Ambros was annoyed. Hunched over a pit of sand, he was dragging and scrubbing his chainmail through it to get off the worst zombie bits. You could only walk around with so much gray matter and skull fragments on you before it became more than a fashion statement. The skull fragments that still had hair on it was the worst. The hair got woven into his chain links. It was just a bloody mess.
That wasn't what had been bothering him, though. Looking at his status screen made him want to smack his head against the wall.
Name: Ambros Mardux
Race: Human, variant. Grafted Primus modus, Sanguis Kronos
Titles: Eques
Class: Arcanist
Level: 18
Experience: 1,790/2,601
System rank: Questor*
System points: 12,013,716
Circle: Neophyte
Step: 6/6
Body: 22 ( E )
Mind: 17 ( E )
Spirit: 5 ( E )
Unspent attribute points: 4
Active Skill: Analyze ( E ), Arcane Sight ( D ), Meditation ( F ), Sanctum ( F ),
Passive Skill: Giant Slayer I ( F ), Mana Core ( F ), Omnilingual ( A ), Revitalize ( F ), Toughness I ( F ),
Spells: Arcane Bolt ( F ), Arcane Shield ( F ), Control Earth ( F ), Control Heat ( F ), Control Water ( F ), Control Wind ( F ),
He had lost three points in Body. It was the blighted presence at the altar. Just being under its scrutiny and possibly annoyance had wiped out three of his attribute points. It was a stark reminder that he wasn't exactly the top dog around these parts, or probably any parts for that matter. It annoyed him.
The worst part, he could feel the difference. Felt like going from a day where everything was great, you could go on for hours, to a day where everything was slightly more difficult. Just getting up in the morning was tiresome. That sort of day.
He knew he would get used to it and that he was being a baby. He had gained two more levels and what felt like a massive amount of system points until he remembered the prices he had seen in the system shop.
Finishing up his chainmail scrubbing, he took a look at the places where the bone creature had ripped holes in it. It didn't look good. Having weak links in any armor was a bad idea. No, pun intended. He didn't have any way to repair it, so there was not much he could do about that. Ambros didn't think he would need to oil the chainmail, but since he had bought some, he gave the armor a liberal coating and hung it up while looking at his weapons.
The spear was surprisingly fine. He gave it a few brushes with the whetstone he had purchased, specially made for the spearhead, and brushed it with oil. He then gave the shaft a good polish with an oil-soaked rag. No, he refused to think about any possible jokes that could be made from that statement.
The sword had a few nicks, and the tip was a bit busted. He planned to purchase a better one when he returned to the settlement anyway. Trying to straighten the tip a bit, without much success, he only had stones on hand. Deciding to at least give it back a hint of edge, he gave it a few rounds on the whetstone and a liberal coating of oil.
The mace… It was done for. It was slightly bent, and the flanges weren't very flangy anymore. Well, at least he could use it until it broke completely or as a projectile. It did have some weight.
So, that left him with a falchion that was about to say goodnight, throwing mace pieces, a spear, and armor with big holes in it, not tiny intended ones. All in all, it could be a lot worse, he thought, looking back.
After a desperate attempt at cleaning his gambeson, spending too much time in the bath and some of the food he had stacked up on from the Golden Razor Boar, the settlement's best restaurant. He was in the hallway again. Single and ready to mingle.
Opening the door opposite the one he had been napping in, he saw it was filled with desks. It looked like a mid twentieth-century classroom. Taking a step inside, he barely got his shield up in time. Ambros was hurled out of the room again, his shield arm broken. Tumbling across the floor. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Always check the room. Always!
Making sure his arm was straight, he could feel the bones knitting together. He couldn't see what had hit him yet, but it looked like it had an axe.
Stepping into the hallway again, he made sure to keep some distance from the classroom door as he turned and ran back up to the first pair of doors, checking that they still were empty. He did the same with the former light pillar room. It was all clear.
Giving his arm a few more seconds to heal, he slowly made his way back to the door with the axe wielder. It was acting surprisingly shy.
Carefully extending his spear past the threshold and quickly pulling it back. He saw the axe come at breast height and smash into the door frame. Well, no closing that again.
Again he extended the spear, but his time to the other side of the door frame. The same thing happened, and the axe smashed into the doorframe, but this time he saw a hand and quickly took advantage by stabbing it. The hand didn't let go of the axe, but it must have annoyed the wielder of the axe because the next thing Ambros saw was a zombie so dried out it could have been a skeleton hurling towards him. The axe was held in an overhead position, ready to strike him down the middle. Ambros grinned, standing ready with his shield up and the spear in an underarm position.
The zombie swung. Thankfully zombies were not known for their intellect because all it achieved was vedging the axe to the top of the doorframe. Ambrose gave it a wink as he brought his spear forward, up under its helmet and into whatever passed as a brain. He didn't manage to penetrate the top of the skull, but the zombie was lifted off its feet and thrown back into the room, where it lay unmoving.
It had been stronger than Ambros and swung the axe almost as fast as he could react. All in all, he was quite happy with the outcome.
Battle Award
200 Exp
400 Sp.
Do you wish to loot the corpse?
Before accepting the loot, he tried taking the axe, even putting it in his dimensional storage, but the system just kept asking if he wanted to loot the corpse. That was disappointing.
He could loot the things a person had on them, and he was using that word loosely when referring to the vampiress but not loot the zombie. That sucked. He was positive the zombie had a better personality than the vampiress too.
Finally conceding, he accepted the system prompt. To his delight, he was awarded ten silver coins and a condensed mana stone the size of a chip. That wasn't too shabby.
Those were apparently quite costly, but he had so far kept the ones he had looted from the vampiress to be used in runes. Seeing how expensive good equipment, potions, and pills were at the settlement, however, he was starting to consider an upgrade. He had seen swords that cost more than a housing block. It was mildly infuriating.
Just to be sure, he took out his mirror and did a proper scan before entering. With nothing more lurking around, he entered the classroom. Sure, the zombie had pushed some of the desks around when it went flying, but everything else was placed with precision. There was also a squeaky clean blackboard, sadly. He would have loved seeing what had been written on it.
Making sure to open all of the desks. None had marks or writing on them. He finally made it to the front of the classroom. The teacher's desk. If there was anything here, that would be the place. Just imagine the books that could be hidden within. Ambros was almost jumping in anticipation.
Nothing, drawer after drawer. Not a single thing. Not even dust. What sort of teacher had a clean desk? In defeat, he left the classroom. Looking down the hallway, he couldn't see an end to it. Well, better get started. He had levels to reach.
It had taken him more than a day, but he finally cleared the last room. It had been both nerve-racking and disappointing.
There had been no rhyme or reason as to what doors contained a creature or not. Ten doors with nothing could be followed by twenty doors of either the bone creature or a zombie, sometimes both. Those were exciting.
In total, there had been fifty-seven zombies and eighty-nine of the bone creatures. That netted him thirty-eight thousand one hundred more experience and a hundred and eleven thousand system points.
He ended up looting eighty nine shade bone fingers and an equal amount of vials, fifty seven condensed mana chips and five hundred and seventy silver. That was if the vials were as valuable as he thought, a fortune even for an adept in the first circle. For a neophyte like him, it was just ridiculous.
On top of that, he had found four more of the large silver coins, so he now had five and a leather-bound notebook. He could barely make out a few words that were written there, but he would bring it with him. Maybe Eku had an idea. Sadly no box for the key.
However, despite being a grind and nothing really exciting happening...nothing really exciting happening? Was he getting detached from danger? That was dangerous. Managing to reach level twenty-eight felt good, however. It was a large step towards his goal.
The hallway had abruptly ended in a ninety-degree turn to the right. Looking down at another sloping tunnel, he considered returning to the adventures to see if anyone had any weapons he could borrow. Giving himself a mental shake of the head, he set on down the new tunnel. He was an Arcanist, not a warrior. He only lacked a weapon when his imagination ran out.
The sword may be more of a baton, but the spear was still perfectly serviceable. His mace had splintered, blocking an axe strike. He kept the splinters for possible rune scribing.
Making his way downward, the tunnel was lit in the same way as the hallway above. However, this time, he had prepared torches if things the lights went out.
It ran for a long time, he started jogging at one point, and it still took twenty minutes before he reached the end. Another right turn. It was doubling back on itself then. About ten steps in front of him was another room, brightly lit. If his guess was correct, the room was about fifty steps from the entrance to the other wall. There was also the matter of a skeleton standing in the middle of the room facing him.
He took a few cautious steps forward and stopped to see what it would do. It did nothing. Okay then. He stood at the entrance looking at the skeleton, and the skeleton looked back at him. He waved, the skeleton didn't wave back. Rude. Getting his mirror out, he scanned the room but couldn't see another exit or anything but the skeleton.
The key had to be the skeleton, right? You didn't just leave this much halfway and tunnel into a skeleton in a room for nothing? Admittedly the skeleton had a bronze sword, but that wasn't exactly all that much to celebrate.
Taking the step over the threshold was nerve-wracking. He just knew this was some sort of trap. A single skeleton was the bait. Standing inside the room, he was almost disappointed. The skeleton didn't move. The exit was still there. Looking down, he noticed he was standing in a half circle of floor that was raised a finger above the rest of the floor.
Another step and he was on the floor proper. He didn't need to turn to know the door he had used was closed. The skeleton immediately started resolute strides towards him. The sword raised at head level and pointed at him. Well, that was a quick way to get disarmed.
When the skeleton was within reach, Ambros struck with his spear hitting the skeleton's wrist. The sword and the hand went flÿing, but the skeleton kept walking, arm outstretched for a couple of steps. Its empty eyesockets move to its wrist, then back at Ambros.
They stood there, Ambros with his shield raised and spear ready to strike, the skeleton just looking at Ambros. The skeleton threw itself at him and was met with a spear piercing its skull.
That was it, no system notice, no nothing. He just stood there in an empty room for half a minute before a new door appeared on the wall to the left of where he had first entered the room.
It was a tunnel just big enough for him to stand in, his shoulders almost brushed the edges, and if he had stood on his toes, he would have hit the sealing. Walking inside, it bent immediately right and continued as far as he could see. Nothing to it then but walking.
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About half an hour later, it just stopped. A door opened to his right, and he was looking out at a large arena. Fine sand covered the floor, pillars at regular intervals going so far up he couldn't see where they ended. This couldn't be real? It was enormous. He hadn't walked that deep into the ground?
He stood looking around, almost expecting to see bleachers surrounding it, but there were just walls going straight up as far as he could see.
Then two more doors opened to his left, and shortly after, three more to his right. The first to come out was from the furthest to the right. A purple humanoid with four arms, he didn't recognize the species, but he made sure to have his shield ready as he took a step back.
It was dressed in a yellow leather breastplate and black metal greaves. Its arms bare for suicidal reasons? Seemed stupid, but taking into consideration that Ambros had no idea of what was going on, who was he to judge. Besides, his own tatter chainmail wasn't looking too good, either.
The thing noticed Ambros and gave a wide smile and a wave, so he waved back. Guess we are friends then.
In the meantime, the other four had entered. A human, clad in full plate armor, two elves, one in a robe and one carrying a bow. The robed one had gray going on black skinn while the bow wilder looked tanned.
When they noticed each other, the robed one started mumbling something and waving its hands while the tanned one raised its bow aiming an arrow at the robed one. The last one to enter stepped between them, shouting, “Not now, morons! You can kill each other later.” It was a dwarf with completely shiny black skin. It looked like onyx. Ambros had stopped himself from walking over and touching it to see if it had any elasticity.
Surprisingly the elves calmed down. Both the purple-skinned one and the one in plate armor looked on in amusement.
A gong had been hit somewhere because the sound of it echoed throughout the arena. It was the only thing Ambros could call it. Then a voice spoke, like thunder, it rolled across the arena. Seeming to come from everywhere at once. “Initiates! You have been chosen by your elders as the strongest and most devoted. You completed the sacred trials of blood sacrifice, and you have shown your prowess in the labyrinth of death. Now only the final trial of the great lord Moloch remains. The only task you have is to survive until the end.”
When the hidden announcer said the name Moloch, he felt a rage building in him, a hint of the rage he had felt looking at the altar. Ambros was unsure about what he had gotten himself into, but he was almost positive he wasn't meant to be here.
The other five people started walking toward the middle of the arena. Apparently, they knew more about what was going on than he was. No surprise there since he was clueless. Were they supposed to fight each other, other teams? He wasn't sure how he felt about that.
Sure, he would kill to protect himself, no question. It had been hammered home in him since he was old enough to understand. If the choice was between his life and a hundred others, he should choose himself. It was just the practical application of it he found himself questioning. Could he take a life in cold blood?
He was being stupid again, wasn't he? If it was between these strangers and him, he would choose him. He was more valuable to himself than they were. He just hoped he didn't freeze up when the time came. Work on the moral intricacies later, not when it can get you killed. You're not in Kansas anymore, Ambros.
Following the others to the center of the arena, the announcer and the other people were silent during the almost ten-minute trek. Yeah, this place was gigantic.
When they finally got there, the announcer started shouting again. “Initiates! Your trial is one of perseverance.”
The same dwarf that spoke up earlier spoke up. “Alright, you tossers. We stand a greater chance of surviving this working together. We want a sand hill for the ranged combatants close to one of the pillars, so we only need to cover three sides of it. I swear to Moloch that if either of you pointy-eared shits tries to kill each other during the trials, I'll slay the one that remains and use both your skulls as my chamberpots. Let's go.”
To Ambros's surprise, even the elves nodded at the dwarf and followed him when he moved to the closest pillar. Guess this was serious then, so he nodded and tagged along.
They made it to the corner pillar and started piling up sand. Ambros was about to join them using his shield but stopped to look at things a bit more before speaking up. “Why are we piling up on this side when we will be exposed to the entire arena instead of doing it on that opposite side where we will just be exposed to a corner.”
That made everyone stop digging. The dwarf looked at Ambros, then at the side of the pillar he was pointing at, and looked at where they had been digging. He smiled and said, “Well damn, I thought you were just muscles. Guess I was wrong. Alright, people. You heard him. A hill on the other side of the pillar. Good catch, muscle man. Guess the situation got to me.”
Ambros just waved away the compliment? Got his shield out and helped to make a small hill. He was surprised the dwarf took it so well. He had assumed Moloch was evil by his morals, and followers of evil are always dumb, full of hubris, and incapable of critical thinking, right? Hollywood, have you failed me…?
They almost had the hill ready when the announcer was back. “Initiates, I am pleased to announce that there has been a last-minute change. By the graciousness of Moloch's brother Ankhonem, he has agreed to let you hone yourself on some of his children. The task has not changed. You only need to survive. For how long? That is for me to know.” You could hear the sadistic smile in the announcer's voice as he said that last part.
They stood ready. The two elves stood on the hill. On the side closest to the nearest wall stood the human in full plate armor, who now held a twohanded sword at resting stance blade up and along across his body. He seemed to be praying or something since his lips kept moving. The opposite side was held by the four-armed purple person. He had equipped two small metal shields, a bit bigger than bucklers, and two scimitars. The dwarf was running interference, and Ambros had the direction facing away from the pillar. He had already summoned his spear and his battered-up shield. He liked the shield, it held no enchantments, but it had survived a beating and a half.
They all stood looking around. Nothing seemed to be happening. Then a clawed arm was thrust out of the sand, followed by another and another. “Demons,” the human in full plate armor said.
Ambros watched one claw its way out of the sand. It was dark red with tufts of black hair growing sporadically on its body. The creature stood on all four, mostly because of its massive upper body and oversized arms, he guessed. Black horns that curved back over its skull, wide head and mouth, the teeth were large enough that he could see it had several rows, like a shark. On all four, it would reach Ambrose's chest. It reminded him of a gorilla with an oversized upper body and horns. There was also something goat-like about its snout and eyes. It looked like what he would expect a crazy person to describe a demon if someone had asked them to.
Calling it a demon felt a bit insulting. He had never seen a demonic entity that couldn't have crushed him with a stray sneeze. That almost made him chuckle. Maybe he did chuckle a bit because the dwarf said, “That's how it should be. Laugh in the face of danger, warrior.”
More and more of them were making their way out of the ground as the first ones were running towards the group.
The archer and whatever the other elf was didn't wait either. Arrows started taking down the demons, thinning out the first wave. Ambros could hear the other elf muttering something for several seconds and shouting, “Fire!” while holding out her hands. A line of fire started a few steps in front of the four-armed one and continued for quite a bit. Ambros was about to ask what that had been about when he saw a demon run into it and get stuck in melted glass howling in pain. He thought demons came from the fires of hell or something. Maybe he was wrong. He had no experience with their species prior to this. At least that divided the incoming demons.
The first of the demons managed to reach the purple one, who met each one with a shield to the head and a slash of his sword. The demons didn't seem to like his swords because they howled in pain when they got hit. Something the dwarf took advantage of. He had turned his arms into long spikes of obsidian or something similar and was stabbing at any demon that came close to the purple one. He would leave a part of the spike inside the demon when he struck, and it exploded moments later, either crippling or outright killing them.
Ambros was about to have his own visitors any second now, but he managed to see the one in full plate armor cleave a demon in half as he stepped past its attempt at jumping on him.
Then they were upon him. Shield up the spear in overarm stans, he stood, legs braced for the charge. The first of them thudded into his shield but failed to dislodge him, so he stabbed it just belove the neck and into its spine. The demon fell dead at once. The one right behind careened into his side, though, and the impact almost bowled him over. As he summed his spear and took hold of the demon's horn. Dragging it around him in a loop so it wouldn't go up the hill to the elves. With a mighty heave, he lifted it up over his head and smashed it on top of the demon about to hit him in the stomach.
Quickly resummoned his spear, he stabbed them both to death. The Deep strike enchantment allowed the spear to pierce their skulls, and the Freezing strike one made sure their life was unpleasant enough to leave behind.
He took a look around. No one was overwhelmed yet. The archer and the spell speaker did excellent work at keeping their flanks from being overwhelmed.
The next group was already on him. Taking a long right stride, he smashed the head of the leftmost one with his shied in passing and braced the spear against the ground letting the furthest on the right impale itself on his spear- That still left the two that bowled into him. Summoning his spear en getting a ruined sword, he managed to drive it up through the jaw of one of the demons, ending its life. The second one was on top of him and clawing at him with both his hands and feet like a cat. It was excruciatingly painful. He didn't want to look at his crotch for a while.
Everything between his thighs and stomach felt on fire, but he was angry now. Taking hold of the demon's neck and stood up while repeatedly punishing it in the face with his other arm. Turning its head into a pulp while it continued clawing at him.
Looking down, he could see his stomach and upper thighs severely bleeding, but he could feel the wounds closing at a visible rate. That was about what he had time for until the next bunch of demons reached him.
Ambros lost himself in a mele of blood, teeth, and claws. No matter how many he killed, more seemed to come at him. At one point, he found himself wrestling on the ground with a particularly large demon, his helmet long lost, The thing managed to get its teeth around his head, and Ambros panicked. He managed to get a hand into its mouth and keep its jaw open as he cast an Arcane Bolt inside its mouth and up in the back of the demon's head. Hopefully, the others were too busy to notice. It was all he had time to think about until the next one was on him.
Blood streaming down his face and in his eyes, so he almost missed it. His left arm was useless for the few seconds it would take to heal back his tendons. He summoned his spear and stabbed a demon down its throat as it lept at him, unsummoned his spear so he wouldn't get tangled in the dead demon still flying towards him. He shoulder-checked the dead demon towards his right, so it landed on a demon trying to reach his legs.
It was strange, but there was a flow to the battle, he just had to follow it, and he could almost understand the chaos around him, maybe even direct it. He felt it like it felt having a forgotten word on the tip of his tongue, so close but not quite there.
Shaking his sweating and bloody head, he went on the offensive on the closest two demons. They seemed to be fighting over something on the ground. He couldn't let that opportunity pass him by. Two quick stabs between their vertebrates, and they lay there unmoving, ready to have their skulls stomped. He was getting better.
Laying between them was one of the elves. The caster, They had eaten half of her torso. Ambros felt strangely dissipation about it, almost detached.
Turning towards where he could feel the closest demon would come from… When had he started feeling where demons came from? Never mind. Later. He had to make sure there was a later first.
His arm felt well enough, so he resummoned his shield and threw himself back into the chaos.
He stepped forward and speared another demon. Swinging his spear upwards in an arch, he flicked the demon's corps back down into a group of four demons. Jumping after it, he landed among the demons, his spear flashing. Moments later, four dead demons lay on the ground.
A demon hit him in the back, and he went flying forward. He tried rolling on his side, but for some reason, he couldn't. Lifting himself off the ground, he eventually managed to get to his feat. Someone must have taken care of the demon.
Looking down, he saw a black spike piercing the left side of his chest. Ambros couldn't make sense of it. His head was spinning. From behind, he heard, “Well, damn. You are a tough pissant, aren't you?” Then the spike exploded.
Ambros felt cold. He felt like there was something he should be doing, but he didn't know what. Everything seems so quiet. It was nice. Reminded him of a time when he read books about strange formulas and unsolved spell constructs. It seemed so long ago. He wanted to do that again one day.
Then his other heart started beating again, and his reserve lungs working. Then he remembered.
Standing up, he looked at the shocked dwarf trying to put on his dimensional bag. Not only had the pile of shit tried to kill him. He had looted his still living body.
The next thing he knew, he was looking down at the dwarf, a palm on each side of his face. He could see the despair and shock in the dwarf eyes. No, it, this thing had lost its right to be alive. It was no more worthy than a rock found along the road. “Ho…” Was all it managed to say before Ambros crushed his palms together, ending its existence.
Falling to his knees, he gave in and sat back, just for a moment. He was just too tired. Looking down at himself, he could see parts of his chest still not covered with skin. It was mildly nauseating to watch your own insiders working to keep you alive. He wasn't even sure how his body worked with that much muscle gone. He was healing fast, far faster than he thought he should be without a healing rune or spell.
No, he was still not done here. There had been no annoying announcer proclaiming his victory or doom. He wasn't sure he cared either way right now. Getting to his feet, he looked down at the headless thing before him.
Ambros retrieved his dimensional bag and hung it around his neck again, then, for good measure, took anything of value he saw on the former living thing. It had a dimensional bags in the form of a signet, a ear piercing in the shape of a tear dropped, and a bracelet of copper or something similar. He would have to open it later and check that there were no traps or locks.
Looking around, he found the other's corpses easy enough. The plate-armored human had his head ripped off, but his armor still looked good, so Ambros stuffed it all into his bag. He also had a signet as his dimensional bag. Ambros started to wonder if it was a trend.
The bow-wielding elf was killed by the dwarf, all of his items missing, so Amnbros guessed he already had the elf's loot. The same situation with the spell caster and the purple one, except the dwarf hadn't killed them. They had been slain by demons.
Battle Award
20,450 Exp
26,600 Sp
Do you wish to loot the corpses?
Yes, he chose. Around a hundred and twenty of the demons went up in smoke. The rest and the other dead people were dragged down into the sand.
He was awarded a hundred and twenty-three demon horns and an equal amount of demon blood vials. Probably worth something. His level had increased to thirty-two. On top of that, his Giant Slayer and Toughness were at level two.
They may not do much yet, but get a few more levels in and start getting them to higher grades, and those two would be earning their keep on his skill list. He was getting there, if slowly. Each level got him closer to his goal.
A gong was struck, and twice more, it rang. The voice was back, “The carnage, the brutality, and the destruction. More than anything, the despair in the eyes of the betrayed and betrayer. So sweet. So filling. Moloch is very pleased. Sadly we were not able to witness the final trial since all your former compatriots seem to have lost their will to fight. You may return to your leaders and proclaim yourself no longer an Initiate but a disciple.”
In the wall where he had first entered the arena, a door opened. Ambros made his shambling way over, tired, hungry, and still hurt. He expected the announcer to shout something more and drag him into more trials, but nothing happened.
Leaving by the same door he came from, he turned left and walked face-first into a wall. In confusion, he looked around and noticed the tunnel didn't go back the way he had come from at first but rather continued far in the opposite direction. It would seem that he wouldn't be leaving just yet.