Book 1: Chapter 63: Walking Wake II

Book 1: Chapter 63: Walking Wake II

Farmer Level Ten reached. Sleep to apply.

So. I grunted, pain barely suppressed within my voice. An attempt to distract myself more than to actually conversate as I pried one of the obsidian spear-thorns from my body. What was that?

The spear? Ishila returned, half-distracted in her attempt to prise another spike from my back. Gods Above I absolutely despised these particular monsters ability to ignore armor. Every confrontation with them left me in vague resemblance to a hairy pincushion.

Found it in the dungeon. Must have forgotten to mention it. I gritted my teeth as she yanked the barbed head free, already aware that chunks of flesh had been taken with its exit.

Seems like an awfully significant thing to forget. I poked at another wound, trying to determine whether or not these monsters possessed the same clear venom as their lesser counterparts. Better to err on the side of caution anyhow, I grimaced at another opened wound and took a swig of milk. Ishila had emerged from the slaughter unharmed, but I was not so fortunate.

That was close. I commented. Too close. The nightmare thing they had transformed into had nearly been a full counter to me specifically. The way they fought, worked together, the variety of powers they possessed..

Killteam. Ishila grunted. Made specifically for you. Or the version of you they fought back at the fort.nôvel binz was the first platform to present this chapter.

And it would have been enough, I replied soberly. With the bloodlust gone, I could see now with terrible clarity. Genius really. The Champion locks me down, able to engage me in single combat, the psycher crushes my mind and the rest turn me into a pincushion. If all else fails, they merge into that swarm-being.

I mused my own destruction, and found the monsters plan had nearly been flawless. There were only two things they had not accounted for; my behemoth and Ishilas lance. Yet, I could not shake the theory that clung to my mind, that these things had been created with the sole intent of killing me in mind. More and more I came back to this, and evermore I was convinced there was an intelligent mind behind these abominations.

This strike had failed, yes. Would the next? I doubted we could afford to wait and see. That alone was foolish. To let the enemy prepare from the safety of the dungeon was to inevitably lose. And in this race, there was no consolation prize for second.

Artyom tended to a wounded Gol not far from where I sat hunched over. The brave, foolish beast had charged out to protect the farm, distracted one of the swarmlings for a few short moments, and had been battered away. Strong of a monster as Gol was, the severity of the threats I faced had quickly outstripped his capabilities.

Wait. I suddenly spoke and felt Ishilas hands paused, about to rip out another spike. How did you know they were made for me?

I had been so lost in my thoughts that her comment had lain unregistered until now.

Depends on how old the dungeon is, but their deepest workings often possess near-human intellect. And this one in both ancient and massive enough to warrant that. From what you and Pa told me, it isnt all that hard to puzzle out theres a mind behind these creatures. You yourself pointed out that they adapted to your tactics at the fort.

I wanted to slap myself, simply for the reminder that I was far from the only intelligent person in this locale. Of course, people who had far more experience with the absurdities of this world could easier accept these seemingly far-fetched ideas.

So, the spear. I returned to the subject. Seems exceptionally powerful.

Yeah. She returned, tiredness in her voice. Kinda frustrain tho. All this power at my fingertips, and I cant tell anyone.

Why not? I frowned.

Ma and Pa know, but they asked me not to spread it. Its a giveaway that Ive been in the dungeon. That, and there are other reasons.

Such as?

Its power, Garek. And like any sort of might, there are those who crave it. While I live, the artifact is bound to me. But when I die, its up for grabs.

Silence drifted among the deep darkness as I hoisted the lantern up and continued to survey the torn fields. Upheaved earth, ruined water-trenches that lay dry, torn plants and a gleam in the distance.

You know, Ive never gotten fully used to that. Ishila mused and walked along behind me as I hurried towards the glint. A minotaur, speaking so eloquently. Ma had told me most of your kind are particualy brutish and see no value in speech beyond short sentences.

The latter is true, and as for the former, I am very much not similar to the rest of my kind.

I gathered as much from our very first meeting. I could hear the smile in her voice. A small thing of beauty amidst the stinking destruction.

Ah yes. The best pie I had ever eaten. Not that that was a very high distinction at that point, but still, a moment to treasure.

There, amidst the dirt and miasma, was lain a single silver relic. I gingerly scooped the shield from the dirt and held it up. Faint scorch marks were the only sign it had borne the sun-lances full brunt. Knock upon its surface showed whatever enchantment lay within still worked, my own force jerked back into my hand. With a smile, I turned and presented it to Ishila. The orcs eyes glinted in the darkness as she reached for it with a tinder grasp.

Your kill, your reward. I spoke simply. Too small for me anyhow, I prefer to fight with both hands.

Bit awkward, but I can use the axe with one hand, I guess. She took it with a smile. Perhaps the most valuable relic had survived the attack. Another artifact from within the dungeon. Might need to get Pa to put a disguising enchantment over it and make it look plain for now. But, really, thanks for lettin me have it.

Youre the adventurer, not me. I smiled. Dont think Ill need it to fend off wolves or whatever.

Huh. The orc remarked. Might need to change my name soon. Ishila Sunspear or Ishila Brightshield?

The spear befits you. I nodded. An orcish custom, I assume?

Yah. Though I should prolly wait till the mess with the dungeon is cleared. Ma will want to have a proper feast if I do that.

Make sure to invite me. I grinned and began to tromp back towards the lodge. The fields, while torn, could be fixed. The dam and stream had taken no stray attacks, and save for a few spikes, the smaller house was whole. The damage was there, but minimal. The storage shed had been pierced by a single bolt, but that was largely empty now, with only tools and milk stored within.

Well, looks like Artyom is gonna have some breeze to keep him company tonight.

Sleep eluded me, I found. With that conclusion forgone, we worked through the night, pulling spikes from buildings, restacking scattered piles of rock, and talking all the while. Mostly idle chatter or empty worries, but it was enough to keep my mind occupied. I sipped a cup of wakebrew as the horizon began to light, realizing it would be some time before I went and slept again.

My newfound level-up could wait for some time longer. There were more important things at hand now.

That point was driven home by a figure that emerged from the trees. Lerish gazed around at the sheer destruction wrought across my property, made a facial expression I couldnt fully make out and stalked towards where we stood.

Long night? She offered.

Aye. You?

Mmm. Found the tower. Make your preparations and gather the others. We will go soon. She looked around. Rather than later by the looks of this place, methinks.

I looked down at what pitifully little wake-brew remained, groaned, threw it back, and settled in for a long, rough day.