The wings of Conrad’s mount flapped hard as it neared the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust and sending what few animals dared come near the small clearing scurrying away. He hopped off the side of the beast and landed on his feet, patting its scales as he scanned his surroundings. His lips formed a thin line when he turned his attention to the cave ahead of him and the small cadre of wightlings that stood in front of it, bouncing up and down and waving their arms frantically at him. He stalked towards them, swinging his mace up before resting it on his shoulder. “In there?” he asked gruffly.
“SREEEET! SRKRRRAGGHTTAAATTATATA!” They shrieked in unison, bobbing their heads with emphatic confirmation.
His lips curled into a smile and he let the mace fall, resting the heavy head between his feet as he considered his options. Knowing her majesty, she would call foul if he marched in there himself. Given her goals, hunting her with impunity would be a good way to get himself in trouble and derail her plans. Even so, she expected him to demonstrate thoroughness in his approach. I still don’t quite understand why we need to help her train these heroes, but I suppose it isn’t my concern, he thought before holding out a hand and drawing in power. It flooded his veins before racing up to his outstretched palm, seeping out of his pores in the form of an inky black fluid. The fluid pooled in his palm first before sloshing down onto the ground in thick gobbets.
“It’s interesting,” he said with some amusement, “My abilities are beginning to reflect her majesty’s disposition. I wonder why that is.”
He took a step back and allowed the foul smelling mass to pool on the grass beneath his feet. The green blades withered and died, sinking into the ooze until it seemed like a perfectly circular portal to a vile realm lay there on the ground. He turned his hand over and held out his palm, “Rise, Frighthunter,” he intoned and felt power leave his body. A moment passed in silence, the air going still before a single bubble expanded on the surface of the puddle. Soon another joined it, and then another. Before long the puddle of black ichor was boiling, its surface rippling and splashing as a sense of awareness rose up and touched his mind.
That was when a long thin arm erupted from the pool. It had thick cords of muscle wrapped around narrow bones and from the looks of it was nearly five feet in length. The arm bent at a sharp angle, clawed hands slapping against the ground and causing the grass to hiss and burn. Another arm rose up and did the same before it started to pull itself from its birthplace. What stood before him would have given him nightmares, even in his past life as a warrior of Katal. It stood almost ten feet tall, its malformed body hunched over with thick spines of bone rising out of its thick torso where its arms and equally long legs jutted out. It bent its knees, crouching down to reach eye level with its creator.
Six yellow-red eyes stared back at him with barely restrained bloodust from behind a horrifically modified horse skull. It tilted its head in a jerky fashion before hissing out a ragged breath.
“I hunt?” It wheezed, its voice sounding like dozens of small voices rising up from a dark hole. Each word enunciated seemed to echo, the words repeating in the air for a heartbeat before fading.
He pointed at the opening to the cavern, “Your prey is inside,” he said, “Find it and bring it here.”
“No eat?” It asked, sounding disappointed. He frowned at the insubordinate creature and took a step forward, looking it in the eyes. He brought his presence down on it with a wave of horrors, his nostrils flaring with barely restrained contempt. Its own eyes widened in response and it slammed into the ground, bashing its own head against the grass at Conrad’s feet in supplication. “Forgive! Forgive! I hunt! I hunt! I find!” It shrieked,
He released his hold on the creature and tilted his head, “Accomplish this task and you will be allowed to hunt here in the forest as you see fit, fail, and you will have died anyway,” he said coldly before jerking his chin towards the cavern, “Go.”
“Yes!” It shrieked and turned away, running on all fours, its long limbs bent upward in an unsettling way as it scuttled towards the dark interior and disappeared. He clicked his tongue and turned back to his mount, looking it in the eyes, “Good help is so hard to find, wouldn’t you say?” He asked.
The corrupted beast inclined its head before jerking its head to the left and bearing its teeth. He looked in that direction and narrowed his eyes. “It would seem that there are more than just her Majesty’s group wandering about the forest,” he said and with a quick movement returned to his spot on the creature’s back. “Let’s go say hello to the Katali,” he said, his blood boiling in his veins. He pulled a blue crystal out of a pouch on his hip and spoke into it, “Incoming warband. Prepare for a skirmish.”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
–
Ianna and the group stood in front of the sarcophagus, all with perplexed expressions on their faces. She crossed her arms and tilted her head, looking down into the object and frowning a little while Azrael glanced her way with a raised eyebrow. “So…” Azrael started and Ianna raised her hand to forestall any commentary.
“Shush, I’m thinking,” Ianna said.
“I thought you said it was something better,” Miranda said.
“You felt that surge of magic as much as I did, it felt like a treasure,” Ianna said frankly before looking down at the sarcophagus, “I suppose technically I’m right but…”
A few steps away, Mack crouched down and looked under the narrow pedestal that the sarcophagus sat on. He waved his hands beneath it before standing up and scratching his head. “I don’t want to bring up laws of physics in a place like this but,” he hesitated, “Your maj- Ianna,” he corrected himself, “This doesn’t seem to be entirely uh… possible.”
Ianna pursed her lips and looked down deeper into the sarcophagus. There, in place of the cold surface of the underside that she had endured when she first arrived in this world, there was a hole with a set of stone stairs leading down into a black abyss. She popped her neck and rubbed it a little before turning to the others. “Any volunteers?” she asked hesitantly.
“You want to go down there?” Mack asked, incredulous, “We don’t have any idea what’s down there, it could be nothing at all, a trap set to lead us to our dooms.”
“I doubt that,” Azrael said albeit a little unconvincingly.
“Then you go down there,” Miranda quipped, earning her a flat stare from Azrael. She shrugged and held up her hands, “I’m just saying, if anyone is good at being a scout, it’s you, Az.”
Ianna considered just hopping in and descending the stairs. She’d done riskier things before. That being said, she really had no interest in dying and losing the precious experience she’d gathered thusfar. Given the level of enemies she’d been fighting in recent days and the scarcity of enemies at her level during her time consolidating Osan, any progress towards her next level was something to be protected. She let out a sigh, On the other hand, there could be something useful down there. Maybe even some treasure that the old bitch left behind. That’d be nice. A proper inheritance.
It was as she was having that amused thought that a terrible sound filled the chamber. It sounded like laughter but the echo was… wrong. It all came from the same place rather than multiple directions. The others reacted at the same time as she did, turning towards the sealed door leading into and out of the tomb. Azrael drew a knife when the laughter came again, it was sinister, manic, and most assuredly some kind of wightling. The large, circular door shifted a little and long, claw-like fingers poked through the seam, searching for purchase so that whatever was on the other side could push it open and get to the tasty treats inside-them.
“I know that sound,” Azrael said grimly.
“Care to enlighten?” Miranda asked.
“Wightling Frighthunter,” Azrael said, “A step above Madcallers. They’re one of Conrad’s favorites.”
“So not a fight we can handle right now, I take it?” Ianna asked.
“Not unless we shut off our suppression but that would broadcast to literally anyone within a significant distance that we’re out here snooping around,” Azrael said, shaking her head. “I’d say we should run, but that door it’s standing at is the only exit.”
“Besides down there,” Delilah said, “If we can’t fight it, we can at least take the plunge.”
“I still don’t think-” Azrael started only to gasp as Mack grabbed the side of the sarcophagus and with a quick pull, hopped on top of it. She was about to reprimand him when he turned to them and gave a playful salute, shrugging his shoulders at her before hopping down onto the first step and vanishing into the darkness at a run.
“Well that settles that,” Miranda said quickly and hopped over the side as well, darting down the steps as the massive door shifted and groaned under the strain of the insane creature’s strength. Delilah went next, leaving Azrael and Ianna alone.
“You first,” Ianna chuckled.
“I’m not leaving you out here alone,” Azrael said, her expression deadpan, “And I’m not bending on that.”
Ianna frowned at her but nodded, “Fine,” she said just as the door finally rolled open with a crash and a crunch of time-worn metal against stone. Whatever made the door work was damaged beyond repair by the creature’s aggressive action.
[Wightling Frighthunter] - Hostile - Level 10
HP: 100% MP: 100% SP: 100%
“Yep, time to go!” She said quickly and hopped onto the side of the sarcophagus, turning to dive inside with Azrael close behind.
Now entering Natural Dungeon: [The Astral Garden]
Please be advised, while this is an open dungeon, you may not leave its space until all dungeon challenges are complete.