15. You Die and You Learn

[Designation: DIAPHRAGM]

[Instrument Class: INFERNAL]

[Anchored Realm: NARAKA (Base)]

[Item Description: Records of the early days of the Damnatorium, much like concrete information about Naraka in general, are scant and far between. Yet, despite or perhaps because of its relative obscurity, it’s a topic that has captured the imagination of lorechasers across the Six Realms, many of whom can agree on one popular theory, namely that the colossal prison complex was the magnum opus of a single architect—one genius that cut through the chaos and mobilized an army of Hellspawns toward a common cause. Nowhere is this more apparent than in the construction and distribution of Furnaces: fiery engines that double as the Damnatorium’s power source as well as one of its most feared forms of torture. It’s understood that all Jailers, no matter to which section they’ve been assigned to, are trained in maintaining and operating a Furnace. The most proficient and enterprising among them are then granted dispensation to wield the bellows, giving them license to make the most hellish infernos burn even hotter and ever darker.]

***

Serac’s first boss battle as a Wayfarer quickly went from bad to worse.

The tornado that had whipped her into the air had, at the same time, torn through parts of the ceiling, causing more Frenzied Penitents to drop to the floor. These landed in numbers around their fellow Rakshasa and wasted no time in lurching towards her, onyx claws bared and no doubt relishing a much easier target for their violence than their Warden captor.

Great. Not only have I got my hands full with Jackass over there, but I have to deal with a swarm of these guys too?

She unloaded three bullets into the one closest to her, pocketed the ensuing Karma, then decided that the situation was highly untenable. Trying to deal with the Penitents one by one would leave her emptied of ammunition long before she could begin to fight the actual boss.

If only she had the means to scare away the mob… like a certain donkey’s hind-legged kick. Failing that, all she could hope to do was—

“Keep moving!”

“Keep moving!”

The simultaneous shouts from her mentors both physical and disembodied spurred her into action.

She broke into a controlled jog, loath to run down her Stamina too quickly. Luckily, the Frenzied Penitents inside the boss arena were just as dumb and predictable as the ones she’d dispatched on the way here, which allowed her to run circles around them even at half-speed.

She turned a distracted eye toward the boss in question and saw that his attention was presently occupied by Zacko. The NINEFOLD master danced just out of reach of Bayu the Unfettered Warden’s surprisingly nimble donkey legs. It appeared to Serac that he was trying his darnedest to land a melee attack, but unable to get close enough to do so without risking a counter-kick.

The stalemate broke with a decisive move from Bayu: a pump of DIAPHRAGM that pushed out more gusts of destruction. Seeing this, Serac herself scrambled to get out of the danger area, but at the same time, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from Zacko and his strange NINEFOLD ways.

For the Manusya had responded by standing his ground and holding out his right forearm against the oncoming wind. What is he, crazy? What good is a bare forearm in the face of an actual tornado?

[Auxiliary Technique: THE FOURTH DAO—SHIELD]

Currents of DIAPHRAGMATIC wind hit Zacko’s arm and parted ways. The man himself sagged under the immense pressure, but his feet remained firmly planted in ‘tongue’, and the space directly behind him became a haven of still, non-damaging air.

Even as Serac gaped in astonishment, she found herself situated within this safe zone. And she didn’t need any mentors to tell her that this was her first clear chance to fight back.

Aim, lock—wait for the winds to die down—then fire. This time, the .44 Special whizzed past the tip of Zacko’s pompadour and found its target—within the exposed muscles that connected a Warden’s human abdomen to his donkey thorax.

[106!]

Serac looked to Bayu’s HP bar with cautious optimism… and had her hopes dashed in ruthless fashion. For the effect of one unimbued bullet had been so minimal as to be barely noticeable.

The Warden, not for nothing, was a ‘dungeon boss’—clearly a cut or two above his minions. How much HP does this guy have? Got to be at least double a Jailer’s…

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Yet, while the damage was pitiful, Serac’s shot had the effect of dividing the boss’s attention. Bayu turned in place, shuffling his donkey feet and training his laughing Buddha face onto the gun-toting Rakshasa. This in turn gave Zacko the opening he needed to dash in for his first attack in the fight.

[Auxiliary Technique: THE FIRST DAO—BLADE]

Zacko held his hand in a rigid open palm and delivered a swift hit with its edge—a karate chop!

Bayu’s HP went down by another chunk: visibly higher damage than REVOLVER’s bullet but still nowhere near enough to make a real dent. It also hadn’t been enough to achieve Poise-break, as the Warden immediately responded with a donkey kick, forcing Zacko to jump back out of range.

Serac sensed that it was her turn to act. This was the way to fight back: two Wayfarers with melee and ranged options to take turns distracting the boss. She readjusted her aim, locked, and—

[97!]

Serac’s concentration broke as something sharp and onyx-colored raked across the side of her face. Her bullet flew wide of the target. She herself tasted blood even before she felt the pain. Her HP too went down to its last discernible segment.

The attack had seemingly come out of nowhere, but she now saw that one of the Penitents had been just as persistent as it was Frenzied, having chased her down just to land that claw swipe. Serac reacted with equal parts panic and anger, lashing out with a PULVERIZER punch.

[102!]. This she quickly followed with a shot at point blank range and another punch for good measure, reducing yet another wayward soul to Souldust. REVOLVER’s cylinder emptied then, and its wielder hastened to reload at least its first chamber.

By then, the opportunity to chip away at the boss had been lost. Bayu and Zacko had already settled back into their earlier stalemate, but the former now had the clear advantage, having added two-handed swings of DIAPHRAGM to his repertoire. Zacko now had both human arms and donkey legs to worry about, and one slip-up (and a subsequent kick to his midsection) proved sufficient to send him tumbling halfway across the arena.

Now, Serac was alone with the boss. And the boss smelled blood. Bayu pivoted toward the lone Rakshasa, with DIAPHRAGM’s circular opening pointed squarely at its defenseless target. Serac raised REVOLVER to meet it, knowing there was only one thing left for her to try.

[Chamber One: CATHARSIS]

The spell, as expected, began by taking out a chunk of its caster’s HP. [127!]. That was more than enough drain the last of Serac’s HP, and it was in this transitional state between body and Souldust that she observed the outcome of her last-ditch effort.

DIAPHRAGM’s tornado swept through the arena, enveloping Serac’s fading form within its windy grasp. But she no longer took its damage nor felt the accompanying pain, leaving her free to focus on [Catharsis]’s progress. The imbued bullet, encased as it was in penitent magic, flew straight through the oncoming tornado, leaving a contrail of black flames as it did.

The bullet then made contact with the Warden’s torso, before engulfing his whole body in its magical fire. This was met by a bloodcurdling screech, heard clearly even as it issued from behind a laughing Buddha mask. Bayu dropped DIAPHRAGM to his side and flailed his mismatched arms in obvious pain and alarm, even as [Catharsis]’s three-stage damage ticked: [122!], [220!]—

And that was when Serac Edin phased fully into the Interstitium.

She never got to see that third damage tick. Never got to see the total sum of the hurt her black flames had inflicted on a laughing Buddha. Instead, she experienced anew that funny sensation of flying over the wastelands of Naraka before being sucked back into the Damnatorium’s throat.

When she came to, she was surprised to find herself sitting next to a giant lotus flower, pain-free and fully formed. This was only her second reconstitution as a Wayfarer, and she wasn’t about to get used to this strange taste of ‘immortality’ anytime soon.

The first thing she did was to inspect her surroundings and confirm that this was indeed the antechamber that housed Zacko’s Waystation, still marveling at the fact that she’d made it back here at all. Then she looked over herself via Pathsight, noting her full HP, restocked Cartridge, and… blanked Liminal Karma.

A big fat [0 क] stared back at her from the status display. All of it was gone. Not just the 300 or so she’d gone into the boss fight with, but also the additional 160 she’d picked up from dispatching a couple of Frenzied Penitents.

Serac then sought out Trippy for an imaginary shoulder to cry on. Guess you weren’t kidding about losing my Karma.

“Of course not. Balancing Karma gain against the risk of losing them is an integral part of Wayfaring. You won’t get far on this journey if you can’t consistently level your attributes along the way.”

Yeah, yeah, I get you. But you also said I can get my Karma back, right? Well? Is this an organic enough teaching opportunity for you?

“It’s quite simple, really. Whenever a Wayfarer falls to an enemy, their Liminal Karma is transferred to that enemy in a temporary state of flux. In order to recover it, you must smite the same entity that first smited you, then that packet of Karma will be transferred back to you in full, in addition to the reward that’s due.”

Right… So, all I have to do now is beat Bayu’s ass, and I get all my own Karma back plus whatever Pathsight would owe me for the smiting?

“Correct. But beware that the in-flux Karma is highly unstable. If you go back to Bayu now and fall to him again, that first packet will be permanently lost, never to be seen again.”

Only one chance to get back to the place of my ignoble defeat and put things right. Got it.

And as Serac pondered her latest of ignoble defeats, a familiar emotion bubbled up from the core of her being. It was that same nameless misgiving that had earlier prevented her from subscribing to the notion that she ought to ‘get comfortable with dying’. Only… she could give name to it now—or at least put it into concrete words.

She now realized that it wasn’t death she’d feared. No, it was that she hated losing. Hated it with a passion. Hated it enough to stoke a hitherto dormant furnace within her soul.

Right on cue, Serac’s surroundings agitated with new commotion, as if in answer to her spiritual fire. The space on the other side of the lotus flower lit up with a sparkling cloud of Souldust, before the cloud solidified into a Manusya man, complete with a coiffed pompadour and a cocky smile.

And Serac met the man’s smile with a savage grin of her own, just as outsized and twice as irreverent.

“I see dying’s done you some good,” Zacko said as his smile curled into a sneer, one meant for the Wayfarer pair’s common enemy, “and that means you and I are now ready to talk strategy.”