The moment Sulika’s foot landed on the other side of the portal, she didn’t hesitate to reach into the pouch on her side and pull out a mask. It was a fact that every dungeon’s air was polluted beyond measure. So, every hunter, regardless of their level or position in the Guild, makes sure to always carry around a re-breather everywhere they went.
Sulika’s re-breather was black with white trim around the outer edges; a small, rectangular tank was attached on the left side of the mask, and connected to a circular vent on the right side of the mask through tiny tubes that ran beneath the surface of the mask.
Her mask was on the smaller side, only large enough to cover her nose and mouth. - though many hunters chose re-breathers that covered their entire faces, Sulika hated the ones that forced her to look through the lenses. They were always getting dirty or broken, and you had enough issues seeing through the miasma without adding even more crap to see through. The mask wrapped around her head and fastened at the nape with a quiet *snapping* of the buckle.
Once her mask was in place, she turned and inspected her teams’ faces; Derrick’s mask was one of the larger ones and just barely fit beneath his helmet. It was black with a red accent line throughout, a large circular vent was positioned exactly where his mouth was, and used subdermal tubes to connect it to a pair of cylindrical tanks at the back of his neck - just above where the buckles fastened it into place. Zarud’s was like Derrick’s in appearance, but instead of red accents, Zarud’s were yellow. Ralocan’s mask was small, like Sulika’s, but his mask was white with yellow accents. Four vertical vents were positioned over his mouth and nose and connected to a pair of circular tanks on either side of his neck. Like the other masks, his buckled near his nape and hid from sight by his armor.
Sulika nodded her approval at their preparedness and returned her attention to the surrounding dungeon.
“It’s a temple...” She trailed off with a sigh of annoyance. Temples usually meant one of two things: undead. Or spiders. She didn’t know why those particular creatures were the most common sights in temple dungeons, but time and time again she’d fought off one or the other in locations that looked incredibly similar to what she was looking at now.
They were outside. The sky overhead was a disgusting mix of black and sickly purple, and the all-encompassing smell of rot accompanied it. Thick, violent clouds blocked any sunlight from reaching the ground - not that it would’ve made it through the miasma, anyway.
The ground beneath their feet was covered in a thick layer of ash and snow, but Sulika could feel the rocky ground beneath. In front of them loomed a massive, Golden Temple that had been precariously built on the edge of a cliff that extended a couple hundred feet away from the mountain.
The temple’s entrance was a wide rectangle with thick, silver pillars supporting the triangular roof. Behind the entrance, Sulika could see a gigantic dome that seemed to comprise the entire temple’s main body.
It wasn’t the most elaborate design she ever seen, but the amount of gold and silver on display made her palms inch.
Metal was a rare and incredibly precious resource back on their world. And not just gold, silver, or platinum, but all forms of metal were precious. Just one pillar from the front of the temple could probably allow her entire team to live like kings for five years. The entire temple... Well, it was probably worth more than the entire city of Azuris.
Had they not been on a time limit with the risk of a dungeon break looming over their heads, Sulika would’ve gladly started shoving her pockets full of gold and silver.
“Eyes open and minds on the mission. I know it’s tempting – gods is it tempting -but we can’t afford any distractions until we’re sure the dungeon won’t break. Is that clear?” Sulika asked. She watched as her voice registered in her teams’ minds one by one, each one snapping out of a greed induced stupor. They’d all been just as fascinated with the sight of all that wealth... Just lying there... Ready for the taking.
Sulika shook her head again and began walking towards the marble steps that led to the temple’s entrance.
“Zarud, do you think you could -” Ralocan spoke from a few paces behind Sulika.
“Hell no. You’d need a crane to move one of those pillars.” Zarud instantly replied.
“I’m not saying we take the whole thing. Maybe just the broken one, over there.”
Sulika didn’t need to see him to know which pillar he was referring to; at the far end of the entrance was a broken pillar. Half of it was still attached to the roof, but the other half had been broken - shattered beyond any hope of repair. It left huge silver chunks scattered across the ground in front of the temple.
“Well... I could probably bring back some of those. Provided our captain gave the okay.”
“So long as we deal with the dungeon first, I don’t care what you grab on the way out...Provided you can beat me there. Because I’m definitely grabbing some of that silver to go,” Sulika said. Her voice said she was joking, but the look in her eyes told them she was probably serious.
They reached the staircase and quickly ascended them. They took extra care to watch for any traps or monsters that could’ve been hidden nearby.
They saw none. But this wasn’t necessarily a good thing. In Sulika’s experience, there were almost always traps or monsters hidden near the portal. It was the dungeon’s first line of defense against the hunters who sought to close them. So, for them to see none, meant they were hidden by magic, buried beneath the floor and were waiting to be triggered by a pressure plate or some other sensor, or worst of all - they’d appeared in a place that didn’t need traps to protect the heart of the dungeon.
The last option seemed to be the most likely. This was a ‘black’ dungeon, after all.
The color of the portal that opened it was how the hunter’s guild categorized a dungeon’s difficulty.
A white dungeon was the easiest. The demons inside were weak, and more often than not, had many weaknesses that could be exploited to make them even easier to kill. White dungeons also lacked any of the usual traps that made dungeons so dangerous. Which is why the hunters Guild often used white dungeons for training rookies.
Blue was just above white in terms of difficulty. While the demons inside were still weak, traps were now added into the mix. Blue dungeons were statistically responsible for more Hunter deaths than any other, because of the sheer amount of rookie hunters who meet their end during their first excursion into a blue dungeon.
Yellow dungeons were the next highest difficulty. Dungeons marked by the yellow color were only for hunters above level ten. The demons inside could hold their own in a fight, the traps were deadly to the unprepared, and the boss monster was insanely strong - Until this moment, the most dangerous dungeon Sulika and her team had ever entered was a yellow dungeon that took the form of a labyrinthine mine.
As for black dungeons, they actually existed outside of the normal color scale. Black dungeons were widely known as ‘abnormal’ dungeons. While the actual difficulty of the demons and traps within could be any color, what made black dungeons so formidable was the unknown variable you had to deal with, while still fighting off demons and avoiding traps.
From infinitely reviving demons, strange elemental hazards and the boss room being the only accessible part of the dungeon, to having your stats temporarily enhanced, your equipment upgraded a level, or being granted temporary access to powerful magics. Entering a black dungeon was like rolling dice with your life on the line - you could never tell what the abnormal effect would be until you were already inside. And by then it was too late to change your mind.
Sulika led her team through a wide archway that served as the front door of the temple and down a long, straight corridor. While watching for traps, demons, and anything else that might try to take a piece out of them. The group was in awe at the intricate details engraved on the walls and ceiling.
“Looks like dwarvish, but the words are all wrong.” Derrik grumbled.
“You’d be the expert on that, O short one.” Ralocan muttered back.
“Do you think you’ll still be able to make short jokes if I break both your kneecaps?”
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Probably. Since even were I bound to a wheelchair, I'd be taller than you.”
“Hmph. Taller, and three times as ugly.”
“That’s not what your mother said last night.”
“Means nothing. My mother thinks orcs are good looking, too. Ask Zarud.”
“Do not involve me in your petty squabbles… Your mother has good taste, though. Explains why I see her at the brothel so often.”
“Nah. That’s not why. She just has to pick up my sister from work.”
“You don’t have a sister.” Ralocan pointed out while grinning down at Derrik.
“Aye. But I do have a brother. Doesn’t look too bad in a dress, but all that powder he uses to cover his beard shadow makes my damn nose itch. Ya know, Zarud, he keeps asking when you’re gonna come back and see him. Says he’s got a bucket full of extra large rubbers with your name on it.”
“Careful, Derrik. Don’t stroke his ego too much. He might burst.” Ralocan snorted.
“Hmm? Oh, the rubbers aren’t for Zarud’s use. Our friendly orc pal is a receiver, not a giver.” Derrik said, barely able to contain his laughter.
“Rude. I’ll have you know, I gave an awful lot to your mother just the other day. Tis just a shame I didn’t have that bucket then.” Zarud sighed dramatically. “But don’t worry Derrik, I won’t run out on yer ma like dear old dad did… I draw the line at you calling me ‘daddy’, though.”
“Oh, I understand. That’s a title only my brother can use, isn’t it?” Derrik said in a clearly exaggerated, but grief-filled voice. “Figures. He’s always the favorite. Well, I’m sorry I don’t have the legs to pull off a sequin dress, Zarud.”
“Could you clowns knock off the comedy act already?” Sulika snapped. While she was glad the three of them got along well enough to joke around, there was a time and a place for everything… And this was definitely not the time.
“Sorry ma’am.”
“Aye, my apologies.”
“They started it.” Zarud muttered sourly.
“And I finished it. Now, keep quiet and – Watch out!” Sulika shouted. She jumped aside, allowing the first blast to race past her and splash against the wall.
“O’ honorable Cyndarr, my keeper and guardian, hear my despaired prayer. Grant me an impenetrable shield with which to protect mine allies. I ask this of you as your humble servant: Sanctua —” Before he could finish the spell, Sulika had to push off the wall and leap towards Ralocan. She brought both Derrik and Ralocan with her as she moved out of the way of a second, more powerful, beam of purple energy that pierced through the gathered mana Ralocan had gathered and splashed against the opposite wall.
Sulika watched in horror as the gathered mana pulsed once, twice, three times – Each pulse causing it to grow more violent and out of control.
Normally, divine magic was an incredibly stable source of mana… But that was a double-edged sword. Because the more energy it takes to make a spell lose control, the more violent the outburst is when it finally gives in.
The corridor shook violently as a fourth pulse broke the wall apart. Huge pieces of gold and marble landed on the floor just inches away from their feet, and it didn’t take a dwarf to know the ceiling was about to collapse.
Acting quickly – Zarud dashed forward and grabbed Sulika by her belt. With a short spin, he tossed her the final fifteen feet to the opening at the rear end of the corridor. Then he lifted Derrik and Ralocan by their pants and hauled three kinds of ass to the end exit. They could hear the out-of-control magic hissing like a pissed off cat, which spurned Zarud to run faster than he ever thought he could.
As Zarud reached the end of the corridor, he leapt over Sulika whilst still holding onto his two teammates. The three of them crashed into the floor hard enough to knock the wind from their lungs and force them to drop their weapons or risk accidentally stabbing someone they shouldn’t.
The *Boom!* that followed was deafening. Ralocan’s failed spell released enough energy to shatter the golden walls, and collapse the marble floor and ceiling.
They were safe, for the moment, but the spell had cut off their only escape route…
Sulika watched her teammates climb to their feet and, seeing them relatively unharmed, caused her to release the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
The four of them simultaneously looked for the source of the magic that had almost brought the roof down on their heads.
The dome part of the temple was a large vacuum, with neither walls nor ornaments to obscure their vision. While this helped them immediately spot the cultist standing near the center of the dome, it also meant the creature standing just behind the cultist had no trouble spotting the four of them.
The creature was something out of Sulika’s worst nightmare; Eight-feet tall with a pair of golden plated horns curling back over its bald head. It was covered in small scales whose color reminded Sulika of freshly spilled blood. A suit of silver armor covered its thickly muscled body, leaving only its head, large bat wings, and spiked-tail uncovered.
Six beady black eyes with pupils that seemed to contain the blue flames of the underworld within them stared directly at Sulika and her team. But what she saw in those eyes wasn’t malice – it couldn’t even be called interest. The creature was looking at them, the same way she’d looked at an ant that had wandered into her home. And she had the distinct feeling it could squash her with just as much effort.
“You summoned me to this backwater hellhole… for this?” The demon asked the cultist. Its voice grated on Sulika’s ears – While the voice itself sounded fine, if higher than she would’ve imagined, there was an undertone of hissing which bore directly into her brain and made her feel extremely unpleasant.
“Y-Yes, lord Bozzen -”
“Do Not Speak My Name!” The Demon roared. Its anger caused blue flames to erupt from its scalp, igniting the space behind its horns with a fire hot enough to be felt by Sulika and co – over thirty feet away.
Sulika didn’t want to imagine how the cultist must have felt being the focus of such an anger.
The cultist whimpered in acceptance; He fell to his knees and slammed his head into the floor in a desperate show of remorse. “Forgive me. Please, my lord. I-I didn’t mean to insult you.”
It took a few seconds, but Bozzen did, eventually, calm down. And as he calmed, the flame atop his head receded like a hairline, eventually disappearing beneath the demon’s scalp. But the damage had been done. The cultist’s body was shaking violently from exposure to such high temperatures, and the marble floor beneath the demon’s feet was partially melted.
“Whatever.” The demon sighed lazily while looking around at the walls of the temple. It clearly didn’t want to be here – then again, neither did Sulika, especially not after seeing whatever the hell that thing was.
The demon’s eyes landed on a spot above Sulika’s head – There was a clear change in its expression, going from a mild annoyance to curiosity, then confusion, then… Fear?
“What did you say the name of this world was?” The demon asked quickly, rounding on the cultist and grabbing his robe in one large, scaly hand. Bozzen lifted the cultist as easily as Sulika would a slice of bread, and held him at eye level, leaving his feet to dangle some three feet off the floor.
“I don’t know. Mag something. I didn’t have much time to look at the info screen before I had to summon you.”
“Think, mortal. Think! Use that pea brain of yours and give me a name.” Bozzen snapped.
“Mag, ma… Mag Ársa. Yeah, that sounds right!” The cultist hysterically said.
Bozzen’s eyes went wide. He stumbled backward as if he’d been struck and released the cultist without a care.
Sulika noticed the sudden change in the demon’s demeanor, but couldn’t understand it. What was so important about the name of this dungeon? And more to the point, why was the demon so afraid of it?
“You need to send me back.” Bozzen said, his voice tinted by anxiety. “Right now. I don’t care what price I have to pay for not adhering to the contract. You need to send me back, RIGHT NOW!” He screamed while grabbing the cultist by his hood and lifting him off the ground.
The cultist screamed in terror and flailed against the demon’s arm.
Sulika and her team readied their weapons for battle. She doubted they could win in a fight against Bozzen, but they couldn’t let the cultist be killed without first knowing how to close the dungeon.
“Send me back! Please!” Bozzen said, his voice leaning more towards a cry for help than a command – an ocean of bloodlust washed over everyone in the dome, driving the demon to its knees and allowing the now maddened cultist to escape its grasp and flee.
Sulika and her team, despite not being the target of the bloodlust, weren’t unaffected by it either. All four of them felt the air get knocked from the lungs, and their vision darken at the edges.
Sulika blinked through the blurry vision and focused her eyes on the demon… Or rather, on the large man standing behind the demon; Crimson hair that flowed over his shoulders like liquid magma, a heavily muscled frame poorly hidden by a ragged robe, and those eyes… Incandescent golden eyes that seemed to be simultaneously looking at everything and also nothing at all.
As quickly as it came, the bloodlust evaporated into nothing. The pressure on her chest vanished, and the fog covering her eyes lifted in a second.
A look of relief passed over Bozzen’s face – and that same relieved look remained after the giant beheaded the demon with an axe the size of a ten-year-old human child.