Trent Boehm
patreon
Chapter 229 (Still needs editing, but am trying to post a couple more chapters over the next 24 hours so I'll get around to it after that :P)
🕑 Added 2024-01-21 09:22:05 +0000 UTCChapter 229
Captain Vros Kinal knelt on the outskirts of the forest clearing in full plate mail armor - the etched carving of a black sun embroidered on his breastplate. His pauldrons looked like they were aflame and caught in a moment of time from the way the metal was carved, and a long red cape flowed out behind him in the wind.
Unsheathing his silver-infused longsword forged specifically for killing vampires, picking up his kite shield, and lowering the visor of his plumed helmet, he raised a hand to give the signal. “Kill the natives, let none escape.”
Horns blew from all around the clearing, and many soldiers in armor just like him rushed the camps below.
The locals who’d been coming out of the dungeon or had been preparing to go in began to scream and shout in alarm - but they didn’t even have a chance before soldiers of The Empire of Dying Suns were upon them.
Captain Vros Kinal blurred forward down the hill, decapitating a young woman he thought to be a healer and then spearing another man through the heart with his blade. He parried two strikes - crushed a man’s knee with a side kick and disemboweled him all within a second’s time.
Guts spilled out onto the forest floor.
Locals from Panu were desperately trying to flee and started scattering upon seeing the drastically higher levels of the invaders, only to come face to face with another death squad of Rippenvire vampires. Steampunk guns mowed them down mercilessly with popping sounds of shots amidst horrified screams, vampiric hounds lacking fur and with split faces tore into the ambushed men and women, and the shrieking pleas for mercy were short lived.
Blood soaked the hillside moments later, and the final begging sobs came to an abrupt stop as the two invading parties stared at each other in front of the dungeon entrance.
Captain Vros Kinal nodded to the vampiric leader, and without another word - the two forces merged and started their trek into the tunnels. They had a common goal, and neither group would benefit from killing the other.
Unlike Rippenvire - the Empire of Dying Suns had been far more successful in leveling their members up over past months. Each of the three dozen elites from the empire’s death squad were above level 100, and they had a very specific vampire prince to put down for good this day.
It was time to knock out one of their biggest obstacles towards world domination - it was time to kill a World Boss apex ranker.
***
The third floor of Dungeon Petrus saw a couple more scenarios where Riven and his two stronger familiars or the skinwalkers had to step in, but otherwise the powerleveling group was doing very well. They were confident, sometimes too confident for their own good, but didn’t hesitate to throw themselves as hard as they could in order to gain experience.
Wave after wave, room after room, and with a few caches of loot to be had - they made their way all the way through the third floor until they hit a spot where a dungeon miniboss was present.
It was another beetle queen, though this one’s shell was covered in large spikes, and it took a lot of effort to kill it. When it eventually died, both Fay and Hakim were particularly rewarded by Elysium in way of prizes to each.
Fay was given a pair of enchanted hoop earrings that passively boosted her mana recovery and intelligence - while Hakim was given a pair of thick metal bracers that added to his strength and sturdiness. They weren’t anything overly special, but they were nonetheless good items to have.
The fourth floor was filled with traps, and surprisingly enough - large lakes of venomous aquatic rats with gills, webbed feet, and stingers at the ends of their tails. These particular rats lacked any fur and were accompanied often by their other, armored, land-dwelling rat brethren on the shorelines of vast chasms. The purple mutant humanoid handlers were also in abundance, often appearing with mages that used swamp spells like afflictions or plagues that did damage over time.
The healers were very much overtaxed by these, and the party often had to rest inbetween fights in order to make sure they could continue without needing to be saved by the stronger backups in the observing party.
Everything was going as expected, and perhaps even better than expected due to the frequent level ups and even more frequent loot drops the further and further they went. By the time they found another large stairwell traveling down into the fifth floor of the gigantic maze-like complex, Riven was quite pleased with their progress.
“I gained a level from passive XP just a moment ago.” Genua stated with a smile, holding Len’s hand while they traveled down the stone steps of the spiral staircase - exiting onto the fifth floor where the stairwell led into a large library of sorts.
Riven, who was pulling off one of said books to flip through the pages, quickly tossed the book after realizing it was a medical textbook from Earth and nothing of significance to him. “Glad to hear the plan is working! Len, did you grow any levels yet?”
“Mhmm!!” Len happily smiled, running over to where Atheal was tossing book after book after ripping them off the bookshelves. “What are you doing?”
Athela glanced down, then handed the little girl one of the picturebooks she’d found. “Just making sure none of this is worth anything.”
“Are you looking for spellbooks?”
“Or tomes, yes. It appears this dungeon is something of a collector concerning normal, old fashioned books though. Nothing too spectacular.”
Athela patted the little elf girl on the head, getting a warm stare from Genua, and then waltzed over to Riven to put an arm around his. “Feeling better? You look a lot better.”
Riven shrugged and lifted up his right arm, where the unholy sleeve tattoo shifted its runes and sigils that flashed between black and red at random all across his right shoulder and arm. “Gluttony is hard at work putting my soul back together, so yes. It still has a bit to go but I almost feel 100%. I just-”
Riven’s voice cut off and his head swiftly turned left, seeing the hall at the far end of the library abruptly cave in. Frowning alongside many of the others who’d had their own attention turn to the piling rocks, dust and rubble - his frown only grew deeper when a new passage opened up between two bookshelves that split apart with ominous grating sounds. The new hallway was more pristine than the previous one, with no layers of dust or grime anywhere and a smooth white surface to it - created from polished marble.
“Well that’s super weird.” Riven scratched his head, sharing glances with Azmoth and then starting for the new hall. Coming to step into the new marble hallway, Riven touched the wall and channeled a pulse of mana down its length.
The mana swiftly radiated along its entire length, rebounding back like a sonar and simultaneously setting off a single trap that’d been placed at the very front of a circular vault-like door at the end of the hall. A pillar of flames tore out from the bottom floor and crashed into the ceiling, rebounding and tearing through the hallway towards Riven’s position before he raised his free hand and lifted a wall of crimson ice to block the oncoming inferno.
Flames collided with his blood magic and rebounded, heating up as more and more of the flames continued to blast into the compact marble room with increasing fury.
Riven kept the mana channeling, watching expectantly for the trap to stop spewing out flames - but he raised an eyebrow when his wall began to crack. “Step back everyone, to the end of the room just in case.”
Jarla hurried her husband to the very back along with many of the others, including the lightning mage Jared and Len who was dragged by her mother at rapid pace.
Riven in turn stepped back and set up another wall of ice, a second layer, and then a third. Still the flames kept coming, and the stone walls of the library about them began to shake under the force of the pressure building up inside that rectangular marble hallway.
“That is a lot of pressure in there.” Riven stated absentmindedly, clicking his tongue in irritation and watching the very walls of the inside start to turn red-hot - beginning to melt. “Surely that dungeon trap doesn’t have much more to go. Right?”
Azmoth, who had come to stand next to him with both of his maws circling around off his back to peer like eels at the melting inner layers of ice, unstrapped the large dark-gray shield off his back and held it in one of his four clawed hands. It was the same round shield Riven had bought for him back in Negrada’s trading compound, and had finally accepted Azmoth as a wielder only recently.
[Immortal’s Grasp (Tier 1 Awakened Shield)(Heavy Armor): 640 average defense, 83 average damage on strike. +209 Sturdiness, +42 Strength.
- Grasping Fingers: This shield can launch a hand out of the shield to grasp enemies, pulling them towards the shield or you towards an enemy.]
“I can suck in flames before explode.” Azmoth offered, turning his almost permanent obsidian smile on Riven with a questioning head-tilt. “Put ice around me, then I go in. I not die to fire.”
Just like that, Azmoth’s body burst into hellfire - the obsidian plates around his body cindering while red, bare muscles inbetween the plates lit up with bright flames and spread. Slapping his spiked tail impatiently on the ground behind him, he motioned for Riven to get on with it.
Riven backpedaled while more of his original three layers began to melt, then began to draw up a fourth ice layer behind Azmoth - this one being far larger than the other three he’d already made. Anticipating an explosive impact, he put a final fifth layer domed around the party members behind him for insurance. “Alright my man, let’s see if you really can suck in fire or not.”
Azmoth gave him a nod through the crimson ice, turned back to the melting barrier Riven had initially made, and raised his shield. His feet each crashed into the ground, shattering stone and anchoring him into one spot while bracing - and as a final act he swung his massive magma-infused warhammer into the ground - creating a hole that half his hammer was also anchored into while he held onto the weapon using two hands.
The two eel-like maws opened wide while their necks circled around to the front in anticipation, as did Azmoth’s actual mouth a moment later.
It was a weird sight, but the pressure only kept building and building behind Riven’s three crimson sheets. More cracks spread, the quaking of the dungeon around them kept building to the point that many of their party had to kneel behind Riven’s protective dome in the back, and the fire’s light behind Riven’s makeshift plug had reached a nearly blinding crescendo.
Riven took in a deep breath, making sure Fay and everyone else were safe with a doublecheck. Only he and Athela were in the main room now, and he nervously clicked his tongue yet again when the air began to whistle with high-pitched shrieks through cracks along the edges of the melting hallway. “This is going to be a very big-”
*BOOM*
His inner plug shattered, with the last layers of his ice melting and giving way to a raging inferno that tore through the air towards Azmoth’s planted figure like an atomic bomb. His planted clawed feet tore through stone alongside the warhammer - causing his achors to leave long marks of ripped trails through the dungeon floor as his body began absorbing the flames as fast as it could.
The fourth layer held, only barely, and the short distance the flames rocketed through was enough to send all the books around the library flying off their shelves onto the floor. Azmoth’s figure disappeared in the raging flames, and Athela’s figure transformed into her drider body in anticipation of another break.
More cracks formed on the fourth barrier, and the shrieking sound of hot air only grew louder.
Riven immediately took his plate-armor leggings, his weapon Jackal, and his armor Messenger out of his spatial bag, placing his gluttony-infused armor on first. “I thought this was supposed to be a lower leveled dungeon, so what the fuck is this?”
“Yeah, this doesn’t make much sense.” Athela replied with a worried grimace. Opening the vertical crystal maw on her white body, more ice-made spiders began pouring out and moved to cover the barrier Riven had made behind them for another buffer. “This is definitely odd.”
Bloodsilk snapped around his body, clinging to his skin and disposing of the robes he’d been wearing. Ivory plates began shifting and moving to cover the larger sections of his chest, abdomen, back, and arms. Gauntlets with spiked knuckles crackling with black and red energies snapped onto his fingers, horned skull pauldrons began to glow bright red in their eye sockets. A very smooth, ivory-colored metal clamped down over his head with slits for his eyes, with the helmet being molded in the form of two jaws coming together to interlink vertically down the middle; like two halves had been smashed together to create the intricate helmet. Short neon red feathers that almost looked like blades came down the spine of the helmet and along the back of the neck.
The full-body chest armor had the same vertical maw of black teeth down the center, and it had what looked like four flat patches of black metal imbedded in the ivory along the back. These black slabs each sparked with a similar energy to the gauntlets, but instead of sparks - they exuded wisps of red and black that drifted into mist; similar to what happened when Riven charged a blood lance. Two additional large flaps of bloodsilk hung down from the armor’s back to cover the posterior and sides of his thighs down to where his knees would be before ending entirely, protecting his legs from any potential propulsion his suit made using ‘Launch’ - and the bloodsilk from his upper body began making its way down to connect with the plate-armor leggings he was using as an add-on piece for the otherwise complete set.
Jackal came next.
The spear-staff snapped into his hand, akin to a chinese halberd or Kawn Dao. It was quite long, made from black polished wood, with the bottom of the shaft being blunted using a cap carved into a Jackal’s mouth. The opposite end had another and larger jackal’s head that produced a pitch black blade, and the weapon oozed a mixture of red and black energy in the form of wisps trailing off the sharp end.
Swirling patterns of blood trickled like small rivers along its surface and flowed over his hands. The streams caressed him, burrowing into his armor and his skin, sending a jolt of awareness from the weapon as the mental entity touched Riven’s mind, and Jackal’s eyes along its carved faces of the weapon began to glow crimson in a very similar way that Riven’s own did.
The maw on Riven’s armor hissed and opened wide, and Riven held up a hand to reinforce the layer around Azmoth yet again. He’d received no notification that Azmoth had died but he couldn’t see the demon either, and he could feel the pressure building in the room while the very stone under their feet started melting - spreading from beyond the fourth wall.
Red wisps tore out of his hand, embracing the cracking ice layer and trying to repair it to give Azmoth more time. Athela too began sealing the cracks shut and reinforcing the fourth layer with her mana-infused bloodsilk, keeping the shaking barrier intact as best she could while more of her dog-sized spiders crawled out of her giant maw to settle on the dome in the back. Cracks just popped up in other places, and Riven had to increase the amount of mana he put out at higher and higher amounts. By now the room was rumbling violently, and heat was starting to escape out of fissures in the floor with spewing flames that Riven’s ice quickly combated as layers of frost buried them rapidly one by one.
And then, the dungeon trap inside let out an even more urgent pulse of flame.
The straining barrier of Riven’s magic burst.
The room went bright white when the metaphorical dungeon pimple popped.
*KABOOM*
Both Riven and Athela’s aspects of Gluttony’s maw opened wide and took in huge swaths of flame before both of them were violently flung back into the far wall adjacent to the final protective dome they’d formed. Fire raced through the room and spiraled up the staircase, destroying it entirely by means of shredding the melting stone into magma as the ceiling began to collapse with the force of the explosion.
Riven’s thoughts tugged at his soul aperture, and Gluttony’s maw erupted as a black, unholy visage in front of the barreling fires to intercept the brunt of the impact before it hit the dome. His soul clone ate what it could, swallowing the flames and drinking them into the abyss, but much of the flames still got around Gluttony’s form and slammed into the piles of ice-made arachnids covering the final protective layer around the weaker dungeon divers
The arachnids all shriveled and died, but thankfully enough the barrier held.
Ten second passed before the flames finally died away, and Riven’s body screamed at him in agony as he moved even despite Hell’s Armor being activated to negate the fire damage. That amount of pressure had been so vast that his body would have been crushed ten thousands times over if Messenger hadn’t been there to protect him, as was evidenced by the way his less-able armor covering his lower body was now crushed into flattened scrapmetal along with his mutilated legs. The smoldering room was in absolute ruin, glowing bright orange and white along the stone walls and partially exposed upper floor dozens of meters above them where a hole had been melted into the ceiling. The door at the end of what had once been the marble hallway was still intact, but glowed a hot molten color, and to Riven’s left Athela was pulling her scorched archdemon body out of a hole in the wall where she’d created a goddamn crater.
“Fuck!” Riven yanked off the bent, twisted metal from his soup-like legs, trying not to scream while Messenger’s fingers dug the leggings out of his flesh piece by piece. Thankfully his legs began to regenerate quickly, courtesy of his pureblooded heritage, and he let out an audible sigh of relief when new flesh began overtaking the charred remnants that’d been left behind.
Still, even as he picked himself up and pulled out a second set of the leggings he’d had crafted for him should something like this ever happen - he dared not take down the crimson dome covering up the others. The heat was simply too high, he could feel it even through the nullifying effects of his own body’s obsidian plates and flames - and he didn’t even consider dismissing Hell’s Armor after his initial attempt - immediately reactivating it when he both saw and felt pieces of his regenerating legs catch fire after brushing up against the near wall.
“OW! Motherfucking goddamm-” He started cursing in force, not stopping while he continued applied his new leg armor, ignoring the laughs of Athela while she let off soothing waves of frost from the crystal roses covering her body.
“That was fun!” Athela crowed, raising both of her giant arms in the air over her house-sized body and stomping two of her eight sharpened feet into the molten ground. “Let’s do it again! Azmoth, are you ok?”
In the very front of the room and still near the hallway that’d nearly been vaporized, Azmoth’s flaming body stayed in a kneeling position with two hands grasping the magma-infused stone maul and a bright-hot metal shield. He was breathing heavily, each breath producing abnormal amounts of flames that billowed into the air, and with a loud belch he accidentally let out a good blast of the stuff with a demonic groan.
“I don’t think he’s that ok.” Riven said with a grin. “Big boy, you gona live?”
Azmoth hiccuped, producing another puff of flames, then shook his head to stand. “No. Eat too much, not enough *HICCUP* space.”
A loud cracking sound, and then the snapping of metal on stone was heard from the end of the hallway. There at the very end, the vault-line contraption began to turn - hot metal sliding around in a circle until there was another loud click.
Opening and spilling magma onto the smoldering ground, the hallway’s end was opened up to reveal a rather odd sight.
There, standing in the dungeon hall’s end, was none other than the man in the tophat who’d originally proposed Genua not all that long ago in Jerbyville. Beside him were his two other companions, also in tophats, all with canes - and behind them were numerous gruff men with hatchets, machetes and rifles.
All of them had death-stares locked onto Riven’s person, the previously wary or polite smiles now gone.
How had they gotten down here before Riven? Had they used another set of passages he hadn’t known about? He was sure his team had come down first, but he also knew there were multiple ways to the bottom. Perhaps he just hadn’t seen them because they’d taken one of these alternate routes.
But the way they stood there looking at him like that caused him to tense, and he met their gaze with narrowed eyes - only to hear the sound of marching feet from above. Looking up at the hole that’d been carved into the dungeon’s ceiling far above him, he more men in tophats and steampunk attire that he immediately recognized given their red eyes - red eyes that the men at the end of the hallway were also displaying now. More warriors who were not vampires also closed in around the hole overhead, heavy-hitting knights and paladins with unsheathed swords and kite shields - while hooded monks clasped hands in muttered prayers beside them.
No words were spoken, and the staredown commenced as Riven sized up the enemies that no doubt had come for him. What were the chances that those guys in tophats had actually been Rippenvire men? Here, on this side of the planet?
He wanted to facepalm. The chances were so low that he hadn’t even considered it, and the vampires had somehow concealed their race upon brief identifications when seen earlier. What was even worse was that - though the Rippenvire soldiers were all around level 70 or 80, the knights, paladins and monks were all even higher level. The identification information they gave off also spelled out just exactly what they were doing there, and who they were.
Their names were also highlighted in golden flames, signaling that they were of the Elite status based on level range according to Elysium.
[Otherworldly Invader, Empire of Dying Suns. Level 110 Heavy Knight, Human. ELITE.]
[Otherworldly Invader, Empire of Dying Suns. Level 102 Heavy Knight, Human. ELITE.]
[Otherworldly Invader, Empire of Dying Suns. Level 119 Paladin, Human. ELITE.]
[Captain Vros Kinal, Invading Faction Boss, Empire of Dying Suns. Level 122 Sunchosen, Human. ELITE.]
[Otherworldly Invader, Empire of Dying Suns. Level 103 Sunfire Monk, Human. ELITE.]
Their blades were made with infused silver alloys, he could tell just by looking at them. The queasy feeling he got made him absolutely certain of it, and it was like he almost recoiled internally at the thought of touching one. He knew wholeheartedly those weapons would hurt him far more than any normal blade, these people had come prepared to slay a vampire - namely him - and they were equipped with ‘Sun’ type classes. The Sun subpillar of the Holy Foundational Pillar did extra damage to vampires - as was confirmed by briefly pulling up part of his status page again.
[Pureblooded Vampire, Malignancy Heritage (Blood / Shadow / Death) - Your heritage as a pureblooded vampire has finally come to fruition, and is no longer repressed. As a person holding one of the original vampiric lineages and as a greater undead, you are a favored descendant of the Blood God. Your heritage empowers you with many bonuses, but it also comes at a steep price. Please review the following changes.
Negatives:
- You suffer 400% additional damage from any Silver based weapons.
- You suffer 300% additional damage from any Light and Sun Pillar abilities.
- …]
He closed the window off after the first two initial items seen, not needing to read the rest.
“This… is not good.”
Riven’s words were spoken too soon, because the wall to his right shattered in a spray of molten stone when an enormous rat three times the size of Athela crashed into what had once been a library. Scales covered its skin instead of fur, enormous spiked plates covered its body, and a third yellow eye was planted into the center of its forehead between slits in the metal helmet it wore. Huge clawed hands carried enormous battle axes, spit dripped out of its mouth and off its two enormous fanged front teeth, and huge muscles encompassed its limbs while it stood up on its hind legs to roar out a high pitched squeak.
The areas far beyond this room, both up above and below, sealed off in white barriers of shimmering light - locking him and his team inside entirely without any chance of being able to portal out.
WARNING
WARNING
WARNING
WORLD QUEST BOSS FIGHT:
TEAM 1: RIPPENVIRE DEATH SQUAD, EMPIRE OF DYING SUNS DEATH SQUAD, CAPTAIN VROS KINAL OF THE EMPIRE OF DYING SUNS (FACTION BOSS), AND SKRAGNUT THE DOOMAXE (DUNGEON PETRUS BOSS)
VS.
TEAM 2: RIVEN THANE (PANU WORLD BOSS), ARCHDEMON ATHELA (PANU WORLD BOSS, 3 FORMS), SKINWALKER TRIBE, AND OTHER PANU DUNGEON DIVERS
[This fight is now being broadcasted.]
ELYSIUM HAS SEALED OFF YOUR POINT OF EXIT WITH A DIAMETER OF 5 MILES UNTIL THE BATTLE IS COMPLETE, THOUGH ENEMY AND ALLY FORCES CAN STILL ENTER THIS ZONE DURING THE BATTLE UNTIL ONE OF YOU IS KILLED DUE TO WORLD QUEST AND INVASION PARAMETERS.
[1 Mythic-Grade artifact will be provided to the victorious team.]
BEGINNING BATTLE IN
5…
4…
3…
2…
1…
Comments
Wrath
God damn this is not looking good. I don't know how our boys going to get out of this.
James Faulkner
Maybe Riven can get some mythic leg armor haha
