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Chapter 7

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The "Lost" Dungeon, Unnamed Island, Kalenic Sea

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Felin took point as the party entered the triangular passage, though it was a little tight for someone his size. He held a freshly-lit torch in his left hand, illuminating the tunnel before him. Light from the flickering flames revealed the roughly-hewn walls of the tunnel, the black sand beneath their feet, and the next dozen yards of the tunnel before it curved off.

He grunted and pushed forwards, the rest of the group following behind. Layla was second, Herna in third, with Teak watching behind them in fourth. After a minute of quiet walking, the walls of the passage narrowed, leaving an even smaller gap. With a frown, Felin pushed through. Just as he managed to navigate the almost too-tight tunnel, his armor got caught on an outcropping of rock he hadn't noticed. Frowning, he turned his head to get a better look at it.

It was a hand. A hand made of stone. With uncommon delicacy, Felin removed the caught strap and grunted at Layla. She looked it over with a curious hum.

"Not human, as far as I can tell. Never was human. The proportions are wrong, and as far as I can See, it's normal rock." He nodded and moved on. It took another five minutes of twists and turns until the tunnel ahead became illuminated by a familiar teal light.

As they emerged from the darkened tunnel, they first noticed the light in the cavern roof. Identical to the one in the first cavern, as far as Felin could tell. Second, this cavern wasn't as barren as the previous one. It was filled with rock formations; huge stalactites and stalagmites merged into columns and walls that divided the area.

As Layla followed him in, Felin saw the frown lines on her forehead.

"I don't know how much help I'll be here. The dungeon has saturated all the rock in this area with mana, enough that I won't be able to tell which is a monster. No dungeon would just... waste this much mana. It's done this as a direct counter to my abilities." She concluded, to frowns and agitated mutters from Felin and their two other party members. Nonetheless, they moved on.

They were led on a back-and-forth pattern, twisting past more stone arms and towering stone columns. The light given off by the enormous manalight was particularly unnerving, given the sharp and surprisingly deep shadows it cast across their path. Teak was almost overwhelmed, eyes jumping around as he attempted to watch every shadow simultaneously.

They were so busy watching the rocks and shadows that when the trap came, they didn't notice until they were in its jaws.

With an earth-shaking rumble that caused no small amount of stumbling, eight Monsters emerged from beneath the sand. A shield-and-sword variant stood in the path before them, with three boxer types on either side of the group, equidistant to cover both sides and behind them.

And the party was trapped in the middle.

Felin wasted no time. Almost the second after the crabs emerged, he was on them. His longsword sliced down onto the unfortunate crab in his way. With reflexes almost as fast, the monster raised its two bulging claws and intercepted the sword, catching it on spurs of hardened shell. The man disengaged just in time to dodge a swing from a second crab. Swinging the blade back around, he sliced through the unprotected joint of the overextended pincer, severing it completely.

Behind him, he heard the 'twang' of Teak's crossbow, followed by a wave of heat and the slightly unhinged laughter of their party's pyromaniac.

The one-pincered crab retreated behind its fellows. The remaining two boxer-types spread out, boxing him in and separating him from the rest of the party. The final crab, the sword-and-shield variant, stepped forwards to face him, front and center. There was a moment of stillness between them. Felim almost got the sense that this was a duel. In the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of orange. He deflected the boxer's wild jab with a heavy swing, then twisted to deflect the second boxer's opportunistic attack.

Right. They're only monsters, he thought. They've no honor at all. The next minute was a blur of steel and shell, pincer and sword clashing and pushing. Completely focused on the dangerous dance, he didn't notice when Layla came under attack.

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The Dungeon, Unnamed Island, Kalenic Sea

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Okay, let's see. Knight's occupied by those three to the left, Pyro and Rogue occupied by the group of Crabs in the back right... This was my opportunity.

I watched as no less than five Assassin Crabs crept slowly up and over the stone barriers keeping the party hemmed in. Neo hadn't noticed them, likely thinking the crabs that had already ambushed them were the entirety of the trap. She'd been keeping a blind eye on both fights, looking ready to step in if the others faltered. She'd seemed worried for a second when another squad came forward to reinforce the beleaguered crabs, attacking the Rogue and Pyro, but ultimately left them to it.

Pyro was a strange one, that's to be sure. The first sign that she was casting magic was her mana suddenly bursting from the pores of her palms in directed streams, somehow being converted into heat and light an inch from her vulnerable skin. I watched closely, imagining that I was squinting down at her. I noticed the many rings she was wearing. Six were dim, the mana within laying dormant. One on each hand, however, burned bright. She also seemed to be directing the streams of fire with the finger the rings were worn on.

Hypothesis: Humans need tools to convert their normal mana into elemental mana.

Then the woman breathed fire directly from her mouth when a Brawler got too close. I discarded my first theory.

New Hypothesis: Humans can turn mana directly into elemental mana but need tools to direct it beyond basic attacks.

Rogue was certainly holding his own as well. The man could reload his crossbow with supernatural quickness, keeping the crabs at bay with sharp stabs of his dagger when needed. Thankfully the thickened shell I gave the Brawlers and Knights was enough to prevent the crossbow bolts from fully penetrating, unlike the Assassins. Though, it did mean some looked like large pin cushions.

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With Knight, Pyro, and Rogue distracted, I ordered my semiaquatic assassins to strike.

With strengthened muscles, two of the crabs leaped into the air. The sudden movement alerted Neo to the danger, and she twisted in place. She brought her arms up, and mana surged from her core down them and out the back of her forearms. Once extruded, the mana formed into blades, running down the length of her arms and two feet beyond her hands. Unable to dodge in mid-air, the crabs fell to their doom. The final three Assassins jumped bare seconds after the first two.

As the manablades cut the first wave in twain with barely any resistance, the second wave was upon her. With a cry of exertion, two more Assassins joined their four dead brethren in Crabhalla. The final crab got through, landing its attack. Neo let out a pained shout.

The crab brought its pincer, shaped for piercing strikes, and slammed it directly into the chest of the surprised woman. Though the swipe of a humming manablade soon ended its life, the dead monster's pincer remained lodged in the... right side of the woman's chest.

Damn it. I had hoped for a killing blow. If the humans had more potions, which was almost guaranteed, they could heal a pierced lung quickly. Then again, it depended on how fast they could get her one.

Hearing their... leader? Party member? Hearing Neo cry out in pain, the rest of the party redoubled their attacks. With speed and precision, Rogue shot the half-dozen crabs remaining through their eyeholes and into their soft insides. That weakness needed to be addressed, though I didn't see how...

Pyro immediately disengaged, rushing to Neo's side with a potion and leaving her monsters to Rogue. She passed the injured woman a red potion, one shot through with silvery streaks, with a whispered comment. "Alright, ready? One. Two. Three!" She pulled out the pincer with a yank, synchronized to Neo tensing and downing the potion.

Knight went beserk and dispatched his opponents in seconds. With no more opponents presenting themselves, he stood guard over his wounded party member with searching eyes. Ah. Now I understand. They'd been toying with the crabs, attempting to gain a better estimate of their abilities. Their strengths and weaknesses. Just as I had been doing the same to them.

I probably couldn't expect them to downplay their abilities from then on.

I pulled a few dozen more crabs out of my reserves, deciding they were due for a horde-mode attack. Hmm. I could also increase Sebastian's size. Suddenly, the size of a mere pony didn't seem big enough. Two horses side-by-side seemed more appropriate for their skill level.

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The "Lost" Dungeon, Unnamed Island, Kalenic Sea

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"That was close," Herna commented, pulling back from her inspection of Layla's wound. "If it had hit the same spot but on the other side of your ribs, that pincer would have gone straight through your heart." Felin shifted, his hands clenched tighter around the hilt of his sword.

He felt like shit. He was too busy playing with his food to keep an eye out for his oldest friend. Layla waved the mage off, sitting up. With speed visible to the naked eye, the skin around the wound shifted and moved, closing with a quickness expected from the quality of potion they'd used. She shivered, and Felin grimaced. Higher-tier potions might heal you faster, but it felt damn weird when you could feel the mana shifting and knitting your flesh back together.

Layla took a deep breath, one free and easy, then turned to her team. "Alright. Assessments?"

"Early Elder," Teak began, "The monsters cover each other's weaknesses well, are intelligent, and capable of advanced tactics. However, I don't know how much the dungeon controlled them compared to their capabilities." Herna frowned.

"I'd say, Late Mature. I didn't observe any magical effects in the monsters. Still, the minimalized weaknesses and the way the different types took different roles in the fight pointed to an experienced Core." She rattled off, then frowned. "They were very wary of my fire. Either they knew its effects and kept back, or they didn't know what to do about it."

"The Bigger ones have a thicker shell," Teak added when Herna stopped. "My bolts became lodged in their shells easily but never fully penetrated. The eyes are obvious weak spots, as with most monsters."

"Their joints are unarmored, but they defend them well," Felin said, his voice rough and weary. "Inexperienced against Guilders, despite mimicking their weaponry. Middle Mature." The quiet man fell back into silence; his piece said. Layla nodded at them all.

"Late Mature, then," Layla said. "Though I expect we won't face the same situation again, we should watch for layered strategies. Traps within traps, or divide and conquer tactics as well. They may be inexperienced, but these monsters can still injure and kill the unwary." She finished sardonically.

Reminded that they were delving into a Lost dungeon, not a Baby, the party continued with renewed caution.

They ran into several more groups of crabs (always three with bulging pincers and one swordsman) but mowed through them without trouble. Only as they reached the fourth cavern did they run into the dungeon's real resistance. A mix of the previous caverns, it had more space to maneuver, but much of the cavern remained obstructed or draped in shadows cast by stone columns.

Initially, all was quiet. The party was on guard, watching carefully. Ahead, Felin spied a doorway carved into the rock. The frame was square, decoratively carved with symbols, and blocked by slabs of stone with handles that could barely be called doors. That was obviously the way forward. One problem, though. There was a big clearing of open space between them and the doors.

And that space was filled entirely with Crabs.

The monsters didn't give them time to organize or plan. The moment they paused in surprise, the crabs charged. Like an orange tide, they advanced. When the first line fell to sword, bolts, and magic, the second rolled over their fallen allies without hesitation.

The next twenty minutes were filled with frantic combat where they saved each other from more death blows than they could count. Strikes that would have severed limbs become shallow cuts. Disabling blows turned to deep bruises.

In the end, they survived. The piles of dead monsters towered above them while the humans panted in exertion. Blood soaked their armor and robes, hair matted with sweat and viscera.

"Haa... Rest up... while you can..." Layla panted, mana reserves likely dangerously low. "Haa... That was probably... all the monsters... left on this floor... probably...." Teak collapsed to the blood-soaked sand, followed shortly by Herna and Layla. Felin plunged his sword into the sand and leaned on it, remaining on guard. Now would be the best time to ambush them; while they're tired and resting.

Potions were consumed, and wounds healed. Teak took the time to restock his significantly depleted quiver by pulling used bolts from the corpses around them.

They weren't sure how long it took, but they all gathered before the elaborately carved doors. Herna ran her hand down the stylized carving of a crab equipped with sword and shield pincers. "The Floor Guardian is probably one of these," she said, stepping back. Felin and Teak moved in to push open the doors. They grunted with exertion, but slowly the slabs moved.

With a grinding noise, the stone was pushed aside, revealing a circular arena. The ground was the same black sand as the rest of this floor. The walls, however, were carved just as intricately as the doors they'd just opened. Around the area's edges were dozen rocks of various sizes, all shaped like camouflaged crabs. They began crossing the room, heading to the door opposite, when the largest of the stones stood, revealing a crab of immense size. It stood ten feet tall and, with its legs spread, was thirty feet wide. The body alone was ten feet wide, with its pincers shaped into a shield five feet across and a sword six feet long.

Their party stood four strong, with no major wounds. Mana levels were replenished, though potions could never bring a mage's reserves to full. Teak had a few dozen arrows, a far cry from the hundreds he boasted fit in his enchanted quiver. They only had a few healing potions between them, not having expected resistance this stiff.

"Fuck. This is gonna hurt." Felin cursed, rolling his shoulders. Raising his sword, he charged in, roaring the wordless war cry of the men knowing they might die on the battlefield.

And the battle began.

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© Max Porteous, 2021