The Lesser One: Chapter 24: A Small Park

A Small Park

The three guild masters brief us on what we’re supposed to do. There are at least a dozen A-class adventurers, as well as three dozen B-class and sixty C-class. We’re a veritable army.

But this is what it takes to clear an S-class dungeon, and we don’t even know if this is going to be enough.

After all, no S-class portal has ever been cleared before, and the only two that were ever made safe were defeated after they prolapsed and caused huge damage.

I am put near the front, behind a wall of six tank-class adventurers. I conjure a compound bow and two dozen arrows to start with.

The Red Crickets enter first. Wave after wave of adventurers disappear into the portal. Dungeon Solutions UK enters second. Then comes the Blue Dryads, the guild I am working with.

The interior of the dungeon is a sweltering jungle. The sound of a massive monster howling in the distance reverberates through my bones.

“Contact!” yells an adventurer from the Red Crickets. “Two casualties! Three! We need a healer!”

Explosions rock the ground. A wall of fire blasts through the jungle, and is met with a wall of crawling man-eating vines.

“Casualty!” yells another adventurer. “Man down, man down!”

Twenty B-class monkey monsters area forming a pincer movement around us. The six tanks in front of me form a wall that faces three sides.

One monkey throws a crude-looking spear. The spear hits one of the tanks in front of me and a black hole opens at its tip. Half of the tank-class adventurer’s body disappears into a maw of swirling darkness. The other half spurts blood and falls to the ground.

Damn. Adventurers are dropping like flies.

I hit a monkey right between the eyes and it falls to the ground, dead. The rest of the monkeys retreat into the forest. In any other dungeon, this would be where we would absorb the dead mobs’ spirit circles. But now, we have no time. Three technicians suck up the spirits to avoid contamination and we continue on our way.

We took seven casualties, and this was just the opening salvo. Several apprentice porters carry the bodies—at least the ones that are reasonably intact—back towards the exit.

An A-class rhinoceros, flanked by ten B-class raptors, charge out of the forest and bowl over our flanks. Two more dead, a dozen injured. I fire off as many arrows as I can and hit the rhino right in its sweet spot. A blast of fire magic hits the rhino when it is weakened. The rhino comes crashing down, pushing up mud and dust.

The ten raptors leap into our lines, their claws ripping through flesh and armor. We fight them down. I take one out with a shot to the neck. We take two more casualties before the raptors are all dead.

“Collection!” yells the leader of the Red Crickets. “Maria!”

Even in a survival situation like this, it would be stupid to leave the spirit of an A-class monster to rot. This rhino probably has a spirit of around a thousand years, give or take a hundred.

The adventurer who I assume is Maria receives the spirit, and ten minutes later we are on the move.

As we are crossing an open mesa, the sky darkens. A gigantic mushroom monster lands in the middle of our army, spewing poisonous spores. Ten adventurers get a face full of the stuff. Two seconds later, their entire bodies erupt with mushrooms. The rest of the adventurers do their best to avoid the spores.

I fire as many arrows as I can at the mushroom monster. Fireballs, acid attacks, ice and lightning. Nothing seems to bring it down. It stomps down another adventurer.

The five remaining tank-class adventurers in front of me form a rank. The mushroom monster is heading straight for me, crashing through the battle lines. I can see its thousands of eye holes, each one hosting an insect-like bulbous orb.

I fire arrow after arrow. I conjure fungicide and coat my arrows with them. It seems to work. The mushroom monster, being attacked from all sides, falls to the ground.

I fire the last arrow. The killing blow.

The mushroom monster screams, shriveling up to half of its size.

A thousand-year ring rises out of the monster.

Since I killed it, I get to absorb it. I’m already powerful, but the rules are the rules. Whoever strikes the last blow gets to absorb the monster.

Again, if one absorbs a ring that is too far above one’s current level, it could cause massive problems.

But I am the owner of a ten-thousand-year spirit. This won’t hurt a bit.

I sit down, meditate, and say the mantra. The mushroom’s ring rises out of the corpse and rotates around me, disappearing into my stomach.

Derwyn claps me on the back. “You’re even more powerful!” he says.

I shake my head. “It was a coincidence. And, we’re going to need all the power we can get to clear this dungeon.” I steel myself. “It was my fault that it opened, after all.”

Derwyn shakes his head. “Portals are nobody’s fault,” he says. He flips a long spear around his back.

We continue into the dungeon. Every couple hundred yards, we meet a mini-boss that is at least A-class. Each encounter costs more lives. Two more of the tank-class adventurers defending me fall before we reach the boss of the first level.

Yes, higher-rated dungeons have more than one boss and more than one level. S-class portals are at least ten times more dangerous than A-rank portals, and ten thousand times more dangerous than D-class portals.

The first floor boss room is an ancient Mayan-style temple. Heavy footsteps sound from beneath the stone monolith.

A giant tiger, maybe ten feet tall, approaches us.

“S-class!” yells a member of another guild.

Yes, this is an S-class monster. The first one I have ever seen. Its aura is disastrous. I can feel the huge roiling waves of power emanating from its hide.

The tiger roars, sending an almost physical shock wave rushing through our ranks.

“Stay in formation!” yells a commander. “Don’t be intimidated!”

The tiger charges. Three ranks of tank-class adventurers form a phalanx.

The tiger crashes through all three rows. People and bodies fly everywhere. The clash of steel against claw rings.

The tiger approaches me. There will be no missile flying in to save me this time.

I raise my bow. The arrow seems tiny, almost pitiful when faced with the gigantic hulk of feline danger in front of me.

The tiger hisses.

I pull back an arrow and shoot. The arrow embeds itself in the tiger’s hide, and the tiger doesn’t even appear to notice it.

So much for being an S-class adventurer.

But … I haven’t even come close to my full output.

I hold up my hands and conjure a ball of pure fire energy. Power pours out of the red cracks lining my hands. I almost lose control of it, but keep it contained between my hands. I form the power into a dense arrowhead that I place on top of a strong ash body. The arrowhead gleams with intense, almost nuclear, power.

Derwyn stands beside.

“In the end, it’s just us S-classes, eh?” He says.

The rest of the adventurers are breaking formation and running past us.

A blinding ball of light forms at the end of Derwyn’s spear.

“We aren’t S-class for nothing,” he says.

The nuclear warhead at the end of my arrow simmers. I pull the string back. Even the vast store of infernal energy inside me is straining to provide enough magic to power the warhead I’m about to deliver.

The blinding ball of light at the end of Derwyn’s spear shines like the sun.

“On three,” says Derwyn, as the tiger tears through the tank-class adventurers in front of us.

“One,” says Derwyn. The tiger swipes its paw and thrashes an entire squad.

“Two,” says Derwyn, as the tiger rips an adventurer apart between its teeth.

“Three,” says Derwyn.

I release. The arrow streaks through the air, breaking reality as it flies. Derwyn’s spear shoots a bolt of lightning that strikes the tiger directly in the face.

My arrow tears a foot-diameter hole straight through the tiger’s body, from its left cheek to its right buttocks. The vacuum created by the arrow’s passage sucks blood and tissue into a vortex of offal.

The lightning bolt covers the tiger’s entire outer body, singing off all of its hair. Its eyes explode into steaming jelly.

Derwyn and I stand, breathing heavily. I turn to him, chuckling.

“Now that’s what I call S-class,” says Derwyn.

The tiger’s spirit ring rises out of its body. Instead of coming out as one whole ring, it splits in two, one half traveling to each of us.

Derwyn holds out his hand. “I trust thee, god of knowledge. Bless me with this curse.”

I recite my own mantra. “Hey, Dr. Barrimore? Does your potion still affect me?”

It does. I absorb the half-ring without problem.

Derwyn looks over the decimated adventuring party. “I don’t think we can continue, though,” he says. “I won’t be able to pull another attack like that off for a day or two.”

“We’ve got ten hours,” says Kane. He turns to me. “Markus. Do you think you can pull that off again?”

I shake my head. The well of energy I thought was bottomless is not so deep as I imagined. I still have a lot of energy left by conventional measures but not enough to defeat another S-class monster.

Kane turns to the remaining adventurers. “It wouldn’t be fair to risk these adventurers’ lives if we simply don’t have enough firepower. We’re going to have to wait for reinforcements from other guilds, and that won’t happen for another few hours.” He turns to his guild, Dungeons Solutions UK.

“All right! We’ve cleared the first floor, but we need to retreat for now. Glenia, Servan, you take the back point for our exit!”

“If Dungeon Solutions is pulling out,” says Carl Stevenson, the leader of the Blue Dryads, “We need to as well. I heard that the Green Blazes and the Rocking Shooters are coming to help us.”

“Okay,” I say. “I’ll cover the retreat for our guild.”

“Thanks,” says Carl.

I know that, somewhere in this dungeon, Alice is waiting. I don’t know what she’s doing but I do know that she’s in here.

But for now I won’t be able to advance without risking the lives of dozens of adventurers.

Our total casualty number is thirty-five dead. Those injured are easily healed, but once an adventurer dies, they’re dead for good.

Thirty-five casualties and we just cleared the first floor! This is some serious action.

I find that my entire body is covered in sweat. Not only was the Jungle hot and humid, but I was nervous as well. Understandably so, where more than thirty people died in less than an hour.

Soon, every adventurer is accounted for outside the portal. Everyone looks haggard. The portal has been measured at six floors, each one more difficult than the last.

There’s no way we can clear this portal before it prolapses.

“I have an idea,” I say, to Carl. “Can we encase this portal in some sort of box? We might be able to at least buy ourselves some time.”

Carl seems to think for a moment. “If we can stall for two days, the British government may be able to get their hands on some Striker missiles.” He turns to the portal. “That’s it. We’re calling in the construction crew.”

I turn to the gathered adventurers. At that moment, the Green Blazes guild comes around the corner. I know the Rocking Shooters are not far behind.

“How many conjurers do we have?” I ask, raising my voice so that everyone can hear.

The group quiets down. I must command some serious respect if I’m able to quiet a group of adventurers who have just been through trauma. I clear my throat.

“We’re going to encase the portal in a box to buy us time for the government to get some missiles,” I say.

Kane leans close to me and whispers in my ear. “Those missiles cost over a billion pounds each, and they’re made with super-rare materials. I doubt the government will be able to secure more than three.”

Well, this sucks. I also realize how lucky I was to see the use of a missile that expensive. Considering the damage the balrog could have done, it was a good exchange, but still.

We might be screwed.

Derwyn approaches me with his spear behind his arm. “I’ll gather as many conjurers here as I can,” he says. “I’ll also call for some non-adventuring conjurers to help produce material.”

“I can get the government to help as well,” says Carl. “If they bring out the big equipment, we may be able to isolate the portal much sooner.”

“Let’s get to work,” I say.

I know my artificial limits, but if things get down to the wire, I might break them. It remains to be seen if I will need to.

In the time we were in the portal, news crews arrived. They approach the adventurers and stick microphones in their faces.

Derwyn shakes his head. “I don’t do well with press,” he says.

“Neither do I,” I say.

Tonan and Jozunen approach me from where they had been waiting outside the portal.

“Markus,” says Tonan. “If you wish we can use our comrades to bring assistance.”

“Do it,” I say.

Tonan bows. “As you wish,” he says.

A lot of things are moving at once. But the thing I’m most worried about is Alice. She is most definitely somewhere inside that portal.

I wait around for half an hour while hundreds of personnel arrive at the portal in the park. There are non-adventuring conjurers, law enforcement, and even a couple of tanks.

Several shipping containers are trucked onto the grass. Workers begin to cut them up in preparation for covering the portal.

The sixth S-class portal ever opened is not going to play easy on us.

Note:

It's almost time for arc two! The way I'm writing this, each arc will contain a self-referencing story, sort of like a new book but not exactly.