CHAPTER SIX - THE LANCER

Ardreth leaped over the pit of stakes, rolling as he hit the stone floor. The purple bruises on his forearms tender, legs trembling, he held his dagger in shaky hands, eyes darting about the maze. He crept on through the passage, hoping salvation would arrive. His pointed ears picked up a heavy scratching growing ever closer. He turned, blade out, as a hairy brown blur dashed at his legs.

“Aghhh!” He let out a startled cry as the oversized rodent gnawed at his exposed ankle, rotten yellow teeth the size of arrowheads burying into his flesh.

He thrust his blade into the assailant's sinuous hide, stabbing in a frenzy. The giant rat swiped at the blade with a thick whip-like tail as it chomped, its hideous snout dripping red. Ardreth slashed and hacked until he felt the pressure release from his ankle, a putrid stench leaking from a littering of wounds in the monster’s back.

Ardreth kicked the limp sack of flesh and fur away and collapsed against a wall, catching his breath before bandaging his wound with a length of fabric torn from his green tunic. He gritted his teeth, pulling tight.

I’m going to die here, far from the trees, in this dank crypt of stone.

Another one of those weird messages appeared in front of him.

You have defeated an [Engorged Rat].

* [Strength] has increased by 1.

* [Vitality] has increased by 1.

* You have received: 5 fate.

More of this nonsense. How about I receive a way home, the elder should have never sent us to this accursed tower.

Cursing his luck, Ardreth stumbled to his feet. He only managed one step before his ankle buckled, landing hard on his side. He felt a sting in his eyes and let out a choking sob. Then a sound. The clap of leather on stone, strong purposeful strides, and a shadow cast over him.

“Another soul, lost in the maze?” A strange voice asked in an unfamiliar accent.

Looking up, Ardreth was greeted by a tall, lean man, probably human judging by the rounded ears. He had slicked back dark hair, and a hawk nose. He wore a heavy black cloak that swallowed the light, and carried a long spear in one hand.

“Thank Crannbeatha, I’m saved. Please sir, I’m in need of assistance.” Ardreth said.

“I can see that, nasty run in with a rodent aye?” The man asked.

Ardreth nodded, he might finally have a chance to make it out after all.

“Worry not, I will ease your pain.” The man said, extending his free hand to Ardreth.

“Thank you sir, my ankle, it's all torn up.” Ardreth said as he took the hand.

The stranger pulled him to his feet, leaning close to whisper in his ear.

“Another soul to put out of their misery.”

Ardreth felt a tightness in his chest, the taste of metal rushed into his mouth, and he hacked a wet heaving cough. A splatter of crimson saliva hit the stranger in the face. He felt light in the head, and all the color and warmth seeped out of the world.

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The gullible elf boy slumped off Sven’s spear with a thud, blood pooling around his torso. He wiped the blood-filled spittle from his face, curling his lips in disdain.

You have defeated [Ardreth Oakenlund] (Ascendant).

* [Vitality] has increased by 1.

* [Soul Reaper]: [Speed] has increased by 2.

* You have received: 20 fate.

* You have received: [Steel Dagger] (common).

[Optional Task] Kill Ascendants.

* Ascendants killed (3/5).

That’s it? 20 fate and a dagger? Useless knife-ear.

Sven swung his spear in a tight arc, splattering excess blood onto the stone floor. He tore a piece of bloodied cloth from the elf boy’s tunic and sent it to his inventory. Slicking back a loose hair, he opened his statistics page.

Sven Faucheur

[Race]: Human variant - Xernian

[Class]: Unassigned

[Statistics]

* [Strength]: 28

* [Speed]: 30

* [Endurance]: 24

* [Vitality]: 21

* [Spirit]: 21

* [Focus]: 26

[Abilities]

[Inventory]

[Equipment]

[???]

He closed the window with a thought and strode down the passage, leaving the elf boy's corpse for the bugs and rodents that patrolled the maze.

Half the prize, and twice the blood all over my new cloak. One would expect the meekling to go cleaner than the brute, but I suppose life is full of twisted little jokes.

Shaking his head and straightening his posture, Sven took a sharp turn out of the corridor, hungrier than when he had entered.

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Corin and Alize trod down passage after passage, his new abyssal sight revealing traps and other hazards, typically hidden beyond the dim torchlight, well before they could become a concern. As they navigated the endless halls, they discussed the contents of the chest as well as the tower’s ‘interactive ascendant display’ and shared stories of their homelands.

The book, tattered and age-stained, contained what appeared to be the scribblings of a mage. Large sections of pages had been ripped out in a hasty fashion, and the pages that remained were barely legible. The inventory system recognised the text as ‘Thalamine’s Journal’. Who Thalamine was and why his journal was left deep in the maze was a mystery to them both.

Shrugging the book aside, Corin had asked Alize about the colored potions. According to her inventory; the yellow potion was an ‘elixir of strength’, the green potion was an ‘elixir of endurance’, and the orange potion was an ‘elixir of fire resistance’.

Self-explanatory, Corin had thought as he had vanished the elixir of strength into his inventory.

Corin explained what he had surmised of the tower and its magical system. The way stronger foes delivered greater rewards, how statistics were a numerical expression of one’s capabilities, and how the floor required tasks to be met in order to proceed.

Finally, they traded stories of life growing up in vastly different worlds. Corin was surprised to learn that Alize had never seen nor spent coin in her entire life. The draelin lived with the land; hunting, gathering, cultivating, and sharing their abundant resources amongst each other. She was a born talent, and had trained to be a spellweaver since reaching adolescence.

He was pleased to discover they were of a similar age, both young adults by their respective cultural standards, and although there was a large discrepancy in their cultural knowledge, their shared interest in magic made conversation light and easy.

Corin had burst out laughing multiple times seeing the shock on Alize’s face as he discussed city life in Yaron.

He had described the Academy, a floating marvel of magical engineering, hovering above the sandstone city, its students coming and going on flying carpets and brooms, the teleportation circle in the main square. It looked as though she was struggling to create a picture of it all, each new description creating something grander and grander in her mind.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

He mentioned Hakim, how he couldn’t stand the arrogant prince at first, and how through proximity and determination the young prince had won him over.

And he talked, briefly, about the struggle of those living in the shadow of the academy, those who toiled in the mines and stole to put food on the table.

Alize seemed more shocked by that than anything. She asked how, in a world rich in magic and learning, could people mistreat each other so. Corin was only mildly surprised to hear such honest thoughts, raw in innocence and a life lived in mutual trust and abundance. He had to admit, he envied the draelin.

The passage of time was elusive in the maze. No natural light pierced the ever-present gloom, every passage a mirror of the last. Eventually, the pair came into a wide open hall, twice the height of any passage previous.

Corin felt naked and exposed in the open space. He smelt something sulfuric, like the hot springs of Alameer, and heard a whistle of air rushing through a gap in the stones somewhere above.

Sticking out an arm to caution Alize, he crept into the room, scimitar in hand. Alize, meanwhile, hadn’t moved an inch.

“Uhm, Corin…” She said,

Corin kept his eyes forward, scanning.

“What is it?” He asked.

“Look.” She replied.

Corin turned around to see Alize pointing with her staff. He followed its length to stare at a blank wall of stone on the other side of the room.

“I don’t see anything.”

“You can’t see it? It’s a bright green door Corin…”

“What are you talking about, all I see is stone.”

“Really? But, it's there, as sure as a tree sheds leaves in the fall.”

“Wait, what color did you say it was?”

“Green, like the first one.”

“Like the first one…”

Corin put it together before Alize could,

“It must be your exit Alize. You can get out of here!” He said with a smile.

“What? What about you? Why just me?”

Corin saw the realization dawn on her face.

“You came through the black door…”

Corin nodded, “And out the black door I must go.”

“It's not fair, you helped me all this way, what if you get stuck in here?” She asked, a look of dismay creeping onto her pretty face.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. Come on, let's get you out of here.”

He started heading for the section of wall she had been pointing at.

There was a distinct click as Alize moved to follow. He spun around, but it was too late. A loud hiss leaked from the ceiling, then a deep whoosh, as a torrent of orange flame illuminated the hall. He heard Alize scream and caught her shadow rolling out of the way.

Sprinting around the inferno, tears welling in his eyes as he choked on black fumes, he found Alize sprawled out on the stone floor, her left leg bright pink. She let out hideous screams as she swatted lingering flames with the hem of her robes. Scooping her up, he carried her out of the radiating heat.

Setting her down carefully, he inspected her wounds. The skin was bright red and peeling, the bottom of her robe singed, the acrid scent of charred meat heavy in the air.

Thinking fast, he grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her to look at him.

“Alize, drink the elixir of fire resistance.”

Her face was twisted in agony, tears cascading down puffy cheeks as she broke into a fit of coughing. He heard the roar of the fire die down behind him as he opened his mouth.

“Alize!” He shouted.

Her eyes met his and this time he spoke softly, “Use the fire elixir, and a healing spell if you can.”

Alize managed a nod, a sparkle of light summoning the orange potion to her hand. Corin plucked it from her grasp, undid the stopper, and fed it to her. She made no protest as he gently guided the vial to her lips and tipped it back. A faint orange glow limned her body and her face returned to a more subdued expression.

“Thank you.” She said, her voice raspy and dry.

“Can you cast your healing magic?” He asked.

“I think so,” She replied, pulling up her staff before summoning her floating spellbook.

“Good, don’t stop until the burn is gone, I’d hate for it to get infected.”

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Sven stalked through the flickering hallways of the endless maze, ears open to the scuttling of bugs or the whirring of traps. He had had a close run in with a hidden crossbow while chasing after his first victim. The slippery little halfling had ducked right under the bolts while Sven had turned his momentum into something of a powerslide. He smiled, remembering how it had felt to run his spear through the cowards back, the comical way he slid off the end like a greasy pig. And the awakening of soul reaper, it had been a most excellent welcoming to the second step of his trial.

I wonder who I’ll get next, hopefully they’re a bit stronger than that elf was.

Sven’s train of thought was interrupted as he heard a shout from down the passage. It sounded close.

He strode down the hallway and glimpsed around the corner. The smell of smoke and charred meat tickled his nose as he stuck his head into the next passage, at the end he could see an archway leading into a vast hall space. He shuffled along the wall and snuck a peek inside.

On his right were two figures; one tall, with broad shoulders, and a curved blade at his hip. The other, a slight elven girl, with a meek complexion, holding a wooden staff.The tall warrior-type was fussing over the girl, his back to the hall.

Sven weighed his options.

The hall was wide, with a passage leading out each wall, his footsteps would be heard well before he was in striking range. The elf girl looked like a healer, taking her out would be easy, it was the big lad he had to watch out for. A devious scheme hatched within Sven’s mind.

He withdrew the stained rag claimed from his last victim, and wrapped it around his leg before hobbling into the hall.

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Corin watched as the burn on Alize’s leg shrunk until nothing but pale unmarked skin remained.

“Can you stand?” He asked.

Alize nodded, “Yes, I feel good as new, thank you.”

“That’s good, gave me a hell of a fright, let’s get you to that door–”

“Help!” A strange voice called from behind.

Corin spun on his heels, hand on his hilt. A cloaked man was hobbling towards them, using a spear to support his weight. He had a bloodied green rag wrapped around his calf, and his mouth contorted with each step.

“Thank the lords, I finally found someone in this horrid maze.” The stranger said.

“Corin, look, we have to help him.” Alize said, taking off towards the stranger.

Narrowing his eyes, Corin took a step into a shadow cast by the nearby passage entrance. Activating Abyssal sight, his eyes went wide. A miasma of purple energy enveloped the stranger. It was dense, with flickers of silver floating within its haze.

Stronger than mine.

Corin bided his time, tapping his pommel, eyes trained on the stranger's right hand.

Alize was about three paces away when the man made his move, dropping the act, his lips twisting into a grin, spear flashing out.

[Shadow Ambush] has been activated. Time remaining: 00:10.

* [Strength] has increased to 32.

* [Speed] has increased to 33.

The shadows beneath Corin’s feet came alive, coiling up his legs. Then he was snaking across the hall on a carpet of darkness, his scimitar flicking the end of the spear harmlessly into the air.

Alize let out a shriek and stumbled back. The dead black eyes of the stranger narrowed, grimacing as he leaped back, spear held in a low guard.

“We have to get you out of here,” Corin said, turning on his heels and gathering up Alize as he broke into a sprint.

“Corin, what’s happening?” She asked, panic in her voice.

“You have to learn Alize, not everyone wants to be friends.” Corin said, his shadow empowered body propelling them away from the spearman.

“Alize, where’s the door?” He asked.

Alize pointed at the wall to their left, as heavy steps tailed them..

“Go! I’ll find you, I promise. Don’t worry, I can handle fish-eyes.” He said, letting her down and pushing her towards the wall.

“You better find me Corin, I won’t forgive you if you don’t.” She said, running for the door he couldn't see.

Corin spun just in time to parry a deftly aimed spear tip, pushing the advantage as the spear flung away.

[Shadow Ambush] Time remaining: 00:02.

Corin unleashed a flurry of slashes, forcing the man back, not giving him an opening to strike.

“You’re pretty strong, how many I wonder.” The man said through gritted teeth.

How many?

Corin kept pressing his attack, the stranger leaping back creating space. Corin moved to engage but his steps were sluggish, the weight of his blade more noticeable.

Damn, out of time already?

The stranger took the opening, responding with lightning fast stabs at Corin’s legs and torso. Now Corin was on the backfoot. The lancer was good, his attacks well timed and with killing weight behind them, each parry a narrow thing. Sweat beaded on Corin’s forehead, and a rapid thump built in his chest.

He’s stronger than me.

“Tell me swordsman, why not kill the elf too?”

Corin raised an eyebrow, slipping a strike to the head and retreating several paces. The stranger held back, dead black eyes inspecting Corin’s face.

“Too?” Corin asked, beginning to circle.

“Oh, you don’t know. Let me ask, how did you get so strong?”

Corin shrugged, the man’s words tugging at his brain, what didn’t he know?

“No need for secrets now lad, you’ll be gone soon enough.”

“Let me ask, how are you so strong? What don’t I know?” Corin said, a thin smile at his lips.

“Hah! And I only needed two more, what a shame she got away.”

Corin wracked his head, eyes narrowing as he came to a grim realisation.

“That’s not your blood, is it?” He asked, glancing at the blood soaked rag wrapped around the man’s leg.

“Perceptive too. Tell you what, since you’ll be joining them soon, I’ll let you in on a little secret. Monsters aren’t the only things worth killing.” The man said, smiling.

Corin knew it, a factor of the tower he had overlooked. In a world as dangerous and twisted as this it only made sense that one could steal power from another by way of force. He was dealing with a dangerous man.

The man darted at Corin, purple lightning crackling along the point of his spear. With natural selection and shadow ambush on cooldown, he only had one ace up his sleeve.

Jumping with all his strength Corin activated flight, black wings unfurling before the spearman like an angel of death. The lance of purple lightning streaked into the air, trailing Corin. He spun, running his blade along the length of the spear, deflecting it back to the ground. Purple lightning arced from tip to blade, but Corin was a step ahead. With a thought he dismissed his scimitar to his inventory, the purple lightning blinking out with it.

He heard the man let out a grunt as he flew through the nearmost passage and into the shadows.

“I’ll get you swordsman, trust the lords I’ll get you!” The stranger shouted at his back.

Corin wiped the sweat from his brow as he flew deeper into the maze, hoping the lancer would lose his scent.

That was close, too close. He was better than me. I need to get stronger if I want to survive.

A display appeared as he sped headlong through the dark passageways.

You have completed: [Optional Task] Help the Elf.

Congratulations! You have helped your companion out of the maze.

* All [Statistics] have increased by 1.

* You have received: 100 fate.

* You have received: [Ability]: [Shadow Aegis] (epic).