Chapter 44: Greatest Fear
TRISTAN
The casket was barely wide enough for Tristan’s shoulders, though thankfully it was long enough that he didn’t have to bend his knees to fit fully into it. The moment he laid down fully on the silky cushions, the lid began to creak closed.
It moved slowly, with hinges that clearly had never known a drop of oil in their lives. As the lid blocked out more and more of the light, Tristan could feel his heartbeat start to race. He fought against all of his instincts that begged him to get out before the lid fully closed. But He had read the quest, and he knew what he had to do.
Whatever comes next will be my greatest fear.
Though in that moment he realized how close “small, confining spaces” might actually be to taking that title anyway.
The lid closed at last, which at least meant the squeaking hinges were finally silent. Unfortunately, he’d traded that annoyance for absolute blackness. His breathing echoed off the wooden walls around him, no matter how much he tried to quiet it. Not that it mattered, as his heartbeat quickly overtook the sound.
I just have to stay in here for a minute, he told himself. I can do this for one minute. It’s just 60 seconds.
But try as he might, he could not find even the slightest calm, not with the wooden walls pressed so tightly against him. Not with the lid right in front of his face. Especially not when the scariest doubt of all crept into his mind: What if the lid won’t open?
His heart was pounding so fast he’d long since lost count of its panicked thumps. How long had he been inside the casket? Part of him needed to get out right away, but another part wondered if it had been long enough yet. A minute felt like a very long time when you needed it to pass.
He tried to settle back into the cushions and think of something else--anything else--and at last his mind went to his hammer, and his forge. He imagined creating something new again, an item that might help him in this awful situation. Maybe a visor or something that would help him see in the dark.
A forever later, bright greenish light began to pour around the edges of the lid, bathing his entire world in its eerie hue.
Thank the gods!
Tristan took one final, long exhale to try and prepare for whatever might be awaiting him, and then he pushed against the lid. He also might have pushed a little too hard, as rather than lifting gently, it flew open, hinges screaming, until the wood slammed against the side of the casket and broke.
The shattering sound only served to punctuate the awful sight before Tristan’s eyes.
The tent was gone. In its place was something he could never forget. Its gooey, imbalanced look. The way its globular, glowing green form stretched toward the sky where it towered over him. The familiar reeking smell that was death and decay and worse all in one. It was locked in his memory, the exact same as it had been when it had taunted him to come back and fight after he and Aaric had fled.
The Progenitor Ooze.
A part of Tristan kept repeating, This isn’t real. This isn’t real! This is just the dungeon miniboss! But it was difficult to convince his eyes when they were now staring at something that looked exactly like what he now knew was his greatest fear. It looked just like his darkest nightmares brought to life. Maybe it was.
But also in that moment, there was a shift within him. Tristan’s fear found itself met unexpectedly by a mix of other emotions that quickly overwhelmed it. Determination, anger, and a thirst for vengeance surged within him, as he pushed himself out of the casket. His body straightened as he set his sights on the monstrosity before him. He also felt a new heat radiating up his arm, all the way from where his hand was squeezing the [Oozebane Greatsword] with white-knuckled intensity.
[Oozebane] While wielding this sword, deal increased damage to oozes and reduce damage taken from oozes by 25%.
This time, in this fight, he was ready. This time, he was going to show the Ooze what Tristan Hammerson could do with proper preparation. Tristan’s lips formed a grim smile. Then he raised his sword and charged straight toward his greatest fear.
The first thing Tristan noticed was how much slower this ooze seemed compared to the one they’d faced in Sharing Cross. Granted, he was now 3 levels higher than he’d been, and he had trained extensively with Jamal on improving his speed and reactions, but after only a couple attacks, Tristan could tell that this miniboss was only a pale imitation of his true nightmare. Like the original, it launched sharp tendrils that were more like gooey harpoons toward Tristan. None of them were close to quick enough to ever touch Tristan though. With only a single sidestep or two, he could get completely clear of every attack. Often it didn’t even take that much effort; he was so much faster now that most of the projectiles ended up landing several steps behind him just from the normal movements of his attacks.
The next major difference was that this ooze didn’t have an army of smaller oozes attempting to surround and restrict Tristan. This was just a one-on-one fight, which made everything vastly simpler, especially once he activated his new [Rivalry] skill. He darted in and out unimpeded, carving off huge globs of ooze with the sword, which was definitely more lethal with the [Oozebane] property, and took practically no damage after the stacked reduction bonuses of his new skill and blade.
There was only really one exchange in the fight that proved challenging for Tristan at all, and that was when the miniboss tried to completely surround him with walls made entirely of itself. He hadn’t seen the back side closing in on him until after the top came down, surrounding him in that ghastly green glow and wretched smell. The ooze had then tried to crush him between those walls--but Tristan’s sword simply worked too well against it. He was able to cut a hole straight through the wall in front of him, also dealing tons of damage. Meanwhile, the stinging pains from touching the ooze wasn’t nearly as bad as what he recalled from the first fight.
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In the end, Tristan finished the ooze in what felt like record time. He’d lost less than a quarter of his health, and he hadn’t needed almost any of his tricks. He’d never needed the Roving Blade at all, for example. He wasn’t even sure that it called for a healing potion. The fight had been as one-sided a victory as he’d ever seen. Surprisingly, though, when the notification came, it didn’t feel anticlimactic at all.
[Dungeon quest complete: Your Greatest Fear]
Time in casket: > 1 minute
Any loot gained from the {Crypt Boss} will be upgraded.
[Achievement progressed: Novice Dungeon Delver]
Dungeon Quests completed: 2/3
While he logically knew that he’d only beaten a weaker imitation of the true Progenitor Ooze, it still felt really good to have beaten it at all. He felt that he had truly faced his fear, and conquered it. The line that promised an upgrade to loot he would get from the last boss of the dungeon was honestly just a bonus at this point.
And then there was the progress on the Achievement that he’d practically forgotten about. He’d gotten the first dungeon Quest done all the way back with Opie and Chessa, and the title he’d earned from it way back then had given him a permanent +1 bonus to his highest stat. What would he get for completing the second tier of that achievement? He was excited to find out.
Despite the fog slowly starting to creep back into the space the ooze had cleared, Tristan took his time in walking over to where the second [Key to the Crypt] lay on the grass. He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as he picked the key up. It was completely clean, not showing any sign that it had ever been held by an ooze. In fact, the whole arena was rapidly returning to exactly how it had been prior to him entering the casket. Even the tent had reappeared. There was no evidence of an ooze having been there at all.
It wasn’t real. I didn’t kill it. He shook his head. But next time I see that thing, I will.
Proudly, Tristan rested the [Oozebane Greatsword] on his shoulder and began walking deeper into the bowl of the dungeon. He had one miniboss left, and then the final boss, but something told him that he’d already overcome the hardest challenge the Rockmoor Cemetery had to offer him.
- - - - -
Strangely enough, the third miniboss was exactly as the guidebook described it. Same location, same massive skeleton, stirring the same bubbling cauldron. For the first time all day, Tristan felt genuinely glad for Dungeon Delver Dave’s guide. What a new and unexpected feeling that was. It didn’t matter that the guidebook called the boss fight “hectic”: he knew what to do. He had to kill the boss before it finished mixing its potion.
As the book had explained, the boss encounter was divided into five phases, with the second and fourth being “invincibility phases.” During those times, Tristan had to kill off a lot of smaller skeletons that rose from bone piles scattered about the tomb. The minions all ran toward the central cauldron, trying to hurl themselves into it, but that meant all Tristan needed to do was stay beside the cauldron and destroy the minions as they ran towards it. Granted, it was a lot of skeletons, and he knew that the boss would be empowered for each one that slipped through, but for once, Tristan had a prepared plan, and it worked perfectly. The little skeletal creatures were fragile enough that each only took a single hit, and he often shattered multiple of them with one attack. Not a single one managed to splash into the bubbling brew.
It was an exhilarating feeling watching a plan succeed so completely. He picked up the final [Key to the Crypt].
Now all he had left was the final boss.
Prior to facing the third miniboss, Tristan had been pretty sure that this variant had changed everything, so he’d had no expectations for what the ominous {Crypt Boss} would be. But now, there was a glimmer of hope. Perhaps it could be what he’d prepared for, and wouldn’t that be nice? There was only one way to know for sure.
He left the small tomb and headed toward the biggest building in the cemetery, situated at the bottom of the still fog-flooded bowl. On the way, he passed the fenced-off section the guidebook had called “The Quarry.” It was a place Tristan definitely wanted to visit later. He knew the black iron fences would hold a few fights, but more importantly it was where crafters were supposed to be able to find a lot of good raw materials. Since his own supplies were getting dangerously close to zero, he wasn’t about to let this opportunity slip by, like he had in the Deepstone Mines with Sophie. Still, these materials weren’t going anywhere and could wait. He had a {Crypt Boss} to deal with first.
He took the approach with extreme care, so he wouldn’t be surprised by any of the monsters that he found--or monsters he crossed paths with--along the way. By following in the grass alongside the gravel paths instead of on the crunchy rocks, he hoped to minimize any unexpected attacks. Despite this, a pack of floating ghosts snuck up on him anyway. Tristan had noticed the sudden windless chill, but only after the fight ended did he recognize what that meant. Twice he managed to hear groups of zombies dragging their feet through the fog before they were visible, and dispatched many before they even noticed him.
The Crypt itself looked exactly like the pictures in the guidebook. The massive A-shaped entrance was wrought from stone, with two enormous wooden doors embellished by fine, spiraling metal-works that branched off from the hinges inward, where they surrounded the three oversized keyholes. Tristan had to admit the craftsmanship was impressive. Not quite like seeing the gates at Rockmoor, but still, he wondered if this had been part of the original cemetery, before it had become a dungeon. If so, the person who made it had been truly inspired.
Above the doors were stained glass windows, though whether they were faded or had always been yellowish gray was hard to say. To him, the patterning almost resembled the flames of oversized candles. The symbolism would make a lot of sense if he was about to fight the normal {Crypt Boss}.
Normally, It was a fire demon, and the dungeon’s lore and stories told that it had been sealed away centuries before and guarded by three trustworthy champions... who had of course fallen to its corruption, only to become the minibosses in death. But this variant of the dungeon had seemingly changed up that lore in an attempt to make everything scary. Not that Tristan had bothered going down every dead end to look for any of the random books or paintings and sculptures to find out what the new lore was. He just wanted to finish the dungeon, and quickly. So for now, it was time to figure out the answer to a more pressing question.
What was awaiting him on the other side of the sealed door?
Each of the three keys fit perfectly into one of the keyholes, and it wasn’t hard to guess which one went where. The locks were surrounded by fine metalwork that rivaled any Tristan had ever seen. When he held up each key, he could match the same patterns on the heads and lengths.
The moment the third key entered its lock, all three turned by themselves. The door crept open, slowly, with a squeal so loud it was probably heard across the whole cemetery. Whatever was behind this door was certain to know someone was coming now. The moment the metallic squeal ceased, and the door revealed a gaping blackness beyond, a new sound assaulted Tristan’s ears. It was clear and precise, and it frightened Tristan to think about what this sound being here could mean.
Tristan was no longer quite willing to just step into the darkness of the final tomb, where only the {Crypt Boss} was supposed to be.
Because he had recognized the sound immediately. How could he ever forget something he’d heard all his life, especially as it now echoed threateningly in the crypt beyond:
The rhythm of his father’s hammer.