Third Floor - Wallow Dungeon
A piercing howl jolted Drake awake, but his heightened stats helped him reach awareness quickly. A chorus of other howls filled the air after what must have been Draug’s, and Drake heard Ceyrin shout, “Riders!”
The camp had slowly been waking up, and Drake was one of the last to rise, which he’d expected, after staying up so late. What he hadn’t expected was for the wolf riding goblins and their hobgoblin allies to attack them so late in the morning. He assumed one of their leaders had gotten impatient, and as he ran out of his tent, he found chaos. The minotaur built like a bison, Bram, was already surrounded by three, but the furious warrior was laying into them, and their mounts. One swing from him could, and had, split both goblin and rider in half.
Drake, being a fan of canines, immediately recognized that the goblin’s mounts had been driven mad by hunger and pain, arguably more brutalized than the sentients the goblins captured. It’d take years to rehabilitate them, in facilities that simply didn’t exist on Arcadia. He heard Ceyrin screech in alarm, and Drake saw why. Draug was surrounded by five riders and four rather large hobgoblins. Drake started running, seeing everyone else was adapting to combat with who they happened to be near. He also noted their enemies this morning were level sixty five. Ceyrin’s scouting had put them at least ten levels lower just a day before.
Drake heard the thudding of soft feet beside him as he ran for Draug, the only member of the party in real danger at that moment, and found Leif, daggers drawn. The fox man grimaced, but nodded. “Take the left!” Drake shouted, activating his Buff, and shooting ahead with his Step of the Wind. A moment later, a hobgoblin went soaring sixty feet in the air, immediately after, a rider and his rabid mount were slammed into the ground and then hammered twice, four times, eight, sixteen, thirty times in total, before the goblin finally died. An arrow through the neck had killed the hobgoblin in flight, and another arrow mercifully ended the wolf under Drake, leaving him to keep going.
Not to be outdone, Leif had leapt onto the back of a hobgoblin, and cut its throat with a single deadly sneak attack, leaping off it and onto a rider. One dagger cut the wolf’s throat, while the other was parried once by the goblin, but another quick stab through its eye and into its brain ended it, as well. Getting clever, Drake shouted, “Leif!” And then hammered one of the two remaining hobgoblins, sending it into the air horizontally this time, and straight into the other hob. They collided in a blubbery goblin heap, and Leif quickly cut their throats.
By that point, the three remaining riders turned on their new adversaries, and Drake had to raise a gauntleted hand as wolf fangs came down on his arm with frenzied strength. The goblin stabbed with its spear, but Drake grabbed it and crushed it in his grip, with strength now comparable to a level eighty adventurer thanks to the absurd stat boost his medallion gave. Using his firebending, he raised a hand and Shouted, turning the Yol into a sudden, massive flamethrower that turned the foul rider into ash. Across from him, the turtle man who Drake hadn’t really spoken with yet came to Leif’s aid, drawing his rider’s focus and pulping his mount’s head with his warhammer, while the nimble fox Rogue lunged at the goblin and stabbed it in the heart, neck, and skull in rapid succession.
Then, a blur of blue stabbed the rabid, clearly starved wolf that was savaging Drake in its muzzle, making it open its jaws in reflexive pain and releasing Drake’s arm, before the magical momentum behind the masterfully aimed sword stroke sent it flying and rolling into a nearby tree. The ominous crack of bone, likely its spine or ribs, ended the poor creature quickly. Rael helped Drake to his feet, and then dizziness overtook him. Glancing at his arm, he saw the wolf’s fangs had properly opened it, and blood was spraying rather quickly from it. “Velda!” He heard Rael shout, but the sound seemed far away.
Drake took a breath, and forced his body to stay upright, and focused. He ignored the burning pain in his nerves or the warm, wet spray of blood coating the ground, and his outfit. Then, intensely powerful light from a golden rune that appeared over the grisly wound surged into his screaming nerves, soothing them as it rapidly repaired blood vessels, tendons, muscle and skin. Only the lower part of his forearm had suffered, Drake noted. The top had been protected by the now thoroughly scratched gauntlet covering most of his hand and arm. He looked up to see the strange stone person, Veldra, he believed her name was, responsible for the powerful, rapid heal.
He gave her a thumbs up with the healed arm, and then his eyes widened as he saw the final rider going for her. Launching into the air, Drake blinked, as lightning surged around one fist, while the other drew a casing of stone around it. His first punch in this evidently new two-hit combo skill sent lightning surging into the Goblin Rider, and then his brutal stone fist turned its foul head into goo as the plasma lingering on its body surged into the stone fist and further empowered his follow-up strike.
Hearing heavy thudding paws and a premonitory snarl, Drake backflipped off the rabid wolf snapping at him, as Draug barreled it over, freshly healed by Ceyrin’s abilities, and one of their healers. The dire wolf tore the smaller one apart, and Drake looked around as he floated in the air. The campsite was littered with goblin bodies, but none of them were too injured.
“Class One, on me!” Rael shouted, raising his sword. In short order, all three of their parties gathered with practiced ease around their leader.
Not to be outdone, Drake landed roughly in the center of his Class, and raised a hand. “Revenge time! Assemble!” Not waiting on his peers, he let his robe flare as he approached the earthbended table they’d put a rough map of the floor on. Slowly, and more haphazardly, Class Seven assembled. Leif wasn’t visible, Bjorn decided to loot the bodies first, Nyara made sure the goblins were dead, and to her credit, found two that’d been faking, before she came over as well. Everyone else had been prompt in assembling.
“So.” Drake started, as he and Rael stood at opposite sides of the table, “What the fuck was that? Reinforcements?”
Rael nodded. “We are of a mind. It’s unlikely those were the Goblins we scouted yesterday…there’s no way Monsters get that much stronger that quickly…unless…” He shook his head. “It’s very unlikely.”
Drake slowly raised an eyebrow. “Iiiis there a way they could level up that fast?”
Rael gave him an inquisitive look. “I’m surprised you don’t already know. The only method known to us…is if they somehow acquired a shard of the Dark God’s power. An artifact, or corrupted magic item…just being near the power of their progenitor can level them quite quickly…but such artifacts are usually only the possession of a Demon Lord…and we haven’t had one of those in eons.”
Drake glanced down, as Rose’s tiny hand rested on his shoulder. “I’ve known Rael for a while. We should tell them. All of it.”
Drake smirked at her. “Maybe you should tell them. I’m nobody. You’re basically a Princess.”
She furrowed her brows at him. “You’re the world’s first Monk. Ever. And our leader.”
“As adorable as your lover’s banter is,” Rael cut in, “There’s a fortified fortress full of Goblins waiting on us, and he’s right, Rose. If you have information to share about the mysterious, handsome Monk that appeared out of nowhere, we’d believe it more coming from you, than from him. No offense, Drake.”
“None taken.” Drake said, smirking. “I’d be disappointed if you trusted me immediately.” With a nod from Drake, and a last-minute but probably smart sound muting barrier, and a Zone of Truth from Class One’s paladin, Rose told them, vaguely, of Drake being chosen by the Goddess, hence the experience buff, and that he’d come from another world, being reincarnated into this one. That was why none of them had heard of him, and why he was so strong. Strong enough to, she added, take on a level seventy five Raiju, and a level sixty Goblin King despite being very underleveled when facing them.
Drake added that his Shout, and unintentionally using it with no limit, had helped beat the Raiju more than anything. The only reason he hadn’t died was because of his absurd magic pool, Rose’s healing, and Quivering Palm. Quivering Palm had also saved their asses against the Goblin King, along with tactics.
“So you see,” Drake added once she finished, “If it’s the same Goblin King, the Goblin Emperor might well have figured out I have divine aid, and thus given his own servant something similar, knowing that I’d come here. There’s a good chance there’s a Goblin King in that fortress, empowered by Dagorath.”
Rael nodded, taking it all in stride. He seemed almost relieved when he’d heard Drake was apparently the God’s chosen. “So to have any hope against it at all, you have to face it, and that’s after we get the experience from clearing most of the fortress. But how do we draw them out…”
Drake grimaced. “Well…there’s a few options. We bombard it with Fireballs, fire arrows, and…something new I want to try myself, and see if that draws them out. If that doesn’t work…we rely on their lack of intelligence, and bait them with the lovely ladies in our Party. Then, once they make a move to snatch them, we murder them. One by one. Over and over.”
Rael was also grimacing. “That…could work, honestly. Goblins this high up in the Wallow are not the brightest. Their private parts do the thinking for them, outside of combat. Let's bombard them first, and see if we can’t set their base on fire. I’m interested to see what you have in mind.”
Drake grinned. “There’s a few…tricks I want to try with my Firebending. Save your spells, for now…if this works, I’ll be able to bombard them repeatedly from a distance, and they’ll have to come out to deal with me. Gimme ten minutes.”
Rael did so, and Drake left the actual assault of the fortress’s terrain to Vincent and the others as he found a spot away from the stench and gore to meditate, and focus. His plan was straight out of The Last Airbender, again, as he strove to revive Sparky Sparky Boom Man, and his overpowered firebending technique, in some form. Since his magic regenerated stupidly fast now, he could practice as hard as he needed, and would still be good to fight later.
He started by checking his status, and found that hitting sixty had given him a new at will ability, probably the one he’d just used. One element per hand, for him to mix and match as he pleased. The obvious combo with fire was air, but first, he had to make his fire dense and compressed as possible, holding it until it made contact with something, at which point, it would explode. This actually turned out to be surprisingly easy, and he supposed he was technically just recreating a Fireball spell with Ki. Picturing that, helped him keep the small fiery condensed ball intact up to super long distances from him, the max he managed to reach being around what he assumed was four hundred feet, more or less, at which point he used his bending to make the ball of flame expand violently.
Next, was compressing the air, which would add force and momentum to his Ki Fireball, essentially turning it into a firebomb. One that actually didn’t take much magic at all to form. No more than a basic Ki Blast, anyway. By the end of ten minutes, he returned confident that he could set the goblin’s fortress on fire.
Without further ado, the parties made their way towards the fortress, and Drake’s brows furrowed, as it looked…quite different than it had yesterday. There was a lot more metal, a lot more goblins, and just more fortress in general. It was at that point, that another explanation besides a rising Demon Lord presented itself for the level boost to their enemies. Taking eight hours to rest had seemingly given the goblins eight years to prepare themselves for the coming fight. Swearing, quietly, Drake signaled for Rael and his teams to join them again. “Change of plans…” He hissed, irritated, “They’ve bent time to give themselves more power. Leave the distraction to me, we’re going to need the spells later. Ceyrin, if you could cover me from the trees, that’d be great. Everyone else…get ready to ambush a lot more Goblins.”
Rael nodded, and he led both classes as Drake and the eagle man took their positions. “Try to keep the archers off me. I can handle everything else. You’ll know when to start.”
With a quiet nod, the ranger waited patiently from a good angle on the fortress and the haphazardly fortified battlements, and Drake flew high into the air, using his Step of the Wind to leap past the general eyeline of the goblins manning the fortress. They’d never been attacked from above, so why would they ever look up? Once more, Drake focused his Ki, and one hand burned to life with flames, while the other formed a compressed swirling cyclone of wind in his palm. He combined them, staying focused, aimed, and then fired. Repeatedly.
Suddenly, the almost idyllic Dungeon landscape was hammered with violent explosions, and they increased in pace, as Drake realized he could fire them faster. For three straight minutes, tiny orbs of orange death hammered the fortress. Supplies exploded, ballistae and huts caught fire, and the main gate took at least twenty blasts. Then, all went silent, save for the sounds of panicked, wounded, and burning goblins. In the following quiet, Drake smirked as he heard Vincent and Rael. “Holy shit…he’s a one man army…”
“Yea…Drake can do alot with his…Ki or whatever that turns classic spellcasting on its head. It’s fascinating.”
About a minute later, the firebombs rained down again, and the Academy students waiting in hiding watched in a mix of disbelief and awe, as it seemed giving the monk the epic amulet had indeed been a smart choice for the party. This time, the fireballs came even faster, as Drake had a handle on combining his elements now, or at least, air and fire, which naturally complemented each other.
"Shields up! Shields up!" One of the goblins shrieked, only to vanish in an explosion of expanding flames before he finished his sentence. Another group started chanting, their crude staves glowing with their foul goblin magic, until a firebomb hit their makeshift battlements, turning them into a column of flame leaving nothing but ash behind.
Quietly, the sorcerers and other magic users took notes. Replicating Drake’s feat would’ve burned through their mana four times over, and inwardly, every single one made a point to ask him about how he was managing to fire so many Fireballs at so little a price. This display of power was intoxicating to watch, but there had to be a trick to it. Not even past chosen heroes had been able to unleash this kind of ruthless fire barrage so fast, and so often.
Six minutes of firebombing passed, and the gate was mostly slag now. A few archers had tried shooting at where the firebombs were coming from, but Drake and Ceyrin had made short work of them, and their weapons. About two minutes passed, before they started up again, and Drake started bringing down the foundations of the fortress built into the mountain. There were always more goblins, but as their fortress literally fell on them, Drake burned any that might’ve survived in the wreckage. Then, he brought the finale. His Shout rang out over the sky, as high level hobgoblins started swarming out of the fortress interior. “Do…vah… Envok! Times three!”
The charging hobgoblins looked around in brief confusion, as silence reigned, and no more fireballs came. Then, the sky cracked, and their world turned blue. A bright blue beam of Ki energy carved through the hobgoblins, and burned its way into the entrance they’d come from. Drake kept the Kamehameha going, until he used as much magic as he dared. Two minutes later, as hobgoblins started appearing again after digging their way out through stone and corpses, Drake shouted, “NOW!” As he flew full speed, boosting himself with airbending, straight into the base. He encased both hands in stone, and as expected, combining an element with its same element with his new technique doubled its power. He hit the fortress’s center like a meteor, and the resulting earthquake buried the approaching hobgoblins in fissures in the earth that swallowed up and closed on them. It also ripped the front door off its hinges, and as the gathered adventurers charged in, yet more hobgoblins from below crawled out of the woodwork, and the ruined, firebombed fortress became a scene of pure chaos.
It was, Drake realized, a proper war. The hobgoblins were seemingly endless, but Drake didn’t waver. “Stay together! They have to run out of reinforcements eventually! Take down as many as you can!” They all knew the reason why, and sure enough, despite their enemies' high levels ranging from sixty five to sixty eight, the young students were effectively grinding them. By the time they finally stopped, their healers were winded, their tank’s abilities were all on cooldown, and the magic users were starting to flag. Even with his buff however, Drake was about halfway to sixty one. It seemed the grind got even harder every ten levels, but that just meant everyone else in their classes were able to catch up.
“Mana Potions!” Rael ordered, “We’re nowhere near done yet!”
“Ho ho ho hooo…” A deep laugh echoed through the area, and Drake grimaced, as did his party.
“I know that laugh…”
“Ho ho ho hoooo! Little God puppet remembers me! I remember him…” Sure enough, the Goblin King from Zemkarth reappeared, his ugly goblin face unforgettable, bloated and hideous as he was. This time, he was at level sixty eight. He was thinner, too, not muscular but stocky and in much better shape. “It's been mere days for you…but years for me…lucky I serve an Emperor who understands what threat you pose…” He held up a black piece of what seemed like something that belonged to a larger object, and had been broken off. It was radiating literal darkness, black and red energy surrounded it.
“Don’t let it eat that!” Rael shouted, his eyes wide, but his warning came too late. Drake tried firing a combination of compressed air and a reasonable chunk of stone this time, but the Goblin King had already swallowed the piece of what was likely a shard of a shard of Dagorath’s power. The bullet-like rock merely nicked his pointy green ear, and the Goblin King doubled over, as the shard’s power, even such a comparatively small amount of it, raised his level to seventy five before their eyes.
The physical changes it wrought were more noticeable. This time, its body did shed the fat, becoming less stocky and more classically muscular. The powerful legs became covered in green fur, the obscene feet of the grotesque goblin became cloven hooves. Large leathery wings sprouted from his back, and his yellow, flat toothed maw was now filled with a razor sharp grin. Horns erupted from his skull, jutting upwards, and he grew in size, to a solid fifteen feet in height. That fucking laugh of his did not change, though. “Ho ho ho hooo! My God blesses me! Quake, Mortals! A Demon Lord stands before you!” He let out a classic villain cackle that echoed through the entire Dungeon floor.
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Rael started to panic. “We…we need to run. We need to run Now! We have no chance against that thing!”
“FUCK. THAT!” Drake shouted, drawing everyone’s gaze, as he stepped forward, his inner Ki slowly manifesting in waves of white around his form. “I told this sentient piece of shit that I’d kill it when next I saw it.” His eyes were furious, and on fire, as he looked at Rael, the horrors of Zemkarth still fresh in his mind. “Don’t make me a liar, Rael.”
The strongest first year in the Academy blanched, his face white. “Drake…it’s over ten levels above us! It’s a nascent Demon Lord! We’re out of our fucking league, man!”
Drake looked back at the Goblin King. “Your league, maybe. This is exactly what I was brought to this World to face. I’m not letting this garbage out of here alive so it can rampage on the surface! Not without at least trying to bring it down! Who's with me!?”
Garret was there, shield ready, a grin on his leonine face. “I am with you, Drake Long. My word is my bond.”
Lyria stepped up as well. “This pig dies for good, this day. I don’t care how juiced up it is.”
Rose was next. “I’ll keep all of you up! The Gods are with us!” She looked at Rael, then. “The Raiju we faced was the same level…and we were much weaker, then. Help us, Rael.”
The blue haired sword mage was beyond reason, though. Too many legends and stories of these creatures had him crippled. To be fair though, nobody expected a Demon Lord level opponent in their first year at the Academy. “It’s over seventy! Do you not understand what that means!? You’re all fucking insane…”
Varian Rynn stepped forward then, grimacing at his leader. “Rael…he’s right. If this thing reaches the surface it’ll get even stronger. Thousands will die. There’s no fucking way I’m just running!” He readied his own shield, and abilities. The other tanks in Class One joined him, the turtle man’s runes activated along his shell, and the pompous paladin, though unnerved, would not be outdone.
Vincent stepped up alongside Drake, with Caelum, and the rest of those who hadn’t been at Zemkarth. Class Seven took their stances. “It’s just another sack of Health Points…” He said, pushing up his glasses so they caught the firelight, “and frankly…I want its loot.” That, more than the words of honor and bravado, convinced the rest of them to stand firm. Only Rael was left, shuddering in fear.
Then, the stoneforged woman, Veldra, put a firm hand on his shoulder. “Trust in your allies, and your power, Rael Astorius. It is time to live up to your family’s name.”
Rael took a shuddering breath, and managed to calm himself. Shakily, he raised his sword. “Fuck it, then. If we die, we die together!”
They should have perhaps been more concerned that the ascendant Goblin King, now classified as a Malblin King, had given them time to find their resolve. He cackled again, and raised his now muscular arms as they brimmed with black and red energy. “Good! I was hoping you would prove worthy of Dagorath’s blessing! My first blood offering to my God!” The fortress shuddered, and what shoddy wooden buildings hadn’t fallen in the firebombing now collapsed, crushing what sounded like more goblins within them. It seemed the Malblin King wanted them to itself.
Massive black obsidian pillars of stone rose from around the former fortress, and Drake quietly started to sweat. This thing might have been the same level as the Raiju, but the boost from Dagorath and being in a Dungeon made their respective power leagues apart. If they were to have any chance at all, they also needed divine assistance. In his head, Drake quietly said, “Are you with me too, Goddess Laurelin?”
A comforting warmth filled him, and he gasped as his Ki shifted from white to gold in color. “Always, my Hero. When your need is dire, call for Falkor. He has been leveling up as you have grown, for he is bonded to you now and forever. He is ready. But the timing must be perfect.”
“The Goddess is with us.” Drake affirmed, and he heard other soft gasps as the combined classes saw his light. “We’re the best in the Academy.” He said confidently. “Stick to your tactics, keep the healers alive, and hit this Demonic shitstain with Everything you have! Do not hold back, or death is guaranteed!” Gamer that he was, Drake understood, even here, it was a race against time. They needed to do more health damage than the Malblin King had, in the time it took their healers to run out of magic, and potions. Thankfully, his allies were rich snots, and thus well-stocked, but even wealthy adventurer potion hordes had a limit.
The adventurers roared in acknowledgement, as the Malblin King roared in fury, hatred forming in his eyes as he, and his new Patron, recognized the power supporting Drake. The debilitating debuff from his roar washed over them, but the Goddess’s power kept it from affecting them. Then, the tanks surged forward. Garret, Sethis, Ironside, Varian, and Vasari all started attacking at once, but it was Varian Rynn who took the aggro first. Red energy surged from his sword and into the Malblin King as he shouted, “Right here, shitspawn! Your fight is with me!”
The demonic goblin raised a muscular arm, but instead of corroded iron knuckles, this time, it brought a weapon into being composed of the dark power surging through him. A flail with serious Sauron vibes formed in his hand. The spiked black head of it was as large as Bjorn, and connected on a thick black chain to a spiked iron rod. The spawn of Dagorath brought it down on Varian’s shield, right as the warrior used a Parry at the perfect moment to deflect its momentum. The Malblin King stumbled back, as the momentum of his strike was suddenly reversed, knocking him off balance, and leaving him open. As one, the damage dealers attacked.
No less than ten powerful spells from the now collectively fifty five and above Academy students hammered the malblin, among them Drake’s rapidly fired firebombs, and Ceyrin’s magic infused arrows. The amount of damage to its visible health was negligible, but it was a chunk of it all the same. One large enough to give Drake a good measure. They could, with tactics, a little luck, and no full health regen bullshit, succeed in killing the monstrosity before them. “It bleeds! We can kill it!” Drake shouted, “Again!” He focused his Ki into multiple points of fire around him then, and saved magic by using the same larger but still compressed air burst to shoot the multiple Ki Fireballs at the corrupted goblin.
The Malblin King regained his balance quickly, despite the combined spells forcing him a step back, and this time, his foul flail connected with Varian’s shield. Despite his defensive skill meant to mitigate damage, it took him down to a single quarter of his health. In one blow. If the shield had been anything but the highest quality money could afford, it would’ve likely shattered. Thankfully, runite did not break easily. Flames burning with healing light surged into Varian, bringing him back to full health, but the knight knew when they were outmatched. “Vasari! Only you can tank those!” The turtle man nodded, and stepped forward. Being a Rune Knight, and a turtle, he was exceptionally slow, but extremely hard to kill.
He leveled his warhammer at the Malblin King, forcing its attention onto him now, instead of Varian as a rune appeared on the foul beast’s brow, and exploded. The next flail attack was faster than it should have been able to be, but Vasari was ready, as he intoned his ridiculous defensive magic. “Perfect Shield!” The barrier of white energy flared with one of the rune’s on the turtle man’s shell, and the rebounded momentum of the swing violently rippled through the flail’s chain, ripping the jagged black metal handle from even the Malblin King’s iron grip.
Another round of spells struck. Vincent laid down debuffs designed to slow his target, and severely weaken its attack power, which would hopefully make its attacks manageable by the tanks, and easier on their healer’s magic pools. Behind it, the more stealthy party members finally struck, as the twin cat girls, one now in the form of a massive white saber-toothed panther, tore into the malblin’s heels, specifically the tendons helping it stay upright. The rogue’s blades were also coated with multiple poisons, further meant to weaken its attack power, and the corrosive black essence spread up the creature’s calves, turning its veins black as its blood was corrupted.
Drake, for his part, saw an opportunity. He was a white blur in the air, as he went for the fallen flail, and combining his metalbending with lightning, he used his Ki to swing the now sparking weapon around at the Malblin King’s head as he rotated in the air. An ungodly crack echoed through the ravaged fortress, and he finished his spin, purposefully tossing the weapon far away from their enemy. He’d either have to spend power making a new one, or spend power recalling that one to his hand.
The improvised strike with a weapon that large did manage to daze him though as electricity surged through his skull, and Vincent shouted, “Bring it down!” as the creature stumbled unsteadily. Another barrage of spells slammed into it, followed by a Greater Earth Elemental tackling it after being summoned by Lyria, and Draug, who was pouncing on the foul creature. All of that, every attack, every spell, even the flail, only managed to bring the nascent Demon Lord to three quarters of its health which, at that point, triggered a perhaps not entirely surprising change in its fighting style. At least for Drake, anyway.
A wave of dark force surged through them, sending the entirety of both classes slamming into the obsidian walls. Only Vasari remained in place, as did Lyria’s elemental, firmly entrenched in the earth as it was. Drake tried to cushion the impact with airbending, as he was out of range of the large area of effect attack at that moment, but he only managed to catch Rose, Tala, Elara, and Veldra. He’d prioritized the healers for obvious reasons. Caelum and Class One’s snake woman had been too far away, but Rose and Tala were on it, as they landed safely thanks to Drake and cast a combined Mass Heal.
Vincent had also, thanks to a quickly cast spell on himself, managed to lessen the brutal impact. “Vincent!” Drake got his attention. “I need Haste! Tell Lyria to Enlarge me once she’s up!” He held up a palm radiating with golden Ki, that shifted to red specifically around his palm, as it started to visibly quiver. The Malblin King’s eyes narrowed, as he recognized that attack, and with his next move, he recalled his flail, and summoned a massive demonic tower shield that had a gaping dragon’s maw hanging open carved into the metal. The maw flickered with flames, and Drake had no doubt it could probably spew them like an actual dragon.
Drake’s pupils widened, as he felt Haste take effect, alongside several tier two Buffs from Tala and Rose as well. The rest of the party was on their feet again, with the tanks and rogues already running towards the Malblin King again. Vasari took its focus again though, as another rune on his shell activated, this one making him almost as tall as the nascent Demon Lord himself. A second rune popped then, as his turtle eyes became clouded with storms, and as the Malblin King struck again, the slow moving and now giant turtle simply sidestepped the mace, dodging it by less than an inch, as if he saw it coming, and countered with a brutal upswing from his warhammer to the monster’s jaw.
“Rael!” Drake shouted, as he stomped the ground, raised a boulder, and used one hundred and twenty six Dragon’s Fangs to fire chunks of the boulder at the malblin like a stoney machine gun. “Give me an opening!”
Rael was slow to get back on his feet, but Drake’s words galvanized him. “Aeliana!” He got his class wizard’s attention. “We’re doing the thing!”
The redhead’s eyes widened, and then nodded. That particular thing would give the monk an opening, for sure. The rest of Class One also got ready. Rael stabbed the air multiple times with his sword, and around the Malblin King, various sparking blue crystals came into being. Then, with a Chain Lightning in each hand, Aeliana fired them simultaneously, creating a supremely damaging cage of plasma that kept arcing back into the same target after bouncing off Rael’s crystals. Eight times the lightning struck, for an impressive amount of damage, but Rael wasn’t done.
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Before the spells dissipated, he used his own magic to give them another jump, this time, into his sword, at which point he combined the spells and added his own Lightning Bolt at an increased casting level. The three combined lightning blasts hammered the creature, and the sheer amount of electricity running through its nerves made raising its shield impossible, at least for a moment. That combo also brought the bastard down past half health. The rest of the class wasn’t idle though, for while Rael and Aeliana had used what could only be called a tag-team combo spell, the rest of their parties took full advantage of it too.
An arrow with magically enhanced force behind it slammed into the creature, right as Draug, Brammoth, and Vasari did the same thing, finally knocking it prone. The minotaur roared savagely as his axes repeatedly buried into its muscular body. “Aldaron!” Vasari called out, and their paladin was there, ready with a spell he’d been charging for a while now. Shining golden blades pierced the malblin’s limbs, pinning them down, and though the powerful monster tried resisting, it's dark power failed in the face of such powerful light.
Drake didn’t need an invitation, he was above the Malblin King in an instant, and then shot down, increasing his speed with airbending, as he attempted to land the Quivering Palm. The malblin’s eyes widened as it saw him, and then they bulged, as Drake struck his now solid abdominals covered in gaping axe wounds with a brutal palm. Once again, thanks to the debuffs and disadvantageous situation, the Malblin King failed to resist it despite his hearty constitution.
“Every hit will increase the damage! Unload on it!” Drake shouted, flying into the air again.
Hearing his words, Ceyrin unloaded a rain of arrows on the large demonic goblin. Each of the tanks struck it with advantaged strikes now that it was prone, for as many times as they could. Bram roared, enraging himself as he swung his dual axes even faster. Going for increased numbers of hits, every single spellcaster decided on the same attack, and a literal horde of Magic Missiles, about five per caster for a rough total of fifty, hammered the malblin with perfect accuracy, right in the center of his eight pack of demonic abdominals.
Drake also took advantage of its prone position, as from above he sent Ki infused air bursts into every single energy point on its body, for a total of one hundred and twenty six hits. Yet even with all of the hits stacking the growing internal damage from Quivering Palm, his eyes told him it wasn’t enough yet. As the smoke from the barrage of attacks cleared, Drake reached out to his draconic companion, and felt a powerful mind answer him. It both was, but was not Falkor, and it seemed becoming an intelligent dragon and presumably reaching level sixty had significantly altered his personality from lovable pupper, to wizened dragon. He was happy to sense Drake, but he also knew he would have to fight.
“Ryuuu…haaaa…” He started, changing up the name of the attack slightly, as he poured a large amount of magic into his focused Ki Blast. “Meeee…” The golden aura around him flared, shooting off of his body and into the air behind him, as a massive white scaled draconic form appeared above Drake Long. His eyes and brow burned gold, his underbelly’s scales were now black, like his claws, and his horns had grown into a majestic pair of antlers that still looked as solid as any other dragon’s horns, despite their shape. The monk raised his charging Ki attack from his waist to above his head, making it as large as he could for Falkor, who understood what he needed to do.
The dragon both spoke and roared as he shouted with his own baritone. “HAAAAA!” The Ki turned golden, enhanced by whatever power Falkor had awakened as a now significantly high level magical creature. And, thanks to his very nature, luck was automagically on their side.
Seeing the dragon appear had made the Malblin King’s eyes bulge in disbelief, but as the Ryuhameha Wave shot down towards him, the paladin’s binding light swords finally faded, and he raised his dark shield in his defense. That did little to stop the critically effective hit, but it did, irritatingly, lessen the total amount of damage. On the positive side, the shield was reduced to nothing, though the positives were quickly balanced by several bad things happening at once. Artificially improving one’s luck, it seemed, had a drawback.
First, the ground beneath the prone demonic goblin cracked, and caved in from the force of the Dragon Destruction Wave, but the creature only smirked as he disappeared into the darkness below the fortress, and Drake had a sneaking suspicion it had wanted to be pushed down there at some point. Then, right after that, Haste wore off, as did his Shout from the end of his firebombing, and the toll of firing such a potent combo attack effectively slowed Drake to a crawl. Thankfully, he managed to fight off the exhaustion building within him by focusing his Ki, but the boss wasn’t done. Now on the last quarter of his health, he was desperate, and ready to cheat, like every other fucking goblin.
A hand of literal darkness surged up from the sinkhole, and grabbed Drake, as the nascent Demon Lord’s voice rang through the area. “YOU! You die first!” Drake was too drained to fight it, and he only caught a flash of his friend’s faces as the hand rapidly brought him down into the darkness below. He’d only briefly seen the others, as it was, of course, Rose that he looked to first. He hated worrying her, but he’d made himself the obvious choice for retribution, and the most likely target for a classic boss move that focused on, and usually killed, a specific damage dealer.
Still lethargic from the loss of Haste, Drake slammed into the dark stone floor beneath the fortress, and groaned. He didn’t hear it though, for an entirely different, and again not entirely unexpected sound overpowered it. The chorus of dark chuckles from a horde of fucking goblins. The cowardly little shits had been hiding down here the entire time, it seemed. Their beady yellow eyes lit up around him, and his senses counted well over a hundred of the weaker, around level thirty and forty, variants, at least twenty hobgoblins, and two Goblin Champions. Then, of course, there was their leader, the one most visible in the gloom, thanks to the growing aura of pulsating red and black energy.
“Ho ho ho hoooo…my God greatly desires your death…Drake Long.” Drake saw the creature’s magic refill, but thankfully, his health did not. He was apparently reinforcing what health points he had still with a shield of some kind.
Slowly, activating his Draconic Perception, Drake managed to stand as the lethargy from Haste finally wore off. “I would know your name, Goblin…if shitspawn like you even have names…” He was very obviously buying time, and yet, none of his friends had jumped in after him. His ears vaguely heard arguing above, but he knew what they’d be saying. He was as good as dead, there were too many enemies down here, and the smart move now was to retreat, leave the Malblin King to heal, exit the Dungeon, call in properly high level adventurers, and then come back later, and maybe find either his corpse, or his tortured body.
“You will never know my name…it is wasted on one about to no longer exist in this world! Die!” The now much more articulate demonic goblin shouted, still grunting from the effort of attacking while his inner organs were being subtly pummeled by the chain reactions from Quivering Palm, the Malblin King’s single-mindedness overpowered the pain, and Drake tried to block the incoming flail, but the lethargy was still affecting him. His health had already recovered from his hard landing, but his magic would take longer. This rapid recovery was all that kept him from dying, as despite the quickly raised slab of earth he did manage to bring up, the black metal flail smashed through it like cardboard, sending him rolling towards the waiting goblins.
Immediately, the opportunistic fuckers were on him, stabbing him with their knives, and though the pain was immense, he saw one of the champions bring down its massive spiked club towards him, and he forced himself to roll. The club pulped the goblins around him, except for the one he’d rolled into, but Drake dispatched that one personally, as he grabbed its foul face and burned it off. The creature suffered horribly, but that only seemed to entertain the others around him.
Furious, the Malblin King roared, “He is MINE! He must be offered to Dagorath…steal my kill, and you will die for it!” Again the flail hummed through the air, but Drake was ready this time, and finally able to move again. He spun low under it, spiraling up into a stance he hadn’t used yet, as he hadn’t needed it. The Restoring Palm. Instead of attacking the Malblin King though, he backflipped instead into the horde of goblins. They were stupid, greedy, violent, but they’d just gotten a direct order not to kill him, which made them perfect shields.
Roaring in irritation, the corrupted demon goblin struck again with the flail, while Drake pummeled the trash mobs, as many as he could, within his Dragon’s Fangs reach. The multiple hits rapidly healed him, and helped clear his head, then, he backflipped and simultaneously spun through the air over the flail, as it took out a large swath of goblins, turning them to green paste. Drake came down on a hobgoblin, his foot cratering its skull, before two more punches in his three-hit mid air combo reduced two more goblins to goo, and then black smoke.
Drake whirled, turning both fists to stone and catching the greataxe wielded by one of the Goblin Champions that was attempting to split him in half. Its slobbering grin turned to a grunt of effort as Drake’s superior strength stat forced the blade back up, slowly, and into its own face, and then skull. The other champion roared and charged at him, but by that point, the business end of the flail had returned. It smashed through the top of its own champion with ease, and killed even more of the goblins.
They weren’t idle, or afraid of death, and though Drake dodged most of their opportunistic stabs, many did manage to hit him. He punched his way to full health again, at which point, the Malblin King tried something new. Like someone about to hock a loogie, he rumbled, and then spat multiple foul globs of glistening black goo onto the floor of the circular area he was fighting in. Then, he used some magic of his own, and the way his beady, demonic pupils dilated, Drake had a feeling monsters also knew about Haste. He smirked. An idiot goblin probably didn’t know, or care, about the side effects though.
Drake focused his Ki, unwilling to give up, and began glowing again, the only visible light in the darkness. He blinked, as he felt multiple sudden Buffs hit him all at once, and then realized that, despite his assumption, the parties had not abandoned him. Yet. The dead corpse of a hobgoblin fell from the hole above, and Drake nodded. They were probably not doing much better than he was. As he took a Patient Defense stance, and gestured for the empowered demon goblin to bring it, the smirking crimson behemoth vanished with blinding speed, but Drake sensed his foul power. He spun into a roundhouse kick that connected with and parried his muscled fist, then, the flail came around again, but Drake easily leapt over it. Even with Haste, physics limited how fast a weapon like that could go. Had he been using, say, an axe or sword, it would’ve been much harder to dodge.
The Malblin King brought it around again in a wide arc, and Drake ducked under it, then raised a timely stone pillar with his earthbending. It wasn’t just a rock though, it was a perfectly circular pole, thick enough to handle the demonic weapon’s chain. The Malblin King’s beady eyes widened in surprise as his flail came around again, missed Drake completely as the chain hooked on the pillar, and instead smashed its wielder in the face. By Drake’s count, he had to dodge six more times, and then, he could counter. Drake’s eyes widened, as he realized the flail had not only shattered the magic shield the monstrosity had created, but it had done enough damage to him to push him below his final quarter of health. At which point, a final transformation occurred, but this too, Drake had been expecting.
Another pair of arms sprouted from under the Malblin King’s other arms, his wings grew even larger, and twisted black spikes erupted along his back and from his shoulders. His disfigured facial features, ruined by the flail, became even more monstrous, and he grew even larger as the black smoke of his fallen minions surged into him.
image [https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/107dc055-197f-4c79-a8d4-bf5e3018e03b/dj6z16z-6b63f843-bd57-4ec5-b672-cf3eb502638d.jpg/v1/fill/w_894,h_894,q_70,strp/malblin_tyrant_by_pokefan1337_dj6z16z-pre.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9MTAyNCIsInBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzEwN2RjMDU1LTE5N2YtNGM3OS1hOGQ0LWJmNWUzMDE4ZTAzYlwvZGo2ejE2ei02YjYzZjg0My1iZDU3LTRlYzUtYjY3Mi1jZjNlYjUwMjYzOGQuanBnIiwid2lkdGgiOiI8PTEwMjQifV1dLCJhdWQiOlsidXJuOnNlcnZpY2U6aW1hZ2Uub3BlcmF0aW9ucyJdfQ.jy38GoI5Qe6Op5e1rQ0nhhr1om_TvcjlP2oAT4PGMK0]
The enraged Malblin Tyrant roared at him, as he summoned not two, but four giant black fucking demon swords, one in each hand, and for the first time, Drake’s courage faltered. He couldn’t fight this monstrosity alone. Warmth surged within him, and he heard both Falkor and Laurelin speak in perfect unison.
“You are never alone, Drake Long. When the time is right, you will know what to Shout.”
Drake nodded as he felt the knowledge enter his brain not from Laurelin, but from Falkor, and he focused, maintaining his defense. The Malblin Tyrant attacked in rapid succession, and Drake met each strike with one of his own, encasing his limbs in thick stone so they didn’t simply break. Even with his durability, he had a feeling this thing could manage to rip him apart if it got close enough. Then, as Haste ended and lethargy took over, the demonic beast lunged again with its malformed maw, trying to catch him off guard with an extra attack he wasn’t expecting. Instead, Drake backflipped away, and put his fist to his palm, as he focused.
His Ki flared, as he felt Falkor, and he Shouted, “I am thou…thou art I… Dovah Zii!”
Drake smirked, as he saw a draconic shaped surge of golden light descend from above, and he sensed Falkor’s soul merge with his, not unlike the feeling he’d had when they first manifested in this world. He felt Falkor’s wings settle onto his back, his horns landed atop his head, and white scales covered his arms, hands, neck, and body. It was like he was wearing the dragon like a cloak, or armor, and his smirk widened, as he realized just how close Quivering Palm was to, finally, being ready to activate.
For good measure, and dramatic flair as he wanted Class One to remember this as much as his own Class undoubtedly would, he activated his Fury of the First Dragon, and then vanished in a golden blur. A brutal Shoryuken to the jaw sent the Malblin Tyrant sailing up and out of the hole, and the following Dragon’s Fangs hammered the giant defenseless target, thanks to the lethargy, one hundred and twenty six times in total, in a flash of brutal punches and kicks. The final one sent the abomination into the ground again, crushing numerous goblins and hobgoblins under its gigantic body.
Drake hovered over his lethargic foe ominously, and snarled, “I’m a dragonman of my word…time to die, shitspawn.”
The Malblin Tyrant raised its grotesque head slowly, wincing as the inner organ damage finally seemed to be having an effect. “I…cannot…die…I am…a Demon Lord!”
Drake’s eyes narrowed, and he flew closer to the prone malblin’s face. “A Demon Lord? My ass…you’re nothing but another stinking…filthy…Goblin…” Drake’s Ki surged to life around his fused form again, and his eyes burned with Laurelin’s light as he said, “And I slay Goblins…” He inhaled rapidly, and Shouted, using both his own knowledge and Falkor’s, “FUS RO DA!”
The malblin’s head was utterly eradicated before the Unrelenting Force. Drake stomped on the ground, shielding the now convulsing body in multiple layers of stone on one side, the one closest to his allies, as it struggled to regenerate, and was simultaneously being ripped apart from the inside. “Everyone get back!” He shouted again, remembering this asshole’s final goodbye from Zemkarth. He flew into the air as more goblins surged from underground, and then activated his Quivering Palm. To his eyes, the Malblin Tyrant had, somehow, still possessed health points despite not having a head, but it was good to know that monsters empowered by their God could persist without vital organs.
The following explosion of flame and shadow surged through the base, and Drake saw their tanks and healers shielding everyone. For a heartbeat, silence reigned. The surviving goblins surging up to this level of the Dungeon presumably from the one below, stared in wide-eyed horror as their king’s headless corpse convulsed, glowing with an unnatural energy. Then, fire and shadow erupted in a blinding wave. The last thing they saw was destruction, as they died, permanently, in the hard fiery evidence of their loss, and the adventurer’s victory.
Drake let the fusion with Falkor, which was burning through his magic, fade. He got his first proper look at his draconic friend, and his eyes went wide. He was, essentially, just a bigger dragon now, but he was also majestic. His golden horns had grown to be more like a stag’s for some reason, but it worked. His fangs were longer, his wingspan wider, but his golden eyes still shined with that same happy energy they’d had on Earth. He was still Falkor, and he was still happy to see his friend. Drake chuckled, and scratched the leathery skin beneath his powerful jaws. “Heyyy buddy. Thanks for saving my ass. That…was fucking awesome. I didn’t know we could fuse…and when did you learn Dragon Shouts?”
Falkor rumbled a chuckle, very much enjoying the scritches. “I am a Dragon now, Drake. Goddess Laurelin gave me Unrelenting Force and Fire Breath, as well as knowledge of Zii, of Soul. Apparently, there will be what you would call ‘Word Walls’ appearing in Dungeons from now on. I will tell you if I sense any, but for now…my knowledge is yours.” Drake’s eyes widened, as energy from his partner surged into him. His knowledge of Yol expanded rapidly, and Skyrim’s most iconic shout now also had a place in his head.
Slowly, they descended down to the waiting classes of students, and in his exhausted state, Drake didn’t notice there were two new figures among them, hanging back. Immediately after landing, while everyone else’s eyes were warily on the smiling Falkor, Rose ran up to him with zero hesitation, hugging him with tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…we left you…we just left you down there…”
“Rose…I’m okay. He had my number from the start of this fight. I was always going to get pulled in alone…but I managed to stay alive…and all of your Buffs helped too.” He said, wiping her eyes, and addressing Garret, Lyria, Caelum, and Vincent as they came over next. “You had your own problems up here…though…I will say, the next time some giant fucking third phase Boss drags me into a death hole, having someone jump in to help would be nice. If there wasn’t a horde of weak Goblin trash down there to punch-heal off of, I would’ve died quite fast.”
“We wanted to jump in, but…” Garret started to rumble, but a new, masculine, and entirely unrecognized voice cut him off.
“We prevented them from joining you, Drake Long.” He felt Rose flinch, and grip him tighter, as the voice’s owner came into view. Platinum blonde hair, one gold eye, one silver, a High Elf, a sorcerer, then Drake saw his level, one hundred and ninety, and his eyes widened in disbelief. He blinked, but he wasn’t seeing incorrectly, and a moment later, a fully grown High Elven woman with emerald eyes he was very familiar with stepped up next to him. She was at one hundred and fifty, and a sage like Rose. He put two and two together, and nodded in understanding.
“Lord and Lady Valcrest, I presume.” He nodded. “You put Rose’s safety first, I understand…I was referring more to one of the tanks…I could’ve really used a damage sponge, but it seems they were needed up here.”
The sorcerer spoke again then, “It was a good chance to see your abilities for myself. You were tested against the merest fraction of Dagorath’s power…power that would’ve likely killed anyone else here, and you managed to surpass your limits, and survive.” He sighed, heavily. “I have to admit…I am impressed. And as such…I will not interfere with you courting my beloved daughter.” His voice entered Drake’s head then, as he continued, “But mark my words, Drake Long…if you break her heart…I will break you.”
He answered in kind. “She’s as precious to me as she is to you…perhaps even more so, in some ways…I’ll do everything I can to make her happy.”
Despite his initial assumptions, Vaelithar Valcrest considered that, to be the correct answer to his words in this situation. He’d spent many centuries evaluating men, and could tell when they were lying. But this one, young, battered, exhausted, but still alive, was not lying to him. A slight smile cracked his face. As usual, his wife had been correct. Their Rose had chosen well. “Now then…I believe our monitoring duties have concluded…and both my wife and I have things to attend to. Enjoy your loot, Adventurers. It was well-earned.”
Rael spoke up then, for all of them, as everyone present, except Drake and Rose, bowed their heads to him. “We are deeply grateful for your assistance, Archsorcerer!” The elderly elf, king in all but name, chuckled, and then Teleported himself and his wife away from the Dungeon. They’d have to leave manually, like everyone else, and usually Teleporting inside of one drained too much mana, but for the strongest sorcerer in Primus, it was quite easy.
“Now then…” Drake said loudly, shaking them from the awe of seeing one of the members of the Triarchy jumping in on their Dungeon run to keep their daughter from jumping into certain death after her boyfriend, “I believe it’s time for some fucking loot!” They all cheered, but Class Seven was clearly louder.
Vincent spoke next. “First things first, Drake…I know what you’re like, and that you’ve already forgiven us for just…leaving you to death or torture…but this is, at its core, an egregious breach of the Adventurer’s Code. We don’t leave people behind…but that’s exactly what we would’ve done had Rose not been adamant about joining you, along with the rest of your Party. Thus…I think it should be you who distributes the drops. You’re one of our leaders anyways, and did, by every metric, the most damage here. You also got the Boss kill. I trust that you’ll hand it all out appropriately.”
Drake sighed, and then nodded. This was a duty of a party leader, after all. He smiled down at Rose as she hit him with a stamina refreshing spell. “I’ll make sure everyone, in both classes, gets something good. It might take a while to sort through though, so…clear a temporary camp, and try to get some rest.”
Thus as the classes walked off to set up a spot to recuperate, Drake began with the pile of stuff that the Malblin Tyrant had left behind with its remains. For himself, and the Guild, he took the two horns from its head. They were classed as Legendary materials, but maybe after he punched through his ore stockpile, they’d be usable. Next, was a massive chunk of what his eyes claimed was orichalcum, an ore typically used by the greatest smiths to make Draconic Tier Adventurer items. Apparently, this had been the monstrosity’s heart. He looked up as Falkor joined him with a heavy landing. “The others fear me…and I can purify these materials.” Golden light washed over the remnants of the Malblin Tyrant, cleansing it completely of Dagorath’s lingering taint.
It had also left behind a black metal crown that Drake vaguely recalled seeing on its head. He’d been more focused on the giant flail. It had some abilities, but he had a feeling he could make it suit Rose with some reforging. The final piece of loot was a massive pair of black metal shackles. Enough for three pairs of gauntlets, at least. He carried them over to Vincent, and spoke loudly. “Two things! Most of the Malblin’s loot needs reforging, which I’ll probably be able to do. I’m thinking there’s enough metal on the shackles for every tank to have some gauntlets, so write down what enchantments or Buffs you already have and want to keep on them, and I’ll try forging them later. Secondly…be nice to Falkor, guys. He’s a good bo- err, Dragon,” He said, catching himself, but those who remembered he’d once been a dog smirked at his words. “I’m sure you’ll like him if you just…hey, wait, where’d he go?
The paladin, Aldaron, pointed at the giant purplish-black chest, which Falkor was now sniffing. “He’s going to steal our loot! I knew you were full of it, everyone knows Dragons are greedy and evil!” A disappointing number of them stood rapidly, and readied their weapons in response to his words and the supposedly threatened loot, but Drake slid in front of them, arms wide. “Did you not see his brow!? He’s good! I know a good Dragon is a new concept for you guys, but you need to not threaten him. You won’t like what happens. Just…let him do his thing.” Drake said, as he turned, saw Falkor glowing, and smirked. “He’s a Luck Dragon, after all…”
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The classes made an awed noise, as they watched Falkor, and his golden light warped and enveloped the chest. When it faded, the chest was no longer purple and ominous, but orange and ornate, covered in gold trim. Vincent’s eyes bulged. “He…he just made it a Legendary chest!? Drake…I love your Dragon!” The rest of the teenagers cheered, as a much more slumpy Falkor walked back to them.
“I…require rest.” He rumbled. And there were numerous chuckles. “You Heroes will have need of these items…for the challenges to come. Wield them well. Please. There should be at least…one for each of you.” Falkor gave a tired sigh, and placed his toothy jaws on his paws.
Drake patted his head. “Thanks, bud. I’ll make sure everyone gets what they need. Can someone feed him?” He asked, looking around. A smile broke his worried expression as Rose stepped forward, radiant and smiling.
“I’ve been dying to meet the brave soul who accompanied you here. I’ll take care of him.” Falkor thrummed happily as she started petting him, his large draconic tail doing a far too canine-like wiggle of happiness. Draug laid beside him as well, and the two seemed to be speaking to each other on a level their partners couldn’t comprehend.
Both classes followed Drake this time, too eager to wait, and Drake said, “It’d be fitting to have the first hit and the last handing out the loot, I think. Varian, care to give me a hand? The noble knight nodded, and Drake opened the chest, eyes widening as he looked at the contents. “Holy shit…” Not only were there a solid twenty four pieces of loot, they were sitting atop a pile of platinum coins. Due to Arcadian scholars and magi understanding the inherent value and usefulness of platinum as a metal, they were worth a hundred gold coins each. Fifty silver made a gold piece, and fifty copper could be exchanged for a single silver.
He’d researched the Arcadian wealth gap, as that would be an integral part of breaking the magical stranglehold on greater Arcadian society, and the disparity in wealth, the gap between the ‘castes’ such as they were, made the wealth gaps on Earth look like small fissures compared to the Grand Canyon. This gulf also helped reinforce the non-wealthy non-adventurers to be content with their lot in life, as at the very least, Arcadian society didn’t delude them into thinking they’d one day become part of the elite with hard work and elbow grease. It was more of a ‘maybe you’ll be luckier in your next life’ kind of attitude, and it made Drake a bit nauseous. It was easy to forget, but all of those around him, people he’d come to call friends if not allies, were sitting at the top of a very immoral mountain because of where they’d been born.
“A-alright…” Drake started, “Let’s uhh…let’s just go in order, I guess.” He grabbed a miniaturized light blue runic metal sword with an ornate golden lion hilt. The eyes blazed with a familiar orange light, and the weapon grew to standard longsword length as he withdrew it and handed it to Varian. The knight eagerly ditched his lower tier weapon, and put the new one on beside his top tier shield. “If uhh, if you guys don’t want to sell your old stuff, I’ll take it off your hands. See that it goes to someone who can make good use of it. Varian handed him his sword, but judging by the looks in the majority of the other’s eyes, they would not be as charitable.
The distribution continued. Rael received something called an Aetherion Crystal for the base of his sword, one that would apparently allow him to strike with varied elemental magic as easily as Drake could. They agreed to a sparring duel later, at the Academy, and Rael departed, saying, “Once you get your item, break into teams and start looting the fortress! Be on alert for remnants of Goblins though, make no mistake, those bastards are hoping we wander off alone. If you get into trouble, make noise.” The last member of Class One’s first party, Elara, received a trinket that glowed with inner flame, and would apparently allow her to convert natural sources of heat into more mana. Drake quickly had her test it on flames made with his firebending, and it worked successfully. It was good, knowing that if they ever teamed up again, he could keep at least one of their healers supplied with mana pretty much indefinitely.
Ceyrin received a magic horn that would apparently call the beast version of his ancestors, namely giant bald eagles, to swarm and attack his target of choice, disappearing once it died. It had a fairly low cooldown though, and it gave him the passive ability to understand animal speech. He immediately ran over to Draug to try it out, and the dire wolf seemed very happy that they could finally speak as equals, with full comprehension. Aldaron, the next Class One tank in their second party, received a circular piece of metal that, when equipped, moved behind his head and shone like the sun. Apparently, its effects weren’t that great, its main utility being that it could be combined with any headwear. It boosted his healing abilities and his magic pool, but he didn’t seem too thrilled by it. Drake had a feeling his insulting Falkor right before the dragon did his thing, had resulted in a lesser reward, though perhaps not entirely on purpose, it hinted at just how potent Falkor’s luck could be.
The next item, a snake-shaped amulet, went to the snakekin shaman that acted as one of their healers. It essentially turned her into a venombender, allowed her to heal her own health from poisons not her own, and allowed her to cast a potent poisoning aura on an ally that would do poison damage even to beings that resisted it. Next were the catgirl twins. The rogue got a cloak that boosted her stealth skills, and made Stealth usable in combat, while the feral druid received a powerful totem that directly enhanced her shapeshifting, allowing her to turn into bigger, stronger, and more deadly versions of her usual forms. Vasari got a belt that turned magical attacks sent his way into energy that would make his next attack as damaging as any damage focused class, which he seemed quite happy with. He bobbed his head in thanks, and slowly walked away to await the rest of his party, and begin looting the fortress. Veldra’s item was unique to her race, and it melded into her arm, apparently without pain. It made her already absurd healing runes able to affect multiple targets, and would remove the fatigue she felt once all of her runes were on cooldown, allowing her to stay useful and conscious during a fight.
Their redheaded wizard got a powerful stave that allowed her to recast multiple spells per day, even the absurdly powerful ones, which with her repertoire, made her even more of a threat. Brammoth, the minotaur, got a pair of ‘boots’ that were really more like metal prison leg bindings, except that they did the opposite of restricting his movement. The runes engraved into the light blue runic material would make him faster, allowing his charging attacks to be even more deadly, and helping his titanic frame get where he needed to be to deal the most damage even quicker.
Next, was Class Seven’s items, and Drake identified Rose’s quickly. A brilliantly shining gold amulet that would let her healing abilities remove things like curses, disease, and fear effects passively. Her spells were also greatly increased in potency, putting her on par with the likes of Veldra in terms of how much health she could restore. It could, when activated by her health lowering, also generate an impenetrable but temporary shield that would give her a chance to heal herself, and hopefully regain her momentum long enough for her party to aid her. Drake pocketed it, approving of Falkor’s choice for her. It was a bit too in line with what her parents undoubtedly wanted for her, and his dragon had likely heard and seen them, while Drake was busy in the death pit. Garret’s item was a weapon unique to lion men, or other beastkin with claws. It made his basic attacks do lightning damage, fit over his claws, a weapon he was most naturally gifted with, and, he could still technically use a sword with them on. He seemed pleased to essentially be able to have two weapons. It was also very good at drawing attention from monsters.
Next up was Tala, who got a pair of what Drake mentally referred to as ‘winged boots on steroids’. Not only did they let her fly indefinitely, jump even further than normal, and match her healing robes, they greatly extended the duration of her protection spells, to the point that she could now essentially keep anyone she wanted to shielded basically forever, so long as she kept casting the spell. Her other items naturally regenerated her magic too, like Drake’s amulet, so she was very pleased that she could now give ‘squishy Sethis’ an eternal shield barrier that would go far in keeping him alive. Sethis, as it happened, was next. His item was a greatsword, though as Drake took it out, it grew so large and heavy that even he struggled to lift it. The Abyssal Edge, as it was apparently called, was essentially just a sharp slab of dark metal that could turn his attacks into heals, and once per encounter, shield him from magic damage. Sethis struggled to lift it, but Drake had a feeling that with time and practice, he’d be able to wield the massive weapon to great effect.
Vincent received a cloak, the same color as his current one but a bit more ornate, that had a complicated enchantment on it. From what Drake quickly scanned through, he could absorb magical spells, and redirect that energy as he saw fit, either into himself, allies, or into protective barriers for whoever he decided needed one. There was something about enhancing attacks too, but Drake let the genius figure out his overly complicated item on his own. Nyara got a sword that could actually be used in melee without breaking, and turned her basic attacks into sharp slashes of wind. She could also use it to boost her speed, or an ally’s. The last of their tanks, but by no means least, Bjorn received a bear-shaped amulet that just naturally increased how hard he could rage, and enhanced his roars to cause fear, or draw mass amounts of focus to him from nearby enemies. It also greatly boosted his stamina.
For Caelum, Drake found an item that would probably help him survive his trials to come. It was a ring that provided similar health, magic, and stat boosts to Drake’s amulet, and it also had the ability to cleanse tainted water, convert water into health that wasn’t his own, and it let him see in pitch blackness. For Leif, Drake had what seemed like a single shuriken, but not only could it multiply itself up to a hundred times, the original always returned to the thrower’s hand. “I was thinking of turning the Malblin horns into daggers for you, too.” Drake said to the fox teen. “They’d probably be pretty good.”
“Don’t bother.” Leif snarled. “Like I’d want something forged by someone who punches metal. Ridiculous. I’ll be just fine with this, and my daggers.” He walked off then, feeling smug, and Drake just shrugged. The horns had a natural effect that drained health and magic from whoever they stabbed, but Drake could definitely use them himself. Facing down the malblin had made it clear that his Dragon’s Fangs, while powerful, would be greatly boosted by something actually sharp. At a certain point, he guessed jabbing enemy magic centers with Ki would stop being as effective, and if they resisted that for whatever reason, actually stabbing them over a hundred times would also be effective, probably. Zara received a staff that let her turn every spell she had into an area of effect, or single/multi-target. It also greatly increased her range, and gave her a Buff that thoroughly raised her magical attack power for an entire hour.
As Drake started counting out the money, he found a final item, and guessed rightly that Falkor had included one for him, too. It was a ring, easily lost among the pile of awesome treasure, called the Ring of Draconic Friendship. It allowed him to summon a bonded companion to his side anywhere, at any time, greatly enhanced abilities used in conjunction with said companion, and increased his damage against any monster infused with Dagorath’s power, which was technically all of them, otherwise they would not have been classed as monsters. He slipped it on, and to his surprise, it faded from sight. He smirked as doing so had made Falkor look over, he waved at his partner, who was getting some stew from Rose. He found he could sense the dragon’s emotions much clearer now, and from further away. Their next combo moves promised to be quite powerful indeed.
Very much wanting to join his girl and his friend, he counted the money quickly, and his eyes bulged at the final total. Five hundred and fifty thousand, in gold. Most of it was platinum, too. That was about twenty two thousand and nine hundred for each of them, and he made it an even twenty two thousand and five hundred for each of them instead, as they had abandoned him in the death pit. That meant about ninety nine hundred more for his total, which for soloing a final phase demon goblin, he felt was fair. It was also just over a year of tuition for him, and when he deducted his remaining years of schooling, plus textbooks, that ‘bonus’ would likely cover it all. Assuming prices didn’t skyrocket. That left him, assuming his math was right, with roughly five hundred gold free for his smithing and other shenanigans.
It was a pittance probably, to his allies, but monetarily, it put him in the upper middle caste above the majority of Arcadia’s populace, and highlighted just how lucky adventurers were. He set the rest into twenty three piles, and levitated them over to their camp with his metalbending. As each of them returned, he made sure everyone got their share.
Rose smirked at him as he sat down beside her, and Falkor, who brought his head into Drake’s lap for more pets and attention. The poor boi had gone a while without any from his favorite person, and Drake made up for lost time. “So what are you doing for the rest of the weekend? Anything fun planned?”
Drake blinked at the sense of deja vu from that particular question. The last time he’d heard it felt like a lifetime ago, in a different world, as a different person. He smiled at her, and Falkor, and the absurdity of their surroundings. A gorgeous elf princess and his favorite doggo-turned-dragon, sitting in an idyllic landscape marked by a thoroughly fucked up goblin fortress, in an magic underground Dungeon, on a planet ruled by warring Gods.
It was amazing how much had changed in a week. “I was planning on taking this gorgeous High Elf girl I know somewhere private…wine her, dine her, y’know, the usual.” He winked, projecting confidence as Rose’s cheeks darkened to match her namesake. “And once she’s…satisfied, I have some smithing to do. But aside from that…” He chuckled. “Sleep. I’m definitely going to be getting a lot of sleep. I have a feeling it’s going to be another long week.”