You’re going the wrong way.
Elia jogged through the flower gate, pointedly not going back towards the boss. “That’s just what I want you to think. It’s all part of the plan.”
Time until lost items and souls dissipate: 14 min
Alright, I’ll bite. What is the plan?
“The plan,” Elia said, taking half a breath to dodge the undead lying in wait, the same as every loop before, “starts with a deception. And to make a lie seem true, you have to make yourself believe it.”
So… what you’re saying is you don’t have a plan.
“Of course I do! Now be quiet, I think The Old Maiden is attracted to the sound of my lovely voice.”
She set into a faster pace, rounded a corner, and squeezed her way through a familiar hole in the wall before the clonking footsteps could even get within earshot. Past the perforated corpse lay the wide-open field of spiders, magical and mundane. Elia was here for the mundane.
“Step one: We need a different weapon. Time to bag some spiders.”
I can already see a hole in your scheme. Where do you intend on getting a bag from?
Elia stopped mid step, further emboldening Rye’s suspicions.
I knew you didn’t have a plan. You’re just making one up as you go.
“And I’m damn good at improv, isn’t that right my little brain bean?”
… don’t call me that.
Elia returned to the corpse and looted its mostly intact pants. She twisted the pantlegs into knots and wasted no time in returning to the field, gunning for the most isolated spiders. Except, they kept on skittering away or wiggling their spikes threateningly like a porcupine when her hand approached them.
“Did you just hiss at me? Get in the bag!” The spider hissed at her a second time. She didn’t want to die of another poisoning and these damn arachnids just weren’t listening. It was all falling apart. “Rye, you don’t happen to be a secret spider whisperer?”
An ethereal snort rang in her mind as her left hand tingled and scratched the ground in scitter-scatter patterns. It was a rhythm, Elia realized and one that made the spiders lower their needles, almost like they were deflating. Within moments, they were as tame as a sleepy kitten and Rye started filling the improvised bag with prickly fist sized spiders.
“I have no idea what the hell I just witnessed. Was that a boon?”
Language. And no, it was not. Spiders are quite smart, smart enough to listen to a few garbled words of aranaic. I’m not afraid of these little ones. I’ve had to deal with worse pests where I came from. Like frogs. And snakes. I hate snakes, even though they eat frogs. They’re too smart.
Elia blinked. Maybe this world wasn’t as boring as she thought. Maybe it was simply too interesting and she didn’t get a tenth of it. “Alright, that’s enough. We’re outta here.”
I can scarcely believe what I’m saying, but why aren’t you checking the corpses all around? They had bone shards the last time we were here and we’re only one off getting a new boon.
“Because unlike random drops, preplaced loot doesn’t respawn between loops.” She paused, wriggling spider in hand. “Huh. That actually only makes sense if you think about it like a videogame.”
I don’t know what this ‘video’ game is you keep referencing, but if it’s anything like this hell then I want nothing to do with it.
Elia tightened the half-rotted belt, closing the pants of wriggly spiders fully. “Fair. Just think of it like this: Everything we get from our own kills is a renewable resource, anything we find in a chest or in the pockets of somebody already long dead is limited.”
Time until lost items and souls dissipate: 9 min
With step one done, Elia returned back through the hole. Judging by the sounds of nearby clanking metal armor, half a minute later and she would have been locked in, losing all her souls. She hurried back to the fountain, then down the path of the lion.
The fight in the room of ten undead plus patrol was quick, not because of any trick or grand skill of Elia’s, but simply because she only fought the first and last group before sneaking past the second and the patrol without stopping to loot the corpses. Even then, she was cutting it awfully close with barely a minute left as she arrived at the green double doors of doom and destruction. Her souls and bones were right on the doorstep, just as planned, and she could see the faint light shining through the cracks.
With herculean effort, the doors creaked open, and she reached through, watching the silvery glow dissolve, and run back up her arm.
You have regained: Soul x7176
You have regained: Bone shard [Common] x11
“Step two, regain soulstuff.”
And what’s step three? Feed the giant spiders until he chokes?
“No. Step three…” Elia sat down in front of the door and crossed her legs in a meditative pose. “…is wait. Maybe do some pondering. Who built this maze? Why are we here? Are tomatoes vegetables? Do I feel happy in my second life as a walking-dead reject? How much wood can a wood chuck chuck if a wood chuck could chuck wood? The answers are, obviously: God, just to suffer, no, no and ten.”
I assume that’s your way of telling me that everything’s going fine. Or not. You could be clearer on that. I think I have more of a picture on what this place is now, and it is horrible. A terrible place for terrible people, but you’re by far the least of them.
“Gee, thanks for the compliment.”
Y-yeah, well, if we do make it out of here, I will apologize as many times as you want for being so difficult in our first life.
“You threatened to stab me. Multiple times.”
Please don’t remind me.
“I’ll bring it up every time you have an unhealthy bout of pacifism.”
I was just trying… it’s not… murder isn’t moral, but…
With Rye failing to find the right words, they sat in serene silence for a while.
Can you promise me that you’re not just trying random things until you succeed?
“Yes.”
Good. I don’t think I can stomach having my brains dashed out again and again any longer. I– wait, did you hear that?
Elia stood up, waiting as somewhere in the distance, metal clanged on metal and cut through skin and flesh.
Someone’s fighting the other undead. Elia, we’re not alone! We’re not alone, do you hear?
The sounds soon grew quiet, followed only by the dread clanking of metal boots.
“I sure hope you’re a hugger, Rye,” Elia said just as The Old Maiden turned the corner, boots and sword absolutely caked in gore. She herself was uninjured, like a slasher-movie villain who just emerged from pasting a lakeside camp of horny teenagers.
Elia threw herself against the knight, hanging on tight as best she could.
“I’m sorry for leaving without you. Again. I’ll make whoever did this to you pay twice over. I swear,” she whispered and The Old Maiden halted, dropping her sword with a clatter. Elia closed her eyes, waiting for the knife she knew would come. Despite the shittyness of being reborn as an undead, Elia had tried to live a life. But just like before this place took everything she had tried to build up. Her friends. Her life.
You have died
Undead curse overflowing
Further deaths will lead to erosion of self. Sacrifice a boon to gain absolution.
Her magic.
She was sacrificing no boon today. The process never deigned to give her a choice of which to sacrifice and without [Psychometry], she didn’t see a future for herself in an unfamiliar world filled with undead.
The tools for a victory in detail were hidden well. Every little benefit was earned by clawing her way forward inch by inch, death by lonely death. Except now she wasn’t alone. Though she knew intellectually that forcing anyone to share in the same ordeal she had been living was wrong, even grotesque, the raised stakes were greater fuel for her determination than petty revenge and spite ever were.
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The doors creaked open for what would hopefully be the last time and out staggered a small figure, scarcely armored on her legs and arms and panting, fighting for air.
Do you have any more witty comments to give? If it’s about the undeads’ body odor or poor perception, don’t bother. I am already well aware.
“I...don’t sass me. I just… need a… second.”
Oh, I wasn’t trying to sass you. I am just genuinely curious how this is going to go.
“Thanks… for the vote… of confidence.”
Like watching a natural disaster.
“Nevermind. This disaster is entirely manmade.” From where she’d run, the sounds of violence rang clearly throughout the air, marching closer one step at a time. “Alright. I’m good.”
With a straight back, a sword in one hand and a pair of pants filled with spiders in the other, she swaggered down shallow steps and into the arena of the giant. The coffin lid scraped against stone; it fell to the ground with the same bone-rumbling heavy thud as always.
The drama was somewhat missing after the eleventh time, but if Elia knew how to provide one thing it was boundless entertainment.
“Ladyknights! Gentlegiants! All in between, below, and above! We’re back from our commercial break with the million-dollar question: How are you going to die today? Is it A: Stabbed in the dick by a pint-sized girl? B: Asphyxiation via poisonous spider bag? Is it C: Falling on your own blade? Or is it D–“
A decapitated head shattered against the floor next to Elia, exploding like an overripe watermelon. The closed bronze doors creaked ominously behind her as gauntleted fingers pried them open, revealing a figure with eyes glowing a brilliant white like a thousand souls through the visor of its sharp helmet.
Like seven thousand one hundred seventy-six souls, to be precise.
“Aww, you ruined the surprise. Couldn’t you have waited like half a second?” She brushed herself down and pointed at the giant, still slowly making his way out of his oversized stone sarcophagus. “This man called me short. Kill him please.”
“eeen…” The Old Maiden gurgled in a tinny shriek. “AaaH! …eeeEEEN!”
With a howl that would kill a banshee, The Old Maiden practically flew down the steps and swung her longsword in a wide semi-crescent arc. Elia ducked, but only because she was paying close attention to both the giant and her former friend juiced up on thousands of souls. She really preferred keeping her head this life.
“Kill him, not me!”
The giant took this as his cue to finish his eleventh dramatic entry and he too stormed forward – gunning straight for Elia. This was precisely the opposite of what was supposed to happen and for lack of any options, Elia charged straight at him.
Eep!
The heavy curved sword cracked smooth cobblestone and shook her off her feet. With no time to get in any strikes of opportunity she rolled out of the way of a stomping giant sandal and scooted through the gap between his legs just in time to evade yet another wide-set slash of The Old Maiden.
It hit the giant instead, the sword cutting furrows into his strips of padded armor. As she scrambled a safe distance away, she turned around to witness the giant tearing its raised sword earthwards – not towards Elia, but The Old Maiden. Her full metal kite shield deflected the hit as she failed to give one in return, forced to endure strike after leaden strike during her retreat until she was out of range.
Is this your glorious plan? Have the knight of Loften – sorry – The Old Maiden fight the giant for us?
“Uh-huh. We’re not even on a timer, thanks to…” She checked her recent notifications until she found the relevant one.
Your Souls and Shards have been usurped by: The Old Maiden
Slay your usurper to regain what is yours
Oh, so you’re not the only one who steals souls then?
“Everyone does it, far as I know, though I only have every kind of undead as a reference.” Elia breathed out and once she was sure the fight would take place at an appreciable distance, she sat herself down onto a tuft of dried grass. “All I know is that they don’t talk, they don’t hesitate beyond their slow reactions, and all look more like mummies than rotted carcasses. I’ll have to go up against whoever wins this fight and it better be the giant.”
And if your knightly friend wins?
“Even… even then. I’ll finish it.”
She is your friend though, isn’t she? Or did you perhaps part on poor terms?
“… I hate how observant you are.” Their parting was one of the many memories she had forgotten, lost, and left behind in the maze, only a stinging pain left in the void. “If it comes to that, fingers crossed that the student can outrun the mentor.”
I don’t think I’d have it in me to kill anyone that close on purpose either, or anyone at all for that matter.
A yellow rondel whistling a foot past her ear brought her back to the present. “Let’s take a few more steps back.”
Agreed.
The fight was ongoing and reached a new level of brutality. Their initial clash ended with a clear victory on the giant’s side. The Old Maiden's shield looked like someone had liberally applied a can opener to it. She either didn’t seem to realize or care as she held onto the fraying metal to continue parrying deadly blows.
The giant advanced, taking advantage of his much longer reach to bully The Old Maiden into submission. As he reeled back for an overhead strike, she pointed her shield arm at his masked face, and a blue flash shattered upon it. He staggered back, clearly caught off balance as another conjured bolt of ice thick as an arm manifested in front of her shield and shot forward. She did it again. And again.
Oh my grug, Elia, she knows magic? I knew there was a reason why you put so much trust into her, even in the poor state she is in.
Elia gaped at the sight of the nine-foot-tall giant helplessly staggered by the barrage before catching herself. “Uh-huh, yeah. Totally.”
She ducked under an errant shard, only peripherally aware that less than a minute had passed since the start of the battle. And yet it felt like eons as the tide ebbed back and forth, a dance of dodging, parrying, side-stepping, and spells throwing up mountains of dust.
Both stood mesmerized at the sight of two great warriors locked in a duel of skill and fates. Both felt some sadness at knowing that no honor awaited the winner, only an execution. There was nothing to be done about it; they were undead after all and beyond any help.
This feels… cheap.
The first signs of the fight coming to a close were subtle, such that Elia didn’t even notice them at first. A nick to the leg. A pauldron knocked loose. Dust clinging to the rapidly staining fabric of the giant’s armor.
They were at a distance that respected their opponent’s range, yet close enough to jump in should they need to even the odds a little. Even then, everything happened too quickly to react.
The Old Maiden half deflected a wide swing upwards, this time paying for it with every healthy bone in her left arm. She got the giant’s heart in exchange, thick blood staining a cerulean spear of ice summoned mid-thrust in dark run offs. The giant fell and though the worst – a one sided beatdown – had not happened, Elia was still hesitant to approach. The fight had turned from impossible odds against a one-armed giant to now uncertain odds against a wounded Maiden on steroids and in full plate.
“Alright. It’s showtime. Ready, Rye–“
A white bolt burst out of the giant’s chest and grabbed The Maiden by her face, coiling, coiling around until with a wretched crunch, she stilled. Elia looked on in horror as a white… thing – like a snake but with no eyes, no scales, no teeth – bared empty gums at her in a bloody faux smile. Where its long slender body remained attached to the giant’s torso, a barely audible drumbeat of his newly resuscitated heart echoed dully from within, the creature shuddering and undulating to the rhythm.
W–WHAT THE HECK IS THAT!?
“An ecologically sourced sentient prosthetic arm.” Elia managed a weak chuckle, even as she nervously reassessed the increased range the giant could threaten her at. With the eyeless, scaleless snake a quarter of the arena was within his range, maybe a third. The Old Maiden’s corpse glowed briefly, before a glowing orb floated out to rest on top of her body. “Shit, if he takes those souls and powers up, we’re screwed.”
She maneuvered herself away from the souls and the giant stomped on after her without a second glance. The area behind her was open, though not as open as she would have liked. Elia looked at her shortsword, barely longer than a foot. Then to her improvised bag filled with wriggling pointy spiders. For a moment, she wondered if maybe collecting crossbows would have been the better plan.
“Spiders. I know we had our differences, but it’s time for your redemption arc.”
Then the giant leapt.
OH GODS, HE’S COMING RIGHT FOR US!
It wasn’t an earth-shattering superhero landing; he was neither a hero nor super in any category besides size and strength. In fact, the giant only half-stuck the landing, slamming into the ground on one of his knees. Elia dodged the following sloppy strike with some level of ease, ducking around and gunning for center mass with a quick stab to the ribs.
The white not-snake foiled her as it reached around the giant’s back, catching her sword hand in its toothless jaw. Tiny spikes along the bony palate and tongue poked through her glove as she painfully pulled her arm out of the hold. A kick toppled her off her feet as she twisted away. If it had hit her while she was grappled, she would have lost an arm.
Elia had no time to shudder nor listen to the incoherent sounds of panic and displeasure echoing inside her head. She slammed the bag of spiders into the giant’s side, but was surprised as the snake reflexively bit into it. Though the giant was saved, it jerked back with a mouth full of black spider spines, hissing angrily.
The Forlorn Giant suffers from the affliction: [Poisoned]
“Yesss– Wait, what?” The snake and the giant were one. Weird.
With quick steps she retreated out of the giant’s range, deciding to wait and see what else he had in store. She circled the giant clockwise, keeping an eye both on his massive body and the angry not-snake.
“He can’t walk. My girl, The Old Maiden, messed him up good. The giant’s on his last knees in the most literal sens–“
A sudden lunge nearly skewered her, but she was quick to step aside. Her spider pants weren’t so lucky as a tear launched over a dozen spiky deathtraps all over the floor. She started into a run, still circling him as she aimed for his back, but the white creature harassed her the entire way, making an approach impossible.
“Shit, I can’t get close.”
SNAKE!
Elia dodged another attempt as it tried to wrap its body around her. A reddened puddle was forming at the giant’s feet and her eyes flicked between his wounds and the dark blood spilling from the lips of his impassive mask.
“But maybe, we don’t need to.”
Elia stepped back. As if on command the giant immediately turned towards her, hefted his body into an unsteady stand and pounced like a lion the size of an SUV.
She dodged the first strike, stepping back.
Then the second, ducking below.
A third and fourth came in an unaimed flail, pelting her with dirt and stone shrapnel on both sides.
Elia tripped and the fifth one came from right above.
AAAH!
Instincts honed over a thousand lifetimes saved her as she turned her fall into a split-second tumble. Her sword did not survive, a fact only noticed when she rammed it into the giant’s side in a counterattack. The now flat and broken edge of the blade did precisely jack squat.
“Shit.”
A knee to her chest sent her flying over a smattering of corpses, tumbling to a stop against a tombstone. It cracked, or maybe that was her back. Her next breath refused to come under her percussion of coughs. Something was broken there, something pinching her in between her ribs.
The breath did eventually come to Elia, but it was sharp and painful and tasted like iron. Sprawled out against the tombstone, she had only the finest commentary to enjoy as the giant sunk to his knees before her and the snake stilled a moment before its strike.
WE’RE GONNA DIE! AGAIN!
But the strike never came.
Ascender slain
You have gained: Soul x4000
You have gained: Bone shard [Common] x10
You have gained: Bone shard [Uncommon] x6
You have gained: Key to the undead garden
We-we’re alive? We’re alive!
“I… I won?”
You did it, Elia! I knew you would!
She leaned back against the grave, trying not to think, to feel, just to breathe. Never did the air taste so sweet.
“I won.”
Yes! And now, we can leave. Right, Elia? Wait, why’s our vision going all blurry? Are you crying?
“No,” Elia lied, shivering as the weight of a mountain lifted from her shoulders. She won. And for the first time in forever, victory meant something.