Orion, Shadow, and Arika continued their deadly path through the maze, leaving clouds of poison and scores of dead bodies in their wake. The process had become much safer with Shadow by their side.
Geckos came crawling over the top of structures, but were easily taken care of with the three party members together—and the occasional cloud of noxious gas, of course. Two of the leaping armadillos had also ignored Orion’s meticulous maze, choosing to fly over buildings and constructed walls instead of being good little mobs and following the linear path. Much like most of the geckos, they all died efficiently by Shadow’s sword.
The thing that worried Orion the most about the geckos and armadillos circumventing the maze wasn’t their safety, it was that the monsters might reach the center of the town and the defenseless townsfolk within. He knew that a number of the capable guards—and even two Captains—were stationed there, just in-case such an event were to occur. Still, he couldn’t help but let the possibility worry him.
They’d started using some of the stone doorways Shadow had placed beneath the large piles of stone-bricks that comprised the blockades in the street. Opening one up allowed them to draw the attention of the monsters already filling the maze, letting them both take out a large number of enemies at once, and create gaps in the creatures that would eventually reach them. After dispensing slaughter, they closed up the doorways—causing monsters that came afterwards to find nothing but a closed path.
Orion knew the maze would only be effective so long as the giant molten snail didn’t reach the town, so he endeavored to waste as much time as possible while thinning out the enemy forces. As soon as the less-attacked gates were safe, the defenders from those sections would come and bolster the defenses of the north and east gates—something that they would no doubt need in order to stand a chance versus the approaching gastropods.
Orion knew little about the defense that Honeypot was conducting, though from the few brief messages he’d received from his intentionally obfuscating friend, he knew it was going to plan. Honeypot also mentioned that Fener and the rest of Monte Cristo’s hand were down there with him—Orion spared a moment to pray for their mental fortitude, subjected to the Priest of chaos as they were.
Honeypot was probably keeping everyone in the dark on purpose, intent on getting bonus experience from the chaos sewn, or some other, equally frustrating Honeypot-esque reason. He tried not to let it bother him too much.
“How long do we have?” Arika asked as she tenderly touched her almost healed leg.
“I’d guess another thirty-minutes, max.” Orion looked up above the roofs that surrounded them, seeing the first rays of sunlight beginning to lighten the morning sky.
“Want me to go check?” Shadow asked, who received a nod from Orion and began climbing a drainpipe. He reached the top quickly, getting to his feet and looking out toward the northern gate.
“Uhhhh. I think you guys might want to see this.”
Orion looked at Arika, who nodded in affirmation, so he teleported them both to the rooftop. He looked out to the northern gate and swore. They had much less than thirty-minutes before the boss reached the town; the entire view from the gap of the open gateway was filled with the body of the volcanic gastropod.
He could still see the top of its shell from above the wall, putting into perspective just how large the monster was. The area of dead grass before it appeared just as large as the remaining green grass before nature met the cobbled-street of the city. He hoped the gate would stall the creature for at least a little while, but he held no illusions that the wooden structure would stand a chance against the creature’s molten body.
Orion couldn’t see the four slugs that had been advancing beside the snail, but that was likely because they were now blocked from view by the raised wall. He squinted, realizing he couldn’t see any more of the smaller creatures that had been traveling with the boss. The square just inside the gate was visible too, and the addition creatures weren’t there, either.
He was aware they’d killed quite a number of enemy creatures in their death-maze, but nowhere near enough to account for the amount now missing. Now that he thought about it, they had been seeing less-and-less of the monsters, the waves of them coming—and subsequently receiving a Blood Mist Potion to the collective face—having larger gaps between.
Something felt wrong, and dread blossomed within him.
If they aren’t here… where are they?
***
Honeypot plugged his ears with one finger as all three of his personal bombardiers released their explosive payloads.
The group of centipede-like creatures had caught them off guard, appearing from a direction entirely unexpected. The monsters found a path through the sewers that led them behind the group of adventurers. There was another group of monsters on the other side the adventurers were slowly retreating from, but the latter group had an acute case of psychosis-by-sausage, meaning they were currently engaged in a fight to the death with each other.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
“Was getting ganked by a group of ten-legged monsters part of your plan, Rogue?” Tallon asked in his gravelly voice.
“First off, I’m a Priest. Second off, don’t be ridiculous—they have way more than ten legs, closer to thirty than twenty, even.” Honeypot bent down, inspecting a chunk of the creatures in question and pointing at it accusingly. “Treyu, count its legs.”
Treyu bent down, also inspecting the section of dead bug. “Seems impossible, boss. They’re in a lot of pieces. How am I supposed to know which one is which?”
“Just add them all up, then divide them by four—there were four, right?”
“I think so, but I don’t think that will work, on account of most of the legs being turned into mist.”
“Indeed,” Honeypot conceded, “Unless we can take one alive, we will never know.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Tallon yelled, obviously not mentally resilient enough to withstand the barrage of Honeypotisms.
“Don’t get mad at me,” Honeypot said. “I’m not the one that blew all the legs up. If you three weren’t so effective, we could just count some legs and be done with it!”
Tallon turned to Fener.
“Are we really best served by following this joker around in the sewers? Surely we can be more useful elsewhere.”
“Well, you can hardly argue with the results.” Fener pointed down the tunnel to where only three creatures were left alive, two of which were clearly under the effect of Honeypot’s treats. The nymph and wolf both frothed at the mouth, biting at each other and the third creature, an unaffected centipede.
“Treyu! Look!” Honeypot pointed at the creatures. “A centipede! Count the legs quickly, before the wolf eats any!”
“And you…” Fener looked at Honeypot. “Stop being such a dick. We’re working together here, and while I realize you’re enjoying yourself, you’re having fun at other people’s expense.”
Honeypot paused, appearing to think on her words. “You know what? You’re right. I’m sorry.” He pointed to Treyu. “Read the thing.”
“Which thing, boss?”
“You know, the thing…” Honeypot waved his hands ambiguously. “The apology thing.”
“Ohhhhh,” Treyu drawled in understanding, then began checking his pockets. He pulled out a folded piece of paper and read it for a few seconds before shaking his head and putting it back. This happened two more times, only finding the correct piece of paper on the fourth attempt, which he then read aloud.
“Honeypot, head priest of the aspect of chaos, wishes to expend—”
“Extend,” Honeypot corrected.
“Extend…” Treyu looked at Honeypot and waited for any more interruptions before continuing, “… his humblest apologies to you for any actions taken against you and or your family and or your belongings. He is merely acting in his capacity as a devout follower of chaos, and as such, his actions may seem confusing and potentially hostile to those of lesser comprehension. He wishes to assure you that—”
Treyu cut off as a wave of sound hit the party, coming from the direction of the now-dead wolf, nymph, and centipede corpses. The sound was a mix of chittering, the scrape of carapace and claw on stone, and the snarl of creatures unknown.
“Off we go!” Honeypot yelled, turning and running. The rest followed him, and as they ran, Honeypot turned to Treyu, shooting him a questioning glance.
“What… is it… boss?” Treyu huffed back, his unfit body protesting the impromptu cardio.
“Finish the apology to our new friends, Treyu.” Honeypot turned to Fener. “Sorry, he’s not usually this rude. I don’t know where he gets it from…”
***
Gizmo rolled like he’d never rolled before.
He took pride in his work, knowing that by his efforts, the surrounding defenders could continue to rain down death upon the invaders below. His senses could tell that the sun was rising, and that soon his effort would not be required—until that time came, he would roll.
Part of him could not wait until his lighting-related mobility would no longer be required, because then he could remount his Giz-bow and dispense death to those that would dare attack the town he and his party resided in.
The sun continued to climb, and Gizmo stopped the moment he judged there to be sufficient light for humans to see by. He extended his head and legs, intending to jump back on his siege weapon. Instead, he found himself staring into an eye the size of his head.
His vision scaled back, and he saw that the head of a gecko was poking over the wall, its one eye staring at him intently.
He inspected it.
Flame Crested Gecko
“Oh. Hello, friend. Are you here to help, or—”
The lizard bit Gizmo, the entirety of his metal head fitting inside the thing’s mouth.
Gizmo responded by raising his buzz-saw attachment from the top of his head, resulting in the lizard spitting him out and retreating over the wall.
“Incoming attackers!” Captain Blanc yelled. “Some are on the gates, more are coming from the north! Focus fire at the base of the walls!”
Gizmo poked his head over the wall, instantly assessing the sight before him. Geckos covered the outer wall. He thought he saw the one that bit him—it stared at him, blood dripping from its mouth.
Past the geckos, there were larger lizards covered in spikes, all arranged at the base of the gates. They shot what looked like molten slag at the doors, and the great slabs of wood smoked and burned where they had been hit. The molten shots continued to rain out, and according to his calculations, the door would lose its durability within minutes, if not seconds.
Behind the spiky-lizards was a line of ground dwelling mammals that appeared to be mid combustion, but their bodies didn’t seem to burn away with the flames. As he watched, one launched itself off its back legs, headed for a group of adventurers that were not looking, and by his best guess, the flaming mammal would crush them were it to follow its current trajectory.
Scattered between the other creatures at the base of the wall were rabbit-sized mice, covered in jagged-looking plates of armor. They ran around, all-the-while making jittery movements with their faces and wiping their forepaws over their jagged armor with obsessive fervor.
Gizmo ran the numbers and deduced that the force that had just arrived, along with those that were already here and steadily advancing from the forest, presented a threat that the current amount of defenders could not hope to match.
He sprang into action.