The Dungeon Without a System - Chapter 82

Wave, Aston, and Towers-Over-Others followed the path through the canyon as light from the manasun peaked over its edge and spilled upon the glistening, running river. The trees rustled in the wind. Small birds and animals made various growls, chirps, and other noises. Occasionally, they heard the odd, echoing screech of a Stymphalian Vulture overhead or the roar of a Golden Sunlion as it fought another male.

Unlike the odd quiet of the Tenth and Eleventh… the Ninth was alive with animals and monsters. It felt… more complete.

Wave knelt at the side of the river and dipped a few water skins in, filling them with fresh, clean water. Aston raised an eyebrow at him as he returned to the path.

“For your magic?” the minotaur asked. Wave tilted his head from side to side, hooking the skins on a belt.

“Not just for my magic,” he admitted. “We’re going into a desert. We might not need to eat or drink, but doesn’t the idea of going into a desert without water sound stupid?” The minotaur shrugged in response; the axe resting on his shoulders shifted as he did.

“It is a good idea,” Towers agreed, shifting on his eight legs. “The Creator teaches us that, while we may not need food or drink to sustain ourselves, it is to our benefit.” His piece said the Scorpan returned to scanning the greenery.

Wave smiled at the enormous monster and did the same. They’d taken the night in the village to get to know each other. While the Scorpan had initially been stiff and formal, he’d opened up during a conversation on their Creator. Like all Scorpans, he was fanatical, though far more reserved in his worship than others were.

The following two hours of walking were quite pleasant. They continued to talk, though this time more about how they fought individually and how they might fight as a team. The hours passed like minutes, and they quickly reached the canyon’s end.

Wave stopped to stare at the series of narrow switchbacks that made up the path to the top. He remembered descending them, and though he knew the track was safe, it didn’t look like it from the bottom.

He turned to the other two party members, trying to look serious.

“Towers, Aston. After this climb, there is a high chance we could encounter the human walking around here.” Wave stated. He then took a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking, and he’s clearly the most powerful guilder to ever enter the dungeon. Wouldn’t that mean he has the largest core? The Creator did say it could be a monster or human core.”

“You want to ambush him? Take his core?” Aston extrapolated, rubbing his hairy chin. “It would be faster than going all the way to the Seventh, that’s for sure.”

“I don’t like the idea,” Towers interjected stiffly. “It puts you at too much risk. The King sent me to protect you from the human if we encountered him. Not to seek him out.”

“You’re not wrong,” Wave admitted. “Aston and I don’t have Respawn Crystals. Any fight we get in is one where we risk our lives. Still though, if we were to encounter him… wouldn’t it be better for us to have a plan?” Towers couldn’t refute that. As they climbed, they tried to turn their rough strategies into something they could use against the lone guilder.

They had a few plans, but none could say they’d work. They didn’t know enough about how the human fought to nail down a definitive strategy. When they crested the final ramp, Wave could only squint against the glare and raised a claw to shield his eyes. The dunes glittered and shone in the light, and it was only after a few minutes that his eyes adjusted. He glanced to the side and found Aston much the same.

Towers was unaffected and seemed amused. Wave rolled his eyes at the Scorpan. “Yes, yes, you’re adapted to the environment here. Well done. Which way is the Entrance? The dunes look different from how they did when I last came through.” Now smug, Towers moved off, heading towards the start of a dune’s ridgeline.

Wave and Aston followed quickly, not wanting to be left behind. They heard the cry of a Stymphalian Vulture in the distance and saw a trio of silhouettes wing their way into the desert.

It took a good few hours to cross the desert. About an hour in, they found where the Vultures had gone. They circled a figure atop a distant dune, diving every so often and peppering it with their metal feathers as it sprinted away from them. Deciding discretion was the better part of valor; the monsters slid down the leeward side of the dune before they could be spotted and continued on their way. Wave had no doubt that was the human. No one else was meant to be out here, and he could only hope the man would remain lost among the dunes.

When they arrived and passed through the tunnel to the Eighth, Wave sighed in relief. He hadn’t particularly enjoyed the heat of the Ninth and much preferred the icy wind of the Stormy Peaks or the sea breezes of the Eleventh.

Aston and Towers, however, were less prepared for the cold. Towers, as one of the original Scorpans, had passed through the Eighth before. Even so, after so long living in the heat of the Ninth, the cold was unexpected and unpleasant for the monster. Aston was born on the Tenth and had no reference for the cold. Thankfully, his fur coat served him far better as insulation than in the desert.

“It’s freezing. How can you stand the cold?” The minotaur asked Wave as he shivered. Towers seemed like he agreed, his increased movement likely to stave off the cold.

“I was once a Snowbold. This is where we were made to live. Even after becoming what I am now, I never lost the part that lets the wind here feel like a cool breeze rather than the icy daggers I’m sure you feel.” Wave replied. His companions nodded in understanding. “Come. It should be sundown soon, and it’ll only get colder. There’s an entrance to the Third Peak Snowbold Village not far away.”

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The Desert, The Ninth Floor, The Dungeon

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Hallmark was sure now. He didn’t just hate the Bird from the Eighth. He hated all bird monsters. They kept too distant for him to strike, even with the ice wand and crossbow in hand. They had some wind magic at the very least since any shots he sent at them were quickly diverted by the casual flap of a wing. After a single test use, he determined the Icicle Stave was all but useless in the desert. As far as he could tell, it drew on mana in the air and his own manapool.

Which made the source of its weakness obvious. Hallmark was in a desert, where water mana was scarce. As he glared up at the birds, he licked his now drier lips and returned the stave to his belt. Hallmark hefted the crossbow but didn’t aim it skyward. He’d already tried that and didn’t want to risk using the small explosives he’d already strapped to them. He idly wished he’d bought more than one of those spectacular explosives from the enchanter back on the mainland.

He still kept the crossbow in his hands, though. One might make the mistake of diving down at him, and it’d be harder to dodge the closer they got.

When the monsters figured out he wouldn’t shoot them anymore, they did something he hadn’t expected. They looked to be monstrous vultures, and such animals were carrion birds. They follow dying creatures, then feed from them after the animal drops of exhaustion or dehydration. As such, his expectation was that they’d merely follow him. He looked down from the sky, scanning the horizon for any variation in this dune see.

It was only thanks to the sun glinting off the feathers that he could dodge the attack. He quickly cast his gaze skyward again but only found the mocking cries of the vultures. Wary, he looked down where whatever it was had landed and saw a feather. A metallic feather. It was slightly ductile, silvery, and mostly dull. The long edge and tip were razor sharp, shiny, and rigid.

Hallmark looked up again, and his eyes widened. He sprinted along the dune immediately, not looking back as he heard the dozen dull thumps of feathery projectiles impacting sand.

The three monsters had seemingly decided it was their turn since he’d stopped shooting. Hallmark ran, varying his speed randomly, and another dozen thumps followed him. Each sounded closer than the last. He turned his head to glance up.

He saw the silvery feather quite clearly as it cut his cheek on its way to the ground.

Snarling, he turned to face the vultures and raised his crossbow. He fired.

With the casual flap of its wings, one of the birds halted the bolt in its tracks, just as it had the last one. It hung in the air for a moment as its momentum slowed. Just as it began to fall, the bird flapped again, and the bolt hurtled back toward Hallmark. His eyes widened, and he turned and sprinted away. When the bolt hit the dune behind him, it exploded. He felt the searing heat through his armor and fell to his knees. He turned back and saw that section of the dune had a crater.

The crater glimmered ever more than the sand already did, now holding dozens of clumps of glass. Hallmark scrambled to his feet and started running again. He hoped he was going in the right direction as the thumps came quickly. This time he kept an eye on the sky, dodging metallic feather after feather.

While he could focus on dodging and running, neither had the attention they deserved. The inevitable happened. Hallmark dodged sideways, and his foot stepped off the ridge. It found only air, then landed on the slip face.

He slipped. He fell. He rolled down the dune, catching a mouthful of sand with every roll. When he finally stopped at the base of the dune… he was pissed. He glared up at the birds with a snarl, aimed his crossbow, then lowered it with a frustrated shout.

This was a fight he couldn’t win. The birds were too far away to hit and would send every bolt he fired back at him. Explosive or not, getting hit would slow him down. He couldn’t afford to slow down.

The monsters continued to cry out in mocking laughter as they ascended higher, settling into a circling pattern. Hallmark raised his waterskin to his mouth, then frowned as he only got a few drops. He raised it higher and found it sliced open. Wheeling around, he found no wet spots on the sand. It must have happened when he was running atop the dune. He had at least six other places on his armor that bore similar slices.

He let out a frustrated scream, and only the Birds responded. Their cries followed him until the sun set, with them diving ever so often to shower him with their feathery projectiles.

As the light faded, he saw the vultures finally break off. He squinted at their shadowy forms as the great band of stars emerged.

They had to be returning to their nest. Hallmark smirked. He finally had a direction. With another small gulp of the wideawake potion, he began to walk through the night and felt he’d find wherever they went by morning.

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The Cells, The Seventh Floor, The Dungeon

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Kata stood still as she looked at her old cell. There were five in all, each in its own room to isolate them from each other, which she’d had no idea were even there. Kata didn’t know who’d been in the other four or even if they’d been used since they were all clean and the air here was slightly stale. She had to agree with Huea. It’d been a while since anyone had been here.

“You okay, Kata?” the drake-kin asked softly, one claw on her shoulder. After a shaky breath, she nodded.

“I’m fine. Just… thinking,” Kata replied with an uncertain smile. The drake-kin squeezed her shoulder with a nod. The monster’s claw slipped from her shoulder and took her hand.

“Alright then. Come on, the storage room isn’t far,” Huea insisted, pulling Kata along. The human followed slightly listlessly. Being here was… weird.

She’d spent so long in that cell. In fact, she didn’t actually know how long she’d been in there. It all blurred together. When they emerged into the storage room, her eyes widened.

Along one wall was a row of standing, intact skeletons. Some were drake-kin, others were kobolds. There was one human. In their rib cages were glowing teal monster cores, and the empty sockets of their skulls held a small blue point of light amidst the darkness. She’d forgotten about them entirely.

One had delivered her food soon after her capture, and she remembered the terror she’d felt at the sight of it. It’d never returned.

“The D-Creator made undead?!” Kata gasped, abhorred. Huea glanced at the skeletons, then shook her head in disappointment. Disappointment!

“Unfortunately not. They’re merely shells for His will. I remember Him commenting that they lacked the spark of life and only moved because He moved them.” The drake-kin sighed. “Ultimately, they ended up inspiring the golem bodies the Courts use. Speaking of, the cores were stored over here.” The monster pulled Kata along, and she stumbled slightly before joining her friend. She glanced over her shoulder at the skeletons one last time before they left the room.

The hallway was short and ended in a large room. This one was positively filled with monster cores. Dozens! Some were perfect spheres, others more oval-shaped. There were a few she was sure were human cores. And these weren’t small ones like the Crabs had. They ranged in size from Kata’s fist to one as large as her entire torso! “Is that the one we’re looking for?” She asked with trepidation, pointing at the largest. It sat on what looked like a metal brazier. They couldn’t carry something that large around! Thankfully Huea shook her head.

“No, that’s the Respawn Crystal prototype. It’s not a standard mana core anymore.” The drake-kin answered distractedly. She walked over to the shelf filled with larger cores and pulled one from the shelves after a few minutes of studying them. “This one.”

Huea walked back over to Kata, who’d remained near the door, and she got a good look at the core her friend held.

It was a foot long, and she judged it about a foot in diameter. It was clear and glistened in the mana light. “Why this one in particular? There are still larger ones on the shelf.” She asked, pointing to one at least half a foot longer. Huea shook her head.

“It’s been a while, but I was quite involved with these experiments,” the drake-kin admitted. “Most of the cores are enchanted. Very early tests of what would eventually go into the respawn crystals that ultimately led to the big one on the floor.” She nodded, then hefted the core in her hands. “This one is unmodified, besides adding some mana to make it bigger. Part of the prep work.”

Kata could only nod, feeling slightly dazed. Before today, she hadn’t thought manacores larger than her clenched fist existed. And now dungeons could consciously infuse manacores with mana to make them larger?! The consensus was that manacores could only get so big since they’d grow too large and start pressing against organs. That would be bad, especially since they usually form near the heart of a creature.

But, taken outside of a body and then infused with vast amounts of mana with nothing to restrict its growth? It made sense.

“So… what do we do with it?” she asked, looking at the huge core in her friend’s claws.

“We take it back to the village and wait for Wave to turn up,” The monster replied. “If he doesn’t… we can assume the human got him, and we’ll probably have to take it to The Creator’s Core ourselves.”