Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 53 - The darkest dungeon - Part Four

Gritting my teeth, I pulled the javelin out of my right thigh and dropped it to the floor.

Another hidden trap had been triggered during our hurried flight from the room of statues and I had been unlucky enough to be caught in its path. The wound wasn’t deep, but it served as a reminder that I could still be harmed despite the dangers possessing a scale better suited for human targets.

Pushing through the next door, I closed it behind us and took in our new environment.

Just like every other room thus far, the dimensions and base construction were almost identical. However, this time each wall held a door, offering three new directions to pursue. The floor itself gave immediate cause for concern. Each tile had a two-inch hole at its centre, and a handful of tiles closest to us had old blood stains impregnated in the stone.

“Safe ta’ say this is a trap,” Mortimer grumbled and waved expansively at the room with his left hand.

“A hidden pathway trap!” Teressa added excitedly while deliberately shifting the unconscious fairy away from the bars of his cage by shaking them both.

“Only one door has a complete path,” Sebet interjected hurriedly, “The other two are incomplete and would require immense skill to traverse without flight or a knowledge of the route.”

I looked down at Sebet, “Do you know the routes?” I asked curiously.

Sebet shook her head, “Unfortunately, no, Great One. Just knowledge of the trap and truth of the paths.”

I turned my attention to the tiles and frowned. They were too small for me to traverse without hanging out in every direction. Depending on how the triggering mechanisms worked, I might get impaled regardless of following the correct path or not.

“The other doors are viable pathways though?” I pressed warily while considering an alternate route, “They would let us continue deeper into the dungeon?”

Sebet was quiet for a moment. “Yes, I believe so,” she replied confidently, “It is just the route-”

“And you said flying was an acceptable means of circumventing the trap?” I pressed again.

“Well yes,” Sebet answered with a small degree of confusion that turned to irritation, “The Angels servants would simply be able to skip the traps outright. So long as they were powerful enough.”

“Interesting...” I picked up one of the Swordsmen and took a few moments to get a good feel for his weight.

“Ah, if I might volunteer Majesty?” Gregory interjected tactfully, “I believe I would have a much greater chance of success in adjusting course if necessary.”

“Alright,” I agreed somewhat reluctantly and put down the Swordsmen.

“If I might stand on your Majesty’s hand as you throw me underhand, I believe I should be able to land beside the leftmost door,” Gregory added while taking a few moments to stretch and adjust the buckles of his armour.

“Very well,” I knelt down and flattened my palm face up toward the ceiling.

Gregory wasted no time in gingerly walking onto my hand, squatting down and taking a hold of my fingers to help keep his balance while I rose back into a standing position.

After a few practice swings, I counted down from three and lobbed Gregory underarm toward the leftmost door.

Springing off my hand at the last moment, Gregory vaulted through the air, twisting and arching his back like a cat before seizing hold of the leftmost door’s handle and arresting his momentum.

Teressa gave a hearty cheer in celebration while Mortimer grumbled quietly about taking his chances at finding a path across the open floor.

Gregory gingerly eased himself down to the floor and tested the blank tiles surrounding him. “They appear to be safe, Majesty!” He called out supportively, “I should be able to assist those who follow!”

I nodded and gave Gregory a thumbs-up before picking up one of the Archers. I wanted to send over the expendable blanks first so they could all just catch Teressa and Mortimer at the end.

It was probably just as well that I used the blanks for practice. Even with Gregory’s assistance, one of the Archer’s almost lost his head after stumbling and triggering a trap which made a thick spike erupt from the floor less than an inch from his head.

Next, I sent Sebet over with Mortimer and the fairy with Teressa.

There was precious little room left afterwards, so we had no choice but to open the door and have everyone else migrate through before I could attempt leaping over to the safe landing space on my own. Stretching my legs, I was profoundly grateful for the time I had spent exercising. The door was only about twenty feet away, so I knew I should be able to make that distance without any real trouble.

It was stopping that concerned me.

Moving as far back as I could, I took two quick steps forward and jumped.

It immediately became obvious that I had overestimated my capabilities. I was considerably stronger and larger than I used to be, but my increased mass gave gravity that much more of hold over me in turn.

I landed prematurely and narrowly avoided impaling my groin as a thick spike shot up and between my legs, briefly grazing my stomach before retracting back into the floor. In my uncoordinated state, I resorted to crashing into the doorway to arrest my forward momentum.

Only missing a couple of HP for the mistake, I decided to take the shortcut as a win and a warning not to be so cocky. I was still uncertain how far healing in this world could go, and didn’t feel like testing it by reversing an accidental gelding.

The corridor we now found ourselves in was positively riddled with traps, causing our forward progress to stall outright. It felt like close to an hour before Mortimer signalled that the way was clear enough to risk moving forward again.

It looked like a full third of the tiles were involved in triggering one or more of the traps. Assuming Mortimer had found them all, and that those he found were in fact not false positives.

Mortimer had barely avoided a pair of scything blades that sprang from the walls and ran half the length of the corridor before disappearing again. Crouching to mark one of the traps had caused the blades to sweep a few inches above his head.

“Must be a timed trap o’ some kind,” Mortimer complained loudly, “Stops yer from takin’ it nice an’ slow, makes yer rush an’ make mistakes.”

“Then we have to go faster then,” I sighed in irritation.

Sure enough, the Swordsmen managed to make it to the far door intact. However, the pair of blades swept down the passageway a few moments later, making it clear that there was not much of a buffer.

“Do you think I can damage the blades?” I asked the group at large.

“Even if they are magical, they should still be susceptible to damage,” Teressa commented thoughtfully, “And they did not appear to be particularly thick...”

“It could be worth a try,” Gregory agreed, “But we might be able to avoid the risk altogether by moving faster. If we opened the door, then your Majesty would just be able to run straight through.”

“Perhaps,” I agreed, “Assuming the next room isn’t like the statue room.”

Gregory frowned, “That’s a valid consideration,” he agreed worriedly.

“I’ll try damaging the blades first,” I decided and unsheathed my machete.

Taking several calming breaths and gathering some mana, I made my way down the passageway. Bracing the far end of my machete with my left hand, I knelt down and angled my machete to match the trap blade to blade. I was hoping that the superior thickness of my machete combined with the momentum of the trap would snap the trap's blade, but I would settle for stopping the blade’s internal mechanism.

It didn’t take long before the blades erupted from the wall and began racing toward me.

*Clank*

The rightmost blade impacted against my machete with the force of an Orc charge. I held my ground and warily pushed back, testing the integrity of the blade and the strength of the trap’s mechanisms.

Meanwhile, the left blade sheared past me and then retracted into the wall.

The blade continued to shudder against my machete and I could hear a faint groaning noise coming from the long thin hole in the right wall beside me. After holding the blade back for a couple of minutes, I pushed it back about a foot and heard a dull thunk sound that was then followed by a high-pitched whine. The blade lost all of its resistance and I watched it slide back several feet away from my machete.

I held my position long enough for the other blade to make two more passes before deciding that the mechanism was derailed or badly damaged enough to prevent it from reactivating.

I repeated the exercise on the left blade, only this time taking a more aggressive approach and pushing back against the blade from the beginning. The blade skidded backwards after only a few seconds of concerted pushing.

Once I was sure the blades were out of commission for good, I set them at two different points along the passage and made my way over to the door to the next room.

“Tha’ doors trapped...” Mortimer declared in surprise and pointed to a small needle attached to the door handle that would have otherwise been hidden from view, “Probably poisoned...” He eyed the needle closely and nodded, “Definitely poisoned.”

For the sake of safety, I had two of the Swordsmen open the door.

“Uh oh...” Sebet exclaimed nervously as the door swung wide and revealed a large crystal orb mounted on a pedestal in the centre of the room.

I felt a familiar pressure begin to build in my head and was momentarily distracted.

“We need to proceed with haste!” Sebet demanded insistently.

I took a step forward and paused in confusion as the room became much smaller and chillingly familiar. I could still see the cold dark stone floor, walls and ceiling of the dungeon, but there was an afterimage superimposed over the top of it.

A room with swirling waves and large untamed dunes painted on the walls and a large four poster bed set against one wall. The bed was empty but the sheets and blanket were disturbed in such a way that it was obvious it had been occupied only moments before.

“This isn’t real,” Gregory stated flatly.

“It’s another illusion trap,” Sebet confirmed, “We need to leave!”

Beneath the superimposed image of the bedroom, I could see desiccated corpses abandoned in the corners of the room.

I felt the pressure on my mind grow in intensity.

The corpses momentarily flickered out of existence but reappeared moments later.

Looking for the door that would let us out of the room, I froze as I smelled a faint trace of lavender.

“Tim? Is that you honey?” A familiar voice called out happily.

My eyes were drawn toward a normal-sized wooden door with a worn brass handle. It was slightly ajar and revealed a familiar-looking hallway beyond.

“If you wanna get changed, I’m making us a picnic to take down to the beach,” the voice continued despite my lack of a response.

The pressure intensified.

I turned my attention toward the crystal orb and scowled.

The image of the room fluctuated and grew darker.

The bed was no longer empty, but I refused to look at the occupant directly.

“Majesty? We-” Gregory’s voice trailed off abruptly as the knuckles in my hands crackled ominously.

I stalked toward the crystal orb with my teeth bared, “How dare you...” I hissed while gathering mana into my right hand.

The pressure intensified for a moment before dipping again.

The crystal orb and pedestal were replaced with the image of a frail middle-aged woman in a worn nightgown, robe and straw sun hat. “Tim? What are you doing?” She asked fearfully, “What’s going on? Where are we?”

I felt a cold wave of unbridled rage sweep through my body and abruptly alleviate the pressure in my mind.

*Crack*

The woman and the false image of the room disappeared and revealed the broken remains of the crystal orb sitting on the pedestal and scattered around it.

It took several minutes before I was able to calm myself down and pay attention to what the others were doing.

The Summoned blanks were standing around with listless expressions on their faces, while Gregory was staring at me with great concern.

“It was another illusion trap,” Gregory explained in a somewhat subdued tone, “Besides our guide, Teressa was the only one unaffected...”

“Nasty piece of work,” Mortimer hissed and spat at the ground in disgust.

“Indeed,” Gregory agreed before seeming to struggle with what he wanted to say next. “Majesty, are you alright?”

I grunted in the affirmative, but only because I didn’t trust myself to speak. The trap had tried, and failed, to replicate a phantom of my deceased mother and a room from her house. Reflecting on what had transpired, I realised that all semblance of detail had been outright missing.

“Why use such a flawed illusion?...” I muttered rhetorically, not expecting an answer and only trying to vent my feelings.

“That was the most powerful illusion trap in the dungeon...” Sebet squeaked in what sounded like a combination of fear and awe.

“Indeed, Majesty,” Gregory agreed, “I have not felt such a powerful and aggressive illusion before in my life.”

“His Majesty’s protection likely left no options besides aggression,” Teressa commented with a thoughtful expression, “Illusions aren’t intended to compete against so many targets simultaneously,” she looked pointedly toward the Summoned Swordsmen and Archers, “Normally Summoned creatures aren’t targeted, but I think the trap wasn’t smart enough to differentiate.”

“What was it trying to do?” I still didn’t understand how the trap was meant to hurt us.

“It’s meant to keep you here,” Sebet explained somewhat hesitantly and pointed toward the desiccated remains in one of the corners of the room, “It wouldn’t have had to do anything else if it had worked. You would eventually starve to death or be slain when the Guardian returns...or anyone else would have been,” Sebet amended hurriedly.

“We should get moving,” I sighed, uncomfortable with the idea of the Guardian respawning and hunting us. I felt confident that I could defeat the Guardian in a fair fight, even without Shiverfang, but I doubted the dungeon would allow for a fair fight.

“The door’s trapped,” Mortimer chuckled and scratched at his chin thoughtfully while nodding toward the lower section of the door, “Somethin’s behind a hidden panel.”

“Best guess?” Gregory asked, all business again.

“Nother blade trap maybe?” Mortimer hedged dubiously, “Seems right enough.”

“We should try and open it from the side then,” I suggested, volunteering myself in the process since I would be the only one capable of still reaching the handle and being able to open the door.

With no one else able to provide a better alternative besides treating the Swordsmen like red shirts, which I was opposed to on general principle, I proceeded to open the door as planned.

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Contrary to all our expectations, the hidden panel only Mortimer had been able to see, lunged out of the door and launched itself across the room with enough force to shatter against the wall.

Inspecting the now concave segment of the door revealed nothing to explain how or why the stone panel could have been triggered or launched, leaving the thoroughly dissatisfying assumption that it had to have been magic.

Even more disconcerting was learning that that passage beyond did not appear to be trapped at all.

Mortimer shrugged it off, “Might jus’ be to throw us off an’ lower our guard,” he suggested sceptically from the far end of the passageway.

Even after catching him up, I still couldn’t believe that the passage had been entirely bereft of traps. Most likely, we had simply failed to detect and trigger it.

My paranoia only heightened upon Mortimer announcing that the door appeared to be devoid of traps as well.

Opening the door revealed the potential reason why the designer of the dungeon felt it necessary to trap the corridor and door.

The room beyond was nothing particularly special either. It was furnished like a lounge, with a number of large chairs set around a lit brazier in the centre of the room.

“Another trap?” Gregory asked, directing the question toward Sebet in particular.

“Not exactly,” Sebet replied, “It’s a recuperation space for regaining your strength.”

“How is that a trap?” Gregory demanded incredulously.

“It’s rather well documented that adventurers' fatalities increase dramatically after encountering a rest stop such as this,” Teressa chimed in happily, “In our instance, there is the Guardian’s respawn to worry about as well. Time spent recuperating is time not spent clearing the dungeon.”

“True enough,” Gregory agreed with a sigh, “So what, this is a checkpoint of some kind?”

Teressa shook her head, “Not necessarily. Most dungeons follow their own rules-”

“We are near the end,” Sebet interjected, “The Angel that built this dungeon always has the recuperation room a couple of rooms away from the end.”

“So the traps and the rooms are going to become more dangerous?” I asked, repeating what Sebet had mentioned at the beginning but wanted confirmation.

“Just so, Great One,” Sebet replied respectfully, “And there is something else. I do not know what form the final chamber will take, but the challenge will involve some form of sacrifice. The Angels had been very particular on that point...”

“What kind of sacrifice?” I pressed warily.

Sebet fidgeted nervously inside of her cage, “I do not know for certain...” She hedged anxiously.

I motioned for her to continue.

“Living sacrifice wouldn’t be beyond them...” Sebet admitted, “It’s what the dungeons are for, after all...The humans are nothing but food and entertainment to them.”

“As opposed to how Devils see humans?” I countered curiously.

Sebet looked mortified, “We are upfront about what we are! Contracts are sacred! An exchange deemed fair by both parties! Those pretentious chickens will lie and manipulate you for no other reason than to satiate their ego! We are nothing alike!” Her anger abated quite suddenly and turned to fear, “I uh...that is to say...With all due respect, Great One...”

I waved away the apology, it wasn’t necessary. “I don’t think we need a break. So we should probably keep going.”

With only one door presenting a way of moving forward, Mortimer grouchily set to work searching for possible traps.

*click*

“Bugger-” Mortimer’s headless body fell to the ground and disintegrated as a pair of scything blades slowly retracted back into the door.

“Did anyone see what triggered the trap?” Gregory asked calmly.

Teressa shook her head, “I did hear a clicking noise though,” she provided helpfully.

“Me too,” I agreed. Concentrating I gathered most of my mana to re-Summon Mortimer’s projection. I would have been opposed to subjecting him to such a violent death for a second time, but he had accepted the risks.

*Tingling*

Mortimer materialised with a sheepish expression on his face, “I uh...might have gotten a little ahead of myself there,” he admitted before cautiously moving toward the door for a second time.

I sat down on the floor to relax while my mana regenerated. “We can probably circumvent the trap the same way as the last one, right?” I asked warily, “Assuming there aren’t other traps.”

“Perhaps,” Gregory agreed somewhat reluctantly. No doubt uncomfortable with the idea of placing myself in harm's way.

“Quiet!” Mortimer growled while cautiously creeping toward the door on his hands and knees.

Ten minutes passed before Mortimer identified the trigger for the scissoring blade trap. Instead of a single tile serving as a pressure plate, six tiles collectively shared the load and triggered the blades on a short delay.

Furthermore, the door handle had several small needles worked into its inner edge. Each of which was poisoned.

After some consideration, I hooked my machete through the iron loop of the door handle and used it to open the door without touching any part of it myself.

The moment the door was opened to the point of fully revealing the passage beyond, a hail of darts flew past the door and clattered into the wall opposite the passage.

Tempted to see where the darts had come from, I was about to peek around the door when several javelins whistled past my face and shattered against the far wall.

“Definitely trapped,” Mortimer commented dryly before cautiously peeking into the passageway for himself, “Oh...Yeah...Definitely trapped...” He scuttled away from the passage before getting to his feet, “Yeah, so, we can’t go down that way,” Mortimer stated bluntly with absolute conviction.

“It’s that bad?” I asked somewhat sceptically in spite of trusting his abilities.

Mortimer nodded emphatically, “Too many traps,” he shrugged, “We should just backtrack-”

“You can’t,” Sebet interjected anxiously, “You literally can’t. The doors have been locking behind you. The only way forward is...well...forward.”

“If there are too many to avoid, then we may have to trigger them deliberately and move forward while the traps reset,” Gregory suggested dourly while approaching the passageway to take a look for himself. “Only your Majesty needs to make it to the other side,” he stated flatly, “We can all just be re-Summoned on the other side. After our current projections are dismissed,” Gregory added after catching my disapproving stare.

Redshirt attrition was bad enough, but I really didn’t want to normalise Zerg rushing as a go to strategy every time things became difficult.

“Sebet would need to be accounted for as well,” I reminded Gregory, “Despite Gric’s insistence that I can break our contract without repercussions, I have no intention of breaking my promises.”

Gregory bowed his head in deference, “Then perhaps there is another way forward, assuming your Majesty can Summon additional projections?”

I nodded and waved for Gregory to continue.

“Assuming the environs of the dungeon cannot be manipulated directly?” Gregory looked to Teressa for confirmation.

Teressa nodded emphatically, “All known attempts at altering or damaging the form of a dungeon have met with failure.”

“Then what about teleportation?” Gregory asked warily, “Short range, just to the other end of the passageway?”

Teressa frowned and her expression turned thoughtful for a few moments, “I don’t recall any records of such an attempt,” she replied hesitantly, “But teleportation in general has a poor track record where dungeons are concerned. The use of teleportation in the general vicinity of a dungeon has been known to result in all manner of anomalous outcomes.”

“Okay, so no teleportation,” Gregory agreed, “What about Quick Step and its equivalents?”

Teressa frowned again before smiling, “Actually, there are several accounts of Quick Step equivalents functioning as intended. Although, the mana expenditure was reported to be several degrees of magnitude greater than in other circumstances.”

Gregory smiled and turned back toward me again, “Majesty I recommend-”

“Summoning a projection of Shady?” I guessed, having followed his train of thought.

Gregory didn’t seem put out in the least and nodded enthusiastically. “Just so, Majesty.”

“Quick Step?” Mortimer grunted and peeked around the corner again. A half second later, Mortimer disappeared.

Looking around the corner, I was just in time to witness Gregory disintegrate as his body collapsed in two halves at the waist.

“And there is another door trap to deal with...” I sighed with a grimace.

*Tingling*

Shady looked just about the same as the last time I saw him. Roughly the size of a tiger, the black-furred Shadowcat had still abstained from Evolving. That line of thought served as a reminder that Tobi and Emelia were both still in a comatose state and were being kept alive through literal divine intervention.

Shady stared at me inquisitively with his bright yellow eyes before casually taking in his new surroundings.

“I just need to borrow your Shadow Step Ability,” I explained and motioned toward the passageway, “I’ll just dismiss you afterwards, alright?”

Shady stared at me again before huffing noncommittally and settling himself down on the floor.

Because the doors all opened inward, it was almost guaranteed that I would still be hit by at least one trap while attempting to open the door at the end of the passageway. Avoiding the second scissoring trap seemed the most prudent, but the javelin and dart traps were almost guaranteed to be positioned around the door. So I had a choice. Take the scissor trap head on, or an indeterminate number of projectiles.

“Who is going to carry the cages?” I sighed uncomfortably, rolling my shoulders while eyeing the furniture.

“I am familiar with Shadow Step, Majesty,” Gregory volunteered dutifully, “I am confident in travelling such a distance-”

“Wait...” I held up my hand and grimaced, “You probably won't have enough mana. Teressa said the dungeon amplifies the cost, and bringing passengers and equipment increases the cost all on its own.”

Gregory’s brow furrowed in thought, “Perhaps some testing is in order?” He suggested.

“Indeed,” I agreed while making my way over to the brazier and the assorted chairs.

So far as I could tell, the furniture was not particularly sturdy, which was disappointing. However, investigating the brazier revealed that the fire was some sort of aesthetic magic and didn’t produce any heat.

Unfortunately, my plans for using some of the furniture as an improvised shield were simply not to be. It was all too fragile or small to provide any meaningful defence.

Making matters worse, Gregory’s projections disappeared after attempting to Shadow Step across the room while carrying Sebet’s cage, causing Sebet to shriek in pain as she slammed against the bars of her cage.

“Mortimer, would you be willing to trip the trap again?” I asked hesitantly.

Mortimer stared at me in surprise for a few moments and then frowned, “Ye’ want me to set it off on purpose?!” He demanded quietly.

I nodded, “You don’t have to get hit, and I’ll try to dismiss your projection immediately afterward. But I need a window of opportunity to try and open the door, and we aren’t sure how big the pressure plate is.”

“Oh, is that all,” Mortimer began to roll his eyes but stopped abruptly as his attention fell upon the brazier, “Ye’ jus’ need the trap to go off, right?” He asked while nervously licking his lips.

“That’s right,” I agreed.

“Throwin’ some of that junk should just about do it,” Mortimer suggested, pointing to the chairs and brazier.

There was enough space in the passageway on either side of the door that I could afford to throw most of the furniture without blocking the door from opening. So it was a decent enough plan in theory.

Where Gregory had failed, I was confident I could succeed. The potency of one's mana was largely dependent on their tier of Evolution, which meant my own mana was close to eight times as potent as Gregory’s. Of course, I would be transporting not just myself, but Sebet as well, at least.

Ordering the Summoned Kobold out of my improvised pack, I loaded Sebet’s cage into the iron banded chest instead. There wasn’t quite enough room for the fairy’s cage, so I decided I would carry it in my left hand. I used a couple of cushions from the chairs to pad the inside of the chest to stop Sebet’s cage from rocking about once the chest was on my back again.

I still hadn’t made up my mind on what to do with the currently unconscious fairy, but I decided that it wouldn’t be my fault if he was killed by a trap. There was only so much I could be expected to do for a potential enemy, and there were too many traps in our path to realistically protect him from all of them.

Justifying Sebet’s position of relative safety was easy enough. We had made a deal and I intended to fulfil my end of it.

Keeping all the Summons active, just in case, I piled up the furniture beside the door and prepared myself to do something incredibly reckless.

Taking several deep breaths, I lifted the cast iron brazier and lobbed it down the passageway.

Several spears, blades and even a harpoon whooshed through the air as the brazier clattered down the length of the passageway. Thrown off course repeatedly and injected with fresh momentum the brazier cashed against the walls and triggered more traps which sent it ricocheting down the passageway.

Just as I felt certain that the brazier was doomed to an eternal existence as a pinball, a vertical blade trap swung out from the floor and smacked the brazier straight toward the door to the next room. Unfortunately, the brazier was still carrying too much momentum and struck just below the door handle before bouncing back into the passageway and triggering a trio of spear traps.

“GOGOGO!” Mortimer yelled excitedly.

Two blades sheared out of the door and met only empty air.

I gathered my mana and concentrated as hard as I could while envisioning myself standing next to the distant door.

For a moment, everything turned black. I felt my mana drop to dangerously low levels and staggered as everything came into focus again.

Reaching for the door handle with my right hand, I grimaced in pain as several projectiles slammed into my left arm and chest. Ignoring the pain, I pulled hard on the door handle and threw the door wide before stumbling into the room beyond. I yelped in pain as something on my left side caught on the door frame.

Looking at my right arm, I flinched as I found a mess of darts and two javelins with broken shafts sticking out of my arm and chain hauberk. Reaching for one of the broken javelins, I froze as I noticed the blood running from my right hand.

“LOOK OUT!” Teressa cried out in alarm.

I looked up just in time to catch the spiked head of a morningstar to the chest and be knocked back toward the open door.

Wheezing in pain, I grit my teeth and glared at the trio of large stone statues that began stepping down from a large plinth in the centre of the room. One of the statues was unarmed and presumably the owner of the morningstar. One of the two remaining statues carried a trident, and the other had a crescent two-handed axe.

I barely managed to stagger out of the way as the second statue threw its trident, further damaging the shafts of the javelins and dislodging two of the darts embedded in my arm.

Ignoring the blood welling in my right palm, I pulled out my mace and dropped the fairy’s cage against the wall.

Thankfully, the statues appeared to be prioritising retrieving their weapons instead of coordinating as a group.

Rushing forward, I batted aside the third statue’s axe with my mace and tried to knock it over, violently driving the air from my lungs in the process.

The statue wobbled but didn’t fall, righting itself with ponderous grace and shoving me backward again with the butt of its axe.

“Damnit...” I muttered breathlessly and resisted the urge to draw on my mana. Thanks to the Kobold in the other room my mana was regenerating at a comparatively breakneck pace. Unfortunately, Shadow Stepping across the passageway had nearly tapped me out and I needed to establish a reserve again to avoid falling unconscious.

Keenly aware that I only had a few more moments before the other two statues would be finish retrieving their weapons, I did my best to ignore the pain and stepped forward to challenge the axe-wielding statue for a second time.

“H-HEY!” Teressa shouted, suddenly appearing in the doorway and waving her arms emphatically at the statue trying to retrieve its morningstar, “L-LOOK AT M-ME!” She stammered before throwing a broken chair leg at the statue and running deeper into the room.

The golem snatched up its morningstar and stalked after Teressa with violent intent, arm raised and tracking her movements.

I struck at the shaft of the statue's axe with a heavy backhanded swing to try and damage it or drive the statue back.

The statue met my strike halfway and drove me back into the wall, pinning my right arm high against the wall and trying to press down on my jugular.

Thanks to the chest on my back, I was angled oddly against the wall and was able to avoid being pinned outright. Taking hold of the shaft of the axe with my left hand I flinched as fresh waves of pain radiated up my arm. Ignoring the pain as best I could manage, I pushed back hard enough to knock the statue off balance.

The statue fell to the ground and shattered its stone wings. However, instead of flailing like an overturned tortoise, the statue lay still as a pale golden liquid pooled out of its back and across the floor. The pieces of the statue’s broken wings touched by the liquid were crudely drawn together again as the liquid webbed across their surface.

In less than a couple of seconds, the statue’s wings had reformed on the back of the statue and pushed it up onto its feet. Crude and misshapen, the individual pieces shuddered and trembled with each of the statue’s steps.

Spying the second statue taking aim with its trident, I staggered into motion while trying to think of a plan.

Teressa was playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse with the first statue, baiting it into throwing its morningstar, narrowly dodging the meteoric projectile, and then running away while the statue moved to retrieve it.

Several Swordsmen and Archers attempted to Shadow Step into the room but disappeared within moments of their arrival, accomplishing little more than momentarily distracting the second statue.

Then Mortimer appeared.

He seemed to take in the room with a single glance before quickly charging the second statue. Armed only with a dagger, I had no idea what he intended to accomplish, if anything at all.

The second statue shifted targets almost immediately, redirecting its trident toward Mortimer and driving the three barbed prongs down toward his midsection.

With impossible agility and poise, Mortimer performed a twirling sidestep around the trident, abandoning and wrapping his cloak around it in the process.

I narrowly avoided the head of the third statue’s axe and backed away to buy myself more time to regenerate my mana. As I had suspected, fighting and rapidly regenerating mana at the same time was incredibly tiring, but so long as I didn’t overextend myself, it seemed manageable enough.

The second statue attempted to swat Mortimer like a bug, smashing the flat of its trident against the floor. Despite the poor angle and force of the blow, the trident remained intact.

Teressa hopped up onto the plinth in the middle of the room and awkwardly tumbled over the opposite side just in time for the first statue’s morning star to whistle overhead and smash into the wall a few feet to my left.

Taking the initiative, I continued backing away from the third statue and snatched up the first statue’s morningstar, intending to use it as a projectile of my own.

The first and second statue immediately shifted their combined attention toward me.

“Of course...” I muttered bitterly, it only made sense that they wouldn’t like someone else playing with their toys.

Flooding mana into the morningstar, I threw it at the first statue as hard as I could manage.

Unfortunately, the morning star rapidly lost its momentum and glided the final few feet into the first statue’s patiently outstretched hand.

“COVER!” I roared and did my best to angle my helmet’s visor downward.

*BANG!!!*

A wave of pressurised air crashed into me and nearly knocked me back into the wall as shards of stone whipped at my arms and legs.

Looking up, I was only slightly relieved to find that the first statue was scattered across the floor. The golden liquid pooling between the pieces dampened my excitement considerably.

Teressa seemed to be unharmed but was struggling to regain her feet. Surprisingly, Mortimer was still very much on the move, actively attempting to antagonise the second statue which had strangely decided to begin targeting Mortimer again.

Momentarily losing focus allowed the second statue’s axe to bite through the chains of my hauberk and cut the meat of my right shoulder before I managed to lurch out of the way.

Ignoring the intense hunger beginning to build in my stomach, I snarled, dropped my mace grabbed at the third statue’s axe while drawing on more mana. “COVER!” I roared for the second time while forcing my mana into the statue’s axe.

Momentarily meeting with resistance, I bore down on it with all the will I could muster while physically wrestling with the statue and trying to throw or knock it over.

*BANG!*

I roared in pain as finger-sized shards of stone ripped through my hauberk and embedded themselves in my arms, chest, abdomen and thighs.

The statue was at least as unlucky, losing both of its hands and half of each arm.

More of the gold fluid spattered onto the ground from the hollow space inside of what remained of the statue’s arms.

Panting in pain and in the early stages of exhaustion, I groaned while retrieving my mace from the ground and prepared myself for taking the offensive.

Thankfully, the first statue still appeared to be out for the count. However, its golden liquid appeared to be slowly pooling across the room and toward the third statue.

Guessing that it wouldn’t lead to anything good, I mustered what strength I could and brought my mace crashing down on the third statue’s head.

Far from the definitive blow I had desired, a third of the statue’s head crumbled under the impact and spilled more of the golden liquid down its bare chest.

Fighting through the pain I delivered a vicious backhand to the right side of the statue’s face, shearing away its nose, mouth and chin and spattering more of the golden liquid across the floor.

“Just...go...down...” I panted, fumbling with my mace as my right hand began to twitch.

To my immense confusion, the statue backed away.

Too late, I realised why.

Stepping back into the approaching pool of golden liquid, the statue trembled as the broken pieces of its fallen companion rolled across the floor and attached themselves to its broken body and formed a crude amalgam of a multi-tendrilled thing.

“Fuuuck...” I cursed defeatedly and made to reach for my mace again. Noticing my fingers were still twitching, I realised that there was a deep throbbing coming from my right palm. Opening my hand to see what was the cause, I recoiled in horror at the sight of my blackened swollen flesh.

A single glance at my Group Status revealed the cause. I was Envenomed.

My attention immediately shifted toward the door I had opened and I cursed myself silently for my negligence.

Bracing myself against the pain, I swept my right forearm down the length of my left arm to dislodge the darts and javelins still embedded in my flesh.

All but two of the darts came free on the first try and they came free on the second.

Hissing in pain I awkwardly picked up my mace with my left hand and gave it a couple of quick experimental swings. Ready or not, I needed to act.

***** Daniel - Asrusian Capital Labyrinth ~ Eighth Floor ~ Dungeon *****

Dan shivered in fear and hugged his knees tight to his chest as another round of mortar shells detonated around him. High-pitched keening and whistling accompanied each blast as shrapnel tore through the air and anyone unlucky enough to be caught out in the open.

Too afraid to even open his eyes, Dan tried to block out the cries of pain from the wounded and the cursing of his Sergeant. Volunteering had been a mistake and he wanted to go home.

*BANG!*

A particularly loud and forceful explosion threatened to rip Dan out of his foxhole as a hail of shrapnel flew over his head.

Trembling, Dan braced himself for another explosion.

Seconds passed by in almost complete silence before it was broken by the cursing of his Sergeant, “FUCK! JUST! STAY! DOWN! FUCKING! GAH!” Something about the Sarge seemed off, and without meaning to, Dan opened his eyes.

Vision spinning and nearly blinded by a splitting migraine, it took Dan several moments to realise that he wasn’t cowering inside of a muddy foxhole, but an all too familiar cage.

A flea in a world of giants, Dan watched in mute terror as the bloodied giant, Tim, battled savagely against some sort of rock monster.

Meanwhile, the old man and young woman from his party took shelter behind some sort of stone altar.

A writhing stone tendril smashed into Tim’s chest and sent him staggering backward several steps before he snarled and charged back into the fray. This sequence repeated three more times before Tim began backing away instead of charging back into combat.

“Fuck you!” Tim growled spitefully, “And fuck fighting fair!”

*Tingling*

A delicate bell chime echoed through the cold dark room.

A second giant armoured with thick steel plates appeared in front of Tim just in time to raise its shield and intercept a blow aimed at his head. Screaming in fury, the second giant charged forward with a thick-bladed axe and brought it smashing down on one of the stone tendrils, snapping it apart from the main body of the rock monster.

“Lash! A Barrier!” Tim called out while leaning hard against the wall beside him.

A luminescent sphere of purple light exploded from the second giant and swept over the room.

The rock monster shivered and several small pieces of its body fell to the floor.

As the light passed over him, Dan felt like someone had doused him in arctic ice water.

The second giant didn’t let up for a single moment, bashing and bludgeoning the rock monster with its shield while hacking and prying at it with its axe.

Each time the rock monster attempted to regain the initiative, the giant would send another explosion of purple light cascading over the room and diminishing the rock monster’s form that much more.

After one final pulse of purple light, the rock monster collapsed completely, and the second giant disappeared only moments later.

A few moments later, a grinding sound came from the direction of the strange altar in the centre of the room. A second much smaller altar had appeared on top of the first and held some sort of archaic spiked ball-headed mace.

“Someone help me get this chest off!” Tim grunted wearily, struggling to remove one of the rope straps from his right shoulder. For a moment, their eyes met from across the room and Tim was surprised to find that he was under intense scrutiny.

Was he angry because I didn’t help him?

What could I have done?

What did he expect me to-?

“Oh...” Dan shivered. He vaguely recalled having done...something...earlier, something the giant didn’t like. Something that Dan felt was intimately related to the mind-shattering migraine he was experiencing at that very moment.

Dan did his best to concentrate on not doing anything in particular.

Tim, the giant-. Dan couldn’t help but tack on the suffix. -was free of the huge iron banded chest he had been carrying on his back and was in the process of stripping his chain link jacket.

Dan’s eyes widened in shock as he took in the giant’s wounds. His upper body was littered with perforations and dark bruises and had a couple of long cuts on his chest and right arm.

Pulling a large satchel off of his belt, Dan expected Tim, the giant, to be retrieving medical supplies to treat his wounds. Instead, Dan was confused to find the giant’s fist contained what looked an awful lot like the tails of several alligators.

Dan could only watch as Tim stuffed the gator tails into his mouth and began to chew.

The distinct muffled crunch and crackle of breaking bones echoed through the room while Tim continued to chew.

It came as a small comfort to Dan that the old man and young woman seemed just as disturbed by the giant’s meal as he was. However, shortly after the giant swallowed, Dan realised that he had mistaken the cause for their intense interest.

The giant’s wounds were healing right in front of their eyes.

Before Dan had the opportunity to take a proper look, another delicate bell chimed and he was nearly scared to death as a rat-like monster appeared in front of him and crouched down to stare at him.

“Tsk tsk,” the rat monster hissed irritably, “This patient’s care leaves much to be desired!” The rat monster tutted in disapproval, “Fresh burns replacing the old, a damaged wing! I shall lodge a complaint! See if I don’t!”

Dan didn’t quite know what to say, it was all too bizarre.

“Now then, let’s get you cleaned up,” the rat monster insisted cheerily while carefully lifting his cage and making its way across the room toward the giant, “My Tyrant, I would have a word with you about patient care!”