YOU FEEL DEVASTATING HUNGER!
“I know! I know!” the dungeon hissed.
Normally, he’d slam half the shutters in town to vent some anger, but with all the cursed letters, griffins, and royal slimes roaming about, he couldn’t even do that. In moments such as these, Theo was glad that no one was left to see what Rosewind had become. The idea of letting the slimes loose on the surface sounded, in theory, like the perfect solution. Slimes dissolved pretty much anything but stone. As part of the dungeon, they were also immune to the curse and didn’t risk getting sent to the abomination’s estate. Unfortunately, providing the creatures with an endless supply of food came with its own problems.
The first ten minutes everything seemed fine. Theo’s slimes gobbled up the deluge of letters on streets and rooftops, as well as all the fragments shredded by the griffins above. The abundance of food quickly made them grow, which they did at an alarming rate. Soon enough, they filled many of the streets like jelly.
Some of the more energetic slimes engaged in fights with one another, but even that soon ended as they reached a state at which there was no point in moving at all. Zombie letters continued to appear, providing them nourishment, and nearly nothing in their surroundings was remotely threatening.
If he could, Theo would have sent out Cmyk to deal with the matter, but the minion had accompanied Switches on a “quick test run” of the latest equipment. The way things were going, the gnome wouldn’t be done until half the world had been corrupted by Agonia.
A spike of blood rose up from the blood-covered floor in the abomination’s throne room. Shattering the ice that surrounded Baron d’Argent, the spike pierced right through him. The pain was significant, sweeping through dungeon and avatar alike as another burst of buildings filled a few fields beyond Rosewind’s walls.
Gripping the spike, the avatar cast a blessing to sever the connection between it and the abomination. The energy required to maintain his vastly increased main body had depleted a large part of his reserves, forcing him to be a lot more economical with his spells. Thus, Theo was left with the tried, but unpleasant, method of converting part of himself to pure mana. Yet, as he tried to destroy some of the newly formed districts, something unusual happened.
YOU ARE INCAPABLE OF ENERGY CONVERSION!
ENERGY CAN ONLY BE OBTAINED THROUGH CORE POINTS.
It had been a long while since the dungeon had to resort to such a desperate method. That was the whole reason he had built so many mana generators within himself.
“Damn it!” The dungeon converted some of his remaining core points.
A blessing materialized, burning through the blood spire like fire through wax.
“Tired?” The blood composing the abomination moved to the sides of the room.
Feeling he didn’t have the energy to maintain his flight spell, the baron dropped to the floor. For the first time since the avatar’s creation, he was breathing heavily, gasping for air.
“The offer still stands,” the abomination said.
“You haven’t won,” Theo bluffed. “My minions are already on their way. When they arrive, they will blot out the sun and purge this entire estate from existence!”
“And kill all those people?” A human face appeared in the whirlpool of blood.
“Better un-heroic than dead.”
Outside the sound of fighting was still going on—Theo’s only realistic hope. If she somehow managed to enter the chamber, they could win. If not… only Liandra would potentially claim the victory.
“You still refuse to admit defeat? You can’t use spells anymore, which makes weaker, slower, dumber. I can destroy you here and now if I want.”
“You can’t,” Theo said.
As he did, he suddenly came to an unexpected realization. Spok had been adamant when she said that abominations didn’t have neither morals nor scruples. The only rules they followed were the rules of their nature. If Agonia wanted, she could have destroyed his avatar without a moment’s hesitation. There’d be no offers of alliance, no discussions. Could this be a hint that had something to do with the entity’s true nature?
“So, what if you know?” All the blood in the room suddenly imploded, giving Agonia human form. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?”
“Wait, really?” the avatar asked, surprised that his suspicions were true.
“The necromancers figured it out ages ago!”
The way she said it, suggested that maybe they weren’t the happy evil family, as the monocle claimed. In a life-or-death situation such as this, the majority of people probably wouldn’t have noticed, but Theo had retained his sixth sense for finding drama. Back in his previous life, careers were made or lost on that skill alone.
“Sounds like you’re not the happy evil family the marquis made you out to be,” Theo pressed on.
“Family?” The abomination tilted her head in confusion. “We aren’t a family. They’re simply part of my collection.”
“Hold on. You have a…” his words trailed off. A thought had come to him, so horrible that he desperately hoped it wouldn’t be true. “Abomination of fulfillment,” he repeated. “Please, tell me your nature isn’t obsessive collecting.” Please, universe, anything but that!
“I prefer the term fulfillment.” Agonia raised her chin, confirming the dungeon’s fears.
“Damn it all!” Of all the possible abominations, couldn’t you have sent me a normal one?!
Theo could safely say that he was less inclined to collect than most, and still even he wasn’t completely immune. All of his notable achievements were framed and placed on the walls of his main body: his mage certificate, his land permit, his family tree, even the fake titles that Earl Rosewind had bestowed upon him were all there.
“Why so upset?” the abomination asked. “You’ll be able to achieve what you’ve always wanted.”
“I’ll spend the rest of my life obsessively collecting things like a maniac!”
Already he was short on core points and he hadn’t even grown half as much as he wanted to. To make matters worse, he had only been constructing basic buildings. The moment his self-control was removed, Theo would fill Rosewind with large and exotic structures—above and below ground—each with ludicrously high upkeeps. Even now, he felt a faint desire to conquer a kingdom or two so he could afford to create a dragon’s nest—the rarest of the chambers he was capable of building.
The cursed marquis and his wife were clear examples of what the end result would be like. One was obsessed with collecting weapons and skeletal minions, by the looks of things, and the other kidnapped people for her living-doll collection. If a dungeon was added to the mix, the world might very well be doomed. Although, one had to admit that he’d be able to create the greatest city in all existence.
“No!” The baron shook his head. “You won’t have me!” He stood up, looking the abomination right in the eye.
“You can’t escape my collection.” Agonia took a few steps forward. “Or do you think you could call someone to save you? The desire is already running through you. Even if you send a thousand letters telling people of my nature, that will just help me. What do you think the necromancers originally did?”
“The cursed letters weren’t cursed?”
“Not at first. It was just a call for help from a woman concerned about the obsessive behavior of her husband. Most of the puppets in the ballroom were here to help her, just as you were. It was only later that she modified the next batch of letters to be so persuasive and efficient.”
Shivers ran through the dungeon’s main body, causing the entire town to tremble. Spok had been right, although Theo would never publicly admit to it. Abominations weren’t dangerous because they were evil, but because they turned everything on its head. Unlike demons or those affected by them—like Lord Mandrake—they never wanted to conquer the world, but be true to their nature. Agonia, despite the unfortunate choice of name, merely wanted to collect. That was her nature and that was what she would be doing for the rest of time. She was a collector of collectors, keeping them safe, providing them with tools and powers, and telling them what they needed to hear so that her collection could grow.
The avatar let out a deep sigh. As much as it pained him, there was only one thing left to do.
YOU ARE INCAPABLE OF SEVERING THE LINK TO YOUR AVATAR!
DOING SO WILL DESTROY IT BEYOND REPAIR!
“Huh?” The baron blinked. “Why can’t I destroy my avatar?”
“Why would you want to destroy such a valuable piece of your collection?” the abomination asked.
The sound of fighting outside the chamber intensified, culminating in a loud slam in the bone wall. Agonia’s face casually disappeared, reappearing on the back of her head so she could get a better look.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “You won’t be alone. My children seem to be having problems containing your hero companion. Once you’re reborn, you’ll be the one to help me convince her.”
They way things were going, that might turn out to be the case. Apparently, the universe was going to have its way and have Theo and Liandra clash against one another, after all. The only faint glimmer of hope rested in the trio of adventurers, which had indirectly caused this whole mess. Given everything they had learned in the past few days, the dungeon could say with absolute certainty that he was utterly and completely doomed.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Meanwhile, Ulf, Avid, and Amelia were mentally preparing themselves for a daring charge into a room of cursed acquaintances. Not too long ago, their goal had been to desperately block the door in order to prevent people from pouring into the main chamber of the treasury. Now, they had to do the exact opposite.
“I don’t hear anything,” Amelia said, her ear against the door’s surface. “Maybe they aren’t there anymore?” She looked at Ulf and Avid, who were busy yet again moving gold bars from one spot to another.
“This is the only exit,” the large adventurer said, brushing the sweat off his forehead. “They can’t have gotten anywhere.”
“Magic made them get in there. Maybe magic for them out?” the woman suggested.
An audible moment of silence followed, after which everyone went back to what they were doing. As logical as the assumption was, they knew better than to rely on something so obvious. As the saying went: “hope for the best, prepare for the worst.”
Bit by bit the pile that had been blocking the door was reduced to a few dozen bars.
“Listen up,” Ulf said. “I’ll lead them out. You two wait for the moment, then rush inside and get the gem. Once you have it, we rush into the tunnels.
“Octavian could get it,” Avid suggested.
“That would be nice, right?” Ulf cracked a smile. “Just be ready in case he doesn’t.”
Avid nodded. Amelia, though, had an expression midway between curiosity and confusion.
“Why are you acting like bait?” She looked at Ulf. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“Better odds,” he replied without actually answering. “Besides, I’ve been chased before, so I’m used to it.”
The following silence indicated that everything that needed to be said had been said. The plan was simple and straightforward, fraught with danger. As one would say, it was the stuff adventures were made from. If they managed to survive this, the trio would have a story to share.
Ulf waited a few seconds for his companions to hide behind a few nearby stacks of gold, then grabbed the handle. This was one experience he didn’t look forward to.
The door opened with a swing. Initially, there was nothing out of the ordinary, just darkness, as one would expect for such a chamber. As light from the treasury bled through, shapes started to take form. Silhouettes, stoic and motionless as statues, became recognizable a few feet away from the door. The one in front seemed to raise a hand in the air, after which a giant orb of white light appeared right beneath the ceiling, lighting up the entire room.
Unused to the brightness, Ulf instinctively winced. His adventurer experience had taught him never to shut his eyes, even in such circumstances. In this particular case, he wished he had. The entire space was packed with people from Rosewind. There had to be well over a thousand, neatly arranged in rows one next to the other. All of them were still, only the movement of their eyes indicating they were alive. Standing in the front row, five steps from Ulf was none other than the baroness. Ever since he was a child, Ulf knew to fear and respect her, but all this time, he hadn’t suspected that she was capable of magic.
“Hello, Baroness,” he said, quickly regaining part of his composure. “Fancy meeting you here.”
The noblewoman didn’t move a muscle, standing motionless like everyone else.
“I’m here in the treasury, stealing everything in sight,” the adventurer added.
Still no reaction.
This was absurd. Minutes ago, the cursed mob were scrambling to capture them and do goodness knows what and now they were refusing to budge.
“Won’t any of you chase after me?” Ulf tried again. “No one?”
Never before had he encountered such levels of reluctance. There was only one thing left to do—something he would no doubt regret in the future.
“This better be worth it,” he said beneath his breath, then rushed forward.
Extending his right arm, he slapped five people in the front row with one single action. Knowing better than to wait for results, the man then leaped back, rushing out of the chamber as quickly as possible. That turned out to be the correct move.
The perceived attack had sprung the cursed into action, and not only the first row. The entire crowd reacted as a whole, rushing after him. Like a swarm of lemmings, they poured into the main chamber, knocking over any remaining stacks of gold along the way. None of the people were armed, but they didn’t have to be. None of the adventurers would raise a weapon against people they knew, even if those people were subject to the abomination’s curse.
“Get in there!” Ulf shouted, running into the armory.
On cue, the griffin swooped through the narrow doorway into the half full chamber. Unimpressive as ever, it still contained a few shelves for magic books, tomes, and other items. Uncertain what precisely he was searching for, Octavian circled along the walls, letting out a loud screech.
The noise didn’t even register for the cursed horde, which continued shoving towards the exit. Observed from the side, the coordination was outright impressive. There were no yells, fights, or blockages. The people went through the small exit like water, seemingly dozens at a time. In less than half a minute, the majority had filled the main treasure room, blindly continuing towards the armory. Not a single person paused to look around or remain guard.
As the flow decreased, Avid and Amelia gingerly sneaked under the cover of gold, slowly making their way to the door. Then, at the appropriate moment, both of them rushed in.
“You know what a mana gem is, right?” Avid whispered as he quietly closed the door. Even if there was no way of barricading it from the inside, he preferred that no one could see them ransacking yet another room.
“Large, expensive, and glowing,” Amelia whispered back.
Above her, the griffin screeched in confirmation.
“I’ll check the scrolls.” The duke’s daughter rushed towards the section in question. “You—”
Before she could finish, Amelia tripped into something, causing her to flop face down on the floor.
“What are you doing?!” Avid whisper-shouted as he rushed towards her.
Swallowing her pride, Amelia said nothing. She was fully aware that this was the last place she could afford to be clumsy, yet something in the manner in which she had fallen kept bothering her. Most people would instantly put the blame on themselves under the pretext of nerves, stress, or a mere lack of luck. Amelia, however, was a noble and nobles assigned blame to themselves only when all other options were eliminated.
At first glance, there didn’t seem to be any reason for her tripping. The central area of the vast chamber was completely empty, and the floor was as smooth as a mirror. The woman reached out, waving her hand an inch above the surface.
“Forget it!” Avid urged, rushing past her straight for the shelves. “We don’t have time for that.”
Ignoring him, Amelia stubbornly took a step forward, constantly checking the floor. Everything suggested that she had tripped on her own. Still, no noble of her family would admit defeat to reality without a fight, so she drew her weapon and used the accumulated charge to set a patch of floor on fire.
A large circular flame lit up, revealing absolutely nothing. As it did, a series of continuous crackles filled the air. Flickers formed, jumping from one to another in quick succession, light lightning in a storm. For several seconds, the intensity increased, until it all suddenly died out without warning.
“Did you see that?” Amelia whispered.
Standing still with a magic tome in his hands, Avid nodded.
“What do you think it is?”
Before he could answer, the room flashed, lighting up in a bright yellow light. The entire space in front of the walls had suddenly filled up with displays, statues, and vast selections of shelves, each more impressive than the last. There could no longer be any doubt that this was a magic storage vault.
“Invisibility spell?” Amelia asked, feeling vindicated. “Father uses it a lot to hide things he doesn’t want others to see. Most know about it, but pretend they don’t because he’s the head of the family.”
Dropping the book he was holding, Avid drew his sword.
“It’s not that shocking,” the woman frowned.
“If you find something so valuable that you have to cast an invisibility spell on it, would you leave it unguarded?” He struck the nearest statue.
Bolts of lightning surrounded the object, cutting through the item like steel. Hundreds of small cracks formed, quickly growing to the point that the entire statue crumbled to the ground.
Shocked by his easy success, Avid took a step back, glancing at the other statues in his vicinity. None of them displayed any signs of aggression, remaining in their frozen form like they had for centuries. At that point, the door to the room briskly opened.
“Wrong guards,” Avid grumbled beneath his breath. “Octavian, create a distraction!” he ordered. “Search through the new displays!” he shouted as he toppled the one near him, causing scrolls to spill all over the floor. “We just need to find it before them!”
At the same time, Spok and Earl Rosewind were facing a difficult situation of their own. Despite having made it safely to the council chamber, it didn’t seem that even its magic protections would keep them safe for long. The sound of rustling paper had steadily increased, and was no longer only coming from the doors and hidden entrances, but from the very walls and ceiling itself.
“Sir,” Spok said to her necklace. “Sir, this is no time to be acting irrationally,” she added in a level tone.
Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, it would be safe to assume that Theo had done something rash. He was catastrophe-prone for sure, and would more likely rewrite the laws of nature than suffer through even the simplest task. And yet, the spirit guide couldn’t shake the feeling that this time, the reason could be a lot more sinister than simply negligence on his part.
“Troubles?” the earl asked, sitting at his usual seat at the council table.
“Potentially,” Spok replied in her usual calm fashion.
“It appears there are dangers in this world that even my good friend can’t handle. A pity I don’t have any brandy here right now. We could have at least shared a nice glass while everything went down.”
“I’d like a grand wedding,” Spok said all of a sudden.
“A grand what, my dear?” For once, the earl was at a lack of words.
“If we survive through this, I’d like a grand wedding,” she repeated. “Since the odds of our safe rescue have largely diminished, I could at least dream big.”
“When everything else fails, aim for the heavens.” The earl smiled. “I like your style.”
“Would it be possible to make it a celebratory event?”
“In Rosewind? Naturally. I have organized festivals for far less. Of course, when I say festival, I mean it in the very conservative meaning of the world. Even with the baron’s funds, we don’t have the space for anything as grand as a riding contest or a jousting tournament.”
“That’s quite alright. I prefer to have everything in the town itself.”
“City,” the earl corrected, raising his right index finger in the air. “Rosewind will become a city.”
“A City? Can you arrange that?”
“Why not? If we survive this, it would mean that Theo had completed his third noble quest and defeated an abomination, both of which should be enough to have His Majesty make me a duke. And it would be utterly disgraceful if a duke holds a wedding in a mere town. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Quite.” Spok adjusted her glasses with a smile. “I’m sure the baron will do the necessary to build up the new city expansions.”
“Quite right. We must keep in mind that Rosewind will become an adventurer hub. Three adventurer’s quests completed in less than a year, not to mention we weathered both a goblin invasion and an abomination’s attack. I wouldn’t be surprised if the hero guild opened a branch here.”
The spirit guide froze. Even in dreams, there were some things that were best not mentioned.
“Maybe pass on the hero guild branch?” She looked at the earl. “The baron wouldn’t appreciate it too much. You know how mages could be sometimes.”
“Really? And I thought he and Liandra handled things so well together.” The man shrugged. “Still, if you don’t want a hero branch, there won’t be a hero branch. They’ll need my permission to open it, anyway. Unfortunately, I can’t say the same about the guests. I’m afraid that every noble in the kingdom will crawl out of the woodworks to attend the festivities.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’ll even convince the baron to arrange a visit from the goddess Peris for the occasion.”
“Now that would be the envy of the continent. I’ll have to be careful which clerics I invite. During my previous wedding, I had the misfortune of inviting everyone and the conversation quickly devolved into an argument about historical accuracy.” The man let out a bittersweet sigh. “We don’t have much of a chance, do we?” he asked.
“Not terribly, no,” Spok admitted.
If Theo was smart, he would leave his avatar behind, then convert most of his buildings and tunnels into energy with which to change location once more. The spirit guide would, no doubt, survive, yet the theoretical wedding wouldn’t.
Taking a seat beside the earl, Spok used some of her powers to create a decanter of expensive brandy and two glasses.
“With luck we might have enough time to discuss the menu and wedding arrangements,” she said.
“I see you’re quite the sly one, aren’t you Spok.” The earl waved a finger with a smile. “Bribing me with brandy right before such a vital discussion. Well—” he took the decanter and poured two glasses “—I accept your challenge.”