Chapter 57: Peckish

Chapter 57: Peckish

The temperature dropped as Arwin approached the door leading into the next room. It was at the far end of the hall, isolated from the rest of the room by a patch of dead foliage. The vines around it had withered and turned a dull white, and the water pooling near the base of the door looked sickly.

“That doesn’t seem hospitable,” Rodrick said, kneeling beside the puddle but taking care not to touch it.

“It feels... off,” Anna added. “Wrong, I guess.”

“I’m inclined to agree. Could be some form of necrotic presence in the area,” Arwin theorized. “Or just normal dark magic. I doubt it’s anything too powerful since we’re still in a Journeyman dungeon, but we should still keep our guard up. I’ll take the lead as usual.”

“I’ll back you up,” Lillia said.

Rodrick looked her in surprise. “Really? Shouldn’t that be me? I mean, I know you can handle yourself, but I’m the warrior.”

“Someone needs to watch our back in case something happens to be behind us,” Lillia said smoothly, with all the grace of an older sister redirecting her sibling from something she wanted.

“I suppose that’s a good point,” Rodrick allowed, falling for it completely. He stepped back, letting Lillia move up beside Arwin. With their new formation established, Arwin summoned his hammer back and pushed the door open with its head.

Dried vines squelched and cracked beneath it as it swung open, opening a passageway into the darkness. Not too far down, two dim purple flames flickered at the end of the hall, illuminating an old stone door. Arwin’s eyes narrowed.

That’s definitely a secured room. Something strong is probably in there.

“Probably got a nasty bugger up ahead,” Rodrick whispered. “Look at those torches. The dungeon is warning us.”

Arwin wasn’t so sure warning was the right word. Dungeons did tend to mark their more powerful rooms, but it wasn’t to scare people off. At least in his opinion, it was to bring them closer.

When adventurers stumbled across a room that stood out, curiosity almost always got the better of them and drew them to investigate it further. Stronger monsters meant better rewards, and that meant people were willing to take bigger risks.

And, in the end, magical energy was magical energy. Dungeons didn’t care where it came from. They just wanted more. Monsters, humans, it was all alike. As long as more magical energy entered and didn’t leave, the dungeon would be happy.

Those torches are bait, not a warning.

Of course, Arwin’s thoughts were just theory. Nobody knew exactly how dungeons worked.

Then again, maybe the Adventurer’s Guild lied about that as well. I bet there could be some people that have researched dungeons a lot and could tell me more about them, but now isn’t the time to wonder. Warning or bait, the result is the same. I think we can handle this. We haven’t gone deep enough to be at the base of the dungeon, so this enemy shouldn’t be so strong that we can’t handle them.

“We can handle it,” Arwin said, edging toward the door. “But, on the off chance that we can’t, get out of the room. Let Lillia and I try to handle it while the rest of you run.”

Nobody questioned his orders, and Arwin got a round of understanding nods. They advanced into the darkness until they stood before the stone door. There was no handle, but there was an imprint clearly inviting Arwin to push it open.

I suppose I’d be rude to refuse at this point.

Arwin pushed the door open. Stone ground on stone and purple light spilled out, illuminating a circular room with several doors running along its edges. A locked stone chest sat in the middle of the room. Directly behind it was a large marble pillar riddled with cracks and worn with age.

And, clutching onto the pillar with alabaster skin that matched it nearly perfectly, was a monster. Fangs jutted out from its lips and curled around them, and two massive wings were folded against its back.

It had a humanoid body, but its hands and feet were disproportionally large and bore large claws that dug into the stone like butter. The monster was roughly eight feet long, from head to the base of its barbed tail.

With a roar, Arwin channeled [Scourge] and swung Verdant Blaze. The head of the hammer erupted with flame as it connected. At the same time, lines of heat carved through Arwin’s shoulder.

The gargoyle shot off like a bullet and slammed into the wall, shattering both the stone and its own body. At the same time, Arwin nearly lost his grip on the hammer. He stumbled, blood pouring down his arm in rivers.

In the brief instant the gargoyle had been beside him, it had managed to snag his arm with one claw. And, in that glancing blow, it had ripped his armor open like a can, gouging deep into the muscle and scratching the bone beneath.

If I didn’t have [Indomitable Bulwark], I think I would have lost my arm there.

Anna rushed up to Arwin and pressed her hands to his arm. Relief flooded through him as the wounds knitted shut. The few seconds it took her to heal him were just enough for the gargoyle to rise as well, the last smoldering embers falling away as its body reformed.

Arwin’s second blow had done more damage to it than the first had – likely because it had been head on and also had the additional force from [Shieldbreaker], but it still wasn’t anywhere near enough to kill the monster.

“How many times do you have to kill that thing?” Rodrick demanded, adjusting his grip on his sword.

“Until it stays dead.”

“Fair enough.”

The gargoyle charged again, screaming. This time, before Arwin could attack, Rodrick lunged forward. Despite Arwin’s orders, Reya thrust her hand forward with a yell of her own. Blue light enveloped the monster and its dash slowed for a flicker of an instant.

Rodrick’s sword ignited with burning yellow light and he released a flurry of three blows into the monster’s side in rapid-fire succession before throwing himself back just in time to avoid getting carved apart.

Each of his cuts left a deep gouge in the monster’s side – and the cuts weren’t healing. Arwin nearly burst into laughter as realization struck him. The gargoyle craned its head back to study the damage it had taken, flapping its wings and creating a powerful gust of wind to keep them back.

“Your attacks count as magic?” Arwin asked of the air rushing past them.

“Yours don’t?” Rodrick demanded. “What’s all the fire if not magic? And why does that matter?”

“It’s [Soul Flame]. I think soul attacks count differently,” Arwin replied. “And gargoyles can heal from physical attacks easily. Magic disrupts them.”

“Why?” Rodrick asked.

“Now really isn’t the time for a lesson,” Arwin said as the gargoyle stopped flapping its wings and turned baleful eyes toward them, its gaze locked on Rodrick with revenge promised in its eyes.

“It’s because they’re made of magic, and magic always disrupts magic,” Lillia answered for Arwin.

Arwin started to nod, then paused.

Wait. It’s made of magic, and gargoyles aren’t technically living creatures. They’re objects that have gained sentience, usually stone.

Does that mean...

“What’s that look on your face?” Lillia asked. “Focus!”

“Sorry,” Arwin said, letting his tongue wet his lips as he moved to stand in front of the gargoyle. “I just realized I was feeling a bit peckish.”