The Lesser One Arc 2 Version 2 Chapter 12: Fall

Fall

“The spirit rings are yours.” Carl stands in front of me. All the other adventurers are watching me with keen eyes.

“Okay. I’ll take them.” I sit down next to the carcasses of the monsters. Two spirit rings, of about five hundred years, rise out of the bodies. The rings are bright orange, filled with intricate runes and symbols. They rotate with a pulsating rhythm. Both flow through the air and stop above me, aligning above my head. They surround me. With a pop they are absorbed into my body.

I flex my hand. Spirit rings, besides giving general level-ups, also convey the soul of the creature they used to inhabit.

Sage. What were those things?

Silicate constructs. Sage’s voice is neutral, and I can’t tell anything about her emotional state. They are of a race known as the Arkhari.

I nod, flexing my hand again. A knife pops out of my knuckles. “Whup.” It shimmers with an otherworldly radiance. “I guess I know what powers they gave me.” I look at Carl and the other adventurers. “Um, thanks. We should probably get going.”

Carl points behind me. “Are you going to keep that around?”

I turn and face the golem I summoned just moments before. It is formed out of steel, with large plates on its shoulders that are painted army green. Its eyes are bright red. It is staring at me with a particular intensity.

“Um, I guess?” I tilt my head. “Hi. Do you understand me?”

The golem grunts, knelling down.

“Okay then.” I hold out my hand. “Are you a denizen of the Wales Portal?”

The golem nods.

Carl and Richard look at each other. “I guess we can use all the help we can get.”

We spend about ten minutes to gather up the dead adventurers and prepare their bodies for extraction. When everything is taken care of, we continue deeper into the dungeon. We reach the stairs without any more losses. B-class dungeons generally have at least four stages, known as “floors.” No one knows why dungeons are structured like this.

We reach the second floor. It is comprised of a number of catwalks that overhang a deep, bottomless pit. The air crackles with electricity.

Several metallic winged beasts swoop down from the catwalks above. They screech, sending visible shock waves through the air.

The ranged adventurers start firing. Tia pulls out a bow and shoots down two enemies in two shots. Her arrows are made of hardened ice. The monsters scream, spiraling down into the nothingness beneath the catwalks.

About a dozen more flying mechanical birds swirl around us. One bird swoops down and grabs an adventurer, a healer type. The adventurer falls off the catwalk. As she falls, her screams echo through the gigantic room.

“Maintain formation!” Carl and several tanks form a ring in the middle of the catwalk. “Protect the ranged members! Fire at will!”

Several mage-type adventurers open fire on the monsters. The monsters swirl around the catwalks, dragging their talons through the metal. More of them appear in the distance. There are a swarm of them flying around us.

The golem I summoned smacks a bird out of the sky with its open palm. The bird slams into the catwalk, tearing up the metal. The sound of sundering steel reverberates. The golem leaps off the catwalk and starts swinging along the other bridges. It plucks a bird out of the air and smashes it into another.

The party’s tank-types have formed a protective circle around the more vulnerable members. All of the adventurers with ranged capabilities are firing as fast as they can.

A bird dives straight for the circle. Talons out, it slams into the wall of shields. The line of tank types buckles, but holds. Several adventurers stab the beast with spears. Metal grates against metal. The bird disengages, pulling away with a number of spears lodged it its armor.

The catwalk groans. Bolts pop out of the railings.

Carl seems to be the first to notice what is happening. “Hold on! We’re falling!” The catwalk lists. Adventurers start sliding across the floor. Some of them grapple for handholds on the railings.

I start to slip. I think fast. There has to be a way to catch everyone. A net? Glue? Rope? Think, think!

Several adventurers fall off the edge of the buckling platform. They scream as they fall—I can’t save them. My feet can’t seem to find purchase. I start speeding up, heading for the edge of the void. I scabble at the smooth flooring.

I lose my grip and fall. I conjure a parachute. It doesn’t open, and ropes tangle my arms. I can’t move. I start speeding up.

I land on top of something soft. It’s feathery, but not made of feathers. I open my eyes—I am riding on top of a gigantic moth. There are dozens of them flying around the catwalks. It seems that most of the adventurers have been caught.

I breathe a sigh of relief. My heart is pounding out of my chest. I don’t know who saved us, but I am eternally grateful.

The biggest moth of the group flies towards me. Mandrake is riding it. He waves, and his moth comes beside mine.

“I made it.” He extends his arm. “I knew you would have some trouble. I left a familiar to keep track of you. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, I don’t. You saved us all.”

Five minutes later the entire party is standing on a stable portion of the maze. Even though the drop is still visible, a gaping maw of blackness, I feel comfortable enough to not be afraid. Carl and Richard are speaking to Mandrake. I walk up to him.

Carl has his arms crossed. “I never imagined the Royal Gable would come save us.”

“It’s been a while since I last was referred to as that.” Mandrake turns to me. “Hello, Markus.”

“What’s a Royal Gable?”

“It means I’m the Queen’s personal spirit wielder. I’m sorry I never told you.”

“Wow. That’s actually pretty cool.” I look at the rest of the adventurers, who are gathering their strength. “Are you going to stick with us for the rest of the dungeon?”

Mandrake looks to Carl and Richard. “Do you mind?”

“Of course not! You’re the best dungeoneer in the kingdom!”

You learn new things every day, I suppose. I smile at Mandrake. “I’m going to forgive you for not telling me this. But at the same time, I’m probably going to need to call in some favors.”

“You do you, kid.” Mandrake looks at the assembled adventurers. Some of them appear star-struck. “Come on, lads! We’re off!”

The group of adventurers starts towards the staircase to the next floor. We cross several more yawning chasms bridged by thin catwalks, but we aren’t attacked again.

We reach the stairs to level three. They open onto a deep, endless green field. Apple trees are dotted across the landscape. I approach one—and find that the fruits are actually a mix between bananas and dragon fruit. I reach out to take one.

“I wouldn’t, kid.” Mandrake appears next to me. “That fruit is formulated for a metabolism alien to yours. You don’t know what it can do to you.”

“So it’s poisonous?”

“Yes.” Mandrake slaps a piece of the fruit from the hands of another young adventurer. She jumps in surprise.

Carl cups his hands to his mouth. “Don’t eat the fruit! You know dungeon protocol!”

We continue underneath the boughs of the fruit trees. Soon we reach the crest of a low, rolling hill. At the edge is a dilapidated castle.

Mandrake holds his hand out. Carl and Richard stop the adventurers.

“Looks like a sub-dungeon.” Carl turns to Richard and the two of them discuss something. “We’re going to—”

There is a screech, a mixture of the hoot of a monkey and the baying of a hyena.

“Goblins!” Carl and the Blue Dryads form a shield block. Dungeon Solutions UK breaks away and forms on the flanks. We ready for attack.

A rolling wave of bodies spills out of the castle. The stench is strong enough that I can smell them from all the way across the valley.

“They’re just goblins!” Carl holds steady. Several dozen pikes are lowered between the tanks’ shield wall.

Two gigantic goblin monsters rise from inside the castle. They lumber behind the wave of goblins.

Tia and Sebastian take their stances next to me. I hold my drawstring back, with an explosive arrow knocked. I breathe out.

“Fire!” Carl sweeps his hand downwards. All the ranged adventurers let loose their missiles. There must be at least a hundred goblins. The ranged attacks do almost nothing.

My golem rushes out from behind out lines and smashes into the mob of goblins. The goblins clamber all over it, stabbing it with their swords, biting at it with their teeth. The golem throws them off. It engages with one of the large trolls. Throwing a punch, it knocks the first troll off its feet, sending it flying into the wall of the castle. Stone cracks. Blood flies.

The wave of smaller goblins hits our lines. Some goblins impale themselves on our pikes. Others climb over the dead bodies of their comrades and overrun the shield wall. The fighting devolves into heavy melee combat. With a flick, I pull out the arm blade that the spider spirit circle just gave me. Sebastian and Tia stand by my side. Tia holds an ice sword in her hands. Sebastian has several small black balls in his hand, in between his fingers. He tosses one and it explodes, ripping open a goblin’s head. Gore splatters everywhere. Spirit rings rise from the battlefield like a dance of deathly fireflies. They’re all less than twenty year rings, but they are still beautiful in a morbid way.

A goblin warrior, appearing a bit more powerful than the others, approaches me. Its eyes lock onto mine. The rest of the battle fades away.

The goblin chief charges me. I duck, slide, and run my blade through its side. Blood flows. The goblin chief, without hesitating, swings its heavy club at me. I block it with my arm—the same one that was broken in my battle with Neo. Somehow, my reinforcement of my bone structure has hardened it to be able to withstand attacks. I push the club away and stab the goblin chief in the stomach. The chief grins, spits in my eyes, and then pulls away. He drags two blades from sheaths on his hips. Twirling them like an acrobat, he approaches me.

“How much punishment can you take?” I shake out my arm. I start circling the monster.

The goblin chief laughs, points, and then backs away. Two smaller goblins leap towards me.

I punch one goblin in the stomach and slice open the other’s neck. Twisting my body, I check to see where the goblin chief has gone.

He’s nowhere to be seen. The battle is dying down. We seem to have won it—not without casualties, but we are in a B-class dungeon. There’s no way we could have avoided them.

I look over the devastated battlefield. Several dead adventurers lie amongst perhaps a hundred goblin bodies. Spirit rings are floating everywhere. The technicians of the party start using their vacuums to suck up the rings. They’re all junk level, and only fit for making spirit cheese.

Carl walks up to me. “Your golem really made quick work of those gigantic trolls.”

I look over to my golem and see that he’s standing over the bodies of the two giant trolls. “Well, yeah. I guess.” I look back at Carl. “Who’s getting their rings?”

“I would say you, but you’ve already gotten your allotment of rings. I say we invoke the sharing principle here.” Carl turns to two adventures who are standing next to each other. “Rye. Billy. You two absorb the troll rings.” Carl turns back to me. “We’re not done with this dungeon yet. Stay sharp.”

I feel eyes watching me. Familiar eyes. I think to myself that Mandrake probably isn’t the only being who came in here without our knowledge.