Chapter 363: Into the Ruin

Name:A Bored Lich Author:
Thomas glanced over his shoulder. The two bandits had a clear sight of the path, and he knew their crossbows could hit the carriage. He guessed that, if he were to make his way over to the hill, he would find another bandit corpse. 'I did not smell anyone by the hill. I guess my enhanced sense of smell has a limited range. The only reason I smelled these two is because they went from left to right. I smelled their passage.'

His stomach growled. He eyed the bandits. He knelt down and grabbed an arm. It was frozen solid, like the rest of the body. He sighed and patted down their pockets for some meat. At the very least they might have chicken or some venison. What he wouldn't do for a strip of bacon.

Nothing. The bandits had nothing.

He cursed. 'I guess they would be after more food than coins, given the time of year.'

"Thomas," Doevm said through the mental link, startling him. "How is it going? Did you manage to find anything?"

"Nothing significant yet," Thomas relayed.

"Be careful. Elero said she knows the area. There is supposed to be a rather strong group of bandits around here. I heard their leader is around the blue stage of life essence level. Although they're supposed to be a ways away, they could have moved due to the cold."

"That seems unnaturally strong for a group of motley bandits."

"Sure it is." Thomas detected a hint of spite.

"I will call if I need help." Thomas sighed and trudged onwards. Scents grew both stronger and weaker but he managed for fifteen minutes. Then, he found the source of a scent. It was smattered all over a shattered tree trunk, looking as though a boulder had smashed through the center of it.

Sitting at the base of the tree was half a corpse. The closest thing he found resembling the other half was the upper part of plate armor, punctured and crunched. A large fang jutted out of, what was, essentially the hollow scrap metal. The victim's weapon lay a dozen paces away, at the base of a cobblestone stairway curling up and around a decrepit fountain.

Stone angels swam through the fountain's dry basin despite their missing limbs. Time could not rip away their child-like glee, which they sought to share with the many, many visitors to the grand estate looming behind them.

Thomas hugged the stair's edges as he ascended. The ruined estate expanded with each and every step. The last remnants of its roof tiles hugged each other for safety and warmth lest they fall and shatter like most the windows. Wind cried a rustic tune as it sailed through the estate's fence gate, dangling by a hinge. Thomas walked through the gap but he wasn't in the estate yet.

Only one massive door remained in a two-door entrance. The other was nowhere to be seen, as if it had run off. Thomas found dozens of footprints around the entryway. The number of scents he was tracking more than tripled. 'Here goes nothing.'

"It feels so dead in here," Thomas said as he stared into the dark interior of the ruin.

"Dead in here," his own voice echoed.

He knew the echo could give him away but the silence was so damned ominous that he had to say something. "I have read enough books to know where this is going. Usually there would be some sorry sap blindly fumbling through the dark while a monster stalks behind him." He sighed. The door was open so he stepped in.

Pillars to his left and right gathered to mourn a fallen chandelier, which the ceiling, wearily bent with time, could no longer support. It was only a matter of time 'til the ceiling would join in the chandelier's unsightly fate.

Thomas sniffed the air. Several faint trails vanished through doors along the back wall. Other trails led up a flight of stairs before vanishing down a hallway. He didn't follow any of them, not yet.

First, he turned to see a once-secret tunnel in the center of an empty painting frame, small enough to fit a child. Sitting on the edge of the tunnel was a straw doll, staring at him with its last black button eye.

Thomas didn't search around for a torch nor did he pull a light crystal out of his spatial ring. He walked through the dark with confidence, familiarity. No monster could sneak up on him because he was the monster. What would a monster be afraid of? Could it be the chilling cold that punched through his numbed body? Could it be the scent of death in the air, matching his own? Maybe it could be the doors? It was definitely the doors.

He stepped carefully around the broken glass, as just one misstep would give his position away. Thomas stopped before the doors at the end of the entryway and crossed his arms. 'It doesn't matter which one I choose, does it?'

He picked one to his right, much smaller than the others as it was tucked under the stairs. It was less of a door and more like a collection of planks leaning against an opening. He pressed his ear against the wood and, upon hearing more silence, tried to peek through the cracks. All he could see were wooden poles so he grabbed the door handle and pulled, gently.

Blades descended upon him and he rolled out of the way. It wasn't an attack. It was pitchforks, scythes, and rusted swords falling out of the broom closet. He dove forth, hoping to grab as many as he could before they could hit the ground. He stretched his arms out as far as he could, catching the bulk of them. The minority slid off the tips of his fingers and crashed against the ground, making him cringe as their metallic cries rang out. 'What the hell is this, a half baked armory? Pitchforks? Did farmers live here?'

He may have been heard but not seen. He heaved the contents back into the broom closet, slammed the door, and slid behind the nearest pillar. Then, he waited. Ten seconds passed.

Twenty seconds.

Thirty.

He leaned his back against the pillar and let out a sigh of relief. 'There is no one here, is there? If Alexander were here, he would have chewed my ear off. I guess I still have a ways to go.' He dusted himself off and sniffed the air. 'Alright, now where exactly was I?'

A deep, guttural growl set his hairs on end. He peeked around the pillar but he didn't see anything.

"Doevm," Thomas said through the mental link. "Something definitely killed the bandits and it is giving me a bad feeling. Doevm, can you hear me? Am I doing this right?"

Several moments passed before he got a response: "Busy."

"What the hell does that mean?" Thomas replied. He waited a minute but Doevm said nothing more. "Do you need help?"

"This better be important."

"It is extremely important, possibly life and death! There's a damned monster here with me!"

Outside the doorway, a blur slapped the stone with a sickening crunch, bounced, then let out a pained groan. It was a bandit, just barely alive. His bloody form moved around slowly, directionless. Thomas could hear broken bones grind against one another. The bandit managed to flip over to his stomach and pull himself across the gravel, heading away from the mansion. The desperate flailing of a dying man reflected in Thomas's pitch-black eyes. Unlike the other pieces of meat, he wasn't frozen to the bone.

A massive claw descended upon the bandit, tearing right through his armor. Barbed bone served as armor for the black-furred claw, big enough to hold Thomas by his chest. 

Thomas flinched back, hugging the pillar which served as his hiding place. The creature didn't see him but he also couldn't see it. He stood at a bad angle. Maybe a few steps could correct that. The monster was focused on its prey after all. A quick look wouldn't hurt. Curiosity pushed Thomas to lean further into the open.

Fangs lunged at the bandit from behind the door. They ended him with a twisting crunch, followed by a violent rip and a gulp.

Thomas, lost in thought, took a step towards it.