The Dungeon Without a System - Chapter 84

Snowbold Village, The First Peak, The Eighth Floor

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Wave was on cloud nine as they talked around the fire in the First Peak Village. His sister was here! It’d been so long since he’d left their old village, and he hadn’t expected to ever see her again. She was safe. Healthy.

Sitting next to his sister, he couldn’t get the stupid grin off his face. Huea was more reserved, but he knew she was just as happy to see him. “So,” Huea began, swallowing her mouthful of iced cream. “You helped The Creator on the Eleventh, and channeling such huge amounts of mana warped you. The Creator noticed and did what he could to guide the transformation.” Wave nodded.

“Tha’s th ghist hof et,” he said around the iced cream and spoon in his mouth. He giggled at his sister’s disgust but continued more seriously after gulping it down. “I was… different. Unique. I tried to live here, among the snowbolds. But I didn’t feel like I belonged anymore.”

“And you found the Eleventh more… welcoming?” Huea asked, seeming confused. Wave considered her words for a moment. They sat silently while he thought and watched Aston translate for Towers as the Scorpan tried to proselytize to the human.

The Scorpan was certainly enthusiastic, and though the human was interested, Wave could tell that same enthusiasm, coming from the enormous monster, visibly disturbed her. He had no doubt that she couldn’t understand his language contributed somewhat.

“That’s… not quite right,” Wave eventually said. “I felt called. On my surfboard, surfing on the sea… it was like I found my place. Not because The Creator told me to live there but because I liked it. But even then… I was still lonely. The only other people I could talk to were the Fire Court manabeings.” He looked across the fireplace again, a fond smile growing on his snout.

“Then you made some friends,” Huea finished. Wave nodded.

“They weren’t like the Snowbolds,” He said, waving a claw. Even now, the snowbolds were giving their fireplace a wide berth. He couldn’t tell if they were trying to avoid the human or show respect. “Treated me like a person.” Huea nodded and looked around at the snowbolds herself.

“I understand that,” she said. “Same thing happens with the Drake-kin and Mushu. Not Tear, though. He was always ‘one of us,’ so even after The Creator elevated him, he never reached that same level of… reverence.” Wave nodded, trying to snap his claws. They both looked at his clawed fingers as they made no noise.

“Huh. Expected something different there. Anyway, that’s the word I was thinking of. Reverence.” They were quiet for a bit. “Come with us.” Wave suddenly asked, surprising himself. Huea seemed just as taken back.

“I… can’t,” she said. She sounded regretful. “I want to, I really do. But I can’t. If I came, I’d have to bring Kata. The Creator was clear that she was to remain on the Seventh. I’m… kinda stretching the bounds here. I don’t think she’d try to leave the dungeon, but bringing her closer to the Core? No. I need to take her back to the village.” Wave nodded sadly and hung his head. She touched his shoulder, and he looked up at her.

“hey, It’s okay. We know about each other. We can send messages with the wind sprites and arrange to visit when this ends.” Huea said, sounding hopeful. Wave perked up again. That was true! He was certainly disappointed, but he understood. She had responsibilities. And even just knowing she was on the seventh changed his motivation slightly. Where he’d once been willing to die, trying to get this core to The Creator… now he’d do his best to live.

Eventually, they were shown where they could sleep. Huea stayed with the human, Kata. Aston and Towers bunked together, and Wave was led to his old hut. The bed was still too small, but he grabbed a few things he’d left behind the first time.

The following day Wave waved goodbye to Huea and Kata. It didn’t feel like a farewell, like the last time they’d parted ways. They knew they could contact each other again and had the means to do so. Wave took comfort in that.

The party of three left soon after that.

They made good time, going through the passages, and it was midday by the time they reached the Ninth. The return trip through the desert seemed to take longer, even though Wave knew it was just as far as it’d been before.

They reached the canyon in only a few hours and trekked down the cliffside path in barely one. They took a break there, at the base of the cliff, for a few minutes. They’d been walking for hours, and Wave knew the others were just as tired as he was. Yes, they were trying to get back to the Eleventh as fast as possible, but it wouldn’t do for them to drop from exhaustion.

Therefore, it was a great surprise when the human walked into the clearing at the base of the trail.

He looked just as surprised as Wave was. His eyes flicked between Towers, Wave, and Aston, sizing them up. When his analyzing look turned into a crazed grin, Wave raised his staff at him. Aston and Towers were suddenly in front of him, hammer and javelins raised. The human practically launched himself at the monster party.

And the fight began.

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The Canyon, The Ninth Floor, The Dungeon

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Hallmark rushed forward toward the group of monsters. He’d never seen any of their kinds before, though the lizard looked similar enough to the ones on the Seventh and Eighth. The beast-like one had legs like a cow and the head of one. It only stood on two legs and wielded an enormous hammer in its muscled arms. It wasn’t as large as the Seventh’s Guardian’s hammer, but still huge. The largest monster… was even stranger. A scorpion-shaped monster with a humanoid torso growing from the front. Possessing both pincers and arms. Its face… a nightmare of shifting mandibles and chitin.

He lifted his sword, deflecting the thrown javelin. The scorpion drew another from its back and snapped its pincers menacingly. Hallmark threw himself sideways to dodge the whip of water that arced around the two large monsters. The water retreated quickly as Hallmark rolled, keeping his momentum.

Then he was on them.

A diagonal strike aimed at the furred beast’s fragile-looking legs was deflected by the warhammer wielded by said beast. This one had two different sides to the head. One was flat but covered in shallow spikes. The other was a wicked-looking spike, curved slightly and bladed on the interior of the curve. The bladed curve deflected his sword strike, and Hallmark spun, using the monster’s momentum, already moving into the next strike. The beast was still recovering from his own counter and out-of-position.

This time, a Javelin intercepted his strike. He threw himself back to avoid the lunging pincers and rose from the dust cloud he’d thrown up with the tactical retreat.

“So, you’re the monster that’s been roaming the dungeon, killing with impunity,” the lizard spoke up, filled with righteous anger. Hallmark hated it already.

“I’m no monster. You’re the monsters!” Hallmark retorted. “And I’m doing my gods-given duty by slaughtering you all!” He lunged forward again, aiming at the scorpion, but every strike was intercepted by either the javelin or the hammer. On the odd occasion he managed to get the scorpion and beast off balance at once, he had back off to dodge an ice spike or water whip.

One even scored a hit on the exposed skin of his arm, carving a shallow cut through his forearm. Sloppy. He couldn’t afford to be sloppy anymore.

He’d needed to use the last of his healing potion to fix the broken ribs from falling into the canyon.

From that moment, Hallmark was more conservative in how he fought. He took less risks. He was cautious not to overextend. The monsters noticed. They couldn’t not notice.

They became more aggressive in response. Especially the scorpion. It took more risks, trying to get past Hallmark’s defenses. He didn’t let it. As the fight went on, Hallmark realized he was tiring.

He wasn’t stupid, after all. Fighting constantly, crossing a desert without water, relying on his now-depleted wide-awake potion and healing potions to stay in the fight… He needed a break. Time to rest.

The Monsters didn’t let up or give him the time he needed to catch his breath.

Hallmark’s mistakes came back to bite him, and he was on the back foot. While his strikes, blocks, and deflections weakened with every passing minute, theirs didn’t. They were fresh; they looked well-fed, healthy, and strong. Hallmark was tired, dehydrated, and hungry. He’d drunk some river water and had monster meat from those beasts earlier, but it wasn’t enough. They were tiring as well, yes, but slower than he was.

More attacks started getting through, despite his best efforts. Only cuts and bruises at first, punishing slowing movements and sloppy footwork. Then larger injuries. Another long slice on his other arm. A few broken ribs. A gouge cut out of his back.

Then came the fatal mistake. As this continued, and Hallmark became more panicked, he lost track of all but the two weapon-wielding monsters in front of him. He forgot the mage. He barely spotted the whip of water that lashed out from his right. The mage had circled around, leaving the protection of the larger monsters. It’d flanked him, and he hadn’t noticed.

Unlike previous whips, this one was formed from river water and, with more speed and mass behind it, it connected. It wrapped around the wrist of his sword arm and yanked it away. The jerk was so strong, and his grip slack enough, that he lost his sword. It fell to the sand with a thud. A second whip grabbed his other wrist, pulling that arm out wide. He pulled his arms to his chest with all his might… But he was too weak. They remained out to the side, and he was helpless.

The whips raised his arms above his head and pulled him into the air. He let himself go limp as his feet left the ground. Hallmark looked up at the mage as it approached him. He tried to get mad at the accusing look, but all he felt was tired.

“Hallmark The Guilder. You have killed many Children of The Creator in your mad descent into our home, though only the Lesser Children were lost forever. You have shown no mercy or compassion for the Greater Children you killed, nor even considered that we could be more than mere beasts,” the monster lectured, eyes narrowed. It raised its staff, and the manacrystal at the top began to glow with a pale light. “Any last words?”

“Wish I killed more of you,” Hallmark grit out, his anger briefly returning. He bared his teeth at the blue-scaled lizard and let the depths of his hatred show in his stare. The monster didn’t seem perturbed.

“So be it.” It stated. The staff suddenly flashed with a white light. Hallmark got a brief look at the icy projectile milliseconds before it pierced his eye.

And he knew no more.

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The Canyon, The Ninth Floor, The Dungeon

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Wave let the body drop to the ground and let the river-water whips go. The water fell to the sand and was immediately absorbed. In seconds it was like there hadn’t been any water on it.

Wave… was exhausted. The fight had gone on for far longer than he’d expected. He’d thought most fights were over in seconds to minutes.

He wasn’t exactly sure how long had passed, but it’d been more than mere minutes. Wave collapsed to the sand, going limp and taking deep breaths. Twin thuds heralded his party members joining him. They lay there for a while, just catching their breaths.

“Well, Plan Distraction worked,” Wave commented dryly. Aston and Towers chucked around their own heavy breathing.

“Only because he was more tired than we were,” Aston said. “That was… Intense.”

“I have no doubt this battle will be spoken of in song and story one day,” Towers interjected. Wave groaned, covering his eyes with his forearm.

“Urgh, don’t remind me. I was already going to be revered because of the Quest. Now because we killed that guy too? I’m building a house on an island on the Eleventh and hiding there.” Wave declared, pointing on claw into the endless-looking sky.

“We’ll visit your hermit hut,” Aston agreed. “Though I think Huea might be upset if you never visit her.” Wave blinked at the reminder and sighed, suddenly despondent.

“I’m doomed either way, then.” Wave summarized. His party-mates agreed. “Hey, don’t you two forget that you’ll be in those stories and songs as well!”

“I’m fine with that,” Aston commented, lazily waving an arm. “Cows’ll dig me back home.”

“I think my mate will be pleased,” Towers said, “Though she might not enjoy the attention. Sits-In-Puddles is a very shy Scorpan.”

Any further conversation was stopped by the echoing cries of three Stymphalian Vultures descending into the canyon.

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The Town Square, Port Medea, Medea Island

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Layla looked out at the crowd gathered in the square, more nervous than she’d ever been. She’d spoken before groups before, but that was just Guilders. She knew Guilders. Knew what made them tick, what motivated them. How to talk to them. These weren’t Guilders; they were ordinary people.

It was a good thing she wasn’t the one talking. Next to her stood Lord Medean, far more composed and in control of himself. He gave her a kind smile, and she took a deep breath, composing herself, before smiling back. Weaker, but no less genuine for that. On his other side stood the new Lady Medean. She was composed and relaxed, her hands held before her.

Baron Medean strode forward toward the front of the small stage, raising his arms. The crowd milling and murmuring beyond him went silence, turning to look at their lord. As he began, Layla’s attention shifted to Lady Medean. She hadn’t been seen in public much since the wedding. Layla could only assume she’d been busy becoming acquainted with her new duties. As Lady of a Barony, she was responsible for her husband’s household. Managing the servants, organizing dinner parties, and other such feminine responsibilities.

The Lady turned to look back at her and nodded slightly. Layla nodded back, then turned her attention back to the Baron’s speech.

“-and the coming month will be difficult for many of us. We have sent messages to port cities on the mainland and the king himself. The first ships will arrive tomorrow to take all those not fighting back to the mainland. Of-age and able men will remain behind to defend our home.” Layla expected them to raise a fuss over this. Her Guilders certainly would have.

The crowd remained silent.

“Mothers and their children, young women, the infirm, and the elderly will be evacuated in that order. After the last of the infirm have boarded the final ship, the remaining ships will defend the island. The raised militia will be well-trained and equipped with everything they need to survive the coming invasion. Please, return to your homes and prepare your belongings. Take only what you need, as the ships will have little space. Clothes, valuables, and personal items. You will be provided food, water, and temporary homes on the mainland.” His piece done, the Baron turned away from the crowd.

He whispered to his wife briefly, and she walked off with a guard soon after. Layla watched the crowd disperse. There was some discontent, mainly among the men forced to stay and fight. All qualifying men were intercepted by a guard as they left the square, and she knew they’d be told where to report to on the morrow for training.

Lord Medean caught her attention with a cough, and she turned to face him. “I can’t thank you enough for getting this information to me. You’ve saved many lives. Imagine what could have been if we’d had no warning. Suddenly, completely surrounded by the Bahrain Armada. Forced to fight to the last or surrender. Well, that’ll likely still be true, even with what little reinforcements the Kingdom will send us. But now we have a fighting chance, and the vulnerable are safe.”

Layla nodded. “It was no trouble. The Guild may be neutral in the coming war, but that is no reason to allow the innocents we protect from monsters to die to their fellow man. I will have to take those trainers back, by the way. Your best men should be good enough now to pass on their knowledge on their own.” Lord Medean grimaced but nodded.

“I’m grateful for them, though I understand why,” he replied. “Can’t have the common soldier knowing the Guild trained their trainers. Bahrain interrogators would jump on that as a reason to attack you as well. You’re needed here, especially if we lose. The Bahrain won’t understand the dungeon. In the worst case, its monsters grow overpopulated and spill out. Potentially thousands of mana-mutants, free to spread through the ocean and attack every bit of land with a coast on the Kalenic Sea. Something neither nation can afford, especially in the middle of the coming war.” Layla nodded.

With little else to say, the two parted ways. Lord Medean returned to his fortified mansion, likely to coordinate and arrange the evacuation. Layla left for the Guild Hall.

“How’d it go?” Felin asked, looking up from a letter on his desk.

“Very well. Far better than I’d expected, that’s for sure.” Layla replied, dropping into her chair and rubbing her temples. “Recall the guilders we loaned to the Baron, asap. We need to start our own preparations.”

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