Chapter 161 - Headhydra II
Unlike all the previous floors, the thirtieth was not a twisting maze, but a single massive arena. It had an elliptic shape with pillars alongside the edges and elevated seats for spectators aplenty. But despite the almost coliseum-like format, it remained dark as a starless night. There were no sunstones embedded into its ceiling. The monotone, sandstone bricks that made up its construction left it feeling dull, dreary, and lifeless.
“We’re here to help!” Lia announced their intentions as soon as she hit the ground and dashed towards the ranger with her blade drawn.
With the two newcomers stepping into the ring, the numbers were even—each side had exactly four fighters. The surrounded party immediately assigned one of their members to each of the threats, as if to declare that the conflict was to be settled through a series of duels, but Claire was having none of it. Indulging her foes was silly and pointless, equivalent to throwing away the advantage that came with their encirclement. The opponent that faced her only compounded her irritation. She was stuck with the frog-headed mage, the most boring of all the available choices.
The greatest contributor to the half-lamia’s disappointment was the caster’s element of choice, made clear by both her salamander-skin staff and the flaming ring that had suddenly appeared in the air behind her. To the heat-resistant lyrkress, the fire mage was an easy foe, a free kill unlikely to provide anything but the tiniest sliver of experience.
That was why she ignored her and looked towards the others. Everyone else was already locked in combat. Lia had the fish-headed ranger in check. She was swatting his arrows out of the air with her blade, and his wolf proved just as useless. It was only half her speed; the poor dog could do nothing as she outmaneuvered it without breaking a sweat.
The pair they had volunteered to aid was just as nonchalant. One of the cloaked figures was evading the giant’s attacks with an incredible display of agility, while the other was focused almost entirely on running away. It fled every time the lizardman drew too close, but fired spells—blasts of water—at him whenever he tried to switch targets. A fine display of the art of being a nuisance.
Her new target identified, Claire turned into a centaur and charged straight at the two-legged reptilian. Neither the fiery orbs that struck her during her transformation nor the crimson ray that assailed her during her charge provided any sort of deterrence. The grug mage opened her mouth in an attempt to warn her lizard-shaped friend, but the lyrkress stopped the frog-mantis in her tracks by magically grabbing ahold of her tongue. Pulling it with one hand, she pushed the rest of the anuran’s face in the opposite direction and ripped the fleshy tether straight out of her throat.
The lizardman spun around when he noticed the thundering of her hooves, but by then, it was too late. One of her feet flew into his chin with all the force of a one-fox vehicle. He firmly planted his feet back on the ground and resisted being blown away, but his defense remained ineffective. Rearing up, the centaur blasted his ribs with a series of devastating, rapid kicks, backed by the weight of her body.
He endured the pain and swung his sword at her legs, but she evaded the strike by turning back into a lamia and twisting her body out of the way. Dropping to the floor, she horsed herself again and delivered a powerful spinning kick to his gut. It landed directly on target, but again, he held his ground and stopped it with sheer strength.
His blade flashed again, faster than she could dodge, but it failed to cut through her. The cloak turned itself into a thick layer of solid iron, almost a meter thick. He managed to get through half of it, but his sword got stuck before he could claim her hind limbs.
Still groaning in pain and drowning in her own blood, the ignored fire mage pushed herself off the ground and cast another spell whilst the two were locked in place. It was a massive flaming orb, a bright crimson blast that none would dare consider inert. The angle was perfect; the grug had moved to the side of the hall before firing, so it wouldn’t hit her companion, no matter how Claire evaded.
If it were allowed to continue on its own course.
After throwing two plates at the mage and breaking them on her face, Claire magically seized the fireball with one hand and rammed it into her reptilian foe. He screamed, but not only in pain. His eyes began to change, the whites turning a deep violet as thunder coursed through his body. The electrostatic energy sped through the lyrkress’ defenses and fried the nerves in her feet. A painful but familiar sensation, identical to the one that had once knocked her out of the sky.
She hated how it felt. It was a burning agony that ignored her resistance and jostled her mind, but she grit her teeth and bore with the pain. It faded as soon as she turned her shield back into cloth and wrenched her legs away.
Wings of lightning sprouted from the lizard’s back as he opened his mouth and roared. The same mistake that the grug had made before. But as ready as she was to react, it was not Claire who punished his foolishness. The water mage crafted a torrent that rained down his throat and filled his lungs.
Eyes opening wide, he clamped his teeth shut, but to no avail. Claire kicked the sword out of his hand and shoved her fingers into his neck. Her hands pierced his flesh, but she was met with resistance when she tried to remove his jaw. She couldn’t tear it off his face. His muscles were too sturdy, and his raw strength easily outstripped her own.
Frowning, she tried to back off but he tensed his neck and locked her arm in place. One of his fists flew into her gut and sent another bolt of lightning through her body. A second, more powerful attack followed as his wings glowed with an even greater burst of energy, but his hand was run through. She lengthened her shard and used his own momentum to skewer his fist and tear his flesh.
He shocked her again, but she ignored the electrical charge. Because his spell broke as soon as she started stealing his health and mana. A horrified, pained gasp escaped him as his muscles loosened. Just enough for her to reach deeper into his body. Her fingers wrapped around his arteries and twisted them completely out of shape. A quick wrenching motion tore them and left him choking on his own blood.
The mage that was the warrior’s lifeline tried all she could to stop the lyrkress from finishing him off. But her spells were both useless and completely neutralised. The taller hooded figure parried every spell she fired with a torrent of water. Even a massive blaze large enough to consume a person whole was destroyed by the other sorcerer’s waves.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Not missing the obvious opening, Claire drew her lizard-shaped mace and flung it across the hall. Its steel-tipped snout smashed right into the mage’s face and broke her nose beneath its weight. Boris followed the assault with one of his own. He opened his mouth as soon as he recovered from the impact and clamped his jaws down on the fallen mage’s head.
Spinning back around, Claire pulled a klimgor fang out from within her robe and moved to finish the lizard. But while the deceased mage’s interference was useless, his other companions were not so easily overlooked. Throwing her sword at her foe, the giantess sprinted across the battlefield and tackled the lyrkress with the full weight of her massive frame.
It would have been a bone-crushing charge, had Claire not transferred all the hulking warrior’s momentum away. It was given to her ally, who crashed into the ground with such force that his ribs sprung from his chest.
But even with all its velocity taken, the rush was still a devastating blow. Claire found her own ribs broken by the sheer mass accompanying the body slam; the giantess weighed at least a ton, if not twenty, and her full plate armour was nothing to scoff at.
But the injury was irrelevant.
Because the battle was over.
Having subdued the ranger, Lia appeared behind the giant and cleaved straight through her hips. Neither the tempered steel nor her muscular frame could hold beneath the rapier’s brilliant blue flash. The giantess screamed and collapsed. She was clearly incapacitated, just like the armless ranger collapsed on the other side of the hall.
All her enemies had been subdued. But Claire wasn’t satisfied with the result. Charging her shard with divinity again, she changed its shape, plunged it into the giant’s chest, and pierced her through the heart.
The lizard was next. With a deep breath, and all the magical force she could muster, she pushed the giant off of her and right onto the half-conscious reptilian lying by her side. He likely would have been able to handle the weight in his normal state, but his injuries were already too severe. His open ribcage was flattened and its contents were used to paint the dungeon’s floor.
“Are you alright, Claire?”
Taking the offered hand, the lyrkress got back to her feet with a nod. A few of her fingers had been bent out of shape and her ankles had shattered, courtesy of the giantess, but everything fixed itself as soon as she ended the colossus’ life.
Her own logs weren’t the only ones going off in her mind. Boris’ were as well. As she had learned, not too long after the taming incident, she was able to see everything that he gained or acquired. Though not officially recorded in the divine charter, the steelclaw was also counted as one of the party’s members, and to Claire’s annoyance, he received an almost disproportionate cut of all the experience gained.
“I’m fine.”
With everyone but the ranger slain, Claire looked towards the two that they had helped, both of whom had remained perfectly calm throughout.
“Why didn’t you help him?” Lia was the one that posed the question. A frown on her face, she walked over to the dwarf’s body and leaned down next to it. Justice had been served, but the cat was disappointed, disappointed that the pair had refrained from saving their ally.
The shorter of the two cloaked figures had revealed that its raw strength surpassed even that of the giant’s. It had dodged and parried even the heaviest blows with ease; it could have easily stepped in and prevented the mountain fairy’s death.
“We didn’t need to,” said the taller figure, with a grunt. His voice was deep and almost seemed unnatural, given his gentle, soothing articulation. “It takes more than that to kill an ascended dwarf.” A closer look at the man provided a better explanation. His cloak was loose fitting, and though it hid most of his features, a distinctly bony chin remained visible, even in the darkened arena. Like the fleshless hand that stuck out from his sleeve, his imperfect hood revealed that he was a skeleton. And like every other skeleton, he produced the sound not with a set of vocal chords, but rather the magical core that contained his consciousness.
Only those that followed Xekkur’s teachings had qualms with the true undead races. Some were put off by their aesthetic, but the same could be said of any other species. Huskars had a distaste for humanoid heads, arachnes found those without legs horrific, and mouse beastkin were often terrified of anything that had both big floppy ears and tusks.
“He doesn’t look fine to me,” said Lia, with a skeptical frown. “His head was smashed to bits.”
All things considered, skeletons were considered easy on the eyes, with many of their half-bred children known for their remarkable beauty. And while the hooded water mage was no halfbreed, he certainly was a sight worth beholding. His bones were a pearly white, and his magical aura a calming minty green. His jawline was gentle and almost feminine, but it was difficult to say for sure. Claire wasn’t entirely familiar with human-like variants, only ones of a more centaurian form.
“Watch.” The skeleton reached into one of his pockets and produced a messy bundle of hair. Slowly, carefully, he brought it to the dwarf’s body and pressed it against the bottom of his half-smashed chin.
Like creatures with lives of their own, the dark brown strands sprang into action and attached themselves to his face. The rest of his head rapidly regenerated soon after. All the necessary structures grew back, perfectly, as if they had never once been harmed. The beard, however, suffered the consequences. It was turned from a magnificent mane to a mangy, frizzled tail, grey in some spots and bald in others. The bits and pieces soon fell out on their own, scattering as they hit the floor.
The mountain spirit woke as soon as the process was complete. He rubbed his hairless dome and breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks. What was that, my fourth beard already?”
“Sixth,” said the skeleton. “You don’t have many left today. You should be more careful.”
“I won’t say I won’t try, but you never know, with these things.”
Lia was left completely flabbergasted by the development, and Claire was hardly any better off. The blueblood was at least aware of the more common dwarven properties—there were many of them among the barbarians inhabiting the base of the Langgbjerns—but it was her first time seeing one in person.
Sylvia and Boris, who had walked over and parked themselves behind their shared lyrkrian owner, didn’t seem quite as bothered or intrigued. One was yawning, while the other had lazily curled up into a ball.
“So why were they hounding you like that?” asked the catgirl. She flicked the blood off her blade and sheathed it, but her gaze was still sharpened.
“Oh, that’s pretty simple, really.” The dwarf brought his hands to his belly and cackled. “Farenlight was gone by the time we got here, but they didn’t believe us and kept thinking we were being greedy.”
“Farenlight? You mean the dungeon’s boss?” Lia grabbed her book and flipped through it. “We were told it never left its room.”
“And it usually doesn’t, but the whole dungeon’s been acting up since a few days back, and it’s only gotten weirder since.” The dwarf grunted as he picked his bloody leather helmet up off the floor and patted off some of the blood and dirt. “All the monsters on the 29th floor are forming packs closer to the surface instead. Caught me off guard and took one of my beards earlier, that.”
“I see…” Lia looked a little suspicious, but Claire lightly prodded her in the back and spoke in her usual deadpan tone.
“He isn’t lying.”
“He’s not?” the former soldier turned only her head.
“I can tell.”
The statement was followed by a sudden outburst. The shorter cloaked figure began trembling and backing away whilst shaking its head. And then, without saying a word, it drew its blade and attacked.