Chapter 297: 293: Breaking Walls

The usurper was there. Right in its lair.

Of all possible scenarios, the worst had arrived.

Within its chamber, the dungeon core’s mana shuddered as its alien mind worked, gathering its thoughts, ordering them. This was not the time for disorganised thinking, but it was difficult to process all that had happened.

Recent times had brought too many unwelcome events its way.

First came the new interlopers into these moor-filled lands. It had been certain the area would remain empty save for the few wild beasts and other denizens lurking about. They were no threat, so they were ignored.

There was a time when the dungeon cores abiding in these lands had been three. They had worked in synergy, preparing to annihilate the mortals staining the Ravener’s land in a crushing, combined wave. Chitterers were to form the bulk of the army. Blood draks controlling the skies, poisoning the land. And Skinned Ones, the siege engines that would shatter the walls and armour of the enemy and bring utter ruin to their cities.

It was to be the highest expression of their purpose.

But an impatient core had acted too quickly.

The Skinned Ones had ventured forth, tasked with one goal: spread terror across the land among the mortals, feed their fear, make it grow so the fuel from human terror could enrich the dungeon cores. The armies would grow stronger and the cores would build their armies of monsters faster. For a time, they had been filled with the mortal’s fear…but that attention had drawn the hated Heroes.

And the dungeon of the Skinned Ones had been uncovered and destroyed by them.

So the remaining pair had waited, soaking in the mortals’ fear and building up fear inducing armies. The plan was still sound, even without the Skinned Ones. The dungeon cores would simply be more cautious, less impatient. Then, they would strike together, and by the time the Heroes returned to hunt them, much terror would have spread far and wide among the mortals.

But then they had come.

Strangers with skill, strong magic—far stronger than that wielded by most wizards in these lands—and organisation. Soon, it became clear that these mortals were a growing threat.

And so their plans had changed.

The two dungeons had worked in secret, building their forces to strike and clear the lands of the blight. They had sent scouts out with care, mostly under cover of darkness, and kept their tunnels obscured during the daylight. Yet, they had been discovered by a small group of these intruders. It was not the first time they had been found. Those other trespassers had been of no significance and were useful for fuel, food, and their equipment. They were easily dispatched with.

But these strangers had proved to be an entirely different matter.

And the Heroes presence was also of concern.

Ultimate destruction was likely.

Yet, resistance was a must.

It had been mounting a broad defence against the intruders when a group of them had entered its main tunnel where it had been building ambush points.

It had overrun that passage with its creations…only to find troop after troop destroyed by these invaders. It had then tried to warp the stone within the passage—costing it much mana due to the urgent action needed, and the distance it had been working from—but these persistent pests had endured. So it had been forced to examine them more closely, to know the enemy.

That’s when it sensed it.

That stink.

The stench of a mortal who had overcome one of its siblings and controlled it. A usurper. A usurper brought a fate far worse than destruction to a dungeon core. It meant a grave shift: from being a tool for the Ravener, to being a tool for a mortal.

And if more mortals were to learn of this ability…

…that had to be avoided.

At all costs.

Reaching deep within itself, it tapped some of the mana it had been building up over time. It mentally connected to the armoured chitterer who was holding it with the greatest care. The assistant had removed it from the rock shelf within its chamber: it was the only spawn in the dungeon that had been given intellect and mana to practise a crude form of magic.

The dungeon core’s mana and consciousness joined with its creation’s own, and that joining allowed them to begin working in concert. There was much to do. The dungeon core understood that all of its mana reserves would be used up: it would have to create additional elite chitterer-warriors to buy time. Then it would use that time to craft another commander. The chamber would have to be sealed, obstructions must be created if there was enough time.

It had to resist.

No matter the cost.

Then it paused, feeling its attendant’s consciousness directing its mana to another purpose. When it understood what the creature was planning, the dungeon core eagerly offered up its power.

There would be risk. If the plan failed, it would be left with just a fraction of its mana.

But if it succeeded…the usurper and at least one Hero would be destroyed.

Its power reached through the stone above.

“Brutus! Thundar!” Theresa screamed, moving toward the other tunnel in a blur, the horror at what had just happened marked her voice. She threw her weight against the stone wall, hitting it with her shoulder, kicking at it.

But it was unyielding.

Alex watched her, frozen in place, his mind overwhelmed. It had recognized him. By the Traveller, a dungeon core had recognized him!

His mind began to race with questions, but there was no time to consider any of them right now. He had to get those walls down.

‘Claygon!’ He cast his thoughts to his golem. ‘Come to me! Break down the wall.’

Thm.

Colossal footsteps sounded from behind the wall separating him and Theresa, from Claygon and Grimloch.

Crash!

A huge clay fist burst through the thin stone like it was cracking eggshells.

Crash!

Then another and another, pulverising the rock.

A heartbeat later, the dungeon core’s wall crumbled, spewing rock dust. Alex was glad to see Claygon step through the ragged hole. Behind him, flames roared through the passage, consuming monsters, while Grimloch—covered in a shield of dark water—smashed some of the bigger ones charging him.

He was laughing with every swing; he didn’t need Claygon’s back-up anymore.

So Alex put him to other uses.

“Claygon, I need—”

His breath caught.

That dark mana streamed up from down below.

And this time, there was even more of it.

Alex looked at Theresa, fear coursing through him. “Theresa, there’s-”

Crooom!

The tunnel shuddered like a titan was violently shaking it. Stone dust and rock shards rained down from the ceiling, bouncing along the floor and kicking up fine grey clouds.

“By Eku-Dari!” Grimloch cursed.

“Alex, what’s happening?” Theresa cried.

He looked up at the ceiling as the tunnel shook with increasing force. Then, the ceiling began to move. Downward. Mana flowed around them with such intensity, it was becoming overwhelming.

“It’s trying to crush us!” Alex shouted. “We need to—”

“Look out!” Theresa screamed.

Alex looked up.

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Spikes.

Stone spikes were focused on him, shooting straight down from above.

He jumped away, propelled himself to the ground and out of the way before they could skewer him, then quickly kipped back to his feet. They shattered where he had been a breath before.

Rmmmmble.

As the ceiling slowly moved down, the sheer amount of mana being used made Alex shudder. His mind flashed back to that strange complex beneath the Barrens where he, Brutus, Rayne and Thundar fought off muupkara skeletons, and had to save themselves from another ceiling rigged to crush anyone in its path.

Only this time, there was no switch or mechanism to use to open an escape route.

And no spell-marks to whisk them away to safety.

“Claygon! Break the wall on the left! Hurry!”

Schnk!

More spikes.

Alex twisted away, dodging the impaling tips. They hit the dirt, billowing a dust cloud.

Crash!

With fists flying, Claygon shattered the thin wall separating Thundar and Brutus from Alex, Theresa and Grimloch. The minotaur and cerberus were fighting hard against a tide of chitterers. Many had died by them and booby-trapped flight potions, but there were more pouring in, determined to pull the hound and wizard down.

In an instant, Theresa was leaping through the hole and over Ravener-spawn heads.

Her blades flashed, tearing through the monsters. “Go! Get back!” She shouted at Brutus and Thundar.

The panting pair stumbled back, their chests heaving. The minotaur gaped at the descending ceiling. “By my ancestors, it’s coming down!”

Grimloch roared and smashed another armoured chitterer down. “We gotta move!” His knees were beginning to bend as the ceiling was getting close to his armoured dorsal fin.

Schnk!

More spikes shot down, then—

Shcnk!

—more launched from the floor at Alex. He jumped aside, narrowly avoiding being skewered. A spike tip scraped along his force armour. Too close.

The tunnel was rapidly filling with spikes. He was running out of room. Soon there’d be no place left for him to dodge to.

“Break that other wall!” he shouted at Claygon.

The golem strode to the front wall—his head almost scraping the ceiling now—and smashed another barrier the dungeon core had erected. There were shouts of surprise from the other side.

Meikara, Isolde and Khalik whirled around in shock, while Najyah fluttered around them, screeching. Ahead of them, another wall had been created, cutting them off from Cedric and Isolde’s entourage.

Isolde was pale. “Hogarth and Svenia!” she cried. “They were fighting a new wave of monsters when the wall came down! I—”

Rmmmble!

The ceiling continued descending, grinding slowly toward the ground and anything standing on it. The dark mana flowed.

“What is that mana?” Meikara cried. “It’s horrible!”

Then a muffled roar came from behind the wall.

It was Cedric’s voice.

Another mana flowed around them, filling the space and pushing back against the dungeon core’s power.

Crack!

Stone split from the strain, sending rock and dust cascading from the cracked ceiling. But the ceiling’s descent had slowed, almost to a crawl. The stone spikes stopped, buying them precious time.

‘Claygon, get all of us back together,’ Alex mentally commanded.

Bending at the waist, the golem moved to the wall and smashed it with two powerful blows.

On the other side, chaos greeted them.

Cedric was fighting like a demigod, combining divinity with his whirling weapon. From his mouth poured the incantation of a spell, and from his being flowed the mana that was slowing the sinking ceiling. It was a testament to the Chosen’s abilities that he could cut down giant, menacing, armoured chitterers, while maintaining his concentration on his spell.

He also had very capable help, though.

Hogarth and Svenia were beside him, smashing the spikes of their halberds through the giant chitterers’ crooked armour. They fought with the skill of veterans who had learned how to fight their way out of a corner; dozens of the monsters were dead at their feet, but more were streaming toward them.

Rmmmmble!

The dungeon shook. Dark mana began to gather. Cedric’s mana pushed against the mounting power of the dungeon core, but the core’s power increased, pushing hard against Cedric’s. Dust fell as the ceiling began to fall faster again.

“That’s it!” Alex shouted. “We’re breaking through! Claygon, blast every one of those hells-spawn out front! Heads up!”

Whooooom!

Whooooosh!

Cedric, Hogarth, and Svenia continued cutting through monsters while Claygon fired, aiming directly at the approaching targets.

Booom!

Flame filled the tunnel as the Chosen and the two warriors leapt back. The golem raked the enemy at the front of the horde with two fire-gems while blasting any remaining behind them with his third.

“Move up and keep low!” Alex shouted. “We’re pushing forward as soon as the flames die down!”

Heat built around them, and Alex called the Small Water Elementals, directing Bubbles and the other three to douse the flames. Steam soon hissed in the air, revealing piles of smouldering Ravener-spawn. Up ahead, more tunnels had opened on either side of the passageway, chitterers clicked and shrieked inside, but stayed put, probably panicked by the wall of fire Claygon had unleashed on their now roasted brethren.

‘Charge the fire-gems again!’ Alex thought.

Whooooom!

Light built in the gems.

“Get ready!” the Fool said, pulling more booby-trapped sleep potions out of his pack, then coiling the rope over his shoulder. He tossed some of them into his Wizard’s Hands while holding another pair in each hand. “Follow me at the count of twenty!”

He sprinted forward with the small water elementals and beetle swarm behind, moving down the tunnel with supernatural speed. His hands and spells whipped out, tossing potions into hidden tunnels on either side as he ran past them. The bottles exploded, releasing their mist.

His team followed, passing tunnels with sleeping chitterers collapsed atop one another inside.

But, Claygon was the last to follow, waiting until everyone was clear…and until the fire-gems finished charging.

Then, Alex gave his mental instruction. ‘Rake them all!’

The golem’s upper arms snapped out sideways, almost as though he was forming a “T”. Then he fired. Fire-beams hit the sides of the passage, engulfing everything around him in flame, then he charged ahead with earth-shaking strides.

Fire beams seared the walls, letting loose twin streams of flame on either side of Claygon, leaving trails of fire as he ran. Every hidden tunnel he passed was met by fire-beams scouring them, blasting any chitterer hidden within. When his sprint through the passageway was done, every hidden tunnel on either side was raked by fire; there'd be no Ravener-spawn following their team and stopping their progress. Not for a while.

Alex had his Wizard’s Hands pull up the map again. “C’mon guys! We’re nearly at the dungeon core!”

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