Aurelian stepped out of a hidden door identical to the one he’d discovered near Tarixi, though this one was in an entirely different sector of the palace, and bereft of undead—for the moment, at least. He had integrated the palace map, and compass, into his HUD as per Tarixi’s advice and guidance. As a result, he now had a permanent bar at the top of his vision which showed him bearing; both in cardinal direction, and a 360-degree numerical value, with north coinciding to ‘0’. It was extremely useful.
Bahamut came out of the door at his back with a click of his platinum claws on the marble, the dragon’s wings flexing luxuriously before folding once more against his body. He looked positively miniscule in the colossal scale of the palace’s corridors, but given he was barely up to Aurelian’s sternum on all fours that was to be expected.
We have to try to be cautious. he sent to the dragon over their link. We want to locate the Necromancer with as little warning as possible.
That will be difficult given the fact you are a beacon to the tormented souls of the Godsworn, his bond responded with amusement.
Well, I did say try. Aurelian concluded dryly while setting out along the hallway, Bahamut in tow.
The hallway they found themselves in was one of the main thoroughfares of the palace, and led deeper toward where the greatest concentration of necromantic energy radiated. According to the limited intelligence he could glean from the System, combined with Bael’tharax’s weakened, but still powerful senses; the most likely source for the undead was the imperial arboretum.
I suppose if they’re right, it’s more likely to be a Vasiri than anything. Aurelian commented while they walked. The green glow to the eyes is apparently consistent with Vasirian death magic. Given the background on them being corrupted Life magic users, I can see the arboretum being a natural draw.
We will find out soon enough, and I am interested to see this creature. Bahamut replied with a hint of youthful excitement.
Without further ado Aurelian took off at a measured run, and Bahamut took to the air to follow.
Their swift journey took them through the gargantuan palace hallways unimpeded while Aurelian followed the map in his HUD, and tracked their direction with his compass readout. They had first met Tarixi at the far end of the Southern Wing of the palace, and had re-emerged at the western side closer to its heart, based on what Tarixi and Bael’tharax had reported.
While murals, windows, and empty corridors passed them by, Aurelian also noticed the tell-tale signs of battle, and of the ancient siege. Long-ago bloodstains, fire-scorched marble, and even the occasional skeleton—the ones in recognisable Godsworn attire were beheaded quickly, and with perhaps slight prejudice—marking the sights of ancient conflict. The closer they drew to the arboretum, the more pronounced the signs of combat grew, as if the fighting had escalated in both regularity and density.
After fifteen minutes of steady progress, their swift pace was finally arrested, and Aurelian signalled Bahamut to stop when the first signs of greater undead activity came into view.
A cluster of some two dozen skeletons stood like hoisted marionettes in front of the only access point beyond their current corridor and into the next.
Each of them appeared to just be standing in place, frozen, and staring at nothing or directly at walls.
Why do they not attack? Bahamut asked with a perfunctory wing-stretch.
We aren’t in aggro—er—engagement distance. Aurelian corrected halfway through his statement. They probably have a designated range within which they are triggered to respo—
So of course, and before Aurelian could finish the thought, Bahamut leaped forward and unleashed a resounding roar with every bit of air he could pull into his juvenile lungs.
Aurelian drew his blade with a heavy sigh from its sheath, where it rested under the enchanted bulk of his supply pack, and advanced to join Bahamut.
Just shy of twenty-four sets of acid-green eyes transfixed themselves on the pair of them, and Aurelian felt experience settle his expression into grim resolve. He could feel Bahamut’s eagerness humming through the bond like a ramping bass guitar, and while the dragon’s impetuousness rankled him somewhat; he couldn’t fault the hatchling for the accrued style points.
“Get ‘em,” he said with a glance at his companion.
It seemed like the time for stealth was officially over.
Bahamut snarled in approval and launched himself into the air at the same moment as the skeletons burst into a charge toward them both. Aurelian glanced up at the dragon and stood his ground, waiting for what he could instinctively feel building within his bond. A moment later, when the skeletons crossed the halfway mark, the build-up hit its crescendo.
Bahamut parted his jaws and unleashed a withering blaze of flames at the undead from above. The fire was a narrow stream instead of a wide cone, and that was to be expected given the dragon’s age and size—but the few undead the flames did hit promptly exploded after only a momentary contact. Bones splintered, bodies de-animated, and the remains were reduced to ash and cinders by the brilliant expulsion of fire.
You have gained Experience!
Bael’tharax had told him that the first element a Dragon King learned was fire. It was intrinsic to their identity, so he’d said. Bahamut had proven his father correct immediately. Fully six skeletons had been destroyed by the creature’s breath attack, and though Aurelian could feel savage pride emanating from the dragon; he could also sense how tired the hatchling suddenly was.
It was easy to forget, with Bahamut’s size, that he’d only technically been born hours prior.
“Nice work!” Aurelian said while stepping forward at a quick stride. “Now get some rest while you charge up for the next one. I’ve got this.”
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Yes. Very well. I… I shall allow you the glory, Bahamut replied tiredly.
Aurelian suppressed a smile at the implied permission in the statement, and allowed his partner the insinuation of benevolence. The little dragon had likely exhausted himself more than he’d thought he would, and Aurelian wasn’t about to pull him up on a little bit of pride. He had done well.
“My turn, trash mobs.” Aurelian growled in the same moment that he accelerated into a sudden, and explosive charge.
He met the remaining fifteen skeletons—it had been a little less than two dozen after all—in a flurry of combat. His new armour deflected bone claws, and blunted weapons, while he moved through them like a scythe hewing wheat. Bodies were bisected, heads cut away, skulls cleaved, and limbs sliced off in a storm of blade strokes.
Where Aurelian had once struggled for his life against and even feared these creatures, he had changed drastically in his short three-day-and-three-night stint with Bael’tharax and Tarixi.
His sword was like an extension of himself, and de-animated skeletons with lethal purpose wherever Aurelian swung. The occasional “Firebolt!” spilled forth from his lips as well, used as much to give himself room to swing as it was to obliterate a skull or blast back an unsuspecting foe. The chaos of the melee persisted for what seemed like a single extended, and exhilarating moment, before suddenly the last of the undead had its head cut loose, and its instantly rudderless body fell to the fire-blackened marble beneath.
You have gained Experience!
Aurelian looked around at the carnage he’d wrought with a feeling of surprise.
He had not realised how much he’d improved training under Tarixi, and later Bael’tharax’s strict instruction. Equipped in armour and with Bahamut helping, he was… strong. Really strong. He felt like a character who’d gone and completed a bunch of crazy side quests before coming back to the main storyline, and subsequently found it far easier than it should have been.
The analogy was insane, of course, but it was what made the most sense to him.
Aurelian moved his attention from the remnants of the undead to peer up to the massive half-open double doors ahead of him, and then turned back toward Bahamut.
“Feeling better?” he asked the small dragon.
I will be ready for the next engagement, the dragon sent stubbornly. Worry not for me, Aurelian. We must forge ahead.
Aurelian suppressed a smile at the dragon’s pride and nodded. “Alright then. Let’s go.”
He led the way forward without another word and passed through the gap in the huge doors warily, and with his senses on high alert.
What lay beyond was something out of Poison Ivy’s worst nightmare.
Desiccated and dying trees, each one once a great and towering symbol of nature, stood like caricatures upon the promenade beyond; ancient husks drained, brittle, and with life stolen from their bark and branches. They were situated at different junction points, and along massive avenues, in what Aurelian could only assume were the pathways of the palace’s ancient arboretum.
Limp and twisted vines hung like predatory serpents from branches that reached for the high, slanted glass ceiling above and seemed to almost shelter away from the sunlight, hiding in the shadow of their parent trees. Corruption was a palpable stench within the area, and the odour of decay was so pervasive that he felt his Dragon’s Resolve flare brightly across his mind, in the same moment as Bahamut retched and growled at his side.
I have never seen a forest, and yet even I know this is wrong.
Aurelian silently agreed with the dragon, and together they moved cautiously forward.
All along the walkways, and upon overhangs that had likely once been symbols of beauty; shrubberies which had once thrived with the wild vigour of curated life instead rotted, and dripped with acidic affliction of a kind Aurelian was certain he had no interest in investigating. Their excretions covered small swathes of the floor’s marble surface in caustic pools of viscous, bubbling, and sludge-like green liquid that wafted with rancid fumes.
“This entire area is saturated in corruption…” Aurelian muttered to his companion while warily moving forward along the green, black, and brown-stained once-white marble pathway. “It’s not just by coincidence or proximity, this was done with malice—and rage.”
Bahamut growled a wordless agreement while Aurelian’s eyes travelled over the trunks of the nearest trees, and his eyes looked up toward where their tortured limbs hung like sentinels of death in the air above. The tallest of the once-glorious ancients had to be close to thirty metres high, and dwarfed anything he’d ever conceived of in a greenhouse-like space.
The term arboretum didn’t even really do the area justice.
The sheer scale of what he was seeing beggared belief, and it was not insane to think that an entire village or more of people could have lived and worked among the greenery with space to spare. The entire undertaking had likely been one of decades, if not centuries, given the magnitude and age of the trees in question.
It only made the rampant level of corruption and decay that much more horrible.
He didn’t have to be a plant person to feel horror and grief at the sights around them.
Aurelian moved ceaselessly throughout the space, with no desire to linger more than he needed to, and pushed his perception attribute to its maximum while scanning the area. His grip on his Runesword was tight beneath his armoured fingers, and he felt a growing sense of unease, or wrongness, the deeper he stepped into the arboretum.
It was almost like a faint awareness of something else, tugging at him insistently in a way he couldn’t quite identify.
His Calamity Core was riled in a manner he could feel, and he had started cycling mana almost reflexively, pushing it through his Root Chakra and across his body in preparation for use, while keeping a wary eye on his surroundings.
With a start, and a muted curse, he realised he hadn’t been using one of his best tools; and immediately set to correcting the oversight.
Revelate!
Name: Corrupted Ancient Manawood Tree
Type: Flora
Rarity: Epic
Description: Manawood Trees are the lifeblood of great forests, and yield both treasured material for crafting, and powerful fruit which can be used to accelerate mana cycling, the opening of chakras, and regeneration of mana. This Manawood Tree has been corrupted and twisted beyond imagining, and though part of its true nature lingers within, it is almost entirely lost beneath the layers of malaise clinging to its every fibre.
Name: Corrupted Nature Mana
Type: Essence
Rarity: Rare
Description: Distilled Nature Mana can be found with some level of success in forests where Manawood Trees are dense and populous, forming from their passive fruit disgorgement and subsequent saturation upon forest floors. This Nature Mana has been corrupted, and twisted, by tainted Life magic, and is as acidic as it is diseased and virulent. It is antithetical to the well-being of living creatures nearby, and highly combustible.