Chapter 16: Torix Worm, of Darkhill
I gasped, “Could you let me down?”
He tilted his head, “I shall whenever you cease that annoying aura of yours, whatever it is.”
My eyes widened, and I shut Oppression down. He waved a hand, and I fell, collapsing to my knees. Like tiny eyes, the lich squinted his glowing fireballs. He kept his gaze steady, his eyes piercing. I couldn’t hold eye contact, but his glare burrowed into the back of my head regardless.
Finally looking away, Torix pulled an ancient tome from his robes and opened it. A quick flash of umbral mana later, and he cast a spell. Two shadows pulled at my arms, holding me up. He waved a hand,
“Enough chatter of comfort. There is a marker of Alfred on you or within you. Now, you may believe that I don’t feel its presence or lack proof of its existence. I assure you, I am well armed with the required knowledge. You may choose to unveil what you have, or I will unveil it away from you.”
His eyes flashed bright, “Whether that be via interrogation or dissection, you shall decide.”
Still reeling, my head rolled before my armor spit out Alfred’s diary. One of the shadows caught the journal. It leaned onto one knee and held it out to its master. The lich put his glowing book in his robe before picking up the ragged journal,
“Ah, that was simpler than I imagined it would be. Do stay as I read this ragged tissue’s contents. Perhaps I may even thank you for it. Now, let’s see what lies therein. Hm, it does appear to be his handwriting…It…This-”
He covered his mouth. He took a step back, and his hands shook in place. He peered around as if looking for something before he fumbled with his bony fingers. His eyes dimmed after a few minutes, and he finished the book with a quick snap of the cover. His eyes fizzled out before he hugged the journal to his chest.
A tense silence, thicker than oatmeal, smothered me. I stayed silent, not really knowing what was going through the lich’s mind. His eyes flared back to life as he stared off into the distance. He spoke in a small voice,
“My son…My only son. He’s gone.”
The pain pierced out in waves from the lich. Undead or not, the emotion was real and palpable and genuine. I didn’t really know what to say, but I felt like I had to say something.
“I’m…I’m really sorry for your loss.”
Tenderly and with care, he moved the journal into his robes before interlocking his hands behind himself once more. His composure reconstructed, and he returned to his previous self. The shadows waned beside me until they disappeared. I stood on wobbling feet.
Torix’s tone shot out like ice, “I’ll assume you’re the one that killed him? And don’t attempt to lie to me. It will only dig this pit you lie in further down, and it lies six feet underground already.”
I gritted my teeth before nodding.
The lich trembled in place, weighing different options in his head. He turned his glance up before giving himself a slow nod. He centered onto me once more,
“Based…Based on the contents of the journal, his death was a release, given the mad ramblings at the end of this document. Tell me, did you stop this-this hivemind he called Baldag-Ruhl, of Many?'”
I nodded once more. Torix sat down on an umbral blot of mana, a living shadow holding him up. He shook his hands as if getting water off them. He steepled his fingers, keeping himself tranquil despite the squall of grief writhing under his surface. Torix offered me a dark mana chair before gesturing to it,
“Tell me everything you know, from beginning to end.”
Despite the commanding authority, the icy edge in his voice faded some. This was still no request; it was a command. I complied, sitting down. I spoke for a while, trying to explain who I was and why I was in the cave to begin with.
It took a while, but I told him the story of how Baldag-Ruhl tried turning me into his armor. The riftkeeper ended up giving me my current form. I kept talking about how Alfred stayed committed even after going mad, and how really, Torix’s son was the one who actually stopped Baldag-Ruhl, not me.
And to my surprise, the lich listened. He kept listening, in fact. So much so that I found myself gushing. I kept discussing what had happened to me, grateful and desperate for an outlet. Anything or anyone that would give me an ear, I needed it. It just so happened this undead lich I just met happened to be a great listener.
He gave me affirmations as I unloaded all of my problems. My speaking turned to rambling, and I couldn’t stop myself. I needed someone to talk with, and this ancient necromancer offered insights and repose. I latched onto that serenity, going on about how demanding BloodHollow had been. I talked about how lonely I’d been since the system’s changes.
I kept going until I discussed unformulated issues. For instance, I went on about trying to find Michael and Kelsey and how I didn’t see it happening anytime soon. I even chatted about my armor and how it horrified me. Torix didn’t rush me or seem perturbed with my situation. He showed no surprise and stayed calm. His only real reactions were when I mentioned the slice in dimensions, or at least that’s what I guessed it was.
What mattered was that since the system started, Torix was the first person I felt comfortable with. He didn’t make me feel like a freak. The guy just acted like I was normal. Considering how abnormal my situation was, I clung to that without really meaning too. That kept me going until I ran out of steam.
A quick silence passed over us, and Torix deliberated. He turned a palm to me, “It seems as though your journey’s been long and hard, young one. I added to that with my minions, so do accept my apologies. You’ll find them plague you or your hometown above no longer. I merely wished to search out my son. This journal is his, as it carries his mana and handwriting. I also believe you’ve told me what you believe is the truth.”
As an aside, he chimed, “And those civilians above, they’ve been treated humanely, so worry not.”
I believed him more than I should’ve. The lich crossed a leg, leaning back and steepling his fingers. He oozed dominance and poise before sighing, “What would you have me do to you? On the one hand, you freed my son from madness, a madness not even I could fix. On the other hand, you’ve killed him, my only flesh and blood left.”
I fumbled my words, “I…I don’t know. I-I never had a son. I am someone’s son, but he’s a jackass, so…Please don’t kill me, I guess?”
The lich stared with unchanging eyes before bursting into laughter. He replied, “You’ve grown rather accustomed to death. To be so casual in the face of it…Even as a lich, I’m impressed. Who are you, really then?”
“What do you mean? I told you. I’m Daniel Hillside.”
Torix shook his head, “No, I mean who are you really. You can’t have already reached level eighty eight in less than a month after Schema arrived. Not for a new species without guidance.”
I frowned, “I’m not lying about missing the tutorial.”
Torix scoffed, “You expect me to believe that you, a human, killed a ruhl? A genuine ruhl.”
I threw my hands up, “I thought you said you believed me?”
“I believe you haven’t lied to me. Whether you believe the truth or an approximation of it is something else entirely.”
“I already told you, your son is the one that really killed him. I’m just the one who followed through with his master plan. The reason I succeeded and he didn’t was luck. That’s it.”
Torix leaned over and tapped one of my shoulder spikes, “And this, this is supposed to be The Harbinger of Cataclysm? Quite the extravagant title for someone who has yet to reach even level one hundred.”
I crossed my arms, “I do well for myself. You know, considering.”
“Hm…Would you mind verifying all of this for me?”
My eyes widened, “You want me to go back to BloodHollow?”
“Yes.”
I shook my hands, “I really, really don’t want to go back there. I just spent the first few weeks in the system stuck in that hellhole. I just got out, and I haven’t been able to look for my friends at all.”
Torix lowered his gaze, “But you’re certain there’s proof of this all occurring?”
I waved my hands, starting to ramble, “Yeah, for sure.”
“Perhaps I shall go and inspect it myself to verify the validity of your claims. Should you be lying, then you understand what will become of you.”
I waved my hands about, kind of nervous, “Then it looks like I’ll be fine. I mean, if you think about it, this armor is your son’s legacy. Killing me is like killing the last piece remaining of Alfred. Wouldn’t it be more fitting for your son to be remembered for this feat of, uhm, magic? You know, to be remembered for his sacrifice?”
Torix turned a palm to me, “My son was a prodigy. While not gifted in combat, he showed an intuition for rune making that far exceeds my own. In that area, he was a well of limitless potential. He would have been an even greater sorcerer than I, if his character was better suited for it.”
His tone grew wistful, “So dying like this isn’t something I wish to glorify. Rather, I’d keep this hidden. For now. In that manner, it is a shame beyond measure to uncover the situation as is. I searched for him for so long. I finally found traces of his mana signature on some backwater, newly systemized world. I come hither, and guess what I uncover?”
“Uh, me?”
Torix raised his hands, “Not at all. Alfred’s previous dungeon warped elsewhere as I traveled to it. It disappeared, and a century passed. I couldn’t find a trace of him, not until something strange happened here. A surge of energy pulsed out, unlike any I’ve ever registered, and on this backwater planet. I would have thought nothing of it, just assuming it was another anomaly. But, you see, at it’s very center was the slightest, familiar trace of mana.”
Torix glared at me, “My son’s mana, the will of his mind manifested.”
Torix glanced off at the vast cavern, “I hired a blackmarket warping specialist and arrived soon after. From that dungeon, I uncovered two humans. I interrogated them. It wasn’t difficult learning what I needed to know.”
He found David and Stacy. I grimaced. Torix brushed off my concerns with the wave of his hand,
“I’ve done nothing permanent to them. They are fine. Now, continuing my story, I followed the trail those two indicated, and I found a peculiar ability used within this forest. There existed a circle of dead fauna and a pair of stomping tracks.”
He met my eyes, “Here I thought a scavenger had cleared the dungeon and killed my son. I came down, hunting for the user of the ability. I plotted several traps, such as searching homes and threatening the populace. I wouldn’t kill anyone for fear of the resulting bounty of course, but my ploy worked well.”
I leaned forward, “Damn. That was bait, huh?”
Torix swiped his hand, “It was a simple and easy plot to enact, so I did so. You killed many of my minions, so I pursued you personally. I found the scavenger’s bodies and the dungeon below the sewers. I arrived after you killed the ogre I enchanted here. I watched you kill these monsters below effortlessly.”
He pinched his fingers together, leaning to me, “You, an unknown presence at such a low level. I’d never seen anything quite like it. If what you’ve told me is true, you showcase potential. Perhaps a mountain of it, given time. The issue therein lies in your position. Being an unknown and so young means you will be killed soon.”
Sweat crawled down my back as Torix gestured at me, “You also have other traits that make you targetable. For instance, that…Blood Magic you have. If one wished, they could hold you down and take pounds of your flesh, using it for mana. You would become a mana battery, a fate far worse than death.”
Even more cold sweat fell from me as he pointed at my feet, “And that armor of yours…I’ve never seen anything like it. I myself am tempted to run experiments on it, and I’m rather benevolent compared to many. My kindness is why that armor remains grafted to you instead of being peeled off as we speak.”
Remembering the feelers under my armor, I shivered. Torix stood up, “Don’t worry, child. I listened to you, and I do believe you. I will do my due diligence to make sure what you’ve said is true, of course. All that being said, I shall take my leave. I do wish you luck on your journey.”
An idea popped in my head, “Wait one minute.”
The lich tilted his head, “Hmm?”
“I think we can make a deal.”
Torix scoffed, “You? Make a deal with me? Oh, this is going to be entertaining to the utmost.”
I stood up with him, “Ok, so the thing is, you have this undead army, right?”
“Indeed.”
“So you could find my friends just as you found me?”
“Easily.”
I turned my palm to him, “How about you help me with my friends, and I’ll help you understand BloodHollow, eh?”
Torix gawked at me, stunned to silence. He let out a slight snicker before it turned into full on cackling. He shook his head, “That was certainly…something. What could you offer me in exchange? Undying loyalty? I have quite a few minions that exceed you in more than one domain.”
I raised a hand, “But none of them were made with the ritual.”
Torix withdrew a tad, taken aback, “Hah. That is certainly true. Why should I make a deal with you instead of simply forcing you to obey me? I am more than able to, I assure you.”
I fumbled, “Uhm…I don’t know. Maybe it would be better for your experiments if I was willing?”
Torix deadpanned, “You’re insane, you know that?”
I let my hands flop against my sides, “Look man, I’m desperate here. You heard me earlier. I’m going to be by myself for a long time if this doesn’t work out.”
Torix gave me a nod, “I do require intricate knowledge of the comings and goings of my son’s demise. You’re the foremost expert of what occurred, so enlisting you may help me…I accept this little arrangement of yours.”
I gaped, “You’re serious?”
His eyes flashed, “Oh, dead serious.”
I raised a hand, “Cause you’re an undead, right?”
Torix remained still for a few seconds before pinching the bridge of his nose, “By Schema, who have I partnered with, exactly?”
I stood up, banging my fists together, “Me. I’ll take the deal.”
The lich interlocked his hands behind himself once more, “Well then, that’s a wise decision. Now, explain how your armor works, and all you know of it.”
I explained how Baldag-Ruhl’s spell worked to the best of my knowledge. I described the walls of runes, miles long and utterly intricate. I described how I could show him the tunnels, and how it would make an excellent evil lair for him. He even chuckled a few times. By now, I was warming up the cold, unfeeling lich. The guy had a panache to him.
When I finished, he gestured to me, “I’ll assume you’ve marked BloodHollow down on your minimap?”
I brought it up, “No, but I can. I’ve visited the cave before.”
“Good. Send me a screenshot of it and the surrounding area. I will download it then go towards this dungeon ahead of you. As for your end of the deal, simply come forthwith to BloodHollow within the next few days.” Torix gestured to our surroundings, “You may finish your dungeon delving here and get your dungeon core. I know it’s a high value item for you at the moment, and I wouldn’t want to impede your progress.”
He opened his status, and a request from him appeared.
Torix Worm, of Darkhill | level 1,236 | Friend Request | Do you accept? Y/N?
I leaned back from my status, “What in the hell? Y-Your over level one thousand?”
Torix leaned back, “Oh yes, of course. You’re just now entering the system, so you lack perspective. I am your first dose of said perspective, and allow me to add to it. My level is somewhat notable, but nothing worthy of reverence. You’ve simply seen very little of Schema-owned space. Know that you are strong for your level, but realize that there are beings of immeasurable power spread out across the stars. Many are much more powerful than I.”
Torix stared down with pity, “You are a desirable treat for them. If they find you, they will violate you in ways you cannot even imagine.”
I shivered before gulping. Knowing the necromancer hadn’t turned me inside out, I smiled up at Torix, “Then I suppose I should thank you for taking me under your wing. I really appreciate it.”
Torix stood taller as I said that. He spoke with a touch of pride in his voice, “I suppose it is enviable to have one willing to learn and listen. It is quite satisfying to enlighten others.” Torix waved a hand, generating a portal leading about two hundred feet up to the suburbia above. Torix gave me a nod of acknowledgement,
“Good luck with your dungeon.”
I nodded, “You too.”
He walked through the portal, and it snapped shut, leaving me alone. Accepting the friend request, I let out a gulpful of air, pleased and peachy about how that all worked out. It seemed too good to be true that he’d help me out like that. I could learn from Torix and get a grip on what was going on with Schema.
Considering the resources at his disposal, finding Michael and Kelsey would be a breeze. And the lich was above level twelve hundred to boot. He could kill me with just a thought. The sheer, staggering potential he carried left me humbled. Having him more on my side was amazing, even if only a little.
In a way, it gave me a goal too. It would take forever before I could stand up against him, and the amount of levelling required defied convention. Thinking once more about how I’d level, I looked at the next stone doorway in this dungeon. It held the same core slot as the previous one, flowing marks making the door stand out.
Placing the ogre’s core into the slot, I found the doors open up. As it did, the entire area changed. Giant pistons pumped scalding steam, with bronze metal plated over every surface. Walking onto an industrial factory’s catwalk, I explored the next section of this layered dungeon.
Pipelines littered every surface, the steampunk aesthetic drawing my eye. Giant vats of molten metal poured out into molds, making parts for machines. Those machines rested on conveyors, leading towards tunnels of metal. I furrowed my brow as my eyes caught up with the change in scenery. Even from a cursory glance, the progression made no sense whatsoever.
Based on everything I knew, it seemed like Schema organized the cracks of the dimensions however it had to. That resulted in chaotic mishmashes like this. While confusing at times, I couldn’t help but get swept away a bit in the excitement. This kind of variety meant each dungeon carried limitless potential, and that put a weight off my chest. I wasn’t going to be sitting in underground caverns each and every time.
Sometimes, I’d get surprises like this. Letting myself get swept up in the moment, I let myself run wild a bit. My feet clunked with each step as I bolted down the catwalk. I passed hissing steam and pumping machines, and I dove deeper into this labyrinth of bronze. Further down, a machine with two sword arms dropped down from a pipeline above. It had three wheels for legs, and no face. A few carvings on it mirrored a greek mural.
I inspected it.
Trolm Guard Bot | Level 31 – A guard bot made for defending trolm factories. Basic and easily dispatched, this sturdy design is a result of the trolms themselves. A race of evolved trolls, trolms are a hardy, powerful race with intricate technical knowledge. With powerful regeneration, tremendous physical stature, and mastery of basic machinery, they are to be feared.
But their guards are not.
Reading a history of the bot reminded me of diving into the lore of some games I played. I couldn’t help but smile as the ball of bronze rolled my way. For once, I chose to go into a dungeon. Instead of some harrowing trial, this turned into a fun adventure. Knowing it stood no chance, I charged towards the bot, meeting it head on.
Swiping my arms diagonally, I struck the swords at an angle, breaking them. I raised my knee, and the bot met it. It crushed against me. Tumbling back, it slowed down while I rushed forward. I turned my torso sideways then kicked the robot with a sling of momentum. The robot flew off the catwalk, falling into a machine’s grinding gears below. It crumpled like a tin can.
Another bot fell from above, and it slashed its swords. I darted away, evading the slashes. It stuck with a routine pattern, each attack at a set interval. I waited, getting the timing before grabbing an arm midswing. The other blade came down, but I tilted my shoulder up. The edge skidded down my shoulder and into the metal railing.
I pulled its other arm, and it pulled apart, leaving it armless. I lifted a hand up before squashing it like an amber, metal tomato. More guards arrived, and I grinned.
I decimated them. I crushed guard after guard for over an hour. Less like a dungeon and more like a playground, I relished in my improved strength, appreciating it. For the first time since systemization, the future excited me. After a while of destroying bots, I ran into the boss of this factory.
Standing at the center of a circular platform, a spider robot waited for me. It walked on four limbs and held weapons in its other hands. A giant eyeball centered on me, metal folds interlacing as it squinted. The blue iris and pupil turned red, and it raised its armed hands.
Knowing it didn’t outlevel me, I stampeded towards it like an angry elephant. I dodged one of its sword limbs before grabbing a leg. I jerked with explosive strength, ripping the leg ripped off. My legs needed a moment to recover, so I used its torn leg to block a rain of swords, hammers, and saws. Dented and falling apart, I tossed the ripped limb at the eye of the creature.
It raised its four weaponized arms to block. As it did, I dashed forwards. The lobbed metal bounced off its weapons, and the beast peered at me as I swung at it. Throwing my fist like a baseball, I shattered the glassy exterior protecting its eye. Cracks radiated up the brittle glass, and its vision deteriorated.
It swung at random afterwards, and I kept my distance, waiting for a time to strike. A few minutes passed and the joints began glowing from building heat. It paused mid attack, steam billowing from its robotic innards. Crawling on top of it, I gripped its arm joints to get on top of it.
I gripped my hands against its bronze body and pulled apart. The metal screamed and crumpled as I strained with effort. Taking a few breaths, I caught my breath as it cooled itself off. Rearing its limbs back, the spider bot swung them down at me. I fell into the opening I just sheared. Tearing wires and pipes apart, I jerked and slammed my fists in every direction.
Oil splurted everywhere as I gouged out its insides. When I forced myself out of the robot’s eye, it stopped moving. In a less disturbing manner than eating flesh, my armor gobbled up the robot. The armor over my skin outdid bronze, apparently, so I just waited until the bot’s body was devoured. While I waited, I checked out my status screen. There was another perk from where my armor ate another core.
[Smart(Intelligence of 10 or more) – Your intelligence is good. Doubles effective memory.]
[Flexible(Dexterity of 10 or more) – Your dexterity is good. Doubles flexibility bonus.]
[Perceptive(Perception of 10 or more) – Your perception is good. Doubles sensory bonuses.]
I was almost out of perks at this point. I figured I’d be listening to quite a few lessons from Torix, so I selected Smart. It seemed like a, well, smart decision. Terrible jokes aside, I waited for a sudden shift. I didn’t really notice anything, but I also wasn’t straining my memory yet either.
Wanting to feel Smart’s effects, I tried recollecting some childhood events, and they remained as foggy as ever. I hoped the perk helped forming memories more than past ones as I closed my status. Reaching another doorway at the end of the bot’s room, I found another slot for a dungeon core.
I couldn’t read the glyphs above, but it didn’t matter. I already knew the gist of what it was saying. Having a handle on the situation, I put another core into the doorway. When it opened, it acted the same as BloodHollow’s gateway. Warping reality, these doors opened to a ladder and manhole. Bewildered by the view, I put my head through the doorway, and gravity shifted.
On the one hand, my body pulled down. On the other hand, my head weighed down in a different direction. Taking the next step, I grabbed the ladder so I wouldn’t fall. Gravity finished changing as I climbed through the doorway. I crawled my way out the dungeon, the warp snapping shut behind me. I blinked a few times while holding the ladder in the sewer tunnel.
Man, dungeons weirded me out.
I shook off the surreal feeling before getting out of the sewers. Pulling my head out into some fresh air, the streets remained dead silent. I hopped out before sprinting towards a backyard. Hiding behind fences, I opened my minimap. I was right where I thought I was. Just like Torix, I did some due diligence myself.
I ran towards the place where the skeletons piled people together. I found no bodies or blood lingering around. Still not convinced, I turned to the nearby houses. People closed their doors, but the broken windows still whistled as wind leaked into each house. Freshly broken glass sheened on the porches and yards while I approached.
Peering in, a few people gawked at me in horror with make-shift spears or kitchen knives in hand.
One tried poking me, but I slapped the blade aside. Knowing Torix could’ve let only one family go, I investigated three other homes, finding familiar faces in each of them. Torix made good on his word, so I would do the same. Knowing where to go next, I sprinted back towards BloodHollow yet again, dreading my quick return to the dim, dank caves.
Keeping my pace rapid, I darted over fallen logs and charged through vined bushes. The faster I handled Torix’s demands, the faster I’d find Michael and Kelsey. My minimap’s direct route also made my return simple. Those thoughts pressing me onward, I sprinted like a man running from a tsunami. It was mostly for fun.
I could, so I figured, why not?
Twenty minutes later, a sunset signalled the day’s end. I reached the caves that trapped me for two weeks. The opening changed some, showing ornate pillars and the otherside of the Sentinel’s doorway. A walkway led down to those doors, torches lit along set intervals leading to BloodHollow. Trotting down those steps, I got to the entrance.
The doorway opened, and I winced as recognizable darkness showed itself once more. Bats flashed their fangs at me, and the Sentinel peered down,
“Know that should you enter this place, you will not be permitted to leave until…Wait, you’re back? Already?”
I grimaced at my surroundings, “Yeah. Unfortunately for me.”
The Sentinel slammed his spear down, the doorway closing behind me, “It’s unfortunate for us both. You’ll be permitted to leave whenever you wish, preferably sooner rather than later.”
Letting his jabs slide, I passed by him towards the marker on my map. I didn’t have time for banter. Torix had a little icon for his name and everything now. Taking an hour of running and killing bats, I found signs of the lich’s presence everywhere.
Undead raided the cavern from head to toe. Creatures of darkness walked while swollen zombies shambled in all directions. These zombies carried enormous, bulbous sacks of bioluminescent material. They lit the surroundings while undead knights ran their bony hands along the walls.
Nearing Torix himself, shadow monsters created patches of darkness in the zombie’s blue glow. Undead Korgah’s sat as guardians, decimating the local bat populace, one of the dragon-sized creatures holding a crimson bear in its maw. It chewed the bear to bits in two bites, tossing the entrails and organs into a pile of other corpses.
My armor trembled as I passed the bodies. A few of the undead knights took a dive in a nearby cyan pool, other knights watching the descent. These underlings hunted in every direction, and Torix kept them contained with ease. A bit disgusted, I approached the necromancer in the distance. Torix himself laid at the center of all this carnage. He ran his hands against the walls, looking for the runes I mentioned.
Walking up beside Torix, the lich murmured, “Hm, you work quickly. Excellent. Now, perhaps you may show me where these runes are?”
I nodded and ran towards one of the tunnel entrances. Torix followed behind me, riding on a ball of black he summoned in a second. We approached a tunnel where boulders piled high, interlacing with the wall. No transition exposed where these tunnels began and ended, masking them well. When we reached an entrance, Torix peered at it,
“So this is how that rift holder lived for so long. I must say, masking himself so utterly and by design alone…Impressive.”
I jumped onto a boulder, “You haven’t seen anything yet.”
We entered the tunnel and Torix’s jaw dropped. The necromancer marveled at each intricate and meticulous rune, peering at their depths. Torix stammered, “I…I don’t understand any of this. Is this an eldritch language, perhaps? It doesn’t match any linguistic pattern I’ve learned henceforth.”
Finding a marking that radiated curiosity, Torix murmured, “My son was able to read all of this?”
I nodded, “He could, but we’ll need to go deeper into the cave to see it all. This is a drop in the ocean.”
Torix scoffed, “There’s more than what’s present here?”
I smiled, “Oh, a lot more.”
We passed by several miles of the tunnel, Torix’s surprise mounting with each passing moment. It made the entire ritual take a step up in my mind. I knew it was impressive, yeah, but having this knowledgeable and ancient necromancer marvel with me…Well, it put the incantation into perspective.
After a half an hour of sprinting, we eventually reached the colosseum’s center. The bat’s already cleared out the bugs, revealing the majesty of the spell Baldag-Ruhl cast. I gestured at it,
“This is the culmination of your son’s work. He and Baldag-Ruhl created this…Whatever it is.”
Torix rubbed his hand against the wall, in awe at the complexity. He spoke with reverence, “To think my son had such an understanding of these markings. Perhaps you were right about your armor being his legacy. This…This is something I can take pride in. It’s something he would’ve relished doing.”
Torix’s eyes dimmed, “Perhaps…perhaps his life wasn’t as full of suffering as the journal indicated. I can only pray that is the case.”
I sat there waiting for him to finish his remembrances. After many minutes, he walked at his full height, no hunching whatsoever,
“I can gather the formatting of the spell, though I lack the insight to gather its context. Some of this is my son’s handwriting. You can tell by the curves, as they hold more flow to them than Baldag-Ruhl’s carvings…I wonder…Ah, ingenious. Bypassing the limitation of internal mana by drawing from dimensionsional space…But how could you control the energy, let alone form it?”
Torix peered around, “They-they used a blueprint of another’s soul for grounding the innate chaos of the working mana…I’ve no idea how. Color me surprised…And this, I can’t believe they used a weighting algorithm for displacing the interdimensional pressure, then correlated the flux in time with a quantum stabilizing function.”
I stayed quiet, not wanting to expose my immense ignorance. When Torix finished studying the runes, he put his hands on his hips, “This would take a thousand years to carve if you had a thousand people doing it, all without a moment’s rest. The hivemind handled the bulk of this project if I assume correctly?”
I pointed at a few of the bugs still lying around, “Yup. Those are his little minions.”
Torix pressed on his temples with his fingertips, “This hivemind was a prodigy all his own. It really was a ruhl.” Torix turned towards me, “And your armor is the product of all this. I would’ve assumed it would do more than that.”
I shrugged, “It can evolve. I think that’s the dealbreaker.”
The lich paced back and forth, “Ah yes, that is worthy of note. Precisely how much it evolves is the true question then, isn’t it? Tell me, how much mana is left before its next evolution?”
I checked, finding 30,000 from all the rats, bats, and machines I killed. I tapped my chestplate, “Pretty much two million. I have thirty thousand stacked up, but most of that came from the purple insect swarm.”
Torix continued, “Then, in order to understand your armor’s properties and the ritual’s full implications, our first objective is evolving this armor. That shall coincide with leveling you over a hundred. At that point, scavengers and bounty hunters will be less of a concern. Otherwise, I’ll need to guard you every second of every day.”
He waved a hand, “That will simply not do. During that time, I’ll inspect this ritual.”
I put my hands on my hips, “Any Ideas on how to gain those levels? Finding a difficult dungeon here is actually harder than the dungeons themselves.”
Torix raised a hand, “Not a usual problem, but one that is rectifiable no less. On my own planet, you’d find many dungeons, some harboring creatures over level one thousand.”
I raised an eyebrow, “So, what planet are you from?”
“Xanathar. It’s a peculiar world, tidally locked so habitable land is sparse. The weather is quite harsh as well. Perhaps you shall see it one day. Now-”
He pulled out his grimoire and used a magical incantation. The lines across the pages glowed a dimming black, one that siphoned light from our surroundings. After a few minutes of channeling, a portal appeared, wide and black and null. More like a void than an opening, Torix pointed at it,
“From this portal, my personal monsters will come. You can gain experience from killing them.”
I clasped my fists, “Alright. I’m always looking for a good fight.”
Torix gave me the look of a stern librarian, “That can be arranged quite easily. For instance, these creatures will be above your level, as that most efficiently grants you experience. You’re fine with the risk that entails?”
A part of me held onto some fear. I lifted my hands, and a part of me just let that fear go. My adrenaline spiked. The same part of me that liked boxing told me I enjoyed fighting like this too. In a way, I relished it. I peered between Torix and the portal,
“Yeah, I am.”
Torix clapped his hands once, “Quite the show of bravery and decisiveness. That is an excellent quality in any aspiring pupil. Now, it is time to test if it was truly bravery, or perhaps simply foolishness.”
From the portal, a howl like screaming children and the sloshing of torn organs echoed. My gaze hardened as a set of claws grasped at the portal. I leaned over while raising my hands. Torix raised a finger, lecturing at me,
“Now, Daniel, there is something to be said for joy in combat. That being said, I am of the opinion that the concept of a good fight doesn’t exist. There exists only slaughter. Hear me child, you can choose to slaughter or become the slaughtered.”
He eyed me, “In that manner, you embrace brutality or become the product of it. Tell me, will you become a monster, or will you be eaten by them?”
An eye the size of a dish plate opened inside the void. Streams of red came together into a blot of blood at its center. An amber iris opened from the red sphere, and a red pupil laid within it. The feral eye locked with mine. I riled myself up, tearing down the fear in me. Getting ahead now meant easy times later.
I banged my fists together like blocks of iron, speaking from a primordial place,
“I will be no monster, for I feast on them.”
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