Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 19 - To be determined - Part One {Rewrite}
Patrolling the refugee column, Emelia kept a wary eye on the swamplands around them. Thanks to the Wards supplied by the Goblin Shamans and Ushu, there was minimal risk of a wild monster sneaking up on them. However, the Wards did nothing to stop the attempted ambushes by the enemy Deep Orcs.
In spite of reaching the swamplands ahead of the Deep Orc fleet that had pursued them, there were still Deep Orcs waiting for them in the swamplands. The only upside was that the Deep Orcs were far too large to effectively blend in with the environment and were attacked by the wild monsters as much as the refugees were, more even, since they lacked Wards of their own for whatever reason.
There was something else as well, the Deep Orcs were sick. Even though Nadine was far too exhausted to spare the time to look at them, Emelia was convinced it was the same sickness Ushu and his people had developed while fleeing through the swamp.
But it didn’t make sense. Why was their leader throwing away their lives like this?
Emelia had little time to dwell on her musings as one of her Goblin warrior escorts spotted another likely ambush point up ahead.
“More pale ones hiding,” Chuti hissed angrily, motioning to a fallen tree further ahead of the refugee column.
“Stupid hiding place,” Filo agreed from his vantage point on Beaky’s back.
Emelia had volunteered the giant predatory bird for scouting duties, but unlike Clarice, she lacked the confidence to use Beaky as a battle mount herself. The Goblin Elders had leapt at the opportunity to make use of a swift-moving predator for reconnaissance, which thankfully spared Shady, Tobi’s Shadowcat, the risks that would accompany the role.
In truth, Emelia had only really volunteered Beaky because she had overheard one of the Goblin elders attempting to pressure Tobi for the use of Shady.
Knowing how attached he was to his Shadowcat, Emelia had volunteered Beaky in Shady’s place. If worse came to worst, she could always tame another one...
Emelia and Chuti approached the Deep Orcs hiding place while Filo took a circuitous route to flank the ambush site from another angle.
Drawing closer, Emelia had a distinct impression that something wasn’t quite right.
As Filo closed in to agitate the Deep Orcs lying in ambush, he suddenly drew back hard on Beaky’s reins.
Expecting the Goblin warrior to have abruptly halted to avoid a small volley of crossbow bolts, Emelia was surprised to see that Filo made no signs of raising his shield to protect himself against any projectiles.
“Orcs look dead!” Filo called out warily while slowly drawing closer to take a better look.
This was not the first group of ambushers they had found dead or debilitated by illness. However, it also wasn’t the first group they had encountered feigning death in order to draw them in closer either.
Emelia and Chuti both raised their crossbows towards the would-be ambushers hiding place and waited.
Filo dismounted and closed the remaining distance on foot. With a long thin spear and small bark shield at the ready, the Goblin warrior was literally going to poke the Deep Orcs bodies to see if they would react.
Filo performed the poking because it made dodging away from the hulking Deep Orcs that much easier and prevented the giant flightless bird being caught as collateral damage. Besides, Beaky was far more effective while mobile than when caught standing still.
Filo briefly disappeared from Emelia’s line of sight, but he reappeared again almost immediately, vaulting backwards and flying through the air towards Beaky.
A lone Deep Orc staggered out of the hiding place a few moments later.
Chuti immediately lined up her shot and fired.
*Thwap*
Chuti’s shot flew true and caught the Deep Orc in its throat, causing it to stumble to its knees and wetly gasp for breath.
Emelia carefully handed Chuti her own still loaded crossbow and accepted Chuti’s unloaded one in turn. They had figured out rather early on that Chuti was a far better shot, so Emelia would prioritise reloading the scavenged crossbows when the situations allowed for it. Besides, originally created by the Deep Orcs, even the strongest Goblin warriors struggled to draw the string back on the crossbows to reload them.
“Two!” Filo called out excitedly as he nimbly began dodging about in the middle ground between the ambushers hiding place and where Emelia and Chuti were taking cover by a tree.
Grunting from the effort of drawing back the arms of the crossbow, Emelia sighed in relief as the cord caught on the trigger mechanism.
*Thunk*
A crossbow bolt struck the tree a foot or so from her head, and Emelia was grateful to see Chuti rapidly adjust her aim and fire back at the enemy crossbowman.
“Gra!” The delayed cry after Chuti’s shot, filled Emelia with relief as she carefully handed over the freshly prepared crossbow.
*Tang*
Filo’s spear impacted harmlessly against the crude iron chest plate of a Deep Orc that was charging across the open ground towards Emelia and Chuti.
“For the bright lord!” The Deep Orc roared and raised its axe high for a killing blow.
Chuti quickly slapped a bolt onto her crossbow and fired.
*Thunk*
The shot went wide and caught the Deep Orc in the pit of his left elbow, unfortunately only accomplishing impairing the left arm and enraging the already terrifying mountain of muscle and iron plates hurtling towards them.
With no time to prepare another crossbow, Emelia hastily drew her short sword and Chuti withdrew a pair of primitive punching knives. Sparing only a brief glance towards one another, Emelia and Chuti dashed off in different directions.
Briefly ducking back behind the tree and headed off to take a circuitous route towards Beaky, Emelia nearly despaired when she found the Deep Orc had chosen her as its target, seemingly in spite of the Goblin Chuti being the one who actually wounded him.
“Damnit!” Emelia cursed and willed for Beaky to come to her aid.
“Craw!” Beaky immediately sprang into action, clearing the distance in less than a couple of seconds.
*Dwump*
The bird's giant beak smacked into the unprepared Deep Orc’s chest and sent him sprawling into the mud.
Rather than becoming engaged in a protracted melee, Beaky continued running past and circled around for another pass.
“Archer!” Filo’s warning came nearly too late as Emelia barely dropped to the ground in time to hear a crossbow bolt pass by overhead. Despite being wounded, it was obvious that the Deep Orcs crossbowman was not out of the fight just yet.
*Thump*
Beaky battered the Deep Orc as he tried regaining his feet, knocking him down into the mud again.
Chuti was no longer retreating, instead, she was now hastily and somewhat cautiously approaching the fallen Deep Orc.
The fight ended rather abruptly as reinforcements from the refugee column arrived and filled the largest Deep Orc with bolts. Meanwhile, Filo was able to harry the crossbowman long enough for Chuti and other goblin warriors to join him and mob the Deep Orc in a way that only Goblins seemed capable of.
Or at least that is how it should have ended.
Distracted by the spectacle of ten Goblins mobbing the single Deep Orc crossbowman, Emelia was very nearly blindsided as the fallen Deep Orc riddled with crossbow bolts jerkily rose to his feet.
There was another scattered volley of crossbow bolts from the relief team, although there were far fewer loaded crossbows to fire with.
The Deep Orc staggered under the impacts but made no sound, instead it unsteadily but purposefully lumbering towards the nearest Goblin.
Something was very wrong.
“Enslavement!” Emelia cried, pointing her shortsword at the aberrant Deep Orc. To her surprise, a Status Alert appeared almost immediately, but she was too flustered to read it. Nadine had explicitly warned her not to use this Ability in front of their Goblin allies, but Emelia couldn’t shake the feeling that something was incredibly wrong. “Stop!” She commanded, willing the Deep Orc to fall still so it would either succumb to its wounds and die, or give them time to put it down.
The Deep Orc continued on regardless, seemingly oblivious to her command.
Emelia felt an icy chill run down her back and took an involuntary step backwards.
*Thunk*
A lone crossbow bolt drove through the visor of the Deep Orc’s helmet and a half-second later, it collapsed to the ground.
A second Status Alert, no doubt the death of the Deep Orc appeared in front of Emelia’s eyes. However, much like the first, she was too excited to stop the letters from moving around enough to read them.
“Emelia!” Tobi called out worriedly as he rushed over from the refugee column. The Goblins made way for him and Tobi warily skirted the corpse of the Deep Orc, “Don’t touch it!” he warned the goblins as they began closing in to salvage their ammunition. There was the unmistakable pitchiness in Tobi’s voice that he reserved for when he was truly afraid, and that only unnerved Emelia even more.
As much as Emelia liked Tobi, she was still far too embarrassed to admit to her...condition. So she waited to see if he would explain what it was that had him so worried. Tobi’s sudden arrival and warning made it abundantly clear that there had been something in the Status Alerts that worried him, and so long as Emelia waited, she would know what it was too. Not being able to read whenever she wanted was inconvenient and frustrating, but it was baffling how often other people would do it for Emelia if she was patient and waited.
“It didn’t touch you did it?” Tobi asked worriedly, critically looking her over front and back before calming down.
Emelia shook her head, “No, it didn’t make it any further than what you saw,” she explained, her slight upward inflection suggesting Emelia wanted to know why he was being so careful.
Tobi let out a deep sigh in relief, “You probably haven’t had much experience with Ghouls in Hurst, but you remember how I told you my family is from Mornbrent?”
Emelia nodded.
“Well, the Mornbrent Labyrinth is sort of famous for the fact that it is very nearly overrun with undead type monsters like that Ghoul,” Tobi shakily pointed at the fallen Deep Orc for emphasis.
“What makes them so dangerous?” Emelia asked nervously, edging further away from the body.
Tobi seemed only too keen to put more distance between them and the seeming corpse, “Certain undead types, like the Ghoul, Curse their victims through touch, and if you die while Cursed...well...you come back as a Ghoul.”
Emelia gulped hard and backed further away.
“We need to let the Guild representatives know about this,” Tobi groaned dejectedly, apparently no keener on interacting with the guild than with the Ghoul itself.
Leaving alongside Tobi, Emelia gave the Ghouls corpse as wide a berth as possible. She had heard enough stories about undead monsters to be terrified of them and decided that she would not leave Tobi’s side until they managed to return to the safety of Sanctuary.
*****
“AHAHAHAHA!” Qreet cackled maniacally as the swamplands rapidly took shape before her. Already able to sense mana, the moment Lash invited Hana to her retinue, every Daemon immediately unlocked the Druid Advanced Class through the shared synergies of our combined party and retinues. Consequently, with no small amount of encouragement from Hana, Qreet and four other one-horned Daemons eagerly accepted the Class and got to work.
In spite of their essences being heavily divided, the Daemons seemed to have no problems maintaining a gruelling development regimen. Which was definitely for the best, since Hana’s presence beyond the Barrier had seemingly driven the monsters in the surrounding swamplands insane.
Drawn like moths to a flame, the wild monsters of the swamp surged towards Hana at the centre of the terraformed territory with suicidal levels of abandon. It took the full deployment of every able-bodied Deep Orc and a full half of the adult Serpent-Kin, to hold the territory while the Druids worked their magic.
With so many monsters assaulting our position and Hana and the Daemon Druids hastily disguised in large robes purchased from the vendor, I had been forced to issue a quest specifically targeting the human soldiers to encourage them to remain within their camp.
Unsurprisingly, according to reports from our scouts, the humans seemed to have leapt at the opportunity and according to the quests instructions, were diligently standing in parade formation and performing marching drills in the confines of their camp. Even though the Exp would likely be minimal, it was still nonetheless free of risk which made it valuable in its way.
Besides, Cpt. Klive and I had come to an agreement that he and his soldiers would remain confined to their current camp while the grounds were developed for their new and more permanent encampment.
I wasn’t a complete idiot, so I made sure that while the army’s permanent encampment would be relatively close, it would still require a somewhat circuitous route along a winding raised pathway in order to approach Sanctuary. While I had been given no reason to suspect Cpt. Klive could not be trusted, I was not willing to be burned for a second time. After all, the adventurer Guild manager had seemed trustworthy too, right up until he wasn’t.
For my part, I wasn’t content to slack off either. This world was a dangerous and violent place, and in order to protect those I cared about and those who depend on me, I would need to embrace those elements fully.
Just as I had made a quest for the humans to keep them holed up in their camp, I had also made a quest for our benefit, awarding bonus Exp for anyone defending Hana based upon their contributions. It was a loophole of sorts I had recognised in the framework of quest giving. Timed events and those based on contributions awarded far more Exp than simply assigning a repeatable kill target. Even though the end result was technically the same, the volume of Exp was around forty percent greater and had additional bonuses for those who ranked the highest.
With three sets of the Eminence Class Ability harvesting bonus Exp and storing it in the Totem, It truly boggled my mind that it was possible to drastically and literally farm Exp like this.
Through the combined efforts of the Daemons below and my own efforts here above the ground, I had already reached level ten and gained two new Class Abilities.
[(Class Ability: War Banner {Rank 0}): Claim dominance over the battlefield and embolden your Allies. Requires a suitable object to serve as your banner. The effect will end if the banner falls or is claimed by an enemy. Expend MP to give all Allies within range of the War Banner the {Brave} or {Stoic} Condition. Maximum number of Banners determined by {Presence} (0:1)]
[(Class Ability: Heart of the Clan {Rank 0}): Your very presence inspires and empowers your Allies. Allies within range benefit from Racial Abilities available through your Primary Settlement Totem. {Willpower} and {Presence} increase the range of the effect.]
I hadn’t quite understood what Heart of the Clan had meant until a lull in the fighting gave me a chance to really think about it. In hindsight, it was obvious. The ability was telling me that it was possible to acquire additional Settlements. How exactly I was meant to go about doing that, I wasn’t really sure, but it certainly made future prospects rather interesting all the same.
Better still, Lash and Hana were both levelling as fast as I was and had gotten interesting abilities of their own.
[(Class Ability: Retribution {Rank 2}): Expend MP to return damage taken against an enemy within range. {Willpower} increases the range and damage of the effect.]
[(Class Ability: Bulwark {Rank 0}): Parry and block enemy attacks with increased {Momentum}. {Strength} increases the effect.]
By all accounts, Lash’s Warden Class was specialised in defence and was becoming even more so with each new ability she gained. On the upside, it provided a reasonable excuse to encourage her to use a shield.
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While Deep Orc armour was thick, the iron plates were reinforced and backed with hardened leather, but it still had a myriad of weak points and exposed surfaces. The addition of even a small shield could make a significant difference.
Reading through Lash’s new abilities also reminded me that I had never actually read Hana’s Arch Druid starting Class Abilities.
[(Class Ability: Plant Growth {Rank 2}): Guide and accelerate the growth of vegetation by expending MP. {Willpower} increases the effect.]
[(Class Ability: Grove Tender {Rank 2}): Form a {Grove} to serve as a natural PMana Well} in a suitable location. Gain increased MP regeneration while within range of the Grove.]
[(Class Ability: Regenerative Regrowth {Rank 2}): Vegetation within range {Regenerates} at an accelerated rate. {Willpower} increases the range of the effect.]
[(Class Ability: Wyrd Wood {Rank 2}): Impart limited sentience to suitable vegetation by expending MP. Maximum number of {Wyrds} is determined by {Willpower} (0/3).]
[(Class Ability: Nature's Own {Rank 0}): Gain substantial resistance to Disease and Poison. {Toughness} and {Willpower} increases the effect.]
Hana’s Arch Druid Class had only gotten stranger. I mean, I couldn’t help but think of the walking tree people from a popular fantasy movie franchise after reading the Wyrd Wood Class Ability. Treants, I think, was the mythological term for them. Unfortunately, with all her mana being spent on terraforming the land, Hana had no real-time for experimenting with the ability. Or so I had assumed.
No less than two minutes after reaching tenth level, Hana briefly redirected her attention to the centre of the terraformed land and pulsed a strong wave of mana that soaked into the ground.
A few moments later, a tiny sapling slowly grew out of the ground and began to emanate mana matching Hana’s own.
Hana strode over to the sapling, knelt down and cradled it lovingly between her hands. Gathering mana in her hands, the sapling within underwent explosive growth and Hana was forced to step backwards. In under a minute, the sapling had swollen into a strange macabre pod and had begun to split open, disgorging a sickeningly sweet-smelling slurry.
All at once, the pod seemed to explode, sending the skin and slurry flying in all directions and revealing a gnarled seed roughly six feet in diameter.
Before I had the chance to ask Hana what the hell she was doing, Hana gathered mana in her right hand again and gently caressed the exposed seed.
Under Hana’s touch, the surface of the seed cracked and pulled apart. Some of the seed casing fell away, but most shrunk back on itself as if withering under an intense heat. The retraction of the shell revealed a tangled mess of what appeared to be roots and branches. However, the branches and roots stiffly began to separate from one another and revealed a roughly humanoid figure.
Not so much concealed by the outer branches and roots as I initially thought, they were evidently part of the creature's body itself. Initially curled in an upright foetal position, with its arms and legs hugged tight to its chest, the Wyrd stiffly began uncurling its limbs and standing under its own weight. A rather impressive feat given that it looked to weigh at least half a ton.
Easily ten-foot-tall or more, the Wyrd somewhat resembled a wiry framed woman crossed with a tree. Although it seemed quite clumsy, the Wyrd nonetheless made its way towards the nearby defensive line with an implacable surety of purpose.
Hana gave her creation a determined nod before returning to her original task.
Curious as to why Hana did not raise a second, I quickly realised that it wasn’t needed.
The Wyrd took to the battle with single-minded determination and ruthless brutality. Crushing and strangling smaller prey underfoot, the Wyrd anchored its roots into the ground and crushed its enemies like a vice. Those facing its grasping hands fared little better. Capable of extending and retracting its arms at will, the Wyrd snatched up any wild monster that came within a dozen feet of it, and tore them in half, emotionlessly discarding the remains before pursuing its next target.
With the Wyrd taking a great deal of pressure off the battle line, there was less of a need for my presence. However, as tempted as I was to leave the fighting to others, I decided that I needed far more practice to temper my aggression. Twice today alone, I had lost track of myself in the bloodshed and violence. Each time, there had been no warning. I would just suddenly become aware of myself again with an unexplainable absence in memory. The only correlation I had found was that it seemed to accompany a prolonged intensity of aggression, but that was not particularly helpful.
With that in mind, I ordered the most tired to step back and recuperate. We were due for a break soon anyway, but recovering the remains of the wild monsters was bound to be a taxing affair and I doubted the Serpent-Kin currently held in reserve would be able to manage it on their own.
Admittedly, killing snakes, crabs, crocodiles and even the Mud Dolls, was a poor substitute for actual weapons practice. Fighting beast type monsters was completely different to fighting humanoid ones with weapons. With how my life was headed, it was the latter I desperately needed more familiarity with.
As Hana, Qreet and the other Daemons mana waned, the scheduled retreat was called and the final sleds carrying retrieved monster corpses were shepherded back to the safety of Sanctuary.
Between the six of them, they had more or less terraformed a patch of swampland half the size of Sanctuary in under four hours of near-continuous effort. Only the promised supply of fresh clean water was yet to be fulfilled, but I doubted it would take Hana long to teach Qreet and the other Daemon Druids the trick and they would have it sorted out in no time.
More importantly than the terraforming project, the absence of Status Alerts made it clear that the Daemons Exp farming down below had come to an end as well. Curious as to why exactly we had been swarmed by the wild monsters to begin with, I went looking for Gric in search of answers. Assumedly, since the Exp was no longer flowing, both he and the other Daemons would be unable to sustain their projected forms for long, so I just needed to seek out the original in our makeshift dungeon.
On my way to the Grove. I noticed a bustling baggage train of Serpent-Kin and Daemons stretching off in the direction of the underground tunnel. The sheer volume of meat, hide and bone had already formed a veritable mountain near the cooking fires, where the valiant volunteers doggedly set about butchering the best cuts of meat and discarding the offal into the fishing pond.
With no need to go fishing, the denizens of the pond were given free rein to dispose of the discarded innards.
I couldn’t help but snort derisively at myself as I recalled how I had once been concerned we would not be able to provide enough food for everyone to eat. It seemed almost perverse that we now had more food than we could possibly eat before it went bad. It was not a bad problem to have, considering the available means of waste disposal, but such overabundance was difficult to get my head around.
Entering the Grove, my attention was immediately drawn to Ril and Toofy, who were playing by the fountain. Or, more accurately, Ril playing in the fountain and Toofy handstand walking along the rim.
To my knowledge, Ril had not left the fountain since shortly after returning to Sanctuary, so Toofy had not left the immediate vicinity either. Clutching the magical jewel possessively, Ril nervously watched me pass by the fountain and even surreptitiously distanced herself from the rim as if fearing I would take it from her.
Letting out a sigh, I shook my head and continued towards the underground prison. Currently home to only the npc Tailor Vendor and the Angel. Each of them were afforded rather sizable accommodations. Although I doubted either of them truly appreciated it.
Entering the Angel Orphiel’s cell, I found Gric was exactly where I had last seen him, however, the Angel seemed...off. Eyes wide and staring at the wall, the only sign the Angel was even alive came from the nearly imperceptible trembling of his lips.
Having left the Angel in Gric’s care, I was beginning to feel a niggling sense of guilt. All the more so since I had used its advice to cure Lash and then left it to...whatever it was Gric was doing to it.
I roughly cleared my throat to get Gric’s attention, “Gric? I want a report on what happened down below,” I commanded authoritatively.
Gric blinked and took a moment to get his bearings. “Lord?!” He grinned toothily upon having noticed my presence, “The below? Of course!”
Orphiel gasped and began gulping down air as if he had very nearly drowned.
“It was a trap Lord, part of the dungeon,” Gric grinned wider, “But the trap was not intended for you or indeed, for us at all. Merely a happy accident.”
“What? How does a trap send infinite waves of enemies at us like that?” I demanded incredulously, more in terms of general principle than lack of understanding. After all, I had already lived through three such examples already.
Gric shrugged, “It is the Labyrinth’s will,” he replied somewhat dismissively.
“Tch...” Orphiel cringed but said nothing.
“Ah, yes. I have good news for you, Lord. The ‘Fallen’ Angel Orphiel has seen the error in his ways and wishes to serve you!” Emphasising the word Fallen, Gric seemed particularly ecstatic by the news, while Orphiel made no signs one way or the other.
“Is this true?” I tried my best to keep my voice free of emotion. I was already feeling guilty over leaving Orphiel in Gric’s care, but I didn’t want to give him any bargaining leverage.
“You may speak,” Gric encouraged the Fallen Angel.
Cringing, Orphiel made to speak and winced.
Gric chuckled, “Speak,” he repeated.
“I will serve...” Orphiel croaked quietly.
“Can we trust him?” I asked Gric bluntly, “What will stop him from betraying us the moment the collar is removed?”
“He will swear a Soul Oath of Service. To betray you Lord would result in his immediate death and indefinite annihilation,” Gric explained the last with a disturbingly intense degree of pleasure.
“But it isn’t like the collar right? He won’t just immediately die, or have his brain melted by disobeying me?” I asked pointedly. I would honestly rather kill the Fallen Angel here and now, than to subject it to literal slavery. “So long as the oath prevents him from plotting against us or betraying us to outsiders, then that is enough.”
Orphiel looked shocked, as did Gric.
“My Lord,” Gric anxiously flexed his fingers, “The hosts of Elysium are treacherous and prone to all manner of deviousness if left unchecked-” He glared balefully at Orphiel, “-so it is best to keep them on a tight leash!”
Orphiel flinched bodily and shrunk away from Gric. The behaviour only exacerbated my mounting sense of guilt in having let things get so far out of hand. After all, the Fallen Angel seemed to be no older than fifteen years old, and was so obviously traumatised that I couldn’t help but nervously wonder if this world had its own form of S.W.A.T.
“No, Gric. So long as, Orphiel... So long as he swears a binding oath not to betray us or attempt to bring us harm, he will be free to leave,” I had made my decision. Objectively an emotionally charged one, but I would much rather live with the consequences than continue being party to...whatever this had been.
Gric frowned with intense dissatisfaction but tactfully held his tongue.
“You would let me leave?” Orphiel croaked in disbelief.
“Yes,” I agreed bluntly, “You have attacked my people unprovoked, but the harm done is already removed, and I suspect Gric has already exacted a punishment fitting that crime,” I explained dryly. “If you swear upon your soul to leave me and my people be, you will be allowed to leave.”
The Fallen Angel said nothing, his eyes stared intensely into mine as if searching for something. Having found what he was looking for, or perhaps having given up, Orphiel broke eye contact and cast his gaze downward. “I swear to this,” he whispered, yet the words boomed as loud as thunder.
The Fallen Angel radiated a faint golden light that quickly took the form of interlinked chains over his body briefly before they disappeared.
“Is that it?” I asked sceptically.
“Yes Lord,” Gric confirmed somewhat disappointedly.
“I want to stay!” Orphiel’s sudden outburst caught both Gric and myself off guard.
“What?” I demanded incredulously.
The Fallen Angel gulped dryly and shrunk back under my bared suspicion, “I want to stay...” Orphiel repeated, “I-If there is a chance I can reverse the wrong maybe...”
Gric noticeably relaxed, “He believes he can return to grace,” he snorted in amusement.
Orphiel clenched his fists determinedly but said nothing.
“Lord,” Gric stepped part way between myself and Orphiel to seize my attention, “This is actually a valuable opportunity. Recruiting one of the fallen to the fold will almost certainly unlock Rulership Class advancements for us both!”
Orphiel winced, but again, said nothing.
Besides Gric’s sudden excitement, I didn’t see any immediate problems with the idea of the Fallen Angel joining Sanctuary. Whatever debt he owed, I had little doubt that Gric had made him pay for it tenfold. The fact that Orphiel had also already sworn an oath on the pain of his immediate death not to betray or harm us was a point strongly in his favour. The possibility that he could still find a way to serve as a spy existed, but if Gric had guessed Orphiel’s intentions correctly, then there was actually nothing to fear.
“What was your oath?” I asked curiously, wanting to confirm my suspicions, “The one that caused your..fall from grace.”
Orphiel shuddered and hung his head in shame, “I...I harmed an innocent...” He whispered despondently.
Gric sneered contemptuously but said nothing.
I had thought as much. Whatever beef existed between Angels and Daemons in this world, Orphiel had apparently not anticipated his oath being broken by accidentally harming a Daemon. As savage as the Daemons could be, it seemed weird that Orphiel would openly attack them like that unless he assumed they were ‘guilty’ in the first place.
“Why did you attack the Daemons then? Why did you assume they were not innocent?” I prompted. There was something more to this rivalry, and I needed to hear the other side of it before asking Gric.
“It has always been so...” Orphiel replied bitterly, “They have always served the most vile and despicable of masters. To commit slaughter and genocide at their masters whim is their most ardent pleasure!”
I flinched. I just couldn’t help it. I knew enough of the Daemons to know better than argue with the Fallen Angel. If I ordered them to, the Daemons would do just as he said and worse if I willed it so. “But you would join alongside them?” I asked warily.
The fire left Orphiel’s eyes and he hung his head, “Yes...” He replied resignedly, “I have no other path left to take...Better to seek my redemption in perdition, than seek Absolution in Elysium”
The way Orphiel spoke the last portion sent a shiver down my spine.
What the hell was wrong with this world’s Angels?!
“May I?!” Gric asked eagerly, positively brimming with excitement.
I was about to say yes, but I noticed Orphiel still had the Slave collar around his neck. “Remove the collar first,” I commanded, “Then if Orphiel truly wishes to join us, you can extend the invitation.” While I didn’t doubt Gric’s intentions, I still felt like it would be best if I kept a closer eye on his activities moving forward.
Gric complied and removed Orphiel’s collar, offering it back to me.
Reluctantly accepting the collar, if only to remove further temptation from Gric, I motioned for him to proceed.
[Settlement Alert {Sanctuary}: {Orphiel - Fallen Angel} was recruited by {Underlord Gric} as a minion.]
For a moment, nothing really happened, then Gric began to smile.
“Yesssss!” Gric pumped his fists in excitement, “Lord! I can now arbitrate summoning contracts on behalf of our minions!”
I just stared blankly at Gric and waited for him to elaborate.
“Lord? Are you not pleased?” Gric asked worriedly.
“I don’t know what arbitrating those contracts means Gric. Why would you think I did?” I demanded dryly.
Gric seemed to take the criticism in stride, “It means that I may now accept and reject attempted summons on behalf of all lower-ranked Daemons! Should you wish it, we can serve as both mercenaries and spies throughout the Labyrinths!” His enthusiasm ebbed somewhat, “Though it will be limited by the scope of our perceived value of course...”
“Are Summoner and Pact Binder classes so common as to allow for that?” I asked dubiously. I had not seen a single adventurer like that on the first floor, nor heard Nadine, Clarice or Emelia speak of them either. Considering how monumentally overpowered the summoning and Pact Binder Classes had proven themselves to be, it seemed unlikely for them to fly under the radar like that.
Gric’s grin took a sudden manic intensity, “Not yet!” He admitted, “But they could be!”
He was right...Unlocking those classes had only two requirements so far as I could tell. First, to witness a summoning first hand, and second, to interact with a summoned creature. The problem with this method was that it would mean teaching someone the Classes in the first place. Once the Classes were out there, it would be almost impossible for them not to spread, but was that a good thing?
I supposed that given the limited supply of Daemons to fill the contracted roles, it would stop an over-saturation. I mean, Asra had been popping manastones like candy to fuel his Daemon horde, and I was quite sure that the Daemons summoned copies were doing likewise just in order to sustain their mana fueled projections.
“Gric? Is there such a thing as consumable summoning items?” I asked curiously. I just had a brilliant idea on how we could spread our potential influence beyond this floor of the Labyrinth without directly relying on the human army. If there was one thing that always seemed to be in short supply, it was healers. So far as I knew, the human army hadn’t brought any with them, and unless I missed my guess, it was because no Surgeon would consider the available payment from the army to be worth the risk. But there was no risk for the Daemons. At worst their projections would just disappear...
Gric nodded eagerly, his eyes damn near sparkling, “Yes Lord! Provided suitable materials, both myself and Asra are capable of this!”
“What do you need?” I demanded excitedly.
“Precious little Lord! Just blood, manastones and something to write upon should suffice!” Gric replied with equal enthusiasm.
“Blood?” That gave me pause for a moment.
Gric looked somewhat confused, “There is nothing else suitable to write with,” he explained pragmatically.
“Oh...” For a moment there, I had seriously reconsidered the whole Daemon summoning thing...
“Provided a manastone is sufficiently powerful, it can be used to store a delayed or conditional use of certain Class Abilities,” Gric explained cheerfully, “Writing instructions isn’t strictly necessary, but adds to the aesthetic!”
“Wait...Is that all?” I demanded incredulously.
Gric shrugged, “The manastone provides the raw power, the Class Ability provides the structure. What else would be needed beyond that?” He replied.
“How are they meant to activate it then?” I pressed, clutching at straws, fully aware of my own ignorance.
“Injecting mana is sufficient to trigger the effect,” Gric replied helpfully.
“What about the staff from the dungeon?” I asked, “Why was that so different?”
Gric nodded in acknowledgement and gave Orphiel a sideways glance, “That item was created by the Labyrinth, it was not created the same way, but you could emulate its effects well enough.”
“Wait...” How had I skipped straight to Daemon summoning and ignored one of the most practical uses, “Your saying that Ril could make another Portal staff if she chooses that Class?”
Gric gave me a strange look for a moment and then nodded, “Lord, Ril has already chosen the Nexus Binder Advanced Class. She confirmed her choice shortly after your mandate for self-determination...”
I should have expected that...
Orphiel furrowed his brow but said nothing.
Gric noticed the reaction and chuckled, “Yes! Do you now see the glory of our Lord?” He demanded, “To determine our own abilities with which to better serve his interests! No Archon of the heavenly host, nor Monarch of the great pit would dare entrust such a burden upon their servants! Yet such is the faith our Lord places in us!”
I couldn’t help but cringe at Gric’s misplaced proselytising. Making the Daemons responsible for their own Class selection was to ease my own guilt over otherwise controlling their very lives. It was a small consolation to my conscience, but Orphiel didn’t seem to see it that way.
“I can choose my own Classes?” Orphiel asked in a hushed gasp. He hastily covered his mouth and glanced fearfully around the surrounding darkness.
I nodded, “You can ask Gric or Hana about what Classes we have available and can teach y-”
“I want to be a Bard!” Orphiel blurted out suddenly.
I just started at Orphiel for a moment before fully realising what he had said. “A Bard?” I asked uncertainly, “Like a musician? Sings and plays different instruments?”
Orphiel nodded determinedly.
“Uh...Okay, if we figure out how to unlock that Class, you are free to learn it,” I agreed bemusedly.
Tears welled in Orphiel’s eyes and he fell to his knees, “Thank you, most gracious Lord!”
“You’re welcome,” I replied a little nervously.
“Accept!” Orphiel cried out in what sounded like desperate happiness.
It took me a moment to realise what had happened, but then it suddenly clicked. Orphiel had the Class unlocked already...
[Orphiel - Fallen Angel Novitiate: 3 ] [HP: 20/20] [MP: 1/18 (23) ]
[Tim’s Minion. Minion of Sanctuary.] [Class: Bard 0. +1 Presence, +5 MP] [Exp:0/5000 ]
[Strength: 10 ]
[Agility: 12 ]
[Toughness: 10 ]
[Intelligence: 10 ]
[Willpower: 8 ]
[Presence: 15 (16)]
[(Class Ability: Summon Instrument): Summon a copy of any known {Instrument}. {Summoned Instruments} increases the range and effect of {Bard Class Abilities}.]
[(Class Ability: Scarper 0): Expend MP to intuitively recognise the shortest route out of a dwelling. {Presence} increases the speed of donning and retrieving equipment.]
[(Class Ability: Inspire Allies 0): Expend MP and perform to inspire allies, increasing their damage dealt, reducing damage taken, and negating {Fatigued}. {Presence} increases the range of the effect.]
[(Racial Ability: Fallen Judgement {Rank 2}): {Curse} an enemy with altered memories from their past, forcing them to confront their sins. {Presence} increases the difficulty of overcoming the {Curse} on their own as well as the difficulty in dispelling the {Curse} through alternate means.]
[(Racial Ability: Fallen Grace {Rank 2}): Expend MP to remove damage from a living target, but take a portion of that same damage. {Willpower} decreases the damage taken.]
[(Racial Ability: Fallen Divinity {Rank 0): Increases resistance to spells and replenishes MP when resisting spells. {Willpower} increases the effects.]
[Class Qualifications: Taskmaster, Slaver, Minstrel. ]
Looking over Orphiel’s Status took me at least a few minutes. I just kept being drawn back to the Bard Class Abilities. Inspire Allies seemed pretty self-explanatory and ‘on the level’, but Scarper, and the fact that it had multiple Ranks, beggared belief. Unless I completely missed the mark, Scarper was designed for Bard’s to bolt from someone's bedroom at incredibly short notice.
Why the hell did the Labyrinth have a Class Ability like that floating around?!
Leaving Gric and Orphiel behind, I left the prison and went to take a drink from one of the spouts pouring into the fountain.
Just as before, Toofy was still playing on the rim of the fountain, while RIl swam about in the water.
“You know,” I said loudly enough that Ril had no excuse not to hear, “I could probably make a necklace for that jewel so you don’t have to keep it in your hands.” Ril was smart for her age, incredibly smart, but she had the same relative ignorance as the other monsters in that she knew precious little beyond what the Labyrinth had imprinted in her brain. Older monsters of course accrued knowledge just as humans do, but Ril was barely a week old.
Obviously intrigued, Ril swam closer. “Tim can make a necklace like Mama’s?” She asked curiously.
Glancing over at the silver belt buckle tied to a leather strap hanging around Toofy’s neck, I nodded. “I made it,” I explained with a small grin.
“Really?!” Ril closed the distance between us with a powerful kick of her legs and a flick of her finned tail. Somewhat resembling the dorsal finned tail of the Hydra, I was a little surprised I hadn’t noticed it sooner since it was easily equal in length to her height. “Tim will make a necklace for RIl?” She asked excitedly.
“Sure, I just need some materials. I’ll be back in a minute,” I patted Ril’s head and moved off to the storeroom to find some leather or hide cord. Returning to the fountain, I made a small net from the cord and left two long lengths about a foot long each on either side. Somewhat resembling a sling, I offered it to Ril. “You just need to put the jewel in the net then tie the cords together tight so it won’t fall out,” I explained.
Ril had watched me work, so I wasn’t surprised when she eagerly and excitedly placed the jewel in the net, tied it off and then draped the necklace around her neck before tying off the cords behind her neck.
“LORD!” Wraithe, one of the single-horned Daemons rushed into the Grove, her bestial features twisted in an expression of anger, “Sanctuary is under attack!”
Her words caught me off guard, but I had already gotten to my feet and begun to move, “Where?!” I demanded.
“The eastern gate Lord!” Wraithe chittered excitedly and pointed towards Sanctuary’s only gate, “They attacked us with ranged weapons! Four guards were injured but I stitched them right up!” She declared proudly.
“Are the enemies still out there?!” I demanded, letting Wraithe’s class choice fall by the wayside as I tried to focus on what was important.
“Yes Lord! But we prioritised the lives of your minions, as ordered. No one has been allowed to attempt engaging the enemy force!” Wraithe spoke the words with pride and a hint of expectation.
“Good,” I commented, and noted the expression of satisfaction on her face in response. “Where is-”
“What is going on?!” Lash demanded, already fully armoured and rushing towards us.
“Enemies attacked the gate,” I replied dourly, “I was just about to organise a counter-attack. Thoughts?” Lash was bound to have far more tactical insight into this sort of thing, so I wasn’t just going to ignore her out of hand.
“They are skirmishing? Or raiding?” Lash demanded.
I looked pointedly at Wraithe, “You said they were just firing from a distance right?”
Wraithe nodded, “Indeed Lord! The guards called them crossed bows,” she added helpfully.
I couldn’t help but wince a little upon hearing that. Depending on the head used on their ammunition, we could be in for a very rough time.
Lash nodded sombrely, “They do not intend to fight,” she concluded, “Leaving Sanctuary is a mistake. We will chase and they will run. More will attack...”
Not really having any ranged weapons to speak of put us at a huge disadvantage. “What species of monster are they?” I asked hurriedly, realising I probably should have led with that question.
Wraithe’s eyes flickered briefly to Lash before returning to me again, “We believe they are Deep Orcs, Lord.”
Lash’s expression turned bitter, but she said nothing.
We arrived at the gate, and just as I had hoped, Hana's Wyrd, the guards and other volunteers had blocked off most of the entrance with hauling sleds turned onto their sides.
“Lord! Your safety!” One of the volunteers hurriedly stripped off his helmet and pressed it into my hands, revealing the face of a grizzled old man.
As much as I wanted to refuse, I knew better. Even if my skin was practically arrow proof, one lucky shot through my eye socket or ear canal would almost certainly be a death sentence. So I donned the helmet and tied off the leather strap.
“How many?” Lash demanded, effortlessly taking command.
“I count twenty,” One Deep Orc offered.
“Thirty!” added another.
Lash nodded, seemingly taking the contradictory information in stride. After thinking for a moment, she turned her attention to me instead, “I want to outflank them,” Lash stated bluntly.
“How?” I asked curiously.
“Set the humans on them,” Lash replied matter of factly, “Issue a quest while baiting the traitors!” Far from being conflicted at attacking those who had once been her people, Lash seemed incensed. There was an undeniable logic to her intended plan though, and I couldn’t think of anything better.
Issuing a quest to the humans specifically to repel the invading forces assailing the gate, I then temporarily disabled the garrison quest that had been keeping them holed up for half the day.
Within minutes I heard a muffled horn call from the south.
Were it not for the fact that the human soldiers had access to competitively ranged weapons to fight the Deep Orcs with, and shields, I would have felt bad for them. But that middling crisis of conscience evaporated as the human soldiers engaged the Deep Orc skirmishers.
The few faces I could make out from the defensive vantage of the gate looked like they had been taken straight off a wartime propaganda poster. Far from being scared, as I had expected them to be, even the rank and file bore grins of eagerness and excitement, like they were off on some grand adventure...