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SOM - Chapter 32 - Must Go Down
🕑 Added 2024-04-15 22:05:52 +0000 UTCLuke stood in the elevator, descending into the viran warcamp with Frank at his side. The ratling shifted uncomfortably, his feet pressing into the floor as Luke's Singularity Aura exerted its influence. The invisible force pushed down on everything within Luke's vicinity, a constant pressure that grew more intense the closer one got to him.
Although he typically charged headfirst into combat, Luke had ultimately followed his instincts and chosen the Monolith step.
He needed to expand his repertoire beyond just hitting things hard. Predictability was a weakness, and while the Colossus and Ironclad Steps were both potent, they didn't offer much in terms of versatility.
Monolith had just been too interesting to pass up.
The Singularity Aura would help suppress weaker enemies and make Fenn hit even harder, despite Luke's lack of [Empathy] to fully utilise it. His [Apex], [Gravity], and [Fire] domains all boosted his [Empathy], so it wasn’t like it was completely neglected.
Making everything heavier also made his gym cultivation sessions more effective, and he had managed to cultivate another point of [Endurance] hanging from his makeshift pull-up bar with chains wrapped around him
It was the Null ability that had really sold the Monolith to him. Even if he never became a dedicated spellcaster, having the power to negate gravity within his aura could serve as a hidden ace up his sleeve.
The ability opened up a world of possibilities, both for mobility and for catching his foes off guard.
Luke glanced over at Frank, who was staring intently at a faded poster on the elevator wall. "Who is the wizard of Oz? Is he one of your leaders?" the ratling asked.
Puzzled for a moment, Luke followed Frank's gaze to the poster advertising some old theatre production. "Oh, that? It’s a character from a musical, not a real person. It's like a play but with singing and dancing instead of just acting."
“A play?”
“Yea, like theatre, you know?”
Frank furrowed his brow. "The viran... we did not have theatre, I don't think." He closed his eyes, straining to remember fragments of his original life before becoming an aetherling.
Well, they're meant to be fun," Luke offered. "I never went to see one myself, but heard good things. Chrissy tried to get me to go a few times back then, but I… always said no.”
Chrissy had always been a social butterfly, while Luke stubbornly shut himself in, something he regretted in hindsight. At least he hadn’t had much time to mope in the last week. Being constantly in life and death situations was pretty helpful for getting over a nasty break up.
Realising he was falling into the trap of making small talk in an elevator, Luke chuckled to himself. All that was missing was cheesy elevator music.
It had been a few days now since the warband assaulted the city above. When Frank checked up on them an hour ago, the ratling saw several of the red-robed priests Luke had killed during the purge ceremony had respawned. That meant Sanara, the viran Prophet, would soon return as well.
If Luke wanted to fight Maruk without the other two viran leaders backing him up, now was the time to strike. He had tried to convince Frank to remain at the forge under Rurik's protection, but the stubborn ratling had predictably threatened to geld him in his sleep if left behind.
Rurik had tried to convince the pair to stay behind and cultivate more before heading down, and had even thrown an anvil through a wall when they didn’t listen.
Luke wasn’t good at dealing with his own emotions, let alone those of a millenia old dwarven forge spirit.
They promised to be careful and had left the volatile man behind. In an ideal world Luke would spend more time training, but he had a timetable to stick to. As it was he only had three days left to get two golden tickets, starting with the three-headed-rat below.
Frank's plan was to slink into the shadows while Luke drew the viran's attention. From there, the ratling would pick off the overseers one by one, and attempt to rile up his fellow tailless into a riot.
Frank was nothing if not confident.
Somehow, the ghostly white albino ratling had managed to sneak around the camp and confirm that regular mining operations were ongoing, as well as get a rough idea for the fighting strength of the warband. As a tailless, the ratling was generally ignored wherever he went, much like a construction worker carrying a ladder.
The strategy that Frank proposed was a smart one, even if it hadn't worked particularly well when Luke tried freeing the prisoners last time.
A metallic groan marked the elevator slowly coming to a halt, as anticipation built in the air. Luke took a breath. "Ready?" he asked Frank.
The ratling met his gaze and gave a toothy grin, yellowed fangs salivating at the prospect of violence. "Ready to paint the stone red with the blood of the masters."
Which one of us is the murderhobo again? Luke thought.
The elevator doors slid open, and Luke peered out cautiously with Frank at his side. The shaft itself remained intact, a sturdy metal column anchored to the cliff face. However, the surrounding rock had been obliterated, likely by [Earth]-aligned warriors trying to dislodge the elevator from their underground base.
Massive gouges and craters pockmarked the sheer cliff wall, leaving the elevator shaft hanging precariously in midair, like an indestructible black box suspended by an unseen force.
Key dungeon locations were hard to destroy, as Rurik had explained when Luke told the dwarf why he had steered the warband away from the forge. The dwarf hadn’t liked that Luke had put himself in so much danger.
Luke briefly considered purchasing some spider silk rope from the marketplace to rappel down, but a sly grin crossed his face as a better idea took hold.
Time to fly, he thought.
“Nope,” Frank said, guessing what Luke intended. “You almost broke my neck playing around with that. This is why we brought rope.”
Technically, it was Luke who had the rope. Frank’s lack of a soul meant that he was incapable of forming soul spaces, so Luke was carrying all their supplies.
Luke rolled his eyes. "Don't be dramatic," he said. "I'm still getting the hang of it."
With what passed for an unamused look on his face, Frank held out his hand expectantly.
Honestly, just because I dropped you once you suddenly don’t trust me? Luke thought.
“We had a plan,” Frank said.
“You said Maruk usually sleeps at this time of day. If I can drop down on Maruk while he sleeps then this whole thing gets a lot easier. Taking him out while he sleeps is better than whittling down his warband until he arrives.”
“The master dwarf will be angry.”
“So don’t tell him,” Luke said, as he fixed his sights on the command tent.
Without the [Wisdom] needed to make quick adjustments, using [Null] was a little janky. It wasn’t actually flying, and was more like floating around in zero gravity like an astronaut. Going in a straight line was easy enough, but changing directions was tricky, as was controlling the ability.
[Gravity] was a fundamental law of the universe and bending it to his will felt a bit like trying to solve a maths problem while juggling.
Before taking the elevator he had visited the levitating train, to see if he could make a breakthrough that way. Sadly, the [Gravity] runes on the track had been as obtuse to him as any scientific formula. It occurred to him that they might have influenced him; [Gravity] was the first aspected aether he had seen in action after his first brush with death.
Maybe a few days of staring at the runes might have made a difference, but he didn’t have that luxury. He would have to work on his control later.
That didn’t mean he couldn’t make an entrance.
“Here you go,” Luke said as he took a spool of spider silk from his space, and handed it to Frank. “I’ll draw their attention.“
“You are going to fall on your face.”
Luke cracked a smile. “Good thing I’m so hard headed,” he said as he jumped out of the elevator with [Null] active.
For all Luke’s bravado, his stomach clenched and he braced himself to fall at any moment.
That moment never came.
Luke thought as he floated through the air towards the viran command tent, like a big, heavily armoured, ghost.
To his relief, Luke had done a relatively good job of judging his trajectory. After a short jaunt across the cavern he saw the big red tent below, and tried to gently ease off on his [Null] to land a short distance away. Such fine control wasn’t Luke’s strong suit, and he overshot the tent, before the ability abruptly deactivated.
Luke fell.
With all the grace of a skydiving giraffe, he plummeted to the ground. At the last moment, he had the presence of mind to activate [Brace]. With a thump, he landed a few feet in front of a red robed priest talking with a viran elite.
The priest and elite looked at him in confusion, as if unsure how to process a giant armoured knight dropping from the air above, but they recovered quickly and yelled that the defiler had returned. In only a few seconds alarm bells sounded throughout the camp and chaos erupted.
Hey look, a distraction, Luke winced as he struggled to his feet.
Dashing forwards, with Fenn forming in his hand, Luke’s armour absorbed a fireball before he smashed through the priest. The spiked war hammer trailed a red crimson aura in the air, and thrummed with joy as it disembowelled the robed viran with its claw.
Coins spilled out of the wound, and Luke used a pulse of [Epicentre] to suck the small objects towards him. Gold dissolved into pure aether as they were absorbed into his soul. Only one in five of the coins were caught by his [Gravity] domain, but it was good practice, and his [Murderhobo] domain seemed to do some of the heavy lifting. Apparently meta concepts could enhance and alter other domains like that.
As the elite shrieked in rage and brought out her own weapon, Luke swung at her and released the momentum stored from his fall. The elite flew backwards through the air, landing in a broken heap of meat and bone halfway down the street. .
“Face me Maruk!” Luke shouted at the command tent, as he caught a crossbow bolt on his shield. There was no point trying to sneak up on the warlord when the alarm bells were ringing.
Challenging the warlord to a one-on-one fight had worked before, and he was hoping it would work again.
Yelling his challenge loudly enough that it bounced off the cavern walls, Luke set about decimating the viran until Maruk arrived.
Luke’s [Singularity Aura] was reasonably effective at slowing down the weak warriors he faced. Not everyone had his [Will]. Even the elites moved noticeably slowed, despite being able to resist Luke’s fledgling [Empathy].
The world around Luke was denser, as he warped the aether around him. A bash with his shield had the same impact as being kicked by a horse, and when combined with momentum transfers and kinetic strike it made his hammer blows hit like a truck.
After almost a minute of carnage, the warlord appeared from his tent. Maruk had the look of someone who had only just woken, and Luke was split between amusement at the warlord’s dishevelled state, and frustration that he had missed the big red tent.
He could have killed Maruk in his sleep.
Exactly how Frank had known the warlord would be asleep was a bit of a mystery. For a very loud individual, the albino viran could be remarkably stealthy when he wanted to avoid notice.
“I owe you thanks human. You have saved me the trouble of hunting you down,” Maruk growled, and leapt into the attack.
Was he always eight-foot tall?
