***The Dungeon***
***Celes***
I think I am beginning to understand why Angrod was so interested in seeing a dungeon. This is clearly some old facility, either with a military purpose or for research. Why else would someone dig into the side of a mountain? Sadly, the facility's origins might be forever outside our grasp after that much time has passed.
Reaching out, I break off one of the stalagmites.
Without being an expert on the topic it’s hard to say, but don’t those things take several hundred years to grow to this size? If so, then this facility could have been abandoned thousands of years ago.
I follow Angrod deeper into the facility.
By channelling mana through my eyes, I improve my night-vision and carefully study the darker corners of each room we enter. After having seen the nightcrawler creature, I have no wish to be caught off-guard.
Ghost is already doing an excellent job at spying out the various nooks and crannies as we advance, but I don't rely solely on him to spot any danger. Following common sense, we make a point of not leaving any room unchecked before we advance deeper into the complex.
Only once do we encounter another nightcrawler after Ghost pounced off into the dark. Angrod’s familiar must have caught the creature while it was sleeping because, by the time we arrive, he already bit through its neck. All that's left to do is for Tanja to take the skin and go on.
The facility turns out to be a strange amalgam between clearly human-made rooms and caves and caverns which seemingly stretch out for miles. “It looks like this was some man-made complex which was abandoned later on,” I muse. “There must have been a natural cave-system in place previously. It looks like a cave-in connected the facility with it. The whole process could have been caused by an earthquake, though I don't understand why many floors are tilted. Something major must have happened here.”
“You could be wrong,” Margerie corrects me. “Limestone caves are often washed out of the rock by acidic rainwater. Given how old this facility must be, it could have been in place before the cave-system formed.”
“Do we have to fear another cave-in?” Sven asks nervously as he inspects what was clearly a chair in the distant past. The lime covered it completely, making it seem like a throne.
“I don’t think so. Tectonically, this region is very stable,” Margerie explains, walking around a shawl-shaped piece of limestone which hangs from the ceiling. “I still suggest refraining from using anything that might cause damage to the structural stability of these caves.”
Angrod leads the way through another opening and I follow him into a large, dark cavern. The Lightglobes on his swords aren't enough to light the space as a whole, but they grant enough light for my enhanced vision.
“Fuck,” I exclaim as dozens of beady eyes reflect the light of our spells. It's like a horde of hungry cats just noticed that a mouse entered the room.
Ghost's only reaction is to lay back his ears. He may be a predator, but even he recognizes the odds of being swarmed by those little buggers.
“Ghost, come back here.” I whistle and gesture for the others to retreat to the previous room.
“What's the problem?” Tanja tries to steal a look past my shoulder.
Angrod keeps walking, undeterred by the gathering of creatures in front of him.
“I think we found the rest of the nightcrawlers. Just get back into the previous room while Angrod deals with them.”
“Shouldn't we help?” Stephen asks, clearly worried about the prince.
Facing the creatures, I take a quick count, coming up with about three dozen of the ugly things. “No. Don’t worry. This adventure was his idea, so he should clean up the trash.” Stepping into the narrow opening between the large chamber and the rest of my group, I decide to make sure that nothing gets past me. “Besides, among our group, Angrod and I are the only ones who can fulfil the role of tanks.”
“Hey!” Iris complains. “I understand that the others’ fighting styles are more about stealth and spells, but am I not a tank too?”
I wave her off. “You are a fighter, but you still lack physical resistance. You have a long way to go until you are more than a one-trick pony.”
“Muuh!” Iris huffs and crosses her arms, but doesn’t dare to object.
Any discussion is suddenly cut short when Angrod steps over some invisible line, infringing on the nightcrawlers’ territory. They surge forward as a group, shrieking like rabid animals.
Wincing, I have to plug my ears with both index fingers. The increased senses which are granted by my internal mana manipulation might be a boon, but they can also be a hindrance.
One moment before the first creatures barrel into Angrod, he spreads his hands in a wide, arching gesture and his blades detach from his armour.
The first line of creatures simply disintegrates in pieces of blood and gore as Angrod’s telekinetically controlled blades shred through them like a meat-grinder. The simple-minded fury of the initial survivors turns to shrieks of horror and fear as their kin are slaughtered, maimed and disembowelled by blades of shining metal, each seemingly acting of its own accord.
The enchantments on the weapons and various spells paint the gruesome scene around Angrod in flashes of red and blue, mixed with sprays of blood.
These creatures might be many and physically imposing, but they have no power against someone who wields arcane powers. The swarming beasts realized too late that something which makes them look like sheep entered the room.
Having enough, Angrod casts a spell and waves his hand in front of him. The creatures who held back or are in the process of fleeing as well as the corpses, pop like overcooked eggs, painting the cave in explosions of red blood and gore.
But everything behind Angrod stays unaffected, and three nightcrawlers make a run for it in my direction!
“Oh, no.” I gesture with my hand, trying my damnedest to shoo the stupid critters away. “Hush! Stay away! I don’t want to get my hands dirty!”
Of course, they ignore my plea, thinking me the easier prey in their fear to get away from Angrod.
The first throws itself at me with a ‘Screee’ and I raise my leg just in time to bring it down on the creature’s forehead, caving in its skull.
Normally, I would just step aside and let the things pass, but there is no telling if all of my friends would have the presence of mind to defend themselves.
Sidestepping the second attacker, I reach out with my tail and wrap it around the nightcrawler’s neck. The hardened arrow-head strikes out more by instinct than in actual intent, piercing one of the creature’s eyes and worming its way into my victim’s skull.
Yanking my tail around, I break the nightcrawler’s neck just as I reach for my third opponent’s snout. Pushing, I slam its head sideways into the cave wall and circulate more mana through the muscles in my right arm and my left leg, applying pressure while the creature flails in pain, achieving nothing more than scratching my armour.
I let go only once I hear bones crack, deforming the last opponent’s head against the solid rock.
Smelling the creature’s stench, I gag and let go, allowing the body to slide to the ground.
“Oh, god! That smell! Angrod! Why didn’t you stop them all? So icky! I had to touch them!” Covering my mouth and nose, I turn around to see if the others are okay.
Only Tanja and Sandra seem to have taken the carnage well, telling me that they are already used to blood and carnage, though they are clearly surprised by the level of violence which was just on display. Sven and Iris are slack-jawed, quite obviously unused to the mayhem of cold murder despite their training. Stephen looks sick down to his stomach, while his sister seems completely unaffected.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
Margerie looks like she just found a free gold coin on the street, a new interesting thing to research, making me wonder what went wrong in my friend’s brain.
“I- I- didn’t- know that...” Stephen stammers. “That you can do that with your tail.” He takes a respectful step backwards.
Following his eyes, I notice that I am still holding the dead nightcrawler at its neck, his body hanging from my raised tail like from a gibbet. The creature is so light that I can hardly feel its weight while I am circulating mana.
“Ew!” I am suddenly painfully aware of the feelings in my sensitive tail-end, the one that’s buried in the creature’s brain. So warm. So wet and slimy!
Making a face, I pull the tip out of the creature’s eye-socket with the sucking sound of a wet ‘Plop!’ and an involuntary shiver runs down my spine.
“Oh, multiverse!” I uncurl my tail and drop the body. Then I take the tip with both hands to make sure that I don’t sully my clothes by brushing against them. “Did anyone bring tissues!? Oh, that feeling was so disgusting!”
“Why didn’t you use your Buddha’s Palm if you didn’t want to touch them?” Angrod asks from behind, completely untouched by the creatures. He surely used a shield to keep the sprays of blood away from his body.
“Because we just said that we shouldn’t use attacks which could cause a cave-in!” I hiss at him. “I don’t have ranged attacks which don’t cause secondary collateral damage!”
He quickly takes a look at his clock, mumbling something like that it isn’t ten yet.
Suddenly quick to apologize, he raises both hands. “My bad! I was too concerned with testing my weapons to pay attention to all of the nightcrawlers.” He reaches for his belt and offers me a flask with water to clean my tail.
Ignoring my predicament, Margerie shuffles past me into the carnage zone. “What was that marvellous spell which made them go POP!” Curious, she bends over one of the steaming corpses, sniffing. “It smells like cooked meat, but I am sure that you didn't use the runes for temperature regulation in that spell-matrix!”
“No. I played a little with electromagnetism and localized spell-effects,” Angrod explains. “I thought it would make a decent weapon against opponents without proper shielding. It's much more wasteful than popping something important in their heads, but it has the advantage that it doesn't have to be aimed properly.”
“So you microwaved them!” I exclaim.
Margerie looks up. “What's a microwave?”
Angrod winces. “Not important!” Turning to me, he whispers. “Don't give her more ideas than necessary to satisfy her curiosity. There is no telling what she might do with that knowledge!”
I purse my lips, eyeing Margerie who is looking at us with suspicion in her eyes. It's true that Margerie's ability to come up with practical applications for Angrod's knowledge is a bit uncanny. He hands her the blueprints for an anti-gravity device, and she goes and builds a drone which accidentally scrambles the brains of everyone who gets near.
“It's really not important,” I reaffirm.
Turning to the others, I try to change the subject while I wash off my tail. “Anyway. From the looks of it, Sven and Iris need a little more training before we can leave them to take care of themselves. Stephen is fine as he is since he has no aspirations to become a warrior.”
“Wha- wha-” Iris gasps in righteous indignation. “Which reaction do you expect from someone who just saw a human-sized, living creature being shred to bits!? Look at that!” She points at the scene of carnage, then gestures upwards. “The bits are everywhere. Even the ceiling!”
Tanja nods. “While you are right that Iris definitely needs to get used to blood, she is also right that this was a little bit excessive. I can't even skin most of the leftovers. That spell just made a mess of everything.”
The only one who seems to be happy with Angrod's rampage is Ghost. The razorclaw meows and brushes past me, bumping my leg with his head. Then he searches out one of the medium rare nightcrawler steaks and starts eating with gusto.
It takes Tanja half an hour to process the remains. Most of that time goes into the creatures which I killed since I left their bodies mostly intact. My friend even suggests for me to take the lead from now on, but I vehemently refuse. Going toe to toe with a mob of nightcrawlers would leave me splattered with blood and goo all over my body.
I would rather avoid that since there is no nearby opportunity to wash up.
We continue on, exploring the various levels of the dungeon, but thankfully it seems like the nightcrawlers are the only ones who decided to make it their home. From the looks of it, they also did a decent job at keeping other visitors out of their cave system.
One strange aspect is that some of the facility's rooms are tilted and twisted, one apparently completely upside down. It adds another unexplainable aspect to the mystery of this complex.
It's only when we descend into the deeper levels that we encounter something new.
The tunnel we used long since turned from a comfortable walkway to a narrow chasm; the floor, and the ceiling so far away that they simply disappear in the darkness. Only a small ledge allows us to traverse the space.
Our goal is another tunnel in the distance, a large door blocking the entrance.
While I and the others have to climb, Angrod simply floats over the dark chasm, using his blades as stepping stones for us where they are needed.
Using my own arts, I simply dig my fingernails into the soft limestone, gaining plenty of hold.
Finally, we reach the door and I join Angrod's inspection.
“This is stainless steel,” he comments. “Heavily enchanted too. Unfortunately, the opening mechanism must be broken. I recognize the design.”
“Yes.” It's an airlock. “I think this might not be a facility after all.”
“It's a floating fortress,” Angrod whispers and engages the override mechanism next to the door. Surprisingly, the door opens when he pumps the lever. “This thing must have crashed into the side of the mountain and shattered while it dug into the rock. That's why the entire structure is so messed up.”
A thought immediately comes to mind. “Do you think you can repair it?” I ask, feeling hope. If this is truly a flying fortress from the old days and this world the same one we originally died in, then if this thing still works it might be able to shatter the City of Light's shield barriers with a single blow.
“No.” He shakes his head while he operates the lever, taking a look back at how the others are doing. They are still a little behind, so we have time to speak in private.
“But if I remember correctly, this blast-door could have belonged to the engine room. One of the power cores might still be usable. There is a lot I could do with one of those. Right now, that level of technology is still decades out of reach with what I currently have at Midhold.”
Slowly, the door opens centimetre by centimetre, leaving a dark opening next to our feet.
It's about half a metre up when a withered hand shoots out of the dark and grabs Angrod's ankle, causing him to suck in a sharp breath of surprise. Pulling, it yanks him off his feet and drags him into the darkness before I can react, separating him from his blades on this side. There is a blast of light and a howl from beyond the gate.
“Angrod!”
I quickly fall to my belly and roll through to the other side. Coming up, I find Angrod struggling with four corpses who try to gnaw on his armour. Luckily, without much effect due to him activating his organic enchantment, coating his head and arms in chitinous bone. The black, faceless mask which formed out of his horns is enough to prevent the worst.
Unfortunately, Angrod can't do much either. The claws on his armoured hands mutilate their flesh, but the undead creatures don't care much for physical damage.
Kicking out, I decapitate the one who is trying to gnaw off my man's face. Gathering energy in my fist and drawing one of my daggers, I bring my fist down on another zombie's back.
“Smite!”
Releasing the built up power into the undead creature, I overload the spell matrix which kept it moving for so long. The animating spell causes the creature to shudder with conflicting signals and with a 'poof' of dust and crumbling bones its remains lose their cohesion, the preserving magic no longer able to maintain the body.
Slicing the stringy tendons of another, I rip it off of Angrod, flinging it against the metal wall. That gives Angrod enough room to free himself. He headbutts the monster which is right in his face, breaking teeth thanks to his horns. Gaining some room, he shoves the decapacitated zombie away and kicks the previous one in the chest, freeing himself.
Making the round, I smite the ones which are still moving in quick succession and return my attention to the necromancer who almost got his face eaten. “Say thanks for rescuing your ass.”
Angrod sits up, slightly frazzled. “I had things under control.” He corrects his armour, now riddled with bite marks. “Just didn't suspect that there was anything left alive in here!”
His eyes drift to the creatures and for a mere moment, I catch him showing emotion. I realize that these must have been men and women in his employ. In the old days, he tended to reward his most devoted followers with a form of immortality.
Turning to the bodies, I ask, “Did they still have a soul?” I can't imagine how it must be to be caught in here, in the dark, for thousands of years. I shudder.
Angrod clears his throat. “No. Luckily, those were feral ones. No mind of their own.”
I purse my lips and try to cheer him up. “Well, technically you were right.” I poke at the animated remains with the tip of my foot. “I doubt that these count as 'alive'.” I smirk, proud of my joke.
He glares at me and gets to his feet, dusting himself off.
“You still alive?” Tanja appears from the shadows while someone else takes up operating the lever on the other side, raising the blast door. Her eyes bug out when she sees the remains. “Oh, wow! Are those genuine zombies!?” She starts hopping up and down, clapping her hands.
“Why are you so happy?”
“Because!” She looks around. “Zombies are only found in the unexplored territory of a dungeon! There is nobody left alive who knows how to make them. The secret was lost. Which means that we are the first who found this place. Maybe there's something valuable in here! Did anyone notice that there is no limestone in here?”
Looking at Angrod, I give him a meaningful look, hoping that he gets the importance of what Tanja just said. We are lucky that he restrained himself from using his necromantic talents so far. Judging by our friend's reaction, using necromancy would have outed him immediately as something that's not from this world.
Blowing a raspberry, I gesture into the tunnel ahead. “Well, only one way to find out if there is loot.”
The corridor angles slightly upwards until we arrive in a large chamber with a small pyramid inside.
Everyone is disheartened at not seeing treasure chests with loot, but Angrod claps his hands in glee as he runs up to the pyramid and picks up a crystalline octahedron. Turning it in his hands, he nods and takes off his backpack to store the inactive device while deflecting Margerie's questions.
Taking a look at my clock, I gesture for everyone to stop before we continue. “What do you think of taking a break for the night? This room seems easily defensible. There is one locked door.” I gesture at the path which we didn't explore yet. “And the path behind us should be clear, or at least hard to take by anything that's larger than a human.”
After some mumbling, the rest of the group also decides that this place is as good as any we came across. The fact that it's at least dry, unlike the rest of the cave system, is the deciding factor, so we settle down for the night.