“There are ogres guarding the stairs. We need to go now to deal with them before the other heroes arrive. I know it feels odd to leave a whole room unchecked, but I’m not going to risk your life for gold,” Artivan said.
“Are you sure? It could be another weapon.”
“Owin, they can see exactly where you are on their maps. We need to move now. I’m glad you aren’t scared anymore. I really am. But look at me.” Artivan’s eyes were red as he stared right into Owin’s. “I am slowing down. I’m tired. All of those specters damaged my mana. Those heroes are more dangerous now than they were before.”
“Okay.”
“We’re running the whole way. Ready?”
Owin adjusted his belt, making sure all three knives sat in it fine. He let the heavy Thunderstrike Maul rest on his shoulder. “How far?”
“I don’t remember. It’s a long floor, but we’ve already crossed most of the ground. If they start fighting us on the way, I want you to keep running for the door. You’re their target.” Artivan didn’t wait for another word. He turned and bolted through the hall, past the double door, and into the room beyond.
Owin easily kept pace, taking huge strides for his little legs. Artivan ran right through the wight’s room and opened the drawbridge using his halo ability. It slowly lowered while the metal gate lifted, creaking the whole way.
Artivan ducked under the metal gate before it was fully raised, running up the slanted drawbridge still in the process of lowering. He jumped off, landed heavily, and paused until Owin landed right beside him.
“Straight north. The cave entrance is right beside the boundary. You won’t be able to miss it.”
“We’re staying together.”
“For now.” Artivan patted Owin’s head once, then took off, following the moat back around the castle and continuing north into the birch forest.
The atmosphere was different at night. Instead of a bright, lively forest, it was a haunting place. Sounds echoed through the woods, including Artivan’s footsteps. What made it worse was knowing an umbra would be one of the heroes hunting them down. There were so many spots someone could be hiding in the woods.
Owin flew through the forest, sticking to Artivan’s flank. The old man ran faster than Owin had seen him move before, taking monstrous strides. Each step pounded heavily on the ground, shaking the dirt as he pushed off.
“Are we going to fight the ogres?” Owin asked.
“We will have to. The cave is tight. You could sneak past, I suppose.” Artivan kept his eyes focused ahead. White trees flew past. Artivan didn’t hesitate to plow right through bushes and shrubs, fully destroying the small plants.
“I won’t let you fight ogres alone.”
“Then we will want to be quick.” Artivan glanced back. He skidded, throwing dirt into the air. A magical green arrow flew through the night and bounced off his shield, quietly pinging as it disappeared into the forest.
“The umbra?” Owin asked.
“Keep running.”
“Not without you.”
In the dark, Owin almost missed the hazy form of a sword passing through the air. He dropped the hammer and drew Naxile’s knife just in time to block. Placus, the umbra, formed right beside Owin, tossing him back from the blow.
Artivan picked up the Thunderstrike Maul. “I guess you chose death.”
Placus slid his hand over his blade, leaving a trail of purple fire on the shortsword. “In the name of Veph, for Void Nexus.”
Artivan spat on the ground. “Scum, all of you.”
Owin grabbed his new bone knife in his other hand and positioned himself in Artivan’s shadow. Other forms, no more than silhouettes at the moment, were approaching through the woods. Five more people approached, which meant it was more than Nikoletta and Miklos.
“That’s too many,” Artivan whispered.
“Placus is trying to slow us down.”
Artivan pointed at the umbra, who stood with an undeserved smirk on his face. “Flare Burst.”
Luminous fire consumed the umbra, who screamed and flailed immediately. Artivan grabbed Owin and shoved him forward.
“As fast as you can. Don’t stop until you’re inside the cave!”
Owin took two steps, stopped to see if Artivan was also running, then continued. His index flashed open and immediately flipped to the map. In the dark, less of the map was revealed at a time, but it still helped to stay going straight north.
“You think a hog can save you?” the familiar voice of Siora shouted through the woods.
“Ignore her,” Artivan said, running behind.
Owin ducked and swung with Naxile’s knife in a wide arc as Placus reappeared a few steps away. The umbra leapt over the low swing, slashing down with his fiery blade. Artivan barreled over Owin, smashing his shield right into the umbra’s face. Artivan caught the swing on his armor, letting the blade scrape down his arm.
Placus flew back, letting go of his sword, and landed heavily on his back. Owin moved to leap onto the umbra, but other people already appeared nearby. An arrow flew just off target, barely missing Owin. He hadn’t even noticed a hunter just a few feet behind Placus.
Artivan lunged forward and blocked an arrow from hitting Owin. “We can’t fight this many in the open. We’re almost there. Keep moving.”
Placus was slow getting back to his feet with his skin burned and bleeding. But the umbra still continued his chase.
Artivan ran directly behind Owin, letting his armor take a few arrows from the hunter. Owin kept his map up, letting it be his guide to the cave. The edge only barely appeared when the commotion behind grew significantly louder. Owin spared one glance back and saw the burning golden light of Nikoletta’s mace. It shone on her face, over her bald head.
Hero
Nikoletta Olah
Mender
Level: 20
Strength: 140
Constitution: 112
Dexterity: 78
Intelligence: 84
Wisdom: 200
Charisma: 76
She had leveled up significantly since they had last seen each other. Owin turned around and focused entirely on running. Artivan was right. Fighting in the open when they were outnumbered wasn’t going to do them any favors. They needed to get inside where they could use the close quarters to their advantage.
Metal clashed right behind Owin. He only looked over his shoulder as some other hero pushed against Artivan’s shield. The old knight swung the Thunderstrike Maul, smashing the hero in the leg.
“Go, Miklos,” Nikoletta shouted.
The berserker appeared almost instantly, bursting through the dark as if launched. Artivan tensed as Miklos slammed into his shield, throwing the knight onto his back.
Owin slid, turned, and leapt right at Miklos. The berserker had raised his axe high, ready to chop down. Owin slipped underneath the axe and drove Naxile’s knife right into Miklos’s shoulder, spraying blood across their faces.
The berserker ripped Owin off, who tore the knife across as much skin as he fell to the ground. Artivan pulled Owin right back to his feet, just in time to face all five humans. Nikoletta pushed her way through, golden mace lighting up the area. The color was harsh and shone brightly off the white trees. The other humans seemed to follow Nikoletta, watching as she eyed Artivan.
“You’re still with the freak?” she asked.
“Fighting him means fighting me.”
Nikoletta smirked. “Looks like you’re already hurt, old man. These two got a personal vendetta against you too now after killing their party back at the hobgoblin village. Just like the beast killed our Kata.”
“At least she died quietly,” Owin said.
Artivan nudged Owin, shushing him as Nikoletta’s face contorted into a scowl.
“We’re going to have fun with this.” She reached over, gently tapping her fingers against Miklos. The gash across his shoulder sealed, causing him to grunt. It left a splatter of blood over his skin and clothes.
Artivan looked the soldier in the eye. She looked a little older than Nikoletta with long black hair. Her arms, from what was uncovered, were sculpted with muscle. She stood awkwardly, taking weight off the knee Artivan had struck.
“You don’t need to do this. He’s a hero, like us,” Artivan said.
“He’s nothing like us,” Siora said. “Don’t think an old hog like this knows a thing. He’d protect a rat from an exterminator.”
“A goblin’s a goblin,” the soldier said.
“Aye,” the hunter confirmed. His eager fingers played with the bowstring. He hadn’t stopped staring at Owin.
“I’ve only protected myself,” Owin shouted. “I didn’t do anything to any of you!”
The hunter raised an eyebrow. “I’d be standing here even if you were human. Too big a bounty to ignore.”
“A bounty?”
“The chalice didn’t just ping them. They choose an adept item if they kill you.” Artivan flashed white, causing the ground to quake. “I should have told you. I should have drank it.”
“Your abilities don’t protect that bare head of yours,” Siora said, grinning. She drew her glowing sword and pulled her shield from her back. Both soldiers held the flanks with Nikoletta, Miklos, and the hunter in the center.
“Where’s the umbra?” Owin turned as purple fire flashed across the umbra’s blade. He blocked with both blades, easily catching the attack. The fire burst off the blade and washed over Owin’s face, burning across his skin just like the gray mist.
A solid thunk shook the ground as the umbra collapsed, quickly followed by a spray of blood across Owin’s face. He wiped the blood away and caught a quick glimpse of the umbra’s collapsed face. He was alive, but both cheeks appeared broken with blood pouring from a shattered nose.
Artivan held the Thunderstrike Maul with umbra blood splattered on the front of the hammer. “Cheap tricks won’t get you far.”
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
“What do you know about getting far?” Siora said, finally stepping past Nikoletta. She spun her sword with a practiced flourish, throwing light around the clearing. “It took you sixty years to get to level thirty. A joke.”
“What’s it say about the Void if a sixty year old can win a four on two fight?” Artivan shifted his feet, shaking the ground with each movement. “Owin.” He barely shook the hammer.
Owin put both knives in his belt and caught the hammer as Artivan tossed it to the side. He immediately drew the Winged Sword of the Swift Behemoth. Siora eyed the sword cautiously, taking a half step back.
“Placus, you idiot. Get up.”
The umbra groaned and coughed blood onto the grass.
“You should have taken the opening he made,” Artivan said.
“There was no opening. We know how to fight a knight,” Miklos said.
“Do you?” Artivan pointed the winged sword at Nikoletta. “Prove it.”
The hammer was about half charged. Too much movement at the moment would draw attention to Owin, which he didn’t need. Charging during combat was the only real option. Artivan was doing a good job creating an opening for Owin to flee, but he had to know it wouldn’t happen.
“You’re confident for someone so injured,” Miklos said. He ran his hand over the blade of his axe. “I think it’s time to show you who we are.”
Artivan nodded, causing the halo to bob above his head. “You think I’m without headgear? What is this?”
There was no way they could Examine the halo while it was equipped. Artivan was tricking them, causing them to think more before acting. Everything he did, he did to confuse his opponents. It was all so easy for him, so effortless while Owin didn’t even know what to say.
Owin had been wrong. Terribly wrong. There was no reason to be confident. Owin was once again terrified. Even with the umbra bleeding behind him, he faced unfair odds, which put Artivan in mortal danger. Again.
Owin had to prove his worth with strength. Only strength. But how when everyone was stronger than him?
Miklos flashed red and lunged with a wide, overhead chop aimed right between Owin’s eyes. Owin was already slipping to the side, easily out of the way of the attack. From the side, Artivan took a heavy step and swung the winged sword. It flashed, using the weapon’s last charge of the day, adding Artivan’s weight to the swing.
“Fortification!” Nikoletta shouted, lifting her glowing mace in the air. A burst erupted off her, touching only her allies in the area.
Miklos aborted his swing and brought his axe around, barely catching the edge of Artivan’s sword. The Winged Sword of the Swift Behemoth carved right through the corner of Miklos’s axe and caught the berserker's shoulder. It tore like a blunt weapon through the skin, ripping rather than slicing through skin, sinew, and bone.
The berserker was still standing when the sword stopped, lodged part way into Miklos’s ribs. He grinned as his eyes flashed red. Muscles all around his body bulged. Veins rose to the surface. A whole new stream of blood shot from the horrible wounds across his shoulder. Miklos tilted his head back and roared.
“Run!” Artivan shouted. He tore the blade out and raised his shield, clearly expecting an immediate attack.
An arrow hit Owin in the shoulder, easily passing right through his thin body. It took a chunk of health with it, but it was so quick he had hardly noticed the attack. Siora and the other soldier rounded on Owin, lifting weapons high.
He bolted, looking back to see Artivan running as fast as possible. His Ironclad Stance had vanished, letting him run on light feet, at least in comparison.
Siora flew past the other soldier and stabbed at Owin. Even while running, he felt instincts kick in. The blade hummed as it passed by his ear, barely missing. She pulled it to the side, searing the skin on the edge of Owin’s long ear. He gritted his teeth and leapt, kicking up a spray of dirt into the soldiers’ faces.
Artivan let the hunter batter him with arrows, taking most of the hits off his armor. As the cave neared, Artivan shifted to the side, slamming Siora off course. She lost her footing and slammed against a birch tree, sending leaves cascading onto the forest floor.
Miklos was farther behind, having been healed by Nikoletta. The two heroes stalked toward them, toward the cave, with evil in their eyes. Nikoletta’s shone gold while Miklos’s were like burning fires of red.
Owin slid around the mouth of the cave and almost ended up head first in a pool of bright green acid. He pressed his free hand into the ground to stop his slide, then hopped over. Acid flowed from deep inside the cave, quickly making its way to the hazy boundary wall just beyond the cave entrance.
Artivan barreled past, crashing into the wall. He narrowly avoided stepping in the acid and pushed himself off the wall.
An ogre roared loudly. The mouth of the cave was narrow enough that the huge ogre blocked the entire path inside. Artivan was right. Owin could easily run underneath and scurry away like a little rat. But he would never leave Artivan alone to face all the bloodthirsty heroes.
Artivan adjusted the winged blade in his hand. “Quickly,” he said.
Before Artivan was done talking, Owin was already in the air. He slammed the hammer down on the ogre’s head, cracking its skull even under the thick, armor-like skin. Owin clung to its head, dropped the Thunderstrike Maul, and pulled out knives. He drove them into the ogre’s eyes and leapt off as the mob wobbled.
Artivan grabbed the hammer, even as he blocked attacks from the other heroes. He was bleeding from somewhere underneath his armor again, but he quickly maneuvered over the ogre’s corpse.
“Get to the stairs,” Artivan said.
The other ogre, deeper inside the cave, roared and charged. The cave was long and narrow, with the other ogre deeper inside by a glowing pool of acid. Artivan guided Owin to the right, over a small stream of acid and into a small cove that wound toward the stairs, barely on the edge of his map.
A stone arrow caught Artivan in the shoulder, throwing him into the wall. He bounced off, mostly unharmed and faced the incoming heroes. He rolled his shoulders and took up as much of the cave as he could. He dropped the Thunderstrike Maul behind him.
“Go,” Artivan said.
“Not without you.”
“Dammit, Owin.”
Placus was the first to engage again. The umbra was badly scarred but still moved fluidly. Apparently, he hadn’t learned from earlier. He easily slipped past Artivan’s blockade and struck at Owin. Luckily, Owin had been ready for some desperate attack and was already swinging the Thunderstrike Maul.
It wasn’t charged to 100%, but his strength still carried the heavy hammer with incredible speed. It caught Placus on the wrist and immediately shattered bone, throwing the umbra’s weapon into the cave wall.
Arrows pinged on Artivan’s shield as the other heroes arrived. Miklos, the berserker, charged away, shouting something as he went to stop the ogre from flanking.
Siora, with her face all scarred and torn apart, followed right behind Nikoletta.
“Beast,” Nikoletta said.
Artivan’s index flashed before his eyes. He took a step back, giving the mouth of the small area to the other heroes.
“Back up toward the stairs. Run,” Artivan said, turning his back to Placus.
The umbra lashed out, striking Artivan with something that hardly made the knight react.
It was only a dozen feet into a narrow passageway. The black void of the exit was a hundred feet away, with the stairs leading to the fifth floor beside it in the corner. It was all so close.
Artivan stopped in the narrow passage and stomped his foot down. “Bulwark!”
The cave rumbled. Stone cracked around Artivan’s feet as his shield flashed yellow. It pulsed with energy, causing the walls to shake. Artivan thrust his shield forward just as a bright yellow barrier erupted. It rapidly grew, filling every little open space in front of Artivan until the whole passageway was blocked.
Nikoletta pounded her mace on the shield, causing energy to ripple through the spell. She growled and shouted insults, but failed to break Artivan’s spell.
“What is that?”
“Bulwark. A knight’s last resort.” He turned. Blood ran from his eyes like tears.
“What happened?”
“I’m fine,” Artivan said, grunting slightly as Siora’s glowing sword slammed into the barrier.
“I told you the Nimble Hog is a coward!”
Miklos appeared from around the corner, covered in ogre blood. His eyes shone even under the incredible amount of blood clinging to his hair. He pushed past the others and smashed his axe against the yellow barrier.
“Look, Owin.” Artivan turned and crouched, leaving the barrier alone. He reached into his bag, found a piece of paper and started scribbling. “Even without the other heroes that joined them, we can’t fight them and win.”
“What about your sword?”
“I used the last charge for today against Miklos, and the mender protected him. It doesn’t matter. Just listen. We don’t have much time. You have to leave. Not ascend. Leave, Owin. Please.”
“But Ruvaine—”
Artivan held up his hand, cutting Owin off. “If I stay here, as long as my shield is close, Bulwark will hold until my mana is gone. With all that damage from specters, I don’t have all that much mana. You need to run. They will chase you down. Get to Oriathria, take the portal to Atrevaar, and go find Chorsay Eoghet.” Artivan sheathed his sword, undid his belt, and stuck it in Owin’s arms. “This is his sword. I refuse to let scum like them touch it.”
Owin shook his head.
“This isn’t a debate, little goblin. The Nimble Hogs will help you.” He held up a folded piece of paper and stuffed it in Owin’s bag. “Show Chorsay the note. He’ll know. I will hold them off as long as I can. That will give you a good head start. Plenty of time to run. I’ve seen how fast you can be.”
“I’m not going to leave you.”
“I’m not giving you a choice. If I have to throw you through that door, I will.”
Climb, thrall.
Owin gritted his teeth. He hadn’t heard Ruvaine’s voice in a long time. And now, of any time, she decides to try and talk again?
Climb or die.
“Ruvaine says I’ll die if I leave.”
“You won’t. She’s trying to scare you. You’ll die if you climb. I want you to live.”
Miklos smashed his axe against the barrier again, causing cracks to slither through. Artivan stood and pressed his shield into the center. The cracks healed, causing the whole spell to glow bright yellow again.
“Go, now.”
“But—”
Artivan knelt in front of Owin. “I will see you again, little goblin. They are hunting you, not me. Once my spell breaks, they will be frustrated, but that will be the end of it. I will follow you out and meet you at the Nimble Hogs, okay? I will introduce you to everyone, so you don’t have to be afraid to do it yourself.”
“Promise?”
Artivan grabbed Owin’s shoulders. “I promise to keep you safe. Now, ignore Ruvaine. I don’t care what the goddess says. Nobody controls you. Nobody ever will. You are incredible, and you will show the world just how amazing you are. But to do that, you need to learn more about the world. Chorsay owes me a favor, okay? Don’t let him forget that. I’ll make sure I remind him too.”
Owin’s stomach turned. Blood ran from Artivan’s eyes. It leaked from the injuries on both sides of his skull. Some of Artivan’s blood soaked into Owin’s shirt as it leaked from his gauntlet.
The violet light of the halo glowed on the cave walls.
Artivan wasn’t coming, no matter what he promised.
Owin hugged Artivan and felt the old knight’s body shudder a little. Artivan sniffled as he pulled back.
“Be brave. Be quick.”
“We’re a team,” Owin said.
“Best team I’ve ever had. Keep that sword safe, okay?”
“What will you use?”
Artivan pulled the staff from his back. “I’ll make this work.”
Nikoletta and Miklos pounded on the spell, slowly cracking away.
“You won’t escape us!” Nikoletta screamed.
“Nobody can save you!” Siora shouted right after. She cackled, backing away to let the others pound on the barrier.
“Don’t stop running until you get to Oriathria. You have more than enough to pay the toll to Atrevaar. Don’t let anyone stop you.”
Ascend.
Owin’s heart thumped loudly. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears. If he went up a floor, he would have to navigate the unknown landscape on his own with all the heroes chasing him. But if he left the dungeon, he would have the entire world to navigate without Artivan. Every choice was a bad one. Every choice meant leaving Artivan.
“I can’t.”
Artivan hugged him again, squeezing tightly. “You can do anything you want. These people are the worst of the world. Don’t be scared about what’s out there. You will find your place. Better yet, you will make your place.” Artivan pulled back. His eyes were hard as he poked a finger against Owin’s forehead. “You are strong in here, and here.” He moved the finger to Owin’s chest. “Strength is more than who you can kill. That’s what these fools don’t realize. Show the world how strong you are. How capable you are. How incredible.”
Miklos roared and slammed his axe into the barrier. The tip of the blade broke through, sending a huge wave of cracks across the bulwark.
“It’s time.”
“No mercy,” Owin said, barely more than a whisper.
Artivan smiled softly. “Sometimes we need mercy, little goblin. Sometimes we need to forgive and forget. But sometimes . . . sometimes we need to make people wish they never met us. See you soon, little goblin.”
Artivan pressed his shield back against the Bulwark and held the staff an inch off the ground, ready to cast a spell. The violet halo bobbed over his head.
Owin ignored Ruvaine’s words inside his head. Six heroes stood just beyond the spell, pounding at the yellow shield over and over. Artivan didn’t flinch. Even as blood ran from the wounds on his head, down the outside of his armor, he stood confidently.
Owin turned and sprinted right through the exit, even as Ruvaine’s calls turned to screams inside his head.
The black void of the doorway washed over him, taking everything away. It was impossible to tell how much time passed until Owin found himself on a little flat outcropping of wood.
A monstrous tree stood over him, disappearing into the clouds high above. The sky looked infinitely bigger than it had inside the dungeon, though Owin was having trouble even imagining that he was outside.
Far to the right, around a curve of the tree and down a hill, stood a line of heroes waiting their turns to enter the first floor, the goblin caves.
Owin watched for only a moment before leaping off the small wooden platform. He landed in the grass and sprinted away from the Great Forest Dungeon.
Ruvaine had lied. Owin was outside. He was alive.
He carefully unfolded Artivan’s note as he ran. The words were clear, even if they were in shaky handwriting.
He’s a good one.
Trust me.
- Artivan
Ruvaine had lied. Owin would never know what she meant or what she wanted. It didn’t matter anymore. What mattered was the massive world around him. Owin was free to do what he wanted.
But there was only one thing on his mind.
Owin would make sure the Void Nexus heroes regretted ever meeting him.