
Level-headed despite her obvious pain, Elizabeth looked down at me. “You have the bodies of our friends, right?”
“They are wrapped in proper mortuary shrouds, my Lady. If you wish, I can relinquish them to you.”
Dismayed, she rubbed a ring on her left hand. “This is a lesser storage ring. I don’t think I have the room.” Implied on her words was her surprise at me of all creatures having a storage large enough for six corpses, one of them a centaur to boot.
“Mimics have a species Perk to store objects. You know, with the proclivity to imitate chests…” I offered.
“Of course,” she smiled coyly. “I appreciate your efforts, Nethe,” she was unsure of how to address me but tried to use the same as Barbara to appear friendly. “Please keep up the good job.”
“Don’t mention it, my Lady. I live to serve,” I finished with the same friendly token. “And don’t be shy. Whatever aid you require, please let me know.”
“You surprised me,” The impulsive and smaller half-human girl tried to join the conversation after watching our exchange in silence. “Your bread was delicious. Is it your recipe?”
“Not at all, my Lady. Although I modified it slightly to make do with the scarce ingredients I had at hand, it is an ancient recipe from the Honorcoin family, from Windemere.”
Elizabeth creased her eyebrows, “The name isn’t strange, although I can’t remember where I heard it. Honrcoins from Windemere…”
“That’s a lost kingdom on Auvanini, isn’t it? The cradle of the Goddess’ church,” Eleanora conjectured.
“Right! Honorcoin is one of the Goddess’ many incarnations!” Elizabeth had an ‘Eureka’ moment. “The Honorcoins were Eleon Halflings!” Then she stared at Barbara with awe, “Are you related to them? A descendant?”
Barbara froze, then went pale. She quickly shook her head, “Not that I know, Lady… Lizzy,” she corrected herself. “But they lived thousands of years ago, before the cataclysm. I wouldn’t dare claim to be the Goddess’ relative, though.” She shot me a quick glare.
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
I knew I could land in big trouble, but I said it anyway.
I half-waited for some sort of tribulation lightning to strike me after I mentioned Fate. With a capital F. When none came, I mentally sighed in relief.
Meanwhile, Barbara was quiet, digesting what I told her. Our empathic bond went both ways. Just as I could sense her feelings, she could sense mine too. She tenderly rubbed the silk of my dust cover, then the fore edge of my pages. I preened under her attention. If I had to explain using human body parts, it was like she was caressing my belly.
she shared.
I measured my words and spoke slowly and carefully, sensing how much I could share.
Relief washed over me. Her last question would allow me to skirt the middle one.
Even underneath the earth, I still felt the skies rumbling. Barbara too felt the displeasure of Fate with my indiscretion.
She shivered and I felt the hairs on her arm stand up.
“Hello? Barbie?” Elizabeth waved her hand in front of her. “Are you okay?”
I cringed at the nickname.
She refocused her eyes on the noblewoman. “Sorry Lizzie. I was talking to Nethe on how we are going to get out of here,” she offered and the other girl seemed convinced. Barbara summoned her staff from the pendant. “I need to cast a few spells; do you want to help me?”
“Hold,” she replied. “Barbara, are you foreign nobility? Are you hidden here?”
She glanced at me.
“Sorry, Lizzie. Windemere was destroyed two thousand years ago. I wouldn’t dare claim to be relatives with their nobility. I’m afraid I’m just a commoner.”
Elizabeth smiled sympathetically. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry, Barbie. I just got excited, I guess,” she apologized bashfully, then misdirected by looking at the crystal jungle above us. “You did something impressive here. You already have a rare specialty, and I’m sure you will become an [Archmage]. That’s as good as Royalty!”
Barbara lowered her head, “Thank you for your kind words, Lizzie. Nethe helped me a lot.”
“You two make a great pair,” Eleanora added. “It makes me envious, to be honest. Next year, I’m going to try to get a special familiar too.”
“That’s great, Elly!” Barbara gushed. “If you need help, Nethe and I are at your service.”
The dour girl smiled. “I’ll hold you to it. That’s a promise!”
Barbara glanced down at me. “Sure,” I said. “It will be our pleasure to be of use, my Lady.”
“Hey!” Elizabeth protested once she felt out of the spotlight. “I want one too!”
“It’s a date!” Barbara promised, and the other girls echoed it back. “Now, let’s get to work!”
She stood up with her staff, and the other two girls took wands out of their storage rings, ready (and eager) to help Barbara make a way out.
*
----------------------------------------
*
“Monsters,” I said out loud.
We left the crystal jungle and hiked for another day. If the entrance hadn’t been blocked, we would exit tomorrow. As expected, the tunnels were clear although they looked even bigger and creepier than before. In some spots, the landslide created connections between close tunnels on different levels. We found more than one hole leading down into the depths. Or shortcuts that could be used to descend faster.
The two surviving guides, the satyr widows were silent. The only moment they talked outside the barebones essential communication was to claim the bounty on the report of the new tunnels. The accountant wife whose name I forgot dutifully updated her maps with the new data. They also asked me to hand over the bodies of their husband and wives once we were out of the Labyrinth, which I dutifully agreed to.
Lord Isaac Hamilton was being carried on the accountant satyr lady’s back. He had hired her to do it, paying up front from his storage ring.
Now we were facing a blocked section of the tunnel, and I used {Detect} to sense which creatures were trapped inside. Sturdy spiderdillos, which were exactly what their namesake hinted at. A crossbreed between spiders and armadillos, tough creatures capable of crawling on walls and ceilings, shoot webs, and deliver poisonous bites. They had an armadillo snout with spider eyes and a bloated segmented torso. Their eight long legs could be tucked on their sides to allow them to curl into a cylinder and roll along at great speeds. Rows of curved spines with tough hairs along their segmented plates allowed them to grip on almost any surface while they rolled. Including people. One tactic the largest ones (they could grow to be over ten meters tall, legs and all) liked to use was to roll over smaller delvers and snatch them on the spines, taking them on the joyride of their lives. Which ended awfully shortly after they became a smear on the tunnels of the Labyrinth. Vicious little devils.
They weren’t rare but the Core of a large, evolved spiderdillo was. One was trapped under the rocks, wounded and slowly dying. Obviously, I wanted to add them to my summon collection.
“Wait here, I’m going inside to kill it,” I announced as I leaped out of Barbara’s arms and shot my ribbons out from between my pages to crawl under the rocks.
“Stay safe, Nethe!” Barbara wished me well as she waved at me.
“Don’t worry, my lady. I’ll be back shortly.
I crawled inside the crevices between the boulders, using a {Mold Rock} spell whenever I needed a bit more room. I found lots of dead smaller spiderdillos who apparently didn’t go peacefully. Since they would need all the help possible, I harvested whatever could be useful for the satyr women. It was also a bribe so they would keep silent about our little altercation before Bit’s shrine. Eventually, I reached the big one.
It was on its last legs, both metaphorically and physically. It only had two, on the same side. It’s carapace was cracked and its abdomen crushed by a rather pointy boulder. It was one of the twelve-meter variant, big enough to swallow Barbara in a single bite.
* Level 58 female Spiderdillo Broodmother
I felt a spiritual tug and remembered to check. One of my {Four-Leaf Clover} daily uses was spent.
The Spiderdillo Broodmother squirmed as she sensed my killing intent. It caused the rocks to rumble and dislodged some silk, dust, and small debris in a rain around us. It also accelerated its demise. I finished its misery by skewering it with mom’s favorite spell and used the {Force Tongs} to carefully remove the Core, poison glands, and a handful of armor plates that were salvageable. I got almost no Exp as the System considered it a cheese kill.
* [Spiderdillo Broodmother’s Core] (Rare) – Level 58
* Value: 48 gold coins.
* [Spiderdillo Broodmother’s Poison Gland] x2
* Value: 6 gold coins (each).
* [Spiderdillo Broodmother’s Armor Plate] x4
* Value: 9 gold coins (each).
* You have a new Summon:
* Spiderdillo Broodmother (2nd Rank)
I quickly slotted the monster into a free summon slot. The satyrs would have to be content with the fifty-odd gold coin worth of loot. The System value of the Poison was lower than its actual market value because poison in itself was a quirky commodity loaded with problems but this poison was rather troublesome for flesh beings. The armor plates were so valuable because they were huge, resilient, and rather thin. With the four I took one could roof a small house.
{Mold Rock} was a common albeit slow and MP heavy spell. The casters acted in concert, joining their spells with Barbara as the leader to make use of her {Earth Magic Affinity}. In half an hour, they bore a tunnel through the boulders and we found ourselves on the other side of the debris, on our way to freedom.
What awaited us on the surface was more grief.
*
----------------------------------------
*
The tremors weren’t limited only to the Labyrinth. Neither of the deities I sensed had anything closely related to underground or cavern. On the surface, instead of landslides, they had a proper earthquake. The keep around the Labyrinth entrance was half-ruined, and no guard was at the entrance to greet us. I could see the days-old bloodstains on the ruined walls where people died crushed by the debris. I pinged around and found the whole keep deserted. Then I extended my senses and searched for corpses. I found a dozen dead horses rotting in a stable that was blocked by debris and a few people corpses. A veritable swarm of rodents had picked all the bodies clean of any meat.
Mrs. Blatherwick removed a medallion from her pocket. On its lid one could recognize the Academy insignia. “I’m going to contact the Academy staff and report we are alive.”
The rodents heard her and squeaked, a cacophony of sharp voices. Hungry voices.
“We got incoming!” I hollered. “Battle stations!”
Startled, the students didn’t react at first. The two satyr women drew their weapons, short sword and dagger while Barbara’s shields winked into existence around her, ready to defend their mistress. I deployed a {Canvas} around us, a short wall with an outward-slanted lip meant to keep the rodents from climbing over.
Then the swarm came for the people’s flesh.
“Pick a direction and defend! {Fire Wall},” Isaac shouted. A quarter-circle of fire appeared half a meter away from my canvas. The flames fanned outward as the spell carried a hint of Air element. Almost no heat came our way, and most of it was infrared irradiation.
“{Crystal Spikes},” chanted Barbara as she tossed a chunk of smoky quartz from the jungle she created. We harvested choice bits of the material for ourselves. The chunk shattered near the ground and shot in a outward nova before suddenly growing into sharp spines, covering another quarter of the circle in a deadly trap.
“{Cloying Fog},” Eleanora casted. A billowing fog covered the opposite side from Isaac’s fire in a dense mist that rose to her knees and blocked sight of the ruined courtyard underneath it. On its left side it touched Barbara’s spikes. From what I could sense, it would be harmful or even poisonous to whoever breathed it. I was certain she limited it to knee-height to keep us safe from it. The spell was intended to be used against people and large monsters. The fog also didn’t move much from its designed location.
“{Lightning Ne...} eeek!” Elizabeth fumbled and failed her spell as she shrieked at the sight of hundreds of nasty dire rodents coming our way. Her lost focus caused the spell to fizzle and created a large arc of lightning that shoot from her elbows forward past her stretched arms, carving Lichtenberg scars on her forearms and hands. It jumped to one of the satyr widows and shocked her, sending the poor woman convulsing as she stumbled into the canvas barrier and folded over her belly. Elizabeth fell on her knees, wailing in pain, with her singed arms held high. The wild lightning dispelled part of Isaac’s fire and Eleanora’s fog before it arched ahead as jumping bolts over the courtyard. It reached the front of the wild swarm and killed a few rodents but the rest just climbed over their dead brethren.
A stray jolt struck Mrs. Blatherwick's medallion and the teacher had to devote her entire focus to keep the shoddy (from my perspective) artifact from sending her into Resonance Shock. Her rings, robes, and other enchanted objects were reacting to one another and the foreign magic from Eizabeth, pushing her Resonance Tolerance to the limit. None had the safeguards mom imbues her items with.
Of the three defensive spells in place, Barbara's was the only that required no concentration to maintain, albeit at a loss of adaptability. She was free to look behind her at the exposed flank and cried out of sympathy for her new friend's self-imposed wounds. Her sight of the swarm was blocked by the wall that reached her neck.
"Nethe, heal her," she half-requested, half-ordered. "I'll cover the other flank."
I could only reply with the empathic equivalent of a nod.