It took a bit of doing, but Burt managed to escape from his sister just a short while after the family dinner. He had always been quite open about the dungeon with Elicia and Zed, as well as how it had been helping him to calm some of his inner demons.
It was only because Elicia had known that Burt would be watching over the children that she had ever agreed to them entering the dungeon, despite knowing that they would sneak off to do just that at some point in time or another.
However, that did not mean that the brats were going to escape a talking-to from Elicia and their parents. Well, aside from Hera. She and Burt would speak later, but that did not mean that Elicia would allow Hera to avoid getting an ear full.
Hera had been fully adopted by Burt’s family, in some ways, even more than he himself had. She had grown up with Burt’s grandnieces and nephews, and Burt knew that the girl saw Elicia as her grandmother.
That certainly made for a rather odd dynamic, with Burt acting as the girl’s father, but as the years had passed, everyone but Burt had continued to age apace. At least to outsiders, Burt looked just old enough to be Hera’s father, while young enough to be Elicia’s son.
He was not entirely sure what it was that was keeping him from aging, but even if it was the dungeon, Burt could not stop visiting it.
In fact, that was where he was headed again.
Burt whipped through the forest like a shadow. The way that he could move without a sound or so much as rustling the leaves still thrilled him.
As he had moved through the dungeon, he had not only picked up glowing orbs that granted him physical improvements, he had acquired multiple skills. Unfortunately, he had never found any spells, and Burt had resigned himself to the fact that he would never do any magic at all.
In almost no time, Burt was back at the entrance of the dungeon, covering the distance from the village in a fraction of the time it had taken the youths. After all, from what Burt had pieced together, each level matched the strength of a normal person, and given the level Burt had attained, well, he was still learning all that he was capable of.
He breezed through the tunnel connecting to the first chamber of the dungeon, and brushed through the cavern without producing so much as a swirl of snow.
He descended deeper and deeper, soon arriving at the fifth level, which was the furthest he had proceeded to date. The beasts on this level were an average of level 70, which was just the right sort of challenge for Burt.
While he had managed to keep the fact hidden, all of Burt’s clothing and weapons had been acquired from the dungeon, as regular knives and arrows simply could not do anything to the creatures of the third level, let alone the fifth.
The man’s pace finally slowed when he entered the fifth section of the dungeon. This was not a chamber, but a maze of ice caves. The ice was entirely transparent, and it warped and twisted his vision, while also making it nearly impossible for anything to remain unseen, including Burt himself. After all, his skill made it very clear that Burt needed something to hide him, whether it was an object, a person, or even a shadow, none of which existed in the glacial maze.
Each level of the dungeon grew consecutively colder, and even Burt started to feel the chill on the fifth level. Fortunately, he had some rather warm winter gear that he kept in one of his hidden packs that he kept scattered about. He had collected his current coat, hat, and fingerless gloves from a pack in the tunnel between the fourth and fifth levels of the dungeon.
He still could not believe how soft and warm yeti fur was, and even if Elicia told him the name was stupid, Burt was sticking to it. If he was the first one to discover and kill the monsters, then he would be the one to name them.
He proceeded to silently slink about the caves. He had started to understand a bit of how the texture of the walls altered the images that passed through the clear ice, and so he did his best to move through them in a way that kept his image as small as possible, should there be any creatures on the other sides of the walls.
After a few minutes of caution, Burt finally came across his first monster. Unsurprisingly, it was an ice elemental. The almost-creatures looked like large humans made of crystalline ice, though slightly deformed. Their arms were long and hung past their knees, and their backs were hunched in an unhealthy manner. Their legs were short and bowed, while their torsos were long and slender. They also had heads, though Burt had no idea what purpose they served. The non-living things could continue along perfectly fine even without a head.
Fortunately, one of Burt’s skills allowed him to use his body’s energy to allow him to see things that should be invisible. With this skill, he could see in the dark, but more importantly, he could see certain aspects of magic.
This was why Burt knew that the core of the ice elemental before him was in its left foot. So long as he destroyed that piece of the elemental’s body, the entire thing would collapse.
Or shatter. Hopefully the first and not the second, because the second was painful, and he had struggled to find a way to explain frostbite in the summer to Hera.
Burt tried to sneak up on the elemental, but just the same as always, the moment he was within thirty paces of the thing, it noticed him and spun around to face him.
Icicles shot out from the creature with a blast of cold wind. Burt twirled around two before ducking under several more. He knew better than to leave the ground, as he could move much, much faster when there was a surface to push off from.
He ducked under a glistening spike of ice that tried to remove his head, and found himself right in front of his frozen opponent.
A quick glance confirmed that the core was still in the elemental’s left foot, and Burt ducked to the right while avoiding a swing of an arm. He then tucked and rolled between its legs while his knife snaked out to stab the core in the ice that formed the elemental’s foot.
That quickly, the battle was over, though Burt was buried in ice as the elemental collapsed instead of shattering.
Only then did he acknowledge the box that had appeared as soon as he had looked at the creature. They only appeared within the dungeon, but Burt had learned that so long as he was in the dungeon, the boxes of information could not be avoided, no matter how much he tried.
The elemental had only been level 40, which explained the quick and easy victory. Hopefully he would find something more challenging soon.
While Burt understood that level was the average of all of the stats that a human or creature had, he had come to realize just how worthless it was to rely on such numbers.
If the ice elemental had possessed seventy vitality and just ten strength, that still averaged out to level 40. Humans or beasts that had a distinct weakness while also having a very clear strength could be absolutely terrifying.
Burt continued through the ice caves, taking out the odd monster from time to time. The ice caves were relatively monotonous as far as monsters were concerned, though Burt had never challenged the boss. The massive creature remained unique throughout the entire dungeon.
There were stories and legends about the various ancient creatures that had supposedly once contested humans for supremacy, but Burt had always considered them to be the pointless ramblings of the temples. Elves and dwarves and giants had always just sounded like exaggerated versions of normal people Burt had met throughout his life, and so he had always regarded the stories about such creatures to be nothing of consequence. However, there was no question that the guardian of the fifth level of the dungeon was a giant.
The beast looked like a thicker, taller version of a human, though the facial features were more bestial than any human Burt had ever seen.
Most impressively, the creature was a full ten paces tall, which was one of the biggest reasons Burt had not yet challenged it. He had watched the frost-covered giant from a distance, observing and studying it, and had seen how tough its skin was. There was absolutely no chance of Burt’s arrows penetrating that hide.
If it was necessary to fight the giant up close, Burt had not had any idea how he should go about attacking above the waist of the giant. His improved physique allowed him to jump quite high, but he would become a predictable target the moment his feet left the ground. On the other hand, so long as Burt remained on the ground, it would be difficult for him to attack more than the giant’s feet and ankles.
Fortunately, Burt’s last trip to the dungeon had granted him a bit of inspiration. On one of the upper levels, there were large weasels that could send out blades of wind to attack. The slashes could not travel very far, and the beasts themselves were smaller than just about anything else in the dungeon.
However, one of the beasts, instead of using its claws to climb its victim and attack up close, had lured a much, much larger wolf into a secluded wooded area. There, the weasel had started to jump from the trunk of one tree to another, shooting horizontally through the air as it had attacked the wolf.
The odd manner of attack that was only possible with a dungeon-improved body had resonated with Burt, and when he had later seen the frost giant again in the ice cave, Burt had looked around and seen how he could use the same strategy.
However, he had already realized that he needed to lure the giant into a smaller section of the cave, as the giant’s chamber was proportionate to its massive size. The walls of the cavern were too far apart for Burt to utilize, and he had spent much of that last trip to the dungeon scouting the frozen caves searching for an appropriate location.
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He had succeeded, but since the walls were all ice, he needed to find a way to ensure that he did not lose his footing and slip. Instead of immediately challenging the beast, Burt had returned home, intending to find some sort of spikes or nails that he could strap to his boots to prevent him from slipping on the ice.
He had finally been happy with what he felt would be an effective solution when he had learned that Hera and the other children were planning to attack the dungeon. Immediately, their safety had taken priority, and so Burt had put off returning to the dungeon until after the youngsters had tried their hand. Youths were unpredictable, and it was easy for Burt to see Hera taking advantage of his absence to strike out early.
They had already visited the dungeon, and were both tired and preoccupied with Elicia, which offered the perfect opportunity for Burt to challenge the frost giant.
After cleaning out the section of the dungeon that he had chosen for his upcoming battle, Burt made his way over to the frost giant. Upon seeing the monstrous creature, Burt took a long moment to settle his mind and run through his plans and preparations one last time. There was a reason he had survived so long in the dungeon on his own, and he had every intention of returning to Hera unharmed. Hopefully victorious.
Mind stilled, heart calmed, and preparations readied, Burt took a deep breath and drew his bow. Taking careful aim, he drew his bow to the limit and loosed the arrow.
The small projectile sliced through the air, higher and higher. It rose up, but did not drop back down. Burt needed the giant enraged, and few things could do that better than a needle in the eye.
This was the riskiest portion of the plan, as all that needed to happen for Burt to fail was for the giant to turn its head or even just blink. If either thing happened, the arrow would accomplish practically nothing, aside from alerting the giant to Burt’s presence.
He held his breath for the few moments that the arrow was in flight.
When it was nearly to the creature’s head, the giant turned to look. Burt’s heart clenched. This was it.
Fortunately, the giant’s head turned so far that Burt’s arrow struck the eye that he had not been aiming for. While technically a failure, it was a success in the fact that Burt could still carry out the rest of his plan.
As the giant roared with pain and rage, Burt stepped into its sight and fired more arrows, ensuring that the beast saw both the arrows and Burt himself.
The moment the creature caught sight of Burt, its massive hand rose up to block the arrows from striking the giant’s face.
With its left hand occupied, Burt almost missed when the giant’s right hand reached out and grabbed an icicle from the floor of the cavern.
Before Burt could even blink, a spiked projectile larger than his body was hurtling through the air in an attempt to skewer him to the wall. He dashed to the side, driven by reflexes rather than any conscious attempt to dodge.
Fortunately, Burt’s eyes never left the giant, as the massive creature was right behind its frozen spear, already charging.
Mission accomplished, Burt turned and fled to his chosen location.
As he shot down the tunnels of clear ice, the man was forced to dodge the occasionally thrown icicle while avoiding his own random traps.
The giant was not particularly fast on its feet, but its size meant that it could easily move far faster than a human.
Burt had left a few ropes taut across the tunnels to serve as trip wires or choke wires, but despite his preparations, the giant barrelled straight through every trap without even slowing.
Their battlefield soon entered Burt’s sight, and he accelerated. He had been keeping his pace slow enough that he would not lose the giant, but that no longer mattered.
Its quarry vanishing caused the one-eyed giant to let out another roar, and the dungeon seemed to tremble under the force of the beast’s voice.
Without even slowing his pace, the giant slammed a fist sideways against the cave wall, shattering the ice and opening a hole to the adjoining passage.
Blasting into a smaller chamber, the giant looked around for its prey. There were four exits from the chamber that barely cleared the giant’s head.
As the shaggy head turned, its one functioning eye barely caught a flicker of movement as something whizzed by.
A long knife opened the giant’s jugular on its blinded side as Burt flew across the cavern. Blood so dark it might as well have been black leaked out, and a hand snapped up to cover the wound. The head turned to look at Burt, only for him to flicker by again.
With the spikes clamped to his shoes giving him traction, Burt shot across the chamber of ice, faster and faster. Each time he passed by the giant, another cut opened up on the creature’s body.
Burt’s blades were long for knives, but not quite large enough to be considered swords. Because of this, none of the wounds he left were very deep, and it looked like he would need to bleed the giant dry in order to kill it.
Up and down the man moved, always trying to aim for an unprotected location of the giant’s body. The leather loincloth was avoided, as the hide was likely even tougher than the giant’s own skin.
Not to mention, Burt really, really did not want to see what lay beneath the barely functioning scrap of clothing.
Shooting over the ground, Burt’s knife flickered out to cut the tendon behind the giant’s ankle.
Suddenly, Burt found himself flying in a very different direction than he had expected. His arm and shoulder ached, as it had very nearly been torn from its socket.
He tumbled over the ice, flailing and scrambling to avoid the giant’s foot as it stomped down to crush the little pest on the ground.
Still a bit confused by the sudden turn of events, Burt barely managed to gain his feet and start racing around the chamber again as he examined the giant and tried to understand what had just happened.
As Burt studied his target, he realized that the giant was no longer bleeding from any of the wounds the knives had opened. On top of that, it became clear that the giant’s tendons were stronger than steel. The knife had cut through the skin on the creature’s ankle, only to be stopped by the underlying tendon. Burt’s momentum and sudden stop had nearly torn the knife from his hand, but given his years of training, he had kept a hold of his weapon, only to nearly lose his arm.
The giant’s vitality was terrifying, as it could almost instantly heal from any of the wounds Burt could deliver. The only wound that failed to heal was the creature’s eye, which still had an arrow embedded in it.
Burt resumed his attacks, but his mind was preoccupied with trying to find a means of wounding the giant permanently, as the current method was clearly insufficient.
The giant grew more enraged as its wounds accumulated. Even if they healed quickly, the creature was losing blood from the countless shallow cuts that riddled its body.
Finally, the frost giant had had enough. Ignoring Burt, the creature shook itself, raised its head, and roared at the ceiling while stomping its feet.
The dungeon trembled beneath the force of each stomp, and Burt nearly lost his footing as he tried to dodge the ice shards raining from the ceiling.
However, he had already seen his chance.
He shot back and forth across the chamber, rising into the air with each leap.
By the giant’s third stomp, Burt was even with its shoulders, and he flew across the chamber and opened the beast’s throat. Before the giant could even react, Burt shot back in the same path again, his knives returning to the giant’s throat.
A wedge of flesh fell as the giant’s roar was reduced to a wet gurgle. While the creature could heal shockingly quickly, it had already become apparent to Burt that the beast could not heal perfectly, or else the arrow would already have been driven from its left eye.
Burt’s assault never relented for a moment, and while the threat of the giant’s fists prevented the man from returning to the creature’s throat, the wheezing he heard from the opening and the slowing of the giant’s swipes proved that it was weakening.
Every opening was exploited, and every weakness was targeted. Burt picked up his speed, pushing himself harder to move faster than he ever had before. He knew he was tough, but if the giant managed to land even a single blow, there was no chance of survival.
The minutes trickled by slowly. Each second felt like an eternity in the face of instant death. Burt’s mind was focused and his body answered his every demand.
The dark blood covered both Burt and the giant from head to toe as the fight dragged on. It was a good thing that Burt was leaping off of the walls to attack, as blood had pooled up on the floor, making the footing there treacherous.
Slashing at the giant’s ear, the creature turned its head, and Burt’s knife slammed against its skull, snapping the blade. He drew one of his backups, but it was both shorter and weaker, and thus failed to do much of anything.
Burt quickly tossed the useless blade aside and focused on his one remaining good knife.
A lifetime of war and battle meant that the man was more than familiar with each point on a human body that bled more easily, and he made sure to check if that knowledge applied to his enormous foe.
The giant started to visibly weaken, as his eyelids started to droop and his fists started to slow. Burt remained cautious, and stomped his rising excitement down and shoved it aside. Giving in to the exhilaration of victory before a fight was truly over was a good way to end up dead.
Finally, the creature stumbled, and its shoulder slammed into a wall of the chamber.
Burt was on it in an instant, his lone knife piercing the giant’s back, seeking his kidney. The muscles proved too thick, but the lack of a reaction proved to Burt that the giant was nearly finished.
Again and again the knife shot out, slashing and stabbing as the giant slumped and slid down the wall to collapse onto the floor.
There was nothing to indicate that the giant was dead. His eyes did not close, and there was nothing to announce Burt’s victory. He had no idea how long he had been attacking a corpse when he finally noticed that the body was starting to disappear.
Chest heaving, Burt collapsed against the side of the chamber. While he was already completely covered with blood, he had no desire to splash into the pool of it on the floor.
As he recovered his breath and calmed back down, Burt watched as the giant’s corpse faded away.
There was no doubt that this had been Burt’s most difficult fight in the dungeon, though there had been fights when he had been in the military that had been much closer. After all, Burt had not taken a single wound from the giant, though to be fair, if he had, it would have been an instant loss.
Finally, the giant’s corpse was entirely gone, and all that remained was a glowing orb.
However, this orb was different from any other Burt had seen in the dungeons. Not only was it more of a golden color, it was larger than his head.
Slowly and hesitantly, Burt stood up and made his way towards his prize, uncertain of what he had gained.
He stretched out a hand, but instead of the light instantly streaming into his body, the orb remained in place and something suddenly appeared in Burt’s vision.
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