Chapter 298: 294: Storming the Final Chamber

Rmmmmble!

The entire dungeon trembled as the group sped down the passageway.

Stone dust rained from the ceiling, spreading through the air around them. The dungeon core’s dark mana ebbed and flowed, trying to concentrate the might of its raw power in one spot and bring the full weight of the rock down on them. But they were neither stationary nor slow, frustrating its plan. The team kept moving ahead, united in one goal: the destruction of the dungeon core. Frightful chitterer cries echoed throughout the tunnels, but the monsters remained out of sight and at a distance.

Everyone could breathe a little easier for the moment.

And Alex finally had time to think.

Time to dread.

His mind remembered that feeling of recognition and the spikes aimed directly at him…and him alone. The walls the core had erected had actually helped him in one critical way: they’d kept Cedric from seeing that attack on him. Alex glanced around, catching the Chosen’s eye, then slowed so the team could return to their original formation with him in the middle.

Cedric gave Alex a respectful nod as he passed him, but didn’t say a word, turning his attention forward, watching for threats. Svenia and Hogarth passed next, and the muscular woman clapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks for the save.”

Alex nodded, still watching Cedric’s broad back moving ahead.

Recognition. Focused attacks. It was pretty clear that the core had been fixated on him specifically: with killing him specifically. His eyes narrowed on the dark tunnel up ahead. What would happen when he got down there, right in the heart of the dungeon, where the core’s power would be its strongest? He visualised bigger spikes, traps, swarms of monsters and other hells it could be planning to throw at him.

His jaw hardened with resolve.

But, so what?

Khalik, Thundar, Isolde and Meikara passed, then he jumped in beside Theresa, and Brutus as they reached him.

Bringing up the rear and towering over everyone like a pair of powerful guardians, were Grimloch and Claygon.

His team. His friends. All wielding their own power. All united in purpose.

He’d spent the last year forming friendships. Making bonds. Gathering magical power, skill, physical strength and magical allies. His eyes rested on his small water elementals still moving beside him, then on his swarm, and briefly on Claygon striding behind him.

There was no question in his mind that the dungeon core was targeting him—and it seemed to have a lot more mana reserves than the one they’d fought in the Cave of the Traveller—but he, Theresa and Brutus had stopped it with a blade, jaws, a smashed fire-gem, and some imagination.

If this thing wanted him dead, he’d have to disappoint it...

Still, there was one major issue to consider.

His eyes narrowed on Cedric’s back.

What would the Chosen think if it became obvious that the dungeon core was focused on him; on someone who was from Thameland. The secret Fool had his explanations ready, but made-up explanations weren't foolproof. A dead dungeon core was.

Especially one that died fast, well before it could bring attention to how much it was focusing on him.

Alex was pulled from his thoughts when screeching erupted in the tunnel ahead.

“There’s no rest for the weary!” Cedric shouted from the front. “Here comes another wave!”

Rmmmmmmble.

The dungeon shook below.

The strategy had failed.

The usurper was alive and still on his way to its chamber.

And it had already used much mana in the failed attempt.

It grew agitated in the chitterer’s hands.

The attendant looked around the chamber.

Layer upon layer of large cocoons pulsated and throbbed rhythmically on the floor and walls within the space, moving and sloshing, ready to burst. The mana-filled attendant poured some of the core’s mana into them until they ruptured with a wet sound.

Squelch!

Newly hatched chitterers—full-sized, but slick with fluid—burst free of their cocoons, screeching out their first breaths, then skittered along the stone floor.

The attendant shrieked its orders.

Take weapons.

Use bare claws. Use teeth.

Stop the usurper.

The chitterers screeched in acknowledgement of their task, bounding through the tunnel, with several giant ones bringing up the rear. When the attendant knew that the horde had entered the tunnel, more mana was poured into the remaining cocoons and then...

Rrmmmmmble.

Crash! Crash! Crash!

Wall after wall appeared in the tunnels leading to the core’s chamber, sealing out invaders.

More mana used, but time bought. Now was the time for caution, but not inaction: if it drained its mana too low, then the usurper would use that weakness to overwhelm its defences and seize control of it. So, it still needed to do what it could to avoid that fate.

There were a few more things to be done. It focused on the space above the chamber: the commander it had spawned long ago remained concealed within a crevice above the entrance, ready to stop all intruders.

It would craft another.

The attendant holding the dungeon core reached deep within it, drawing out its mana. Within the core lay prototypes of scores of monsters it could create, and its attendant searched them, choosing a commander suitable for its needs.

There was a depth within itself it could not search, though. It was the sole domain of the Ravener. The prototypes hidden there were buried within each core, and only The Ravener itself could approach them. Usurpers of the past had hunted for them, but had never uncovered where they had been hidden. Those specially spawned monsters were so terrible, so fearsome, that any one of them could make short work of all of these interlopers on its own. Yet, to create them was forbidden, protocols ingrained in each core's very being would not allow that, except in one dire circumstance.

And it would not come to that.

And so, it would use what it had free access to.

The air shuddered as a cocoon swelled and thrashed, growing as the creature inside shifted, its form altering, becoming something far greater than a simple chitterer.

A gibbering noise slipped from its covering.

The casing began shifting and splitting apart.

Cedric split the chitterers apart.

More kept coming.

The dungeon was rumbling now, like an angry beast trying to scare predators away.

But the predators kept coming; pushing through the last layers of resistance.

“We’re near the chamber!” Alex said, checking the map.

Whoooosh!

Claygon’s firebeams blasted chitterers to dust as the creatures approached from the rear. Ahead, volleys of spells tore through monsters coming from the front. Alex watched the spells; they’d been casting a lot since they got down here.

“How are we on mana?” Alex called to his team.

“Down to less than half!” Isolde shouted back, sending multiple small lightning bolts cascading from her fingers.

“A little more than half!” said Khalik, spraying a glob of acid over chitterers charging Cedric.

“I’ve still got about three-quarters!” Thundar fired force bolts through the tunnel. He’d been using less powerful spells since the assault on the dungeons began: choosing to do a lot more hitting than magicking things.

I’m at about three-quarters of mine right now!” Meikara chimed in.

“I’m just fine!” Cedric called back. “Maybe half, but that’s still lots for me!”

You are reading story Mark of the Fool at novel35.com

Schnk!

He, Svenia and Hogarth ran a large chitterer through as one, then watched it collapse to the earth before kicking it away.

‘There’s the Mark of the Chosen’s mana pool for you,’ Alex thought.

“I’m just over half!” Alex shouted.

Using so many summons earlier had taken a fair amount of his mana, but the elementals were still with him, right by his side. Hopefully, the summoning spells would hold until the core was dead.

He steeled himself. They’d be on top of the core soon.

The team rounded a corner, finding a straight corridor ahead of them, filled with a swelling tide of monsters. Alex froze for an instant: the hall should lead them right to the dungeon core’s chamber, but instead, it was a dead end, a dead end overrun with monsters.

It suddenly hit him like a wall.

“The dungeon’s tryin’ ta block us out!” Cedric cried. “It’s sealin’ itself up wit’ walls! We gotta bust ‘em down if’n we want that core! This one’s mine!”

Up ahead, the dungeon was roaring, flowing like a raging river, powering…a process Alex couldn’t see.

“Traps!” Cedric shouted.

The Chosen leapt back as spikes shot out of the ceiling, floor and walls, nearly impaling him. His weapon morphed into a shining hammer then struck the spikes, shattering them. He leapt over the rubble.

Likely there’d be traps on the other side of the wall as well. And only one of their group was nearly invincible.

“Cedric!” Alex shouted. “Switch with Claygon and Grimloch!”

He glanced at Theresa. “Can you and Brutus guard our backs for a bit?”

The huntress gave him a look like he’d just insulted her.

“Yeah, stupid question,” he said, then spoke to Grimloch. “You’re the best armoured of all of us, mind going in after Claygon?”

Smash!

Grimloch’s toothy grin after sweeping his hammer through more chitterers was all the answer he needed.

Cedric gave Alex and Grimloch another puzzled look. Then he seemed to come to a conclusion. “Right, but I’m next one through!”

“Good! The rest of us—” Alex said, feeling the dark mana continually building in the chamber ahead. “—shock and awe tactics! We follow Claygon, Grimloch and Cedric and just bury anything with magic that so much as twitches in there!”

The group approved.

“Alright! Charge the fire-beams and have them ready, but don’t fire yet!” Alex instructed Claygon.

Whooooom.

Three fire-beams charged, bathing the area in red light. Alex glanced behind him. So far, nothing unusual from Claygon. So far so good.

‘Stay with me, buddy,’ he thought.

“Charge!” He shouted.

The group parted in front of the golem, who turned—

Boom!

—dug his foot into the stone and charged forward at full speed with all three fire-gems glowing. He smashed through the monsters ahead like a raging bull moose crashing through a dilapidated fence. Chitterers flew through the air before abruptly hitting the ground…where they were promptly trampled by Grimloch.

As Claygon ran into a line of giant chitterers, they tried to stop him by pushing back, but they may as well have been made of dried twigs. Anything trying to block the charging juggernaut was cracked and shattered.

The golem continued gathering speed as the wall loomed near.

Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash!

He plowed into wall after wall, slowing with each one…but Grimloch was there, lending a hand. With a roar, the sharkman slammed into Claygon’s back, pushing him forward, crushing chitterers between clay and stone and demolishing all obstructions.

Cedric came right after them, followed by each team member as Theresa and Brutus cut down chitterers in the rear, then joined the others, completing the team.

Finally, the last wall fell. The chamber yawned open ahead of Claygon.

Clack! Clack! Clack!

A volley of arrows broke on Claygon’s form: a failed ambush.

Crunch! Crunch! Crunch!

Spikes rose from the floor to impale him, but they shattered on him: a failed trap.

“That core likes trying to kill things with spikes a little too much for my liking.” Alex shouted.

“Get ready to fire on anything that moves!”

Three fire-beams blasted from Claygon, shooting into the room and rocking the tunnel with heat, and the flaring light of explosions.

Grimloch charged in after Claygon.

Followed by Cedric right after him.

And then came the rest of the group.

Alex blinked as light from the wizards’ magical lights spread through the chamber.

The room was enormous, nearly as vast as the portal chamber in the Cave of the Traveller. Seeing it through the Wizard’s Eyes hadn’t done it justice. The ceiling must have been close to fifty or sixty feet high, and was supported by walls covered in swollen, dripping cocoons that were pulsating, leaking thick fluid over the floor.

Much of the chamber was burning.

Flame was jumping from one smouldering cocoon to the next, belching smoke into the cavern. Chitterer archers clutching bows blazed on the floor as the fire rose, but unfortunately, not every monster had perished from Claygon’s fire-beams. More monsters were erupting from cocoons the flame hadn’t touched, scrambling over stone, rushing to join a large chitterer wearing distinct armour: with bright colours and decorations on the scavenged plating.

And in its hands…the dungeon core they were after. The mana flowing from it was immense as the orb of darkness seemed to pulsate with hatred and malice. Alex’s demeanour hardened as its attention fell squarely on him.

He watched it in silence with a look of defiance on his face, neither blinking nor speaking. The Alex Roth who’d escaped Thameland on his eighteenth birthday a little over a year ago, would have been trembling at the sight and feel of its mana—far more abundant than the core’s in the Cave of the Traveller.

Now he didn’t flinch.

“Oi!” Cedric said. “Why don’t ya be a good little ball of crud an’ just explode for us, will ya?”

The chitterer wielding it shrieked at him.

Alex paused. Was it…laughing?

“Above us!” Theresa shouted.

Alex glanced up.

His vision was filled with ‘monsters’.

Two of them.

Giant masses of flesh with gibbering mouths quivered on the ceiling like spiders setting a trap. Each of them must have been taller than Claygon and maybe twenty feet across. Dozens of twitching, fleshy arms protruded from all sides, each clutching a shield or rusty spear in their grips. A cut from one of those rusted spear tips could prove fatal.

The monsters’ undulating wails blasted through the cavern, so loudly, the swelling sound made Alex’s ears ring.

“Scatter!” Theresa shouted.

And then—with a sound like wet paper peeling from a wall—both monsters dropped.

You can find story with these keywords: Mark of the Fool, Read Mark of the Fool, Mark of the Fool novel, Mark of the Fool book, Mark of the Fool story, Mark of the Fool full, Mark of the Fool Latest Chapter