image [https://cdn.midjourney.com/07a0c520-190d-4148-bd2a-5f9c0b3da4a9/0_2.png]
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New Reality: 31 August 1525, inside the Dungeon
It took Ardent two seconds to realize they were on a different ship. This one was moving, rolling with the wind and the waves. Every detail, from the smell to the colors, and the sounds, confirmed his idea. This ship also had a crew, there were voices above, sailors, and Ardent didn't need the translator to understand the words. It was Turkish.
"So, that gal, Huppi, is she your girlfriend or something?" Ardent said the stupidest thing possible. He intended to deliver the news to Donnie, but his attention had erred, and his subconsciousness took over.
"She's my mother-in-law," Donatello protested with indignation, waving his hands. I'm married to her two daughters. That's the tribe's custom," he rushed to add.
"Mazeltov!" Ardent slapped Donnie's shoulder. "So that's why she was all eyes and ears while we talked."
"She's very nosy," the Italian confessed, lowering his eyes.
"Wait to meet Popa… Never mind. The ship has changed, sit tight and let me investigate."
Ardent started his inspection looking around. They were in a storage room, for tools and weapons. Crates with arrows, bundles of swords, a few muskets, and the usual ropes and hooks used in boarding. To his great satisfaction, the door was unlocked.
Entering Stealth and Silence, he went outside. The rest of the deck was for storing merchandise, with racks made for barrels of wine or oil, but all empty. At the opposite end was a cage, with a thin and emaciated young man inside, chained to a ring stuck in the floor.
"Martinko!" Ardent exclaimed.
"Who's there?" the youngster jerked, looking around.
"It's me, kid. Your brother-in-law." Saying to someone else kid was… fulfilling, it was a reward per se. Too many times he was called that, now it was his turn. While jubilating over his petty satisfaction, Ardent exited Stealth.
"Ardent? What are you doing here?"
"Actually… no idea… I hope to get back to the previous level… Where are we?" Ardent looked around.
"This is the Redbeard's Scorn, Barbarossa's admiral ship. And a dungeon at the same time."
"Yeah, but I thought we cleared the ship before… Oh… wait a sec." Ardent returned to the storage room and beckoned Donatello. Hesitantly, the Italian followed, examining the surroundings. "Heal him or something, he looks bad," the Vlach asked.
"A sec, to do my diagnostics… There's nothing to heal, he's just malnourished and dehydrated."
"Here," Ardent summoned Meanwood, who had the common sense to stay silent, and after extracting a flask of water from the monster's spatial storage, he offered it to Martinko.
The younger man drank it all with evident thirst. "Thank you… The bastards keep me barely alive…"
"I have some biscuits too… What do you know? I have better. Cake from the French Royal Party. As fresh as the day I stored it… fourteenth of July, if I recall well. Want some, Donnie? I helped myself with a whole tray."
"Why not," the Healer shrugged, forwarding a hand. "You took plates and the spoons too?"
"No, those came with the trunk. Meanwood is like a boy scout, always prepared."
"It'sh good," Martinko mumbled, eating in a hurry.
"Can I have a piece of cake Master?" Meanwood begged, its eyes bulging on top of their stalks.
"Sure, help yourself. So, kid, can you enlighten us on what happens here?" Ardent asked after the youngster gulped the last bit of cake.
"Thanks," Martinko said after swallowing the last bite of his piece of cake. "You've cleared the previous floor, right?"
"Err… not sure. I killed the boss, but no notification came. You think it was a glitch?"
"If you killed the boss, the floor was cleared and the portal set to take you to the next level, the last Boss's Lair."
"I see… Question: How come you're a prisoner? Aren't you super powerful and stuff?"
The young man avoided his looks. Meanwhile, Meanwood, who had profited and eaten the remaining cake, cut the bars of the cage and the chains with his tongue, freeing the captive.
"I hate violence, OK?" Martinko blurted. "Because I… resented my father, and wanted to be nothing like him. And I was taken by surprise. His Highness, Sultan Suleiman, sent me to Hayredinn Barbarossa, the—"
"Pirate?" Ardent said.
"—Bey of Algiers, with a message," Martinko growled. "We got wind of a plot. The Spaniard—"
"That means Charles of Spain," Ardent explained to Donatello.
"I might be over a hundred, but I'm not senile," the Italian retorted.
"Guys, please!" Martinko clapped his hands to demand attention, albeit keeping the noise low. "All started when some idiot brought together the chiefs and wizards of the Mayans, Aztecs, and Incas, to join in an alliance against Spain."
"It was not against Spain," Donatello protested. "It was supposed to be a multicultural and multiethnic new country."
"The stupidest idea ever," Martinko continued, staring into Donatello's eyes."They're a bunch of evil murderers, killing and exploiting the commoners."
"I think he figured it out it was you, Donnie," Ardent stated.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
"But you didn't account for Charles' political acumen," Martinko continued, frowning at the interruption. "He convinced them to ally with him, instead of fighting, and conquer the Mediterranean and North Africa together.
"I was sent to appoint Barbarossa admiral and help him gather a fleet to counter Charles' plans. And then…" the youngster paused and sighed. "Hayredinn betrayed Suleiman and switched sides. He took me prisoner to use me as a bargaining chip against my father."
"I can see why… Martin has quite a reputation," Ardent nodded.
"It turned out there was no enemy fleet at all, but this ship and the dungeon it contains. And now, all Europe is in danger of falling to Charles and his minions," Martinko concluded.
"You're very well informed for a prisoner," Donatello said. "How do you know all this?"
"You'll find for yourselves… any moment now…" Putting his index over his lips, the Saint signaled them to keep silent.
The deck above started to creak and bend as heavy steps approached and stopped above them, making dust and sand fall over their heads through the spaces between the planks. Then, a sinister hoarse voice yelled:
"Arr, gather 'round and listen close, you scallywags, for I've got a tale to chill yer bones! 'I, Hayreddin Barbarossa, not only succeeded in hiding a jungle in the belly of my ship but also brought a devilish sorcerer to Rome's doorstep, unbeknownst to our enemies. Aye, he snuck into the very catacombs where the dead lie silent, ready to heed his call. He'll raise an army of half a million skeletons, ready to do me bidding! So mark me words, ye scurvy dogs, for with me necromancer at me side, none shall stand in the way of me conquest!
"I can't wait to reveal in the screams of terror that'll echo through the streets of Rome as the dead will walk once more, their rattling bones a symphony of doom! For I am the true master of terror, and none shall defy me! Bwa ha ha ha!"
"Huzza for the captain," a dissonant chorus replied, mostly unenthusiastical.
The opened mouths of Ardent and Donatello could have swallowed a fly swarm in seconds. Rotating his index near his temple, the Italian exclaimed: "He's mad…"
"My guess is he used too much Wild Magic and lost his marbles," Martinko nodded. "He tells everyone his plans, precisely at noon."
"Hm… Can we go off the ship without a fight?" Ardent asked.
"There's a forcefield around, and he controls it. He allowed me in, for instance, but later, I saw it destroying a couple of carracks trying to attack us," Martinko pointed to a small porthole adjacent to his cage.
"Then hard way it is. We'll take out Barbarossa. Meanwood, go upstairs and inspect the situation," Ardent ordered.
"I have a better solution, master," the Mimic gloated. Extending both his eyestalks upward, it searched for a larger crack in the planks and passed its sight organs through it. "Hm… about a hundred pirates… and a large guy… he just drank a small barrel of wine by himself…"
"Let me see…" Taking control of the Mimic, Ardent took in the view from the monster's eyes. It was a disorienting sight, as Meanwood was looking in two directions at the same time. "Fuck… that guy's about Martin's size… it'll be a tough fight…" Retreating from the link, he shook his head. "OK, here's the play. I and Donnie go up. I fight the Boss, and Donnie heals me. Meanwood, stay on top of the stairs and take care of anyone who'd attack us from behind… If things go south, I release Dragon. You, kid, stay down here… Can you put a spell on the boss like you did with your father?"
"He's not a magician," Donnie said. "I don't see any Mana around him."
"I don't use Mana, I use Karma," Martinko said. "It doesn't register on Mana user senses. I'll try."
"On my signal."
Going up the stairs, Ardent pushed the hatch, opening it an inch. He liked what he saw. The crew was lazing around, disorganized, and Barbarossa had just started a new barrel, this time of rum. He gave a thump up and a nod to Martinko, who started reciting in a low voice:
"Whispers of change stir in his soul, A longing for peace and self-control. No more the grog, the drunken haze, Barbarossa is now in a different phase."
Barbarossa let out a dreadful howl, like a banshee's. "Who's the son of a whore who replaced the rum with water?" Extracting a whip from his belt, the pirate attacked his crew, who started to scream and run away from the punishment, some jumping overboard. This was even better than Ardent's best hopes.
"Stay back and heal me and the Mimic!" he said to Donnie, pushed the hatch all the way, and stepped on the upper deck. Ardent was all about behaving like a gentleman, but only for the ladies. Meantongue plunged into the pirate's back three times, searching for the lungs and the heart.
Roaring like a hurt lion, the pirate turned toward his foe, lashing his own whip. At the last second, though, he diverted the hit toward Donatello. Despite raising a forcefield, the defense was obliterated.
"Fuck, he just took out a quarter of my Mana," Donnie yelled. "Why does everyone go for the healer first?"
Forwarding his left hand toward the pirate, Ardent unleashed a flurry of electric arcs, like he'd seen in the movies. They did the job, zapping and stunning Barbarossa for a second. Enough time to thrust Meantongue forward, coating it in a plasma electric arc coating, the kind used on the future welding machines. It cut clean through Barbarossa's neck, beheading him.
"One asshole less!" Ardent cheered.
The head rolled on the deck, and the rest of the body continued walking forward, like a headless chicken, its hands trashing around aimlessly. A funny sight, in Ardent's opinion.
"Gotcha!" The shout had come from the bodiless head. It grinned with bloodied teeth.
"What the fuck?" the youngster gasped, and it was already a hesitation too many. The pirate's body raised a hand toward its back and unsheathed a cutlass with ungainly speed, the gesture made easier by the absence of the head. An oblique downward swipe cut Donnie in two unequal sides that slid upon each other and hit the deck with a sick sound, before disintegrating into specks of light.
A reverse swipe met Ardent's parry, went through Meantongue, and hit him in the shoulder, only a last-moment sidestep saving his life. Nevertheless, his energy shield was destroyed, and the blade stopped in his bones, almost cleaving his arm off. The young man Shadow Stepped back, grinding his teeth, as the gesture only worsened his wound.
Combat Heal, he thought. The bleeding stopped, but the pain and the wound remained, only a third of it closing on itself. He repeated it, despite the huge cost in Mana, reducing his pool to under a tenth.
Warning: The System estimates that a local energy interference affects rezzes and reduces the amount of healing performed by you to half, quadrupling the costs. Possible cause: the Boss had entered its Second Phase. You have a minute to slay the Boss before Donatello's Rezz becomes impossible.
Holding his shoulder with his left hand, Ardent moved around as fast as he could, barely avoiding the wide-cutlass swings. For a moment, he considered activating his Stealth but decided against it, considering his low Mana Pool.
Yet, he had another tool and weapon that cost no Mana. Dragon erupted out of storage, changing into his Dragonling form on the way. "Keep the body occupied," Ardent yelled.
"Where are you, scurvy vermin?" the head screamed, rolling his eyes to follow Ardent, hidden from his sight by the Dragonling. Taking out a revolver with his left hand and kneeling, Ardent shot all six bullets into Barbarossa's forehead, only to see his bullets flattening on the Boss's skin, and pushing away the skull like a bowling ball. "HAHAHA, sucker. I'm immune to all forms of physical or magical damage in my second phase," the pirate's upper part smirked.
That looked true, as the Dragonling was spewing fire over the body, also clawing at it, to no avail. The pirate's larger part somersaulted, and landed on Dragon's back, grappling the steed's neck in a double Nelson, choking it. Despite Dragon's attempt to roll over, it hung on, its biceps and the veins on the arms swelling, doubling in size.
"Then defeating you must be a puzzle, right?" Ardent sneered. Struggling against the pain, he ran and kicked the pirate's chin with the tip of his boot. Arching over the railing, his eyes bulging in disbelief, Barbarossa's head fell into the sea, and sank like a rock.
Seconds later, the pirate's arms jerked, letting go of the Dragonling, and grasping at its neck, which was spewing water like a fountain. Dragon shook his back, throwing the body away. It took a while, but finally, it didn't move anymore.
You have slain this floor's boss, Hayredinn Barbarossa, equivalent in System Scale of a level 100 Legendary Dungeon Master (Pirate thematic). You have leveled x 5. You are now level 51. Attribute points for reaching level 50 were distributed accordingly. You have gained 5 Fate Points. A Wild Dungeon Core of Equivalent Rank S has been teleported to your… Error! No Core storage was detected in the vicinity. The Dungeon Core has been transported into the next available spatial storage: Mimic.