Death permeates the cavern. My body aches; countless cuts and scrapes line my flesh as I hold the line. I had leveled up five times over the last thirty minutes put all the stat points into Strength, and purchased the skill Basic Glaive so that I could better utilize the weapon. Now, instead of the wild swinging I had been doing, I was better able to parry and use the whole of the weapon.
Over a hundred ratmen have died so far; their bodies lay mangled and bisected, or down below in a pile at the very bottom of the abyss, and I have lost feeling in my left leg due to an arrow sticking into my thigh. It’ll take a bit of time for this specific injury to repair itself; the arrow was shot from a particularly strong archer and had pierced through the black scale leggings and stuck in my thigh bone. I want to remove it, but merely touching it sends waves of pain and nausea coursing through my body, but I would have to bear it. I take in a lungful of air, turn my body so that I’ ’m facing the stone wall, and let out a Billow.
The force of the wind pushes me back out over the abyss so that I can have time as I tumble down toward the bottom. I grab hold of the arrow shaft and pull it out. I let out a cry of pain. It was intense. Far more intense than any pain I’ve felt in my life. It takes a few moments of somersaulting through the air to come to terms with the pain. When I had fallen a good distance, I saw something at the very bottom of the pit, where it glowed the brightest: a structure that could be compared to the Palace of Versailles.
Grand marble spires, covered in well-kept spirals of glowing moss held up a vaunted roof. A couple of feet out from the wide staircases that led up to the large stone doors of the palace was a fountain. The fountainhead was a lizard, who sat at the very top, and whose tail wrapped around the pillar that led from basin to basin. I draw in a lungful of air to slow my fall. This...this is where the apostle would be. Something deep inside of my spirit knew this to be true. I push off the air and windwalk down to the very bottom of the deep abyss. If I killed it, wouldn’t that solve the underlying worry of these monsters breaking out? As I landed on the moss-laden ground I winced and hissed loudly as I fell down onto my backside, and reached into my pack to pull one of the healing potions out. I down the bright pink liquid. I pour the little bit left at the bottom of the jar directly onto the wound to speed up the recovery process.
The rats yell’s from above echo off the stone walls, but they’re some distance away; about a mile and a half up from where I am, or about five miles along the winding path, so I have some time. While laying in that soft mossy loam, I notice something buzzing around; small flies and gnats. Were these native to Efra as well? No...I had never seen them in Efra before unless William brought them in for reconnaissance. Could he have dropped a jar by mistake? That doesn’t sound like him; he’s always been calculating and careful with his actions to an almost scary degree. Then, it must be some kind of mistake, right?
Once my flesh was finished stitching itself closed, and the dull ache deep in my bone had ceased, I pushed myself up and stepped confidently toward the large double doors. I took a deep breath to quell my nerves once more, as I pushed through the opening.
The doors swung inward and opened into a large antechamber. Two rows of columns decorated with spirals of glowing moss stretched out from the door to the very end of the audience hall, where there sat a throne, flanked on either side by a pair of doors that would, no doubt, lead further into the palace. That wouldn’t be necessary, however.
In the middle of the room, beneath the ceiling-mounted skeleton of a large reptilian creature was a large table with a map laid out. At once, I recognize it as a map of California. At the throne side end of the table was a ratman who rivaled the size of the white wolf that Lawrence, William, and I encountered the day that Lawrence awoke from his coma. He wore no armor, but a set of tight white and black robes that enunciated his muscular frame quite well. His black fur was peppered with white, and braided and held in place with golden rings that formed a mane of black, well-oiled locks that circled its ratlike face. On its brow, above its bright blue eyes, it wore a circlet of shining gold and intertwined platinum with deep purple stones inlaid. This was the Underking, I knew at once; the apostle, and the anchor of this dive.
Those bright blue eyes darted from the map to the opening door. It snarled out an order at the two creatures surrounding it; one a bright brown dogman, and the other what could only be described as a satyr from Greek mythology.
“Makdar Arrak!” The creature slammed its fist on the table. The whole of the antechamber shook.
The dogman and the satyr rushed forward. The dogman drew a curvy dagger like the one that Lawrence has, from within the folds inlaid with similar purple stones to the king’s crown. He drew in air, and leaped high into the air before baring down at me with the pointed dagger pointed at me.
The satyr, meanwhile, lowered its horns to charge into me. I lift the glaive over my head and swing down. The crescent blade sliced through the dogman’s arm and through its chest; parting ribs and flesh, as it continued to slam into the satyr’s skull. It breaks through the hard horn and splits the creature’s head in two. Hot blood sprays over me as both bodies fall to the ground.
I point my glaive toward the Underking, who, in turn, sneered its hate. I rush forward, and the massive rat takes hold of the end of the table and upends it. While it flips in the air he lands a kick on it. The table flies out toward me and slams into my body. The next thing I know, it explodes into a thousand pieces as the creature’s massive arms punch through it. I let out a quick billow and leap backward out of the creature’s reach; nearly slamming into the wall as I do so.
Once the cloud of dust had settled the Underking stood firm, in a brawler’s stance; left leg and left arm extended in front of it as a guard, and its right arm lowered and chambered behind it as its body was turned towards me like a well trained martial artist. It shifted its forward leg, and a piece of the stone ground beside it tears off and hurtles towards me. I dive out of the way, and the stone slams into the wall; leaving an impact crater. A mage, too? Troublesome.
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It shifted its leg in a slightly different manner, and a spike of stone juts out from the ground and slammed into my stomach. I can’t fight at a distance, so I use the recoil of the hit to launch me forward. I raise the glaive over my head and swing down once I’m in range. It shifts its body, and the glaive whiffs through the air and slams against the earth. Something wraps around my ankle and yanks me back. My face slams against the stone ground right before my body is pulled off the ground.
I dangle there for a second, spinning around in the air off the creature’s tail. I grip my glaive and twist my body to swing it into the creature, but the Underking stops it with the palm of its hand. It grabs hold of the glaive and yanks it out of my grasp. It recognizes the glaive, as it turns it wistfully in front of it.
Suddenly, I’m yanked higher in the ground and brought down quickly. Several small spikes had been raised on the ground beneath me. I hurriedly draw in a lungful of air, turn my body, and blow a Billow into the face of the Underking. It staggers background, as I swing wildly. Still, however, I slam into the ground; my left elbow the only part of my body has taken the spikes beneath me. As I’m lifted into the air again, I draw the dark dagger that Oak had dropped and slice through the creature’s segmented tail. It howls in pain as I fall to the ground, and pull its tail off from around my ankle.
It kicks forward while I’m still on the ground into the pit of my stomach. The force knocks all the air out of my lungs, and launches me backward; arcing through the air. It shifts its foot again as another boulder comes hurtling toward me. I take in a lungful of air, and push myself out of the way; though the boulder clips me on the hip, sending me spinning back down to the ground. I spring up, and ready myself; my dagger pointed forward like a rapier as I dart forward. I dodge another stone and pirouette around an earthen spike sent to intercept me, and in a moment I’m inches from the king. I stab forward toward its chest; the blade imbued with wind mana.
The Underking knocks down my extended arm with its left wrist and brings that same wrist up to slam into my chin. I’m sent skyward once more, but not for long, as it also brings its wrist slamming back down into my chest. A few ribs crack at the blow. I grab hold of its arm to hold it in place and jab my dagger through its wrist.
Heavy blood flows out of its arm as it yanks it away. I hop up. I need to make some space, to give my body some time to recover. I draw in the air; it's painful, but I ignore the pain. While it clutches its wrist, I step into the air, hopping out of its reach. Boulders fly at me, but those are easily dodged in the air. The boulders fall aimlessly to the ground after reaching their apex. I need a place to recuperate; a place to drink my last healing potion, and a place to stop the bleeding of my mangled left arm. Blood rolls down my elbow and drops down like rain drops; staining the marble floors as I climb up towards the skeleton of the large reptilian creature hanging on the ceiling. I duck in through its large eyes and take shelter within its skull.
The Underking bellows in frustration, and I watch as he approaches the nearest wall and places his hand on it. A platform juts out of the stone of the wall, and he hops onto it. Another platform, a little longer than the last. Another, and another. Quicker, and quicker, now as he runs and steps off, there’s a platform there to catch him before he even has a chance to fall. In this manner, he climbs the dozens of feet into the air toward the skeleton. I hurriedly pull out the healing potion and down it. A moment later the skeleton rocks as the Underking latches on.
I scramble back as its massive arm reaches through the eye socket toward me; its fingers brushing against my skin were enough to tear scarlet scars. I have to hold him in place somehow. Keep him away from me while I recover. I form a rope of mana in my hand with Tether and wrap it around the creature’s wrist. It tries to pull away, but I hold on; planting my feet against the inside of the skull. The bone begins to crack as it pulls all the harder, I maneuver myself toward the other eye socket, growing the rope of mana, and climb out. It reaches for me with its other hand; the one with the bleeding wrist, and grabs hold of the hem of my scale jacket and pulls me in; slamming its forehead into mine before it extends its arm so that my flailing fists wouldn’t connect with its face.
My eyes flutter and my consciousness wavers. I’m...I’m going to die. The large ratman grins. Its large hand wraps around my throat, and it begins to squeeze. I’m...I’m going to die. I’m going to die. I’m going to die. I’m going to die...I’m going….to...no. No. No. I refuse. I spit up a throatful of blood as I grope around my belt for the dagger. I stab upward through the creature’s arm. Once. Again. And again. Until I can pull away from its mangled grasp, and I could take in a lungful of air and blow it right into its face in a Billow.
I fall away from its grasp and lasso the Tether around the creature’s mangled wrist and its neck as I begin to fall. I draw in another lungful of air and cast Billow skyward once more to rocket myself down as I cease growing the mana rope. I heard a loud urk as the creature was pulled up through the eye socket through the arm inside of it. I cast Billow again, pulling downward all the harder. The mana rope burned my palms as the unfettered energy seared my hand. Something above snaps and breaks off as the mangled wrist snaps off. It bellowed in pain. Blood pours down over me as the mana rope tightens around its neck. Now I have enough slack — Billow.
I fall about twenty feet down before I’m snagged. It tried to free its bound hand to tear at the rope, but the mana rope wouldn’t break, not without my consent. I take another deep breath, plant my feet against the air, and pull down as hard as I can. Shards of bone fall off as the nasal ridge of the lizard skull breaks apart.
I wind walk up as the Underking falls, and so does the rope. I pull the rope so that it untangles from its arm, and wrap a loop around one of the teeth before releasing all of the air from my lungs and going into a free fall once more. The lizard skeleton shook once more as the Underking was pulled up by its neck. It tried to pull itself free with its one arm, but it wouldn’t work. The mana rope would hold until I get mana locked, or until I dispel it. The Underking swings through the air as it tries to find a purchase somewhere. I take a breath once more and plant my feet upside down to keep the rope as taut as possible. It tried to reach up with its now dislocated arm to grab hold of the ledge of the jaw, but it looked more like useless flailing to me.
As its blood slowly drained from its body from its severed hand, its fighting grew weaker and weaker, but still, I held. I held until the sounds of it choking stopped. I held even beyond then until the blood no longer dripped, only then did I permit myself to release the rope, and let the body fall to the ground with a heavy thud.