Chapter 16 – Sunlight

Even though he felt stressed at the thought of Death returning, Bel had still spent an entire day working out a group summoning group. His skill levels and advances had soared and he needed to learn the strength and weaknesses of himself and his minions.

He was stressed, always looking over his shoulder in a way, waiting for Death to return. Bel was starting to wonder if he already had without Bel noticing. Ever since he learned of the Gods and such beings, he had felt watched and observed.

Shaking off that feeling he focused on the army before him. He felt pride as he looked at them. The increase in his summoning pool, willpower, and overall skill levels made his summons formidable. They were all Bronze tiered. A fact he felt on his mind.

He was not Bronze himself yet and the minions weighed on his will, he was sure that once he reached Bronze the pressure would lessen, this made it so that he couldn’t summon as many minions, and their cost was greater due to the difference.

Still, before him stood six armor-clad skeletons wielding spears and shields of fine quality. Behind them, two zombie summoners stood. Bel initially thought that they would be his greatest assets so far, but it turns out that summoned creatures can’t summon creatures of their own. Which dropped their usefulness to a support role. They had one ability that redeemed them. A form of life transference that they used to heal other undead. This ability slowly drained them but they would be able to restore many of his minions before crumbling to dust themselves.

Behind his walking healers, two werewolves in full plate stood. These were his shock troops, capable of great feats of strength. Their main weakness was that they were slow and lacked weaponry, except for their teeth and claws. Bel tried arming them with different weapons but they were incapable of using them. Ignatius believed it was because these were created from dungeon mobs and not real werewolves. A real werewolf was a cursed sentient, often retaining a lot of its original knowledge. It depended on which curse of the lycanthrope they contracted, there were several different varieties according to Ignatius.

He had summoned two wraiths as well in case he needed to scout the area around the dungeon entrance. Neither Ignatius nor Solomon knew where the dungeon was located so neither could contribute to a plan of where they should go after they escaped.

His greatest success so far had been Solomon. The draugr was his permanent summons, as well as the flameskull, but he and Ignatius still fell under the rules of his skill levels. Which meant that the already strong undead grew stronger. Bel had also managed to summon a set of mail armor and a large mallet for Solomon to use. Ignatius informed that the gear was condensed ectoplasm which was imbued with mana. Meaning it would hurt just about everything but it, like all his minions, was weak against abilities that targeted mana or mana control.

“They look somewhat intimidating I must say.” Ignatius told Bel.

Bel couldn’t help but feel a small sense of pride, a smile touching his lips.

“I know. It’s too bad they can’t stay indefinitely, if we ever find civilization, I doubt people will let me just walk around without trouble.” Bel had read some of the notes and talked with Ignatius during the past day and he knew the fear that resided in the heart of the people of Eshander.

“Yes, but your skill has increased in many ways and summoning comes naturally to you. Many summoners work for years before being able to do what you do. I heard a story of an elf with a class from Morkon connected to summoning. He could only summon small gremlins for several years and people mocked him relentlessly, as he grew stronger, he came back to that village and summoned an army of beasts, many people died that day. He was of course hunted down and killed after, but the moral of the story is that summoners grow stronger over time.” Bel thought that the moral of that story was that people are assholes on both sides, killing an entire village out of spite. Bel spat to the side.

“The fact that you are a dual-class makes your growth potential even greater. Your class is one of the rarest there is, I suspect.”

“That reminded me of something. I got a new skill Power Attack that was changed to Death Strike, which makes sense to me. What doesn’t make sense is why I got a skill that sounds like it should be the first skill a warrior gets?” Bel asked Ignatius.

“I must admit that I am not sure, Master. All classes are unique, even those that share a class do not get the same skills or rewards for leveling. The System is not that well researched, the churches had declared that to be blasphemous since the Gods created the System so it is inviolable.” The Gods again, Bel thought. Or rather, the interpretation of the gods by mortals.

“We’ll do our research when we get out of here then. I doubt the churches will like me much anyway.” Bel smirked at the thought, but internally he was worried about the possibility of being hunted for the rest of his life.

Sighing he walked over to the area they had set aside for eating and sleeping. The two rooms they occupied made up the side area of the dungeon, the part that death had carved out for his trusted lieutenant Crow to live in while Bel fought in the dungeon. The core was still in its basin. Bel had examined the thing but hadn’t found any signs of it being trapped. The thing hadn’t spawned any more creatures or tried to kill Bel. Ignatius explained that it was because of the enchanted basin, whoever controlled it controlled the dungeon. He didn’t recognize its design, nor had he heard of such a thing before.

Bel sat down in the armchair and examined his status while eating some chicken and drinking some of the wine Crow had brought with him.

Name: Bel - Bringer of the Apocalypse

Class: Necro-lord (Path of the Summoning Warrior – Death Specialization)

Tempering: Tin (Bones)

Level: 21

Unassigned points: 3

Wealth: 317 Copper Coins, 156 Silver Coins 7 Gold Coins

Rations: 257 Packs (Good), 8 Liter of Wine

Items: Boots of the Necro-Lord Tin Rank - +1 Willpower

Greaves of the Necro-Lord Tin Rank - +1 Willpower

Leggings of the Necro-Lord Tin Rank - +1 Willpower

Cuirass of the Necro-Lord Tin Rank - +1 Willpower

Vambraces of the Necro-Lord Tin Rank - +1 Willpower

Gauntlets of the Necro-Lord – Tin Ranked - +1 Willpower

Heraldry of the Necro-Lord – Tin Ranked - +1 Willpower

Helmet of the Necro-Lord – Tin Ranked - +1 Willpower

Shield of the Necro-Lord – Tin Ranked - +1 Willpower

The Necro Blade – Authority of the Dead

Garments of the Necro-Lord – Self-Cleaning and Self-Repairing

Assortment of Books and Notes

Attributes:

Strength: 51

Dexterity: 31

Constitution: 35

Intelligence: 31

Willpower: 81 + 9

Skills:

Class:

Death Strike level 1

Deathless Gaze level 11

Bone Storm level 21

Summon Lesser Undead level 22

Bone Shaping level 18

Life transference level 16

Necrotic Bolt Level 9

Eyes of the Dead level 3

Imbue Undead Level 5

Summon Servant level 1

Hordes of The Necro-Lord (Passive) + 50 Summon Pool. Summoned minions are 5 levels higher than then summoning skill and you can equip any minion with tier-appropriate equipment.

Neutral:

Mana Mastery level 25

Identify level 11

Meditation (Active) - Tin Rank

Battle Meditation (Passive) - Tin Rank

Blades – Basic (Passive)

Shields – Basic (Passive)

Pugilist – Basic (Passive)

Summoning Pool 2/66

Permanent Summons: 2/3

Ignatius Pennyfeather the Third – Servitor Flameskull

Solomon Pompilis – Juggernaut Draugr

Tempering:

Bones – Death Magic +5 Strength

Traits:

Apocalyptic Being - +1 to all attributes/level

System Breaker – You ignore the rules of the Gods

Avatar of Death and Destruction - +3 Free attributes/level

Unstoppable Will- +25 Willpower

Pain Tolerance – Increased resistance against pain

Ignatius and Bel had gone over the status last night, making sure that things were clear to Bel. The status included stuff not currently on him, but in the pile, he had looted. Such as the money Crow had on him and the food he brought. Bel was glad for the food, it was fresh food, made in a kitchen, not by a dungeon. It was also packed in travel wraps as Ignatius called it. Which meant they wouldn’t spoil unless the seal was broken.

Bel was satisfied with what he saw and he had decided. It was time to leave this place. Butterflies immediately started to fly around his stomach and up his throat, trying to get out that way.

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“Ignatius, Solomon, it’s time to leave.” The two undead looked at him but said nothing. Bel got to his feet, finishing his brunch, he wasn’t hungry he just ate when he was stressed.

Gathering his minions behind him he walked over to the dungeon core. His armor was clean and shining, the helm hung on his belt and his sword and shield were on his back, leaving his arms free.

Reaching out for the core he made to grab it, just as a wave of anger slammed down on him.

“Fool! You rejected my offer. You have no idea what you will face out there, the persecution and death that will follow you. No matter then. Even if you will not join me, you will still be doing my bidding. That is if you survive.” The voice startled Bel as he looked toward its source, the back of the room had changed to show the chained corpse sitting on its throne. It was smiling at Bel with anger in its eyes. Bel realized something was wrong.

A sharp pain spread throughout his right hand. He looked down and from the basin of the dungeon core, a small needle had emerged on a tail made out of bone. It had pierced through Bel’s armor like it wasn’t even there shimmering like it was made out of air. Bel had missed it during his thorough search. He understood why as the thing melted back into the basin, merging with it perfectly.

You have been poisoned – Vile Umber Oil

He heard someone chuckle behind him, but Bel's focus was on his hand. The sensation was spreading throughout his body. It was painful, so very painful, even with his higher tolerance. Gritting his teeth, he pulled off his glove and looked at his hand. A web of dark tendrils was spreading through the blood and flesh of his hand, wherever it touched, the skin cracked and black blood started to leak from the wound.

Within seconds it was making its way up his arm. Bel gritted his teeth but didn’t scream. He was used to pain by now.

“Ignatius, what do I do?” Bel looked at his companion.

“I am... not sure... This shouldn’t be happening! I thought of everything...” Ignatius seemed to be in shock.

“You better think of something quickly, because I can feel the poison reaching for my heart.” Bel was trying to remain calm, taking deep breaths to keep his pulse down.

“I don’t know! I can’t think of anything, we have no medicine or cure potions.” The skull was screaming, giving the impression that he would be pulling his hair if he could.

Bel realized that this was it then. He wouldn’t die in combat or be hunted down by some zealots; he would die by poison and no one would ever know what happened to him. He was far from okay with it, but there was nothing he could do.

“Tempering.” Solomon said suddenly.

“What?!” Ignatius swiveled towards him.

“Tempering makes you resistant to poison and disease.” Solomon clarified, he sounded somber and a little unsure.

“You’re right. Tempering your blood and flesh is the next step, but we don’t have enough resources, mana, or time!” Ignatius's voice fell, the hope from before dying.

“Kill the core.” Solomon whispered in a hushed tone, either trying to keep the words from Death’s ear or because he was afraid of what he was proposing.

…

“That is suicide!” Ignatius shouted. Laughter echoed around them.

“You two better make up your mind quick.” Bel slurred his words; he had black spots in his vision and trouble standing. He steadied himself on the basin, the needle didn’t appear again.

The silence was heavy but short.

“Master... Bel. Listen to me, focus.” Bel tried looking at Ignatius but the spots were distracting and suddenly felt sick to his stomach, he spewed a wave of blood.

“Bel. Kill the core, crush it in your hands and accept the levels it will give you. It should bring you to Bronze. I will try to keep this short, but you must do what I say.” Ignatius was speaking fast but clearly, Bel tried to hang on to every word.

“Going from one tier to the other changes you on a fundamental level, it remakes your entire being in a way. Each tier is different but at Bronze, it remakes your body. Most people temper before reaching the tier, that way they are remade even stronger. However, you must temper and ascend at the same time. This will put a tremendous amount of pressure and pain on your body. Normally a person loses consciousness and the process completes automatically. You need to stay awake and guide the process throughout every part of your body.” Ignatius was speaking faster and faster as time slipped away.

“If you fail or do this wrong, you might die. If the worst should happen, you will become a mana-husk, your core and mind destroyed, and the only part of you left would be the will to drain mana from others. Do you understand me? You must stay awake. Now go!” Bel heard the voice of someone in the distance, he didn’t understand it all but he remembered that it was important.

As the voice screamed at him, he wrinkled his brow, black tendrils spreading all over his face. He looked down at a black, glowing rock before him. He hated that rock for some reason, he wanted it gone, destroyed. Grabbing the rock from the bowl his hand passed through the white glowing barrier, stinging his left hand, his right didn’t seem to be working right now.

Grabbing the black stone, he squeezed it. There was a sort of strange resistance at first but soon the rock cracked and a distant scream of pain could be heard. A wave of energy entered his system, blowing away his confusion and clearing his mind.

He could feel his body being suffused in the energy like so many times before, his traits triggering growth and his level increasing. It climbed upwards and he felt as if it was filling him like a glass of water, and when it reached a certain height it hit a blockage, the power couldn’t go anywhere, so it started to push against this barrier.

The sensation was painful, the barrier was his body and the energy wanted to push through it, filling him, changing him. The power whispered in his ear that he should sleep, the power wanted to help him but it couldn’t as long as he was awake. Sleep it said again, more forcefully this time.

Bel felt his eyes drop, it could be over soon, all he had to do was sleep and then he wouldn’t hurt anymore. He was so tempted he felt his head drop against his chest. A sharp pain woke him as someone slapped him across the face.

Suddenly his consciousness returned as did the pain. The pain of the poison eating his body, rotting it from within, and the pain of the energy, trying to remake him at the same time.

Bel bit his teeth so hard he felt them crack. The pain was worse than what even Crow had made him endure. Focusing on the process he felt the energies within competing, the leveling was strengthening his bones, flesh, and blood. No, strengthening wasn’t the right word Bel thought to himself. It was cleaning him, taking away impurities and imperfections.

He didn’t know how to start, but he focused on his heart. He could see it, the organ was barely beating, half of it black and oozing from the poison. The energy followed his will hesitantly, it wanted to work a certain way, the way it had always done, and Bel was interfering with that.

It felt like he was moving a mountain with his mind but the energy obeyed after a brief struggle, entering his heart. When the two opposing forces met, they fought. Cells burst and regrew within milliseconds of each other, endlessly battling. The poison was insidious, growing back any time it was cured.

It felt like a losing battle, but Bel didn’t relent. Instead of admitting defeat, he focused on spreading the energy, fighting on other fronts as well as his heart. Directing the energy towards his other organs, the battle started to shift in his favor. The pain was constant and a distraction, but his iron will kept him going.

The black poison was slowly being expunged from his body, millimeter by millimeter his body was reborn. His heart was beating strong again, stronger than ever before. His lungs were healed and he took a deep breath, clearing away much of the fog on his mind. Standing up he straightened his back and directed the power more easily. Soon his entire being was remade and a smile touched his lips. It lasted for a second before a torrent of black tar-like substance exploded from his mouth, it felt like he puked up everything he had ever eaten through his entire life.

thirty seconds later the flow stopped as abruptly as it came. The smell that hit him was the vilest he had ever smelled. He was gagging and he didn’t want to risk puking again so he backed away and grabbed a bottle of wine, pouring the entire content on his face and mouth.

Now he smelled like a drunk but that was better than the smell from before. He wiped away as much of the substance on his face and chest as he could, with a rag he found amongst Crow's belongings.

He didn’t know how much time had transpired but he looked around and saw that Ignatius and Solomon were watching him and the visage of Death was gone. Bel nodded in gratitude towards Solomon, who sheepishly looked away. Bel noticed something wrong with the wall behind them. He couldn't see what was wrong at first but as he watched a little closer, he saw that the walls were starting to crumble. Turning towards the dungeon core, he saw where it had fallen. The thing lay on the floor where he had dropped it.

The stone was cracked and leaking light, but there was still a smidge of its essence left. Holding out his hand he summoned a small Bone Storm in his hand, then he used Bone Shaping, forming it into a simple spear. The first thing he ever used down here. For old time's sake, he thought. Walking up to the stone, he slammed the butt of the spear down, crushing it.

You have slain the Dungeon Core – Dungeon of the Lone Peak.

You have been awarded 1 Free Attribute.

You have been awarded 1 Free Skill level.

You have been marked as a Dungeon Slayer.

You have leveled up x4.

You have tempered your Flesh and Blood in Pure Mana.

You have ascended to Bronze Tier.

Bel felt like a new man, better than had ever felt before. Not even his first few levels had felt this good. He quickly distributed his attributes, bringing willpower up to 100 and the last point into dexterity. His free skill level he put into his summoning skill. The walls were quickly starting to crumble around him, but there was still some time left.

“Where did he go?” Bel asked Ignatius. He didn’t need to specify who he meant.

“When you destroyed the core, this place turned into any other dungeon exit. His power was severed and he was sent back to wherever place he exists now. You did it, Master. You’re free of him... for now.” Ignatius's voice was jubilant until he said the last part. But his mood didn’t diminish that much, this was too big of a victory.

“Finally.” Bel was trembling but he gripped the spear and steadied himself. His face was paler than ever after his ordeal but his smile was pure as sunlight.

“Let’s leave this place. I have some questions for you Ignatius, about this mark for starters, but now I want to feel the sun on my face again.” With a wave of his hands, he opened the way out. He knew what to do, the knowledge came with killing the core.

A wind picked up around him carrying the stench of decay on it, a fitting farewell from the dungeon. A vortex soon opened, forming a tunnel leading toward a bright light. With a smile still on his lips, he left the dungeon, his followers and minions close behind him.

The vortex was a dark mass formed from nothing around them, widening to accommodate them all. The light before Bel was so strong, he couldn’t see anything as he approached it. Closing his eyes, he stepped through. Warmth spread across his skin as the sun shone down upon his face, he raised his head to greet it.

“Ehm Master, open your eyes please.” Ignatius said in a worried tone.

Bel cracked his eyes open carefully, the light still hurting a little. Before him an army of white-clad warriors stood, all with fear and shock written on their faces. Just in front of him only a few meters away, two young warriors stood, a man and a woman. Both had frozen from fear, their hands trembling as they held a strange device in their off-hands.

Bel was stunned to see these people, but he was even more surprised by the group standing to the side of the gathered force. A group of individuals that stood out amongst the white-clad warriors. Bel didn’t notice anyone but the man at the front. An olive-skinned individual with blonde hair, he recognized him. It was the man from his dreams.

The two groups looked at each other for a moment. When Bel decided he needed to defuse the situation.

“Oh, Hi.” He was about to raise his hand in greeting when all hell broke loose.