-Past, Unknown Amount of Time-
"Does anyone know how long we've been walking?"
The irritating mercenary named Cahara complained for the umpteenth time, blocking the blades that the monster in our path had in place of claws.
"Your ability to spout nonsense at the most inopportune moment impresses me."
By the Gods, what I wouldn't give to reanimate him as a Ghoul and finally shut his mouth.
"Thank you, it's something I'm proud of!"
His arrogant smile made my blood boil. I growled, grinding my teeth in frustration as I wondered if he had gone mad or simply no longer cared about our condition.
"Focus on combat!" Ragnvaldr swung his axe at the pale being with horns in place of eyes, severing the creature's left arm with one blow.
It roared in pain, recoiling with a leap before disappearing into the darkness of the tunnels surrounding us.
The sound of its growls and dragging claws reverberated off the walls. However, in a moment of surprise, I turned quickly, conjuring Pyromancy Trick against the Locusts Swarm that advanced towards me.
The dark mass ceased buzzing, turning to ashes, but the dancing Yellow Mage proved determined to continue, sending a Black Orb at high speed.
With a thought, I positioned one of my skeletons in the path, watching it crumble into a pile after being hit three times. However, this small opening allowed the skeleton wielding the rapier the young man gave me to advance, piercing the Yellow Mage's side.
Blood stained the ground as he dodged subsequent blows, either deflecting or parrying with his staff; however, his movements slowed, his breathing heavier as sweat trickled down the little exposed skin.
"COUGH!"
Scarlet liquid gushed from his mouth, staining his clothes, and with a final sigh, the mage fell forward. I raised an eyebrow in curiosity as his body vanished, leaving his clothes behind.
I ordered the skeleton to search them for anything of value, and I couldn't help but smile when he returned with a talisman and a necklace.
I fastened the talisman to my robes, next to my Everwatching Talisman, and placed the necklace around my neck, observing the gleam of its sapphire.
I felt the power of the artifacts taking effect and something within me shifting. Now I was one step closer to finding the legendary sorcerer. Satisfied, I turned to my unfortunate companions, watching the end of their fight.
Despite all his irritating quirks, I had to respect the mercenary's martial prowess, for although he wasn't as strong as the outlander, he proved to be the fastest of us all, easily dodging the creature's blows while delivering cuts with his bright blue sword.
The ancient weapon, imbued with power, left flaming trails in the air, easily tearing through the monster's flesh, and as its remaining arm flew away, its head was severed by a heavy blow to its blind spot, courtesy of the redhead.
Its body slumped forward and its head rolled away. Both combatants paused momentarily to catch their breath, but it wasn't long before they claim their spoils.
Cahara celebrated as he got a handful of silver coins from one of the corpse's hands, while Ragnvaldr did something that disgusted the mercenary, but bothered me little.
First, he skinned the pale creature, keeping its hide in his bag, and I was already pondering the possibilities. Then, he crouched beside the corpse and devoured its flesh.
His partner immediately moved away, making strange noises while covering his mouth. I, on the other hand, sat on a dusty crate, smoking tobacco in my pipe.
"Seriously, how can you not be bothered by this sort of thing?!"
The mercenary sat down in front of me, leaning against the wall opposite mine. Removing the pipe from my mouth, I blew out a cloud of smoke, sighing in relief before replying.
"If this bothers you, then it's better not to know what the Dark Priests do during their lives. Ritualistic combat to the death is the least disturbing."
I offered a glance, basically asking if he wanted me to continue, but he looked away, clicking his tongue.
"Alright, then let's drop this subject. Do you think we're on the right track?"
"Well, the roots in the walls, floor, and ceiling are the only thing different, after all, they're going through specific tunnels, not to mention, of course, the increasingly strong draft. If things continue like this, maybe we'll return to the catacombs or the thicket."
"By Alll-mer, I hope so. I don't want to have to deal with our friend if the food ends."
Despite whispering, his words echoed off the walls, but Ragnvaldr didn't seem to care as he returned, wiping his blood-stained mouth, probably aware of the others' opinions on his actions.
He sat down next to us in silence, breathing like a beast. The smell of sweat, decay, and blood mingled with the smoke, making my nose twitch, but I guess it was the same for all of us; we were filthy and slightly injured.
Hm… Not learning healing spells proved to be a mistake. I'll fix that if I survive.
So we remained in complete silence, regaining our strength, the only sounds being the crackling of torches and the occasional squeaking of rats.
"So… We all came to this cursed place forgotten by the gods in search of the same man? For I was promised a generous reward to rescue Le'garde."
"I had visions of this place moments before dying. Honestly, I don't care about the man, but the artifact he acquired is the key to unlocking the many secrets of this dungeon."
We noticed that the outlander was the only one who hadn't spoken, and now he was fiddling with something in his hands. When he finished, a small pig made of pine cones and twigs moved in front of him like an excited cub before running away.
Watching curiously as it disappeared into the darkness, we turned to its creator, awaiting an answer.
"That's a Pine Cone Pig, a lucky charm created by my people. Soon it will return with something useful, and about my reason for being here… Revenge, Le'garde, no, that monster, massacred my village in search of the Cube of the Depths, an artifact I found on a terrible expedition to a land across the sea. Keep it, that thing only brought me tragedy, but the head of that thing is mine."
Hatred gleamed in his eyes, as did the blade of his sharp axe, yet I couldn't help but feel a little sympathy for him.
"I'm sorry about that."
Cahara offered a nod, which Ragnvaldr returned, softening his expression.
"Looking at everything that happened, we should have accepted the boy's idea of returning to the surface. We could have come back later with better preparation."
The outlander replied, and I couldn't agree more. This dungeon had terrifying stories, but none of them compared to the real danger we faced.
"Do you think he managed to get out with his child?"
Ragnvaldr shrugged, but his face betrayed his attitude. He thought the same, but I had to intervene at that moment.
"I highly doubt that the forces at work here allowed him to leave so easily."
The doubt of both was obvious, so I continued before they demanded an explanation.
"Don't you find it fitting that so many people entered the same place on the same day? That so many tragedies occurred one after another, culminating in a place full of madness and monsters? Destiny, gods, whatever they may be, set events in motion long before we arrived. The expedition, the cube, Le'garde, and everything that led us here are connected. We all have a role to play, including the knight, the young man, and the child. Although the latter two are the most interesting. They say you can't please all the gods, but that's nonsense; after all, my affinity with Gro-goroth and the God of the Depths is quite high, the same goes for the young man—several deities observe him, but I don't know their names, after all, there are many obscure gods scattered throughout the world. I'd like to know how he managed that. As for the child, you may doubt me, but she possesses a great dormant power; I fear just thinking what will happen if that power awakens."
They both fell silent, processing my words, with Ragnvaldr being the first to break the silence, and Cahara following suit.
"That makes sense."
"Hahaha! Makes sense? You two sound like lunatics!"
His laughter was a mixture of fear, mockery, and despair, slowly fading until his face became impassive.
"Holy shit! That makes sense!"
"I'm glad you finally understood. I thought convenience, monsters, and obvious magic wouldn't be enough."
"S-should we do something about it?!"
"That's for you to decide. I'm not a hero, my motives are selfish, I seek knowledge and nothing more."
We would have continued our conversation, but a snapping sound caught our attention. Looking towards the source of the noise, we saw the Pinecone Pig returning with something around its body, a kind of brown and orange amulet.
Ragnavaldr carefully held the small creature, taking the amulet and placing it around its neck.
"Where did you find this?"
The magical construct returned to the ground and ran in circles around him, making the man chuckle slightly, before continuing on with its creation.
Cahara and I exchanged a glance before doing the same. We had to hurry our way through, the torchlight casting monstrous shadows around us as the number of roots increased.
Eventually, we reached our destination, almost being left behind, and there we found Ragnvaldr and the pig standing before a skeleton partially trapped against the wall by roots.
I didn't pay much attention; it was just another being for me to reanimate with Necromancy. Cahara let out a pitying insult upon seeing the body, while Ragnvaldr took the skeleton's armor for himself, a grey farmer's hat that seemed modified for combat, and blue silk robes.
The outlander murmured something in a language I didn't understand, probably an apology or a prayer for the dead; however, the two tunnels near the body were more interesting in my opinion.
We entered the first one, having to crouch, almost crawling on the ground, to reach the other side.
Anyone else would have found this a terrible idea, but no one else had to wander aimlessly through labyrinthine tunnels. Any chance of escape was welcome.
We didn't find an exit on the other side, but that didn't change the fact that the outcome couldn't have been better, as we arrived at a large cavernous chamber with the floor covered in blue, red, and green herbs.
For a moment, we were paralyzed in silence and surprise. It was hard to believe that something so valuable was hidden here.
If it was a trap, it must have stopped working long ago, because nothing stopped us from filling our bags and pockets with all the herbs we found.
Cahara laughed like a madman, Ragnvaldr spoke something in what I believed to be his native tongue, while I, though more restrained, felt the corners of my mouth twitch and a weight leave my stomach.
Not a single herb remained on the floor when we finished, and after returning, we crossed the remaining tunnel, feeling the air current grow stronger.
Perhaps our luck was changing for the better, for we found the thicket, the underground region beneath the large tree in the dungeon's courtyard.
We only needed to find one of the holes, however, an object of interest interrupted our search.
There was a strangely designed sword stuck in the ground ahead, and unlike everything around us, the roots and corruption couldn't get close to the weapon, leaving it in a patch of clean, pure soil.
Ragnavaldr approached the sword, hesitantly raising a hand toward it.
"Are you sure it's a good idea to pull this thing out of the ground?"
I sent a sarcastic glance at the mercenary beside me, staring at his blue sword which he held as if it were his own child. He had the decency to look embarrassed and avert his gaze, and with that done, we returned to observing how easily the sword was lifted.
As expected, it would never be that easy. A frigid chill filled the air. Shivers ran through my body, and the others seemed to feel the same. Looking around with weapons and spells at the ready, we searched for the source of the disturbance, and it wasn't long before it appeared.
A semi-transparent gray specter appeared before us, floating while wearing the clothes and sword that Ragnvaldr had recently acquired. No words were exchanged; with absurd speed, the Specter lunged at Ragnvaldr, its sword tearing through the air in a gray blur.
CLANG!
Only for its blow to be blocked by the physical version of its own weapon. With his free hand, the outlander swung his cursed axe, forcing the spirit to recoil, allowing my Black Orb to strike it twice.
The third blow never came, for with a precise cut, my spell was split in two. Soon we became the focus of his attention, met with a barrage of attacks.
The skeleton I placed in the path did little to stop him, being sliced apart as his rapier fell to the ground. A tightness gripped my chest as his sword nearly severed one of my arms, leaving a bloody gash.
I stifled a scream, clenching my teeth as I held the wound and threw myself to the ground, dodging a slash aimed at my neck.
Dragging myself away, I saw Cahara attempting to attack the spirit, but to everyone's surprise, his magic sword passed through the Spectre as if it didn't exist, leaving him unharmed.
"What a shitty magic sword!"
I would never admit it, but I agreed with the man who was now focused on dodging, receiving light cuts all over his body.
"TAKE IT!"
Fortunately, Ragnvaldr offered his aid, throwing his axe at the mercenary's feet, who dropped his sword and raised his new weapon, blocking the next attack in a shower of sparks.
Clicking my tongue, I leaned against a wall, stood upright, and conjured Black Orb again, as it was the only spell in my repertoire that could harm a spirit.
The first attack missed, but the Spectre was left open by dodging, receiving a cut to the chest and back, courtesy of the mercenary and the outlander .
When the orb returned for its second attack, it received a glancing blow to the shoulder, having part of its ghostly body torn away; however, both of its opponents received heavy blows to the chest.
Screams of pain echoed through the darkness; if it weren't for their armor, I believe the blows would have been fatal. But as soon as the spell returned for its third attack, the combatants chose the moment of distraction to rally to my side.
Just as before, the orb ceased to exist, courtesy of a sword strike, and the Spectre turned toward us, preparing to continue the combat. He wasn't monstrously strong like the other creatures, but he was fast. We would die from a thousand cuts if things continued like this.
However, the Spectre wasn't in a better situation. I don't know how wounds against the spirits of the dead are supposed to work, but there were missing parts in the places hit, and his form seemed to repeatedly enter and exit existence.
I conjured another Black Orb in my hand, and my companions prepared their weapons. Our opponent did the same, raising his sword in a different stance.
Power gathered in his ghostly weapon, a supernatural wind blew around us, encircling the steel of his sword.
"EVERYONE, TO THE GROUND!"
Perhaps it was instinct, but I acted immediately upon hearing Ragnvaldr's words.
There was a blinding light followed by a gust of wind that almost blew me away. When that ended, there was a bang followed by a cloud of dust.
With my ears aching, I rose to one knee, hurling the orb toward the Spectre. Simultaneously, Ragnvaldr and Cahara left the dust cloud, closing the distance.
The spirit was about to destroy my spell again, but I acted faster. Concentrating, and with a gesture, changing the trajectory of the orb, which circled the sword before moving on.
The blow was precise, directly to the center of his head, throwing it back, and as it returned to its place, a sword and an axe were embedded in his body.
Without a word, the specter showed no pain or surprise, only a solemn nod before disappearing, taking the cold with it.
We waited for the next danger, but nothing happened, except for Ragnvaldr's sword changing color, going from a deep dark to a pure silver.
I suppose it was purified of its dark power.
"Hey, here's your axe. Thanks for the help."
Cahara returned the outlander 's weapon, they exchanged a nod before he retrieved his original one. I retrieved the rapier the skeleton was using and with that done, we searched for a way out.
It was a quick walk, something I celebrated, considering how much my legs ached, and upon falling down the last hole, we found ourselves in the catacombs again.
"So, what do we do now?"
"I'll go after Le'garde, he still needs to pay for what he did."
I ignored the worried mercenary and the furious outlander, walking towards the stairs to the upper levels.
"Do as you wish, but I'll rest for now. This was a disaster, I need some sun and fresh air."
I didn't wait for their answers, but I heard their footsteps following me.
However, we noticed something strange upon arriving at the prison: the large number of dead monsters, Ghouls, guards, and the small flying creatures, leaving a trail of death on the ground.
Their bodies were in various states: cut, pierced, crushed, burned, or partially devoured, with everything of value taken from them.
This would never end, would it?
We walked with weapons at the ready, eyes alert, and cautious steps, crossing the secret passage in the library and entering the garden.
Our mouths dropped open and our eyes widened immediately at the sight, not only because it was night, making us wonder how much time had passed since we entered the dungeon, but also because of the thing in the sky.
Cahara was the first to dare to speak.
"Guys, why is the moon smiling?"
END OF CHAPTER