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A Soldier's Life - 425 - Sticks And Stones Will Break My Bones But Names Will Never Hurt Me (minor edit 7-19-25 +150 words)
🕑 Added 2025-07-19 01:40:11 +0000 UTCChapter 425: Sticks And Stones Will Break My Bones But Names Will Never Hurt Me
As soon as we emerged from the dungeon, Fenlorian halted. The others followed suit without a word. The silence lingered for a breath before Kaemar reported grimly. “No sign of the bone devil. The last of the spined demons are dead—all forty-two accounted for. We have lost seven Sentinels. Over twenty more are injured.”
Fenlorian exhaled sharply. “Regroup everyone on the plateau,” he ordered. “The bone devil is intelligent and old. It will initially strike the isolated, then target smaller, weaker groups. Its size is our only edge; it stands over twelve feet tall and is twice that in length. It can’t hide easily.”
“How do you know that is that old?” I asked. From my studies of the Godok archives, I knew most dungeons would release their creatures into the Endless Dark. Larger, more ancient dungeons were capable of sustaining and curating their creatures, extending their normal lifespan, much like a mad scientist zoologist. These creatures sometimes evolved into dire creatures if they became saturated with enough aether.
Fenlorian turned his eyes on me. “It learned Elvish from a captured Sentinel over five hundred years ago. It has never been slain since.” The weight in his voice spoke of personal history with the demon. I saw the rage in his eyes, perhaps even a hint of fear. It reminded me of the greater doppelgangers we had encountered in the Shimmering Labyrinth—beings bound to a dungeon’s will by some type of pact. If this bone devil was the same, it was probably relishing in its freedom.
I knew demons were brought to Desia like humans, elves, dwarves, and orcs through the World Gates. The Titans had miscalculated, and the demons began to overrun them. It forced the Titans to destroy the dungeons, which powered the World Gates. My question was if this bone devil was one of those demonic invaders from 5,000 years ago? Had it entered a dungeon and gotten itself trapped and forced into subservience?
“Are demons immortal, then?” I asked, unsettled by the cracks I was seeing in Sanctuary’s leader.
“They don’t age,” he replied to me. “They evolve.” Then he faced his companions to give orders. “It may have scaled Sanctuary’s cliffs. It could be hiding anywhere—inside or out. Some of the outer wards only trigger for undead. I want a full sweep of every level. It must be found before it does damage. I want teams patrolling the Repository and the vital warehouses.”
We ascended to the plateau at speed, and everyone showed themselves to be fit, having traversed the extreme stairs every day. The Sentinels were already crowded on the plateau, some in buildings. The High Sentinel addressed those in the open, those who would be hunting. “Most spells barely affect the exoskeleton on this demon. Runic weapons barely scratch its surface. It must be restrained and inundated with multiple attacks. Target the limbs as the claws are its primary weapons.”
Fenlorian moved swiftly, organizing search parties with the help of trusted individuals. Each team had three fighters, a mage with a communication spell, a tracker, and someone with a scouting spell. I knew most Sentinels had spell forms or could cast spells. Seven such groups fanned out into the structure’s winding corridors and shadowed stairs. Three more were sent to safeguard the Repository.
I directed Blaze to join Evie and the rest of our companions. Our once lightly populated residence was now joined by over forty Sentinels from the lower levels. I chose to remain near Fenlorian as he directed the responses to various messages sent to him via spells. He didn’t seem to mind my presence, and soon he started asking me questions.
“How long will this last? How many more releases?” he asked, his voice weary. He was clearly calculating how much time he had to deal with the bone devil before the next dungeon cycle.
“I can only speculate,” I replied. “We were made aware of what caused it, but it happened across the sea, according to mages we overheard. The good news is, the farther from the source, the quicker the dungeons recover there.”
“So the dungeons on the Isle may be affected too?” he asked, after a fresh report was delivered by spell.
“I would assume so, if it was the same type of trigger event. Do you think the bone devil crossed the sea?” I questioned. back
“It can’t swim,” Fenlorian said. “It might walk along the seabed, but the alarm arrays would have triggered if it had.” It seemed he wasn’t just answering me—he was reassuring himself that Sanctuary’s outer defenses hadn’t failed.
We waited, receiving infrequent reports. Then, just after sunrise, a message crackled in the air around Fenlorian. “We found a breach—an opening, freshly clawed through the stone, inside one of the lower storerooms.” The demon was inside Sanctuary. Fenlorian acted swiftly. Some teams were moved to try and set a net they could close in their search, and the High Sentinel was ready to move when it was found.
Under the pale light of dawn, Fenlorian paced the stone overlook the water, waiting. I broke the silence. “Have you fought it before?”
He slowed, then nodded once before looking at me. “Yes. A long time ago—before I was High Sentinel.” His voice grew heavier. “We were young. Arrogant. Greedy. We convinced ourselves the dungeon reward chest in the final room was worth the risk. It was all we cared about. We had already slain the serpent for its meat, taken down the spined devils for the alchemists. We even killed the shadow demon for the first time. That only emboldened us, and we felt prepared.”
He paused as he was preparing to say more when another Sentinel rushed up, breathless. “A body’s been found.”
It was the first time I saw Fenlorian truly furious. “I thought everyone was accounted for!” he snapped.
The elf stood firm under his commander’s glare. “It was Luthien.”
Fenlorian’s eyes blazed. “That stubborn old fool. Did he try to take it alone? Where is he?”
“The Repository,” the elf said. “Eleventh floor. West wing.”
Something unreadable flickered across Fenlorian’s face—shock, concern. “Is the Relic Vault there still sealed?”
The elf hesitated, unsure. That was all it took. Fenlorian was already moving. Sentinels began falling into step with him, blades drawn, protective magic flaring to life. I could tell by their actions that whatever was stored on that level wasn’t just valuable—it was dangerous.
No one asked me to follow, but no one said I couldn’t. Five elves and two dwarves glided down the steps in practiced haste behind the High Sentinel. I found their rhythm as their light footfalls made it almost seem like they were flying instead of stepping. We reached the Repository in minutes and rushed through it to find the area mentioned in the message.
The site was grotesque. There were no signs of combat other than a massive pool of blood. A body was dismembered into multiple parts and reassembled like a poorly pieced-together puzzle. “Did the demon do this?” Fenlorian rasped angrily.
“It is how we found him,” another said helplessly.
“The demon is trying to terrify us. It does not know we have seen far worse.” Fenlorian knelt in the blood and closed the old elf’s eyes. He spoke softly to the corpse. “Old friend, you were never good at obeying orders. Rest and find the peace you sought when you came here.” The High Sentinel spent a moment in silent words before standing and asking, “The Vault?”
“Claw marks, but it is still sealed,” an elf replied. “We followed the blood trail down two levels before it disappeared.”
“How did it know to come here?” another elf asked.
“The artifacts inside were made by the hands of demons. My guess is it felt a pull to them,” another Sentinel said. I had so many questions, but was wise enough not to interrupt and draw attention to myself.
“Layer more wards and alarms on the Vault,” The High Sentinel ordered and drew his sword. He snapped orders for a few men remaining behind and then joined the search. My presence wasn’t questioned, and I followed at the back of the small group that had entered the dungeon. They were taking precautions in case the bone devil attempted to escape outside.
Someone in our group yelled. “They are fighting it on the fourth floor! North wing—near the forge rooms!” The news gave our group a destination, and all I needed to do was follow. I heard the fighting before I saw it, as combat echoed up the stairwells. We broke into a wide corridor from the stairs, and the sight was initially confusing through my aether sight.
Dog-sized apparitions zipped in the air against the monstrous bone devil. The demon was nearly twice my height, a towering skeleton cloaked in muscle-tight skin covering the bleached bone. Its forearms ended in claws like curved scythes. The hindlegs had claws only slightly less impressive.
It had a face—if you could that exposed skull a face. The pits of the skull were a hell-fire red. The tail dragged behind it, thick and barbed like a scorpion’s. It left small gouges in the stone as it fought off attacks from the apparitions.
Two dead Sentinels are scattered in pieces across the hall on our path to the demon. Five other Sentinels were engaged with the demon. Two seemed to be casting aether and ice shields to protect their comrades who were controlling the apparitions in the air. The High Sentinel’s group didn’t hesitate as they charged forward. Beyond the fighting lie the bodies of other Sentinels, their gray robes soaked with blood.
As I brought up the rear, my aether sight could see strands of aether connecting the bones on the demon. They looked like webbing, snapping and reforming over and over again. It was some spell to restrain the creature, and it was working as it was having difficulty getting much power behind its strikes and probably couldn’t flee.
Fenlorian yelled an elven war cry, attracting the bone devil’s attention. I approached but didn’t join the fight just yet. Even though the corridor was wide, it was overly crowded, and with the bone devil attacking, I wanted to give them space to swing their weapons. Instead, I moved to the Sentinels in support and quickly handed out precious aether restorative potions.
“The boy returns!” The bone devil met the High Sentinel charge with a taunt. The voice rumbled with an echo, and the Elvish was barely understandable. “Come, and join the fun!” It goaded.
I noticed while the bone devil was restrained, there were very few marks on its exoskeleton. Fenlorian fared little better, with a small bone chip flying off the arm the demon used to block his strike. The High Sentinel danced back out of range of the counter strike, but he had achieved his aim and completely gotten the bone devil’s attention.
I think the bone devil was having fun, even as my aether sight could see more magical restraints forming on it. Shadow chains, aetheric webbing, and lines slowed the beast considerably. Fenlorian and four others surrounded it and were taking opportune attacks when available. “It is an actual aether restorative!” one of the necromancers shouted to the others. Such potions were rare, but I was a little peeved he hadn’t believed me.
The tide of the battle was clearly in our favor, although the Sentinels had paid in lives to get it to this point. Then the tide shifted. The bone demon howled, and the apparitions dispersed, and the aetheric threads and chains restraining it snapped. Before the support mages could recast them, it had leapt onto one of the warriors. Not Fenlorian, but the Death Hunter from his group.
One claw pinned him to the ground, cutting into his armor, while the tail arched overhead like a scorpion about to strike. It struck down with lightning quickness, piercing and exploding the head of the trapped elf. The air hung still for a second before the Sentinels bravely continued after losing another comrade.
I couldn’t stand back anymore, as this creature was too powerful. Spells of fire and energy barely charred it, and runic weapons barely chipped away. I took a place in the melee, using air shields to get close before overlaying my dimensional space. The tail was hovering over its head, swaying as it chose its next victim. My goal was to cut the head and tail off with a thin plane being sent to my dimensional space.
I either underestimated its awareness of my ability or its quickness. As I was about to close the dimensional space, the head snapped to face me, and I cut off five feet of the tail but only half of its skull-like head. My aether bottomed out harder than it had in a long time overcoming the resistance of the demon, but I succeeded. The tail crashed to the ground and half the skull with it. Only…the rest of the creature did not follow.
Thick black blood oozed from the exposed skull, and the single red eye now focused on me. I reached into my pouch for an aether restorative as the bone devil leaped for me. The claw with four sword-like claws slammed into me from the side in lightning quickness. My chest exploded in pain as I was slammed into the wall. I felt more than a few bones break when I hit the wall, but I managed to remain conscious.
At first, I was confused as to why my aether shield amulet didn’t work, but then I realized it had, albeit it had exploded under my armor. I almost wanted to chuckle, but knew the effort would waste my energy. I knew the amulets could be overloaded, but that was when boulders from catapults struck mages or the mage fell from great heights. The only good news is I was being ignored and could drink a potion—if my arm worked, which it currently did not.
At least my sacrifice had turned the tide in our favor, as the bone devil no longer appeared confident and began to retreat. More Sentinel teams arrived and contributed their magic to the fight. I struggled to stay awake, and as each fragment of aether flowed into my core, I directed it through my healing aspect. That was my focus as the battle gradually moved down the corridor.
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Comments
Erick Thiemke
no - just an Old Sentinel - may he rest in pieces
Azwrix
Do we know Luthien?
Robert Robinson
He didn’t try to take the whole tail and head, just a thin sliver to separate them from the rest of the body. I picture it like a 1 inch x 10ft x 10ft box
Lemes
MC's attack with his dimensional space was confusing. His dimensional space manifests as a box, so how could he cut off a piece of the tail and a piece of the head at the same time? The demon would have to be in a very strange pose. And if he cut off those parts, then it means he would have stored a piece of the skull and tail, but in the description of the fight, the tail fell to the ground. Anyway, it got confusing.
