“Trail of what?” Florence asked.
“Something human. Get ready.”
Alan sincerely hoped it was Davis and the elves for some change of pace. They could use another fighter if he was alive, and he wanted to grab a glimpse of the elves. Sure, they didn’t sound like those from the stories he had grown up… did that make them something different? Florence had called them elves, but that did not mean they were elves. Maybe particularly handsome orcs posing as elves?
Alan fully trusted Ashlyn’s tracking skill as she led them down a complicated system of tunnels, corridors, rooms, and passages that had long stopped making any sense. The occasional blood imp group would stand in their way, but it was already no trouble to the group. Alan noticed more and more how the creatures followed specific patterns of action and attack, seemingly unable to adapt to the situation, and that made them only easier to kill.
No levels came, but he didn’t expect any.
It took them another indeterminate amount of time until they reached a wide hall akin to a cave where they found a scene of carnage. There were a few dead gatherers filled with arrows and one even had a caved-in chest. How they had come underground was a mystery.
A whole horde of blood imps was lying dead on the floor, with some ember imps mixed in.
In the middle of the various corpses were two very eye-catching figures. One was a gray-skinned man lying on his back. His long ears and gray hair were particularly eye-catching. An elf. Both his arms were missing seemingly ripped straight from the shoulder sockets, and there was a gaping hole in his sternum, among many other wounds.
The other figure… It was another horrible sight - a skinned body with minimal amounts of blood, that was all veins and muscle tissue. It was dead, with a crushed skull and multiple open wounds from slashes and stabs. A few arrows were stuck in each eye, and some in various parts of the body.
“Is that what a blood corpse is?” Alan wondered out loud. The constructs had wanted him to become like this. He missed the monocle.
“Looks like our friends had a run-in and even left one of theirs behind,” Ashlyn noted.
Alan got closer to the corpse of the elf, stepping carefully to not trip on the viscera and liquid all over the floor. His features were sharper than a human’s. The man’s mouth was open, frozen as he took his last dying breath revealing sharp teeth.
“This is no elf,” Alan said.
Florence frowned next to him, “It has pointy ears!”
“Pointy ears don’t make the elf!” Alan argued.
“Not to ruin your lover’s quarrel, but can we do that somewhere else and not among blood, guts, and God knows what else,” Ashlyn said. There were a few bloody arrows in her hand – extras she had quickly gathered.
Alan felt some heat on his face, and Florence looked equally bashful. Damn it, Ash. Am I that obvious?
“The arrows are the same as the ones I bought from the Sanctuary shop, so it’s safe to say those guys also have a Sanctuary and they are in a similar situation as ours.”
“That makes them that much more dangerous,” Alan said, grateful for the new topic. He had shared some vague things about the Bazaar with Ashlyn, but he was still worried about talking in detail about the experience and all that had happened. Something was going on with all the names and places and powerful beings.
Was he still distrustful of Florence? Maybe. He fancied her, but couldn’t trust her. No, it was not about trust, it was about fear of her abilities. He was fearful of his future abilities too. The unknown was as exciting as it was frightful and while he couldn’t wait to grow stronger and see more wondrous sights, he was also filled with trepidation about the change that would come with the process.
“Yep. Unknown classes and abilities and probably a numerical advantage. Any idea how many they were, Florence?”
The girl in question thought for a second, “I saw no more than five, but there could have been more I didn’t see.”
This would be tricky. Alan was confident in his [Synaptic Failure] and Ashlyn, and Florence was a terrifying opponent against anyone who couldn't react fast enough or realize what was happening, but they also didn’t know the ‘elves’ abilities apart from being good fighters and archers.
“The trail continues down this path,” Ashlyn said and the three followed with no hesitation, passing by a second skinned corpse.
Alan tried talking to Xil’Garoth again, to no success. He was worried but was sure the demon would be fine.
Once again, they walked down the seemingly endless rooms and paths of the dungeon’s underground, going further down. Alan’s desire to see the fields of flowers up close would have to wait.
There passed a few decimated groups of imps. Some were killed with arrows, others cleaved down, and there were even signs of punching which made the group pause.
“Florence,” Ashlyn began, “what’s the chance Davis is working with them?”
“That… would be worrying, especially because they had him poked full of arrows last I saw him.”
“There is always the possibility of someone capable of control like yours, or even stronger, among them,” Alan said.
“Or that Davis is angry enough at you that he had decided to join them,” Ashlyn added, bringing uncomfortable silence about.
“He… he wouldn’t,” Florence whispered after some time, sounding unconvinced at her own words. She looked so vulnerable for a second, that Alan found himself wanting to help in some way, but he found no words. The feeling was gone as fast as it had appeared, leaving him perplexed.
They came around a corner and Ashlyn stopped them.
“They are close.”
With renewed caution, the three followed the path until it led them to a stone terrace overlooking a large underground square bathed in light coming from a huge crystal on the top of the stone roof.
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
The three of them were careful to remain unseen, and Florence even activated her ring making Alan turn from time to time to make sure she was still there. She wasn’t fully invisible, but her presence, her breath, and the sounds she made as she moved, all were gone.
He still liked his boots better.
The sounds of battle reached them before they saw the action. Two of the supposed blood corpses were fighting with four elves and… Davis. The corpses were moving fast, dodging arrows and one of them sent a punch toward Davis sending the man flying a few meters. He had barely managed to block at the last moment with both arms, encased in steel gloves.
The elves were fast. Two of them were wielding bows with skill not lesser than Ashlyn’s, while the third was fighting in melee with the second blood corpse.
The fourth and last of them was a woman in different clothes than the rest of the elves who all wore well-made leather armor similar to the one their fallen comrades had on. She stood at the back, casting what appeared to be barriers of green light, and something else very similar to healing. Alan couldn’t see very well, but once the green light covered one of the elven warriors, the man began moving better.
“Davis is fighting alongside them,” Ashlyn stated and threw a look toward Florence.
“I—I…”
“The question is, should we help them, wait it out… or kill everyone but Davis?” Alan asked. The last option was just thrown there, and he didn’t believe it was smart unless Davis was brainwashed. Alan didn’t believe that to be the case, although everything was possible.
The fight was getting more and more violent, as one of the elves suffered a slashing attack that tore his armor and left a nasty gash on his chest. There was a flash of green light soon after, and the wounds seemed to stop bleeding.
“She healed him,” Ashlyn said. Her eyes were the best of the group, so if she said it was what happened then she was certain about it.
“Well,” Alan hesitated for just a moment and threw a look at Florence. The girl looked confused, maybe even a bit scared. “Let’s try to help them, without exposing too much. Maybe use your ring to stay undetected and help me and Ashlyn from the side, Flo? Don’t expose yourself. If the elves attack us after we deal with the corpses, go crazy.”
Florence exhaled and nodded.
Ashlyn’s gaze lingered a bit too long on the now hazy figure of Florence, before nodding too and unshouldering her longbow.
“I will go down, you cover me, Ash. Don’t show your melee prowess yet. Best to hide as much as possible.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. It’s time I test my new skill,” Alan grinned. He was excited. If the skill promised speed, then he’d better get speed.
He dropped down carefully. The terrace wasn’t that high and his new attributes were perfectly capable of assisting him.
Drawing his two daggers, the [Imbue Flame] one and the regular steel one, Alan joggled slowly toward the fight, careful to not startle anyone.
The elves noticed him first and alerted Davis who said something to them. One of the archers hesitated but resumed focusing on the skinless enemies.
Alan grinned and ran toward the nearest corpse and elf, who were locked in a fight. It was more of a dodge session as the elf was struggling to run around, while the corpse attacked recklessly with speed and power that was slightly higher than even what he had seen from Ashlyn.
With a thought his only (Epic) grade skill activated. He felt a part of his mana disappear and his mana pool shrink as a portion of it became locked. It was uncomfortable, but he assumed it would expand again once he released the skill.
Alan looked down and saw his shadow disappear into threads that wrapped around him, sinking through skin and clothes. His skin became paler and… stranger. Whisps of shadows rose briefly from him, before dissipating.
There was no fearsome armor suddenly materializing on his body, instead, even his clothes became less colorful as if bathed in shadows. Alan felt like a black-and-white comic book character walking through the world.
And it felt great, if a tad weird. Something inside of him told him that this skill was meant for direct combat, but that’s all he could use for now. Alan wasn’t fond of the mid-range, mostly melee caster he was turning into, but it was the practical choice, for now.
He certainly needed a longer weapon. While [Shadow Weapon] made his daggers much longer, he missed the safety.
He took a step and felt like he was flying. It took him seconds to reach the fight and he almost bumped into the corpse, before realizing how fast he was going.
With a thought his daggers were covered in shadows, becoming longer and deadlier, and he swung at the monster, trying to control his action. The skinless monster reacted very fast, but it didn’t matter as the blade sank in its arm. Alan felt resistance, but the blade sank a few centimeters and he quickly pulled back and assessed the damage he had done, dodging a swipe that he hadn’t even seen coming with room to spare.
His new skill was amazing.
He felt excitement as he attacked again, giving the tired elf some room to breathe and recover. Alan didn’t even bother sending [Shadow Slashes], opting to just attack with abandon. The corpse could barely hold its own as it used its forearms to defend itself, but they were quickly becoming minced meat revealing the bone beneath.
Alan suddenly had an idea and used [Warlock’s Body Mastery] to boost his legs a bit further. The world spun as he overshot and ended up a large distance away from the fight, leaving the corpse and the few observers he had confused. There was a trail of quickly dissipating whips of darkness behind him.
He laughed and rushed back in. He would need more practice, but he was happy enough with his (Epic) skill’s performance. Who needed high Dexterity?
His barrage of attack continued until the corpse screamed and lunged toward him, abandoning its defense. It was easy enough to dodge the attack.
With a large chunk of his mana pool locked, Alan decided to save [Synaptic Failure] for the elves, if it came to a fight. [Monochrome Armor] was enough to deal with the corpse. To think that he wouldn’t be able to even get close to such a foe mere hours before… the System was really busted.
The elven warrior seemed to have gathered some energy, as he rushed back in and forced the corpse to defend from his large sword as well, letting Alan go crazy with his shadow daggers. He tried aiming for the neck and managed to make a few shallow cuts.
Alan made a large stabbing swing that seemingly took him off balance, and spun on his heel coming behind the corpse that couldn’t react in time. He boosted his enchanted hand with [Warlock’s Body Mastery] and felt the strength almost double.
His shadow dagger met the creature’s skull and sank to the hilt. Alan abandoned it and moved back. The corpse struggled to swing, its movement disjointed and strange, until it fell and didn’t move again.
You have slain: Skinned Corpse Servant (42)
Not a blood corpse then.
Level up!
You have reached level 11 in [Warlock]!
+ 3 Attribute Points
+ 1 Mind, Will, and Magic
Hell yeah.
Alan was ecstatic. His heart beat fast in his chest as he turned and gave the wide-eyed elf a manic smile.
“Let’s help our friend,” he said and retrieved his dagger from the skull, before rushing toward where the other corpse was fighting Davis. It had become a one-sided fight as the two elven archers and Ashlyn were sending a barrage of arrows toward the thing, keeping it on the defensive, while Davis pummeled it.
The elven healer stood back, observing.
Still, Alan wanted the experience. In a few seconds, he was behind it swung with his dagger, before a stray arrow almost took him in the shoulder. Shadows coalesced mere millimeters from his clothes and the arrow burst apart upon contact, but the force behind it still sent him reeling back a few steps.
One of the elven archers looked sheepishly at him. It was Alan’s mistake to go in so fast, probably, but he would still make the elf feel bad if needed.
Alan could feel the hole in his invisible armor, and how much mana it would take to fix it, but he opted to not spend it now.
In the few seconds it took him to gather himself, an arrow penetrated the corpse’s eye and a glowing punch from Davis caved its head in, ending it.
Damn… my levels.
With the fight over, Alan put away his daggers but didn’t dismiss his armor.
He stared at the elves, and they stared back at him.