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Chapter 18

Four stone caskets framed the room, filling each of the four corners. They were all closed and covered in a thick layer of dark dust. Right in the center of the room was an ornate sarcophagus that looked big enough to fit three or four people inside. Faded images of warriors were carved through the sloped top with two spiraled points on each end.

The checkerboard marble floor was coated with dust, muting most of the color. Owin walked over the fallen door and caught a strong whiff of the musty, damp air that had been trapped inside.

“What are undead?”

“I don’t know too much. Different from specters. Weak to luminous damage. They are basically mobs that come back from the dead.”

“Could the ogres become undead?”

Artivan looked at the ogre’s corpse calmly lying right outside the door. “Yes.”

“I don’t have luminous damage.”

“Any damage will still work on undead. Just hit them hard enough.”

Owin lifted the hammer with one hand. “I can do that.”

“I would hope so with that strength.” Artivan shoved the top of a nearby casket, causing the stone to grind as it slowly slid, revealing a decaying corpse inside.

“Undead?”

“Currently just dead.” He reached inside and pulled out a gold necklace. “We don’t want to miss any loot. And if this corpse comes back, it should be easy.”

Owin approached the casket directly opposite Artivan's. The lid was four feet off the ground, which was about a foot above Owin’s head. Pushing a lid off at that angle just didn’t really work.

He swung the hammer down, shattering the lid. Pieces crumbled into the casket, but did nothing to help Owin see inside. Artivan sighed, walked over, reached inside, and pulled out a diamond, which he handed to Owin.

“You could just ask for help.”

Owin tried standing on his toes to see inside. He could have climbed on top, but that somehow felt worse than letting Artivan loot the casket for him.

Stone grinded on stone across the room as the lids of the other two caskets moved on their own. They fell off, cracking the marble floor.

“Ah, there they are,” Artivan said.

Owin dropped the diamond into his bag without taking a closer look. It wouldn’t do much until he could sell it anyway. Instead, he prepared both weapons and watched the desiccated corpse rise from the casket. It looked as if it required an extreme amount of effort for it to grab onto the sides as it hauled itself out. It was thin with little to no muscle, basically sinew, skin, and bones.

Great Forest Mob

Decayed Human

Level 22

“Level 22?” Owin asked.

Both decayed moved slowly as they found their footing outside their caskets. The one on the right dragged a leg, while the one in front of Owin had a jaw that hung loose, showing a shriveled tongue as the decayed constantly moaned.

“The levels will barely matter to us, as long as they are decayed.”

“Are there other undead?”

“I don’t know much. I know there are skeletons and liches. I’ve never seen one. I don’t quite know how an undead would cast Power 7 spells. Not our concern.” Artivan calmly walked around the center ornate sarcophagus and faced the decayed undead. “Good practice. Easy experience.”

Owin walked over and swung the Thunderstrike Maul horizontally as hard as possible. The decayed’s hips shattered. Its whole body went limp as it was thrown right into the wall.

“Oh.”

Artivan beheaded his opponent and looked over. “Wow.”

The decayed slowly tried standing. It clawed at the wall with no fingertips, scraping its bones on the stone. Owin brought the hammer down on its head.

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“I thought that first hit would kill it.”

“Undead can live through a lot. The head is usually the easiest.”

Owin kicked the corpse, but no loot fell out. “I thought you said you didn’t know much about undead.”

“They are probably the mobs I have fought the least. It doesn’t mean I don’t know some things. I have been at this for quite some time.”

The central sarcophagus shuddered.

“That’s what I was concerned about.” Artivan inched closer. “Charge your hammer.”

Swinging the hammer back and forth, and even spinning, was significantly easier with the raised strength. He put Naxile’s knife back in his belt. Despite what Artivan had said, he wouldn’t need to switch weapons in these closer quarters. Balance was still an issue as Owin started spinning a little too fast.

The top of the sarcophagus grinded as it slid to the side, revealing a much more intact undead creature with scales. It roared as it climbed out, spitting fleshy bits onto the dust-covered floor.

Owin spun, watching the hammer glow brighter and brighter. His foot caught one of the fleshy bits and slipped. The hammer flew right from his hands, cleaving straight through the undead. It shot across the room, embedding itself in the opposite wall. Stone exploded out from the impact and dust showered from above.

Artivan stood with his arms hanging. His winged sword tip rested on the marble floor. “Every fight we find ourselves in, I become less concerned about the heroes hunting you.”

Owin, who had fallen onto the floor when he slipped, sat upright. The undead’s head had landed beside him. It was a scaltari without eyes and it smelled worse than an ogre’s breath.

“That was an accident,” Owin said.

“Yeah.” Artivan sheathed his sword, walked over to the hammer, and yanked it out of the wall. It had gone right through the crypt wall and lodged itself into the stone wall of the cave. “Imagine what you will do once you can balance.”

Owin took the Thunderstrike Maul back from Artivan. “This seems too strong.”

“It is a powerful weapon. I think you will find it will lose most of its value on higher floors, but down here, it is invaluable.” Artivan nodded to what was left of the scaltari undead. “Did you check it for loot?”

Owin kicked the head. A few dungeon gold pieces fell out. He handed them to Artivan, who reluctantly put them in his bag.

“You can keep anything you find,” he said.

“I want to share.”

Artivan nodded, face hidden behind the helmet. “I assume this room was meant to be far more difficult. Shortcuts generally have some type of trap or powerful enemy.”

Owin hurried over to the stone door on the opposite end of the room. It took a little effort, even with his raised strength, to push it open. It scratched the marble floor as it slid open.

Torches burned in a hallway beyond. Row after row of shelves with boxes covered both walls, except in the center where another sarcophagus sat with the image of a scaltari holding a greatsword carved on top.

“Maybe this room wasn’t meant to be difficult. The crypt keeps going.” Owin took a few steps into the hallway, allowing Artivan room. There was no doubt there would be more undead. The sarcophagus was too clear of a trap. Owin knew he needed to raise his intelligence to get more mana points, and maybe to problem solve a little better, but some things were overly obvious.

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“This hallway wouldn’t be a boss room. The gods like to create arenas for those situations.”

“Wouldn’t it have been easier to go back the way we came into the cave?” Owin asked. Artivan kept calling the crypt a shortcut, but it was going to take longer than walking through a forest if they had to fight undead in every room.

“We would have had to find a way through the acid.” He touched one of the torches with his gauntlet, even waving his hand through the fire. “Plus, I am one or two kills from level 32.”

“I can let you fight the next ones.”

“There will be plenty of fighting ahead. Fight whatever you find.” Artivan pointed his sword at the sarcophagus. “That one will have an undead.”

“It feels obvious.” Owin held the hammer up with both hands and walked over to the sarcophagus. If he just smashed it, it would also kill the undead inside.

The ceiling cracked. Owin looked up as a few pebbles bounced off his hair, which was still plastered to his head with viscera. The stone ceiling of the hallway had a massive web of cracks spread right above him.

“Is that bad?” Owin asked.

The stone shattered, dropping a huge scaltari corpse right on top of Owin. He was flattened by the heavy, decaying body. At the same time, the top of the sarcophagus slid off and fell, landing heavily beside Owin.

The scaltari corpse moaned, exhaling fishy breath into Owin’s face.

Great Forest Mob

Decayed Scaltari

Level 23

Owin pushed the corpse off, but found the hallway too small. The other undead climbed out of the sarcophagus and fell onto Owin’s arm, pinning the arm and hammer to the ground.

“Knife,” Artivan said. He was already approaching with his sword ready.

“I get it now,” Owin said.

The winged blade easily decapitated both undead in a swift series of precise swings. Artivan grabbed Owin’s arm and pulled him back to his feet.

“Looks like I needed three more kills.”

“That undead was in the ceiling.”

Artivan looked at the hole it had fallen through. There was nothing but dirt above. “A joke trap, apparently. It did work.”

“I noticed.” He shook his head again, spraying some more ogre bits around the hallway. Everything that hit Artivan seemed to slide right off his armor. “Why are hobgoblins living by a crypt?”

“So much of the area is meant to be ruins. I assume this is deep into those ruins. I’ve never ventured through the whole hobgoblin town before.” Artivan looked around the hall, specifically focusing on the odd box shelves along the walls. “I suggest we hurry to find the hobgoblins. I would rather fight them than some of these mobs.”

Each box, all down the wall, on every level of every shelf held a skull. Some were bleached white bones, while others were near-fresh heads, eyes and all. It would have been discomforting no matter what, with the sheer number of heads.

What made it worse were all the eyes tracking Owin.

“All the undead are dying really easily,” Owin said.

Artivan tightened his gauntlet straps and rolled his shoulders. “It isn’t the difficulty that’s bothering me. The areas like this, the areas that don’t match the theme of the floor are unpredictable. And undead are . . . disgusting.”

“I thought only the secret areas had other mobs.” Owin stared at a skull, which he swore smiled.

“There are secondary areas. Alternate paths on the bigger floors.”

A clean skull near Artivan chattered. The noise spread down both ends of the hallway until the entire room was filled with the horrible noise of chattering teeth. Stone grinded loudly against stone in the next room. The floor shook as stone lids fell to the floor, crashing loudly when they landed.

“Artivan, what’s happening?” Owin asked, having to yell to be heard over the skulls.

He shook his head and backed into the empty sarcophagus. “A trap.”

“We can handle it.” Owin walked over, grabbed a skull at eye level, and used Examine.

Great Forest Mob

Decayed Skull

Level 10

He crushed it in his hand. The bits of bone fell to the ground. “They can’t be that strong.”

A taupe flash from Artivan lit up the hallway, quieting the skulls for a brief second. “Owin, stay on guard. This isn’t over.” He kept his eyes fixed on the door at the end of the hall, leading to the next room.

“What is it?”

“Whatever Ruvaine has prepared for us in the next room is dangerous.” Artivan finished checking the straps of his armor and drew his winged sword.

Owin couldn’t imagine putting away and drawing a weapon so many times. Not that he had much of an option. The Thunderstrike Maul didn’t have a holder or much of a way to be held other than by resting uncomfortably on his shoulder.

“Let me go first,” Owin said.

Artivan gestured to the door. Owin walked past the skulls, ignoring their chattering and all the eyes watching him. Other than opening and closing their jaws, it didn’t seem like the skulls could do all that much.

Owin stopped beside Artivan and looked up at the knight. The helmet looked back down, with no sign of Artivan’s face. “It could be fun.”

“You’re getting confident. Don’t become cocky.”

Owin slid the stone door open and immediately dove to the side as a rusted sword swung through the opening. It cracked on the stone floor, sending up a small shower of sparks.

Great Forest Mob

Skeleton Berserker

Level 24

The skeleton’s bones rattled as it stepped through the doorway. Artivan took a step backward and hunkered behind his shield. Owin steadied himself and lifted the hammer.

What was Artivan so rattled about? The skeleton was hardly dangerous. They weren’t much different from Nosolus’s minions on the second floor.

Owin swung as hard as he could, catching the skeleton in the pelvis. The bones disconnected from one another as the hammer launched the pelvis through the doorway. The skeleton’s jaw continued moving as it tried to bite at Owin, but it could hardly move on its own.

“Don’t look around the—”

An arrow flew through the doorway, pinging against Artivan’s shield. He took a few quick steps before hunkering down again. A spell that looked like gray mist splashed against his shield, followed by another arrow that pinged harmlessly off the metal.

“What’s in there?” Owin punted the skull as it snapped at his feet again. It crashed into the shelves, shattering against another skull.

0 Experience

0 Experience

“Minor Lich.” Artivan didn’t manage to say more before spells barraged his shield.

Owin tried to sneak to the edge of the doorway, wanting to peek inside. If he could see even part of the mob, he would be able to use Examine.

“Stay back!”

“Are you okay?”

Artivan gave a single nod, still working his way forward. Each spell halted his movement. It looked harmless as it spread over his shield, but Owin had never looked closer at the shield. The rest of Artivan’s equipment was magical. The shield probably was too.

“I haven’t fought a lich,” Artivan said. His grip tightened on the winged sword. “I lost a dear friend to a lich.”

A bright green light shot past Artivan. It wasn’t even close to hitting him. He didn’t look, keeping his attention entirely focused on the creature before him. Only Owin saw the light shoot into a hundred different pieces that zapped into all the undead in the hallway, including all of the skulls.

“His wife watched his body become a vessel for the monster,” Artivan continued as he inched his way to the door. Whatever spells the lich used were ineffective against Artivan’s shield. He was making steady progress, but Owin kept his gaze behind the knight where every skull on the shelves rolled off. Some shattered on the marble floor, but those that lived rolled to the center where the green light still shone.

“Artivan, the skulls are doing something.”

“You’re going to have to handle it. I can’t turn away from this.” A heavier spell smashed into the shield, causing Artivan to slide back about a foot.

The skulls moved unnaturally, piling together to create a humanoid shape, starting with the legs. It didn’t matter if they were bone or flesh as they seemed to fuse together with the green light.

Great Forest Mob

Skull Golem

Level 25

“What’s a skull golem?” Owin asked.

“I have no idea. Is that what’s happening behind me?”

The green light shone brightly, casting Artivan’s shadow through the doorway. The golem wasn’t finished forming, but it wouldn’t take much longer. To get to it, Owin would have to find a way past Artivan.

“Yes.”

The last skull floated up and fit into place right at the top of the monstrosity. It was about eight feet tall and had a general humanoid shape with every part made from skulls. The green light poured out of the empty eye sockets and the open mouths of each skull.

Another spell shot through the doorway, hitting Artivan hard enough to push him back. The knight kept his footing and immediately pressed forward again, but it wasn’t enough. The lich was easily pushing him toward the golem.

“Let me handle the lich,” Owin said.

“No.”

“Turn and fight that golem or it will crush you. I’m getting the lich.” Owin didn’t wait for an answer. Artivan was inches from the golem and needed to fight. The old knight would know what to do. Owin was sure Artivan could figure it out.

A skeletal archer stepped through the doorway before Owin could turn. He smashed it with the hammer, causing bones to fly across the room. Owin ran around the corner, through the doorway. A gray spell that looked like mist passed right above his head.

The lich floated about a foot off the ground. It wore a long, flowing robe that extended past its feet and seemed to billow in a nonexistent wind. It held a magical staff made of wood, though the top looked like five skeletal fingers extending upward.

Bright red eyes locked onto Owin’s. The lich had no skin on its face. Just red eyes in a yellowed skull. Thick, greasy strands of hair hung from the lich, also moving in the invisible breeze.

Great Forest Mob

Minor Lich

Level 28

Owin grabbed the wand and cast Bolt three times. Each spell hit the lich, but the boss didn’t react. Owin slid the wand back into his belt and dove to the side as a mist-like spell struck just where he had been standing.

“Give in,” the lich said. Its voice was ethereal, not coming from the being itself.

“Owin!”

“I’m okay.” He lifted the hammer as another spell shot from the lich’s fingertips. It hit the Thunderstrike Maul and spread out until it dissipated.

Stone shattered in the hall. A puff of dust passed into the room. Artivan stumbled back with a section of his shield gone, as if it had simply broken off. The skull golem walked through the doorway, shattering the stone wall around the door so it could fit.

Gray, almost blue mist spread into Owin’s view, like it was inside his eyes. A cool breeze washed over him. His muscles relaxed. Everything was calm.

“Owin!” Artivan ducked under a wide, horizontal swing from the golem. The monster hit a stone column, which exploded into dust upon impact.

Owin had been distracted, and the lich took control.