The third floor of this dungeon could be described with one word: “Madness”.
Mutations were more and more frequent and the individuals we fought seemed to be younger, growing up and mutating further as the battle progressed - at some point we had entered a cave with dozens of eggs. Then, one after another, they had started hatching.
We expected small, tiny reptiles, unable to even walk just yet, only capable of slowly pecking their way out of the shell to come out, yet, that was not the case. The creatures burst out, shattering the eggs as they kept on growing at ridiculous speed, not stopping their growth even after hatching. We would start the battle with a knee-sized reptile, end up killing it being human sized, just to see it keep growing even after its head was cut off.
* “What… in Mother’s name is that? Gaia, Mother of All-Life, is that abomination your child as well?” I heard one of my companions whisper to himself gazing over a pile of the monsters.
Their life essences were… bizarre. After feasting on it, it felt like a thick, muddy oil traveling down my body to my heart, finally resting there leaving a horrible ‘aftertaste’, even a sense of guilt…
… but it indeed was nutritious. Even more than that. It was ridiculous! The creatures that were smaller, weaker, and slower than Ratptoxes, yet granted twice as much life essence. That made no sense!
* “They keep on growing even after death… what in the devil’s name…” the soldier kept on mumbling to himself.
* “Don’t call the evil, idiot. It may respond!” another hissed in response.
* “Interesting, the deeper we go, the more beasts seem to be merged with plants… that’s how they can keep on living even after having their heart pierced. The plants growing within their bodies work like a second pair of organs. We can literally drain it of the blood, and it will keep on walking, fueled by this strange purple liquid alone.” The mage said, getting some of the monster’s fluids in a vial.
The creature's muscles flexed, failing in one convulsing try of slashing the researcher with its claws… despite the fact that its head lay a few meters away.
* “Great, now, the next thing we know is haveing a bunch of zombie-reptiles-plants getting up and attacking us from behind.” Captain Godrick demanded with a strict voice and serious expression.
* “They are not zombies! And that’s the fascinating part! They are not undead! Undead is a creature that died, and THEN came back but these creatures... They are… undying? Yes, that’s the difference! It’s like a completely different category!”
* “Why should I care about their classification? What does it mean for us?” Godrick almost snarled in an angry tone, not liking that the mage started a dispute with him.
* “Sir, you don’t understand what I am trying to say! If they were undead, we could treat them with holy magic, or perform an exorcism. Or cleaning rites. Here, it won’t work. They have the durability and peskiness of undead!... Without having any of their weaknesses. That’s what I have been trying to say.”
* “...So. Will fire work?” Godrick asked, seeing the other body getting up despite missing half of its guts as they kept on falling through a huge hole in its torso.
* “I hope? It still does have a body after all, smashing its central neural system would work as well. Then their moves should become random and…”
* “Cut the crap. Burn the corpses. New tactic lads! Smash it till it no longer can move, then burn it! It won't move if it doesn’t even have a bloody body to move with.”
* “Wait… Alabaster, are these the creatures that you killed?” the mage shifted his gaze to the pile I have been feasting on “...This is weird. They are not moving. Nothing. Not even flinching. Why? Is it a special technique you used?”
He moved towards the essence-deprived husk, dropping on the knee next to it and touching its limbs, first with a stick, then his own hand.
* “Okayyyyy What did you do?” he finally asked “... it’s like it lost its vitality! All these weird pseudo-organs are still there, full of that horrible purple stuff, they should be working, bah! - even forced into overdrive! But, they just... don’t.”
I gave a bit of a panicked gaze towards the captain, wordlessly asking for help.
* “I… did the very same thing I have been doing all this time?” I answered nervously.
Technically, I wasn’t lying.
* “... and I am quite sure that I won’t be able to tell you anything that you would be able to use later on, for the sake of fighting them.” I followed up quickly.
Still not lying.
* “Alabaster. We are in a bloody S rank dungeon! If you know anything, you need to share it with us! This can save someone’s life!” the mage’s tone changed, now he almost sounded angered at me.
* “Cut it off! I live only thanks to Alabaster!” the soldier who I saved pushing him off the trajectory of the dragon's attack took my side “... he literally jumps in front of the dragon to save his comrades! How hard it is for you to understand! If he doesn’t say anything, then he truly doesn’t know!”
The mage wanted to say something - I could tell by the way he opened and shut his mouth a couple of times, but, eventually, he just shook his head sighing and giving up.
We started regrouping, getting ready to resume the match, as Captain Godrick pulled me to the side.
* “Don’t mind him, he was informed about everything…” he said to me while pointing at the mage with his head “...Was his point valid though?” he asked
* “I… Yes. These plants, whatever they are, are pumping their bodies with corrupted life force. Life force, on which I feed. I am simply sucking off the power that keeps it moving before it can manifest, it’s separate from the blood or the purple fluid.”
* “How quickly does it take to drain a body off this… essence?” he kept on prying.
* “Depends on the size and power… but these creatures? Few seconds per individual.”
* Great. Then, we can easily cover it up. The House already spread a rumor about your mysterious, yet surely noble lineage. Here, hold this…” he said, tossing me a small pendant “... we will just spread another rumor - that this pendant is your heirloom. Something you’ve always had, but knew little about it. It is not that uncommon for nobles to carry such artifacts. Later, we will just say that this pendant is responsible for your… draining abilities. Can you work with that story?”
* “I… don’t like lying to my comrades, Sir… But, the least I can do is to keep the truth for myself, letting them believe in whatever they wish to.” I said after a moment of battling with my thoughts.
* “You are too honest, Alabaster. That’s not necessarily a good trait despite how it sounds.”
* “Well, being a dishonest undead with you seems like a quick way to get myself on the pyre.”
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
* “Ha! Fair enough. We are about to change formations, you were just marching for four hours on the front line… but, can you keep on going?” true concern sparkled in his eyes.
* “Yes, Captain-Commander.” I responded, tilting my head slightly in confusion. “You know that I do not get tired.”
* “Physically, yes. Sometimes, it's not the body that is too weak, but the mind that is too overburdened with pressure of blood and death that slows us down.” his voice was weirdly soft.
* “As long as my presence can reduce the chances of others getting wounded or killed, I don’t mind such burdens.”
Captain went quiet for a few minutes, eventually nodding his head slightly
* “In that case, back in the line, Cadet!”
* “Sir, yes sir!” I saluted, straightening my back and hitting my chest with a fist. Then, I turned and took the place in the front line.
And then, we resumed our onward march.
For two more days. Nothing much changed. Slow march deeper in. Covered in blood. Dust and dirt, battling the mutated, crazy with hunger and wrath creatures, stopping only once every twelve hours, to rest for six to eight before marching out again.
I could see how everyone’s endurance was gradually dropping. The first few days, they paid no attention to the quick tempo of clearing the dungeon - pushing their bodies to the limits was what they had trained for after all. But then, after a couple of days, a slight change in their attitude could be noticed. They had become dull, their skin would turn sickly-pale, and the jokes that they shared to raise morale were becoming more vulgar, offensive, or sarcastic.
And now, they had nearly stopped talking, limiting their conversations only to reporting their duties. They appeared almost like undead, but without even a drive to continue fighting.
A day earlier, Captain Godrick ordered the medics and healers, reluctantly, to hand the soldiers special stamina drugs. Nasty ones - addictive and having other, unpleasant side effects. For once - knights were becoming more and more aggressive, becoming slightly less organized and harder to command as the cost.
That was greatly shown by the shield bearers - these warriors were supposed to hold the line, taking blows and stopping enemies from running past their formation.
But, it required them to stand still, taking attacks, but the now drugged up masses of muscles - which these knights were - hardly enjoyed being hit over and over again, and, every now and then, would break their line on purpose, just to start paying back their enemies for all the damage that they have caused.
And once the monsters lied dead, broken, deprived of essence - even then, they wouldn’t stop, massacring the corpses, revealing their stress and frustrations.
* “Fucking… Piece… Of… Shit!... Fuck… You… And… Your… Whore… Of… A… Mother!”
The soldier kept on cursing between the attacks, turning the body into a pulp of grinded bones and disemboweled guts with roots and leaves mixed in. The sad thing was that I knew this warrior - days ago he was the one ending the life of the colossal tortoise, risking getting wounded just to spare the creature of its suffering, saying that ‘we all are the children of the same earth’.
It is truly frightening what drugs can do even to the noblest and most caring of us.
At night, some of the knights would move into secluded places of the camp and cry, yell, or even scratch the walls, while holding pendants with pictures of their beloved.
* “Be strong, Arnold. Remember why you are doing this. Remember who you fight for…” a huge man cried, rocking back and forth, thinking that no one was looking at him.
They never mentioned THAT in the recruiting pamphlets or books.
When you read stories about adventurers conquering a dungeon, you only read about the part with killing monsters, solving puzzles, and avoiding traps. Advertisements posted in the guild and around town would extoll these virtues and tales for all their worth as well.
Authors never mention days spent in the dark, deprived of natural light, they never wrote about eating the same, tasteless rations of lumps of fat - only to fill you with energy to keep on going.
They don’t mention the lack of places to wash yourself, so the longer you fought, the more covered in blood and sweat you became.
They never spoke about going to ‘relieve their bladders and bowels’ in groups, afraid of being attacked with their ‘pants down’.
In books, you would never read about ‘side effects of drugs’. If the hero of the book took them, you would only find a phrase ‘feeling the potion burning his guts, the hero found a new strength to continue fighting against his foes’. There would be not a single word about it messing with your head, making you act like an animal. After all, the hero was the hero, why bother mentioning such inconvenient things.
Finally, the heroes that eventually conquered the dungeon would be described to be ‘as pure as they entered it’. In reality, when for nearly nine days they kept battling with beasts trying to kill them - rip them to shreds; when for days they saw only jaws stretched to bite and claws wanting to slash their throat open…
… something in them would surely change. They would adapt. Start resembling what they had fought.
The enemy wants to slice your neck open and drink from it like from a fountain? Well, it better hurry, for there are very similar plans being made towards it.
Shades under Godrick’s eyes were getting darker and darker, and though he still acted in absolute control, calm and calculating, I saw him once literally pulling hair off his head, mumbling something about not being prepared for the dungeon of this rank and blaming himself for loss of too many people.
Everyone was getting more and more chaotic. Captain’s orders were becoming more aggressive. Knights' actions were becoming more violent, and even chants of the mages became less of the prayers, and more direct commands to goddesses and spirits - which resulted in spells becoming less stable, eventually catching even a few allies in a radius of their spells.
Thankfully, no serious damage was done because of these - just some minor burns, scratches, and lots of swearing.
All this time I kept on marching at the very front of the formation - the rumor about my pendant 'banishing evil' has already started spreading across the group and my presence on the frontline was considered a blessing while my relentless fight on the frontline without taking a rest as a selfless sacrifice. In reality, almost everything I did, was just feasting.
[2911/4250] ➝ [Level up] ➝ [986/4500]
Name: Asteruse Race: Skeleton Knight [Undead] [Self-aware Variant] Level: 5 [986/4500] Attributes: STR: 75 (+4)
VIT: 76 (+4)
END: ∞
RFX: 58 (+3)
DEX: 59 (+2)
INT: 32 (+1)
WIS: 26 (+1)
SPI: 9 (+0)
And then, around noon of the tenth day, we stopped in front of yet another boss’s chamber.
The opening into a long, dark corridor was huge, with floor, walls, and ceiling completely covered in long, thick, roots of some black tree… Or maybe it appeared black only because of the darkness in the room?
Still. From within, a sound could be heard. Monotonous. Resonating across whole area,
Ba-dum. Ba-dum
The sound resembled a heart beating.
* “We did it, lads. We reached the end of this hell-hole.” one of Godrick’s lieutenants whispered more to himself than anyone else “... and I fucking swear, as soon as the last of these fuckers is dead, someone better hold me, or I might smash The Heart.”
Ba-dum. Ba-dum.
Wait-wait-wait. Until now, I thought that the whole dungeon’s heart thing was just a saying! I thought that it was just some condensated source of power! Crystal or altar… or even a monster that became one with the place!... It can’t be an actual living organ, right? RIGHT?!
Well, regardless of that, the attack squad should now rest - set up camp, treat their wounds, drink and eat some light food, to power up but not slow them down. Only then would we be ready to attack - that’s what common sense dictated at least. And true, in most other dungeons this would be the standard affair.
* “Soldiers! Into formation!” Godrick yelled, with a bit more force and yearning in his voice than normal.
I took my place, though, greatly surprised. Usually building the camp did not require you to do that - everyone knew what needed to be done.
* “Prepare ballista! Mages, ready the spells!”
Waaait. Wait wait wait wait... That didn’t sound like commands given before setting up a camp, I could risk the suggestion, that these were pre-combat commands.
Why? Why would the captain order exhausted and wounded knights to match onward like that?!
I glanced around and the knight had an almost animalistic look which, combined with their almost undead composure, was eerie but also highlighted their stressed states.
Back then, I didn’t realize that Godrick was fully aware of his orders. That he did that because he knew the condition of his soldiers. He knew that another delay and another dose of drugs would be far more lethal than any encounter with the boss itself.
Instead, he decided to use their anger. Knowing that they are so close to finishing their job and returning to their homes would fill the hearts of the knights with sick, twisted motivation and new-found energy.
These battled, sick-looking knights, some of them breathing heavily with each step they made, were most likely in their prime battling-state. Not paying attention to their wounds, nor any danger, they marched onward with a pure desire to butcher everything in their path.
Oh, the irony. At that moment, the noble knights resembled the undead more than I did.
Skill proficiency increased Skills:
[Sword Usage - Advanced level 2 ➝ 3]
[Shield Usage - Journeyman level 19 ➝ 22]
[Bow Usage - Apprentice level 1]
[Nature Magic - Novice level 1]
[Mana Sense - Low - Passive]
[Life sense - Medium - Passive]
[Combat Maneuver/Team tactic - Apprentice level 9 ➝ 10]
[Heavy Armor Usage - Apprentice level 10]
[Hand-to-hand Combat - Novice level 4]
[Stealth - Apprentice level 2]
[Mind Magic Resistance - Low level 1]
[Dark Arts - Curse Words - Novice Level 10]
[Dark Arts - Necromancy - Novice Level 6]
[Tracking - Novice Level 2]