Chapter 12
Friar Brown remained where Id left him, and though hed hardly moved, charred corpses surrounded him. I examined the corpse that had once been Silas. I assumed, at any rate, since that was where hed stood. Nothing remained to distinguish this blackened form from the others. Friar Browns spell looked to have been a beam of energy which consumed the man. I wondered how quickly the fight had been over, and was beginning to think Friar Brown might be more powerful than I thought.
I see everything went well, I said, approaching cautiously in case his magic still filled the area.
Yes, Friar Brown said with a nod. Its safe for you to approach. Sorry for any harm I caused I wasnt thinking.
No worries, no real harm done.
Do you need healing? Friar Brown asked.
I would greatly appreciate it. Though I was far more skilled than the cultists, Id still taken a few blows.
Friar Brown cast his restoration spell, and the few cracked bones Id endured bound themselves back together.
We headed on up the mountain, following a trail leading out of the ruins. Before long, we broke through the trees into a clearing where a small ziggurat rose. Surprisingly, only a few cultists were around, but as we approached, more appeared at the top of the thick-stepped structure.
Even from where we stood, desiccated corpses littering the top of the ziggurat were visible. We didnt even try and talk to them. I could tell Friar Brown was quite enraged.
Ill avoid using spells that hurt you so we can work together this time, Friar Brown said.
I nodded, a growing suspicion that Friar Brown knew a lot more about me than he was letting on settling in my mind. But the cultists were already rushing toward us, and it wasnt the time to ask about it.
Standing in front of Friar Brown, I reshaped Mercy into the long, curved blade like last time, extending the form to over half the staff. There were a few more cultists this time, and some wore armor, likely the guards for the villages.
If you can handle those in armor, the unarmored ones will be easier for me, I said.
There were probably a dozen cultists, and truth be told, only four were armored. I ignored them, trusting Friar Brown. When fighting outnumbered like we were, the best strategy is to keep moving and limit the number of people who can engage you at once.
I didnt focus on killing. My goal was to disable. With a blade as sharp as Mercy, it was rather easy to cut off limbs. I rolled under the first wave of wild swings and lashed out, slicing through a mans knee. He fell screaming in pain. I parried another blow that wouldve sent me sprawling, focused on the cultists bearing blunt weapons, since they were the most dangerous to me.
One of the armored cultists came toward me, but a blast of light from Friar Brown sent him stumbling. Glancing back, I saw that the other three armored cultists were pursuing Friar Brownhe was clearly seen as the greater threat. I trusted he could handle whatever the cultists threw at him, judging by the number hed wiped out on his own.
My momentary distraction gave an opening to a cultist with a sword, and he stabbed it into me. The blade punched through my illusion and my cloak, but did little else.
I kneed the man in the groin and he doubled over in pain. Then, I brought the butt of my blade-staff into his face as I spun away. I ignored the slight pain of the sword scraping along my bones and slashed another cultist.
In my wake, I left behind cultists with missing legs or arms, each grasping at the stumps as their bodies went into shock, effectively pulling them from the fight.
By the time I incapacitated the last cultist, Id ended up near the foot of the ziggurat, quite a ways away from Friar Brown. The field was covered in the dead and dying. I reshaped Mercy into something similar to a halberd and proceeded to finish off those still clinging to life. Friar Brown waited patiently for me to finish the grisly task, a hard look on his face. Around him lay the charred corpses of the guards. Whatever power hed used, it was clear it was quite effective.
You are surprisingly okay with this, I said as I lopped the last cultists head off. I get that these people are evil, but
I serve a god of purity, Friar Brown said. Not only are these people impure, they chose to turn on their fellow man out of some misguided attempt to garner the favor of a despicable god.
Not even knowing where to begin, I didnt press any further on the topic.
We climbed the ziggurat, and I was once again thankful for my lack of a stomach. The top was covered in hundreds of corpses, all appearing to have been drained of blood. I saw a large bowl with a drain in the bottom that still had the red remnants of being filled. No doubt the blood of all these villagers had been funneled down into the ziggurat.
What surprised me was that a spiral staircase led into the depths. Normally, entrances to ziggurats werent at the top. Taking the lead, I reshaped Mercy into a broad-tipped spear to stop the charge of any unseen foes. The spiral staircase extended far deeper than expected. I was certain we were below ground level, and yet the ziggurat continued on.
Too late did it occur to me that I hadnt acted like I couldnt see. My undead eyes were impervious to darkness, but Friar Brown never said anything. He himself was making his way just fine, probably using a spell or some skill that allowed him to see in low light.
We moved slowly, trying not to make a sound. After fifteen minutes of constant descent, a flickering of light became visible, along with a mumble of voices. I looked back and Friar Brown nodded for me to continue.
Our greatest advantage was that we could both move in utter darkness and hadnt given away our approach by carrying a torch. The voices grew louder.
I swear I heard something, a female voice said. I think something happened above.
Well, Im not going to check, a male voice said. Our orders are to protect this entrance.
Isnt part of protecting it checking on whats going on above? the female asked.
If something was wrong, someone wouldve come down, the male confidently said.
Wed approach as close as we could without turning the final corner. The stairs leveled out here, and I braced myself, raising my spear, and rushed around the corner.
Consider this your message, I said.
I caught them both by surprise, driving the thick spear tip of Mercy straight into the mans chest before either could react. He gasped, and the woman began to cry out in alarm. There was a crunchFriar Brown had slammed the ornate symbol of his staff into her head. The symbol came away covered in blood, undamaged.
I ripped my blade free and stabbed the man again, ensuring his quick death. Stepping over to the woman, I made sure she was well on her way to the undertaker. With the standing guards dead, we faced the door theyd been protecting. It was a heavy metal door, covered in some form of runes. This was a magic language, though not one I was familiar with. If it had been death magic based, I could have read it, but I wouldnt have been able to explain how I knew how to read death runes. That would no doubt raise a lot of questions.
Friar Brown stepped forward and examined the door. This is a blood runic. Its a locking spell that can only be opened by a blood sacrifice.
I glanced at the two bodies.
Dont worry, they will be fine, Friar Brown said, placing his hand on the door and closing his eyes. A glow of magic started to channel from him into the door, and a moment later, the door fell to dust.
I looked between the pile of dust and Friar Brown. What was that? You can just disintegrate doors?
Not quite. I just purged the magic out. It was an old door, so that process caused it to fall apart.
There was a short passage behind the door that ended in a shimmering barrier. Wed found a dungeon entrance. I let out a long sigh. Dungeons could really suck, though they were a good source of experience. I wished Id tucked my phylactery away from the friars cart before we headed up the mountain. If I died here, I dont think he would take me coming back in his cart very well.
Ah, a dungeon, Friar Brown nodded. That makes sense.
There were different kinds of dungeons in World of Magic, and they were an integrated part of the world. Dungeons that respawned creatures were very uncommon. Normally, there was only one per area the size of the kingdom, while dungeons like this were more common.
I stepped forward and put my hand on the barrier, a prompt appeared.
Dungeon of the Blood Smith
Do you wish to enter?
Y/N
Onward? I glanced back at Friar Brown who nodded. I selected yes and we stepped through the glimmering dungeon entrance.
Coming through the other side, I took in my surroundings. Id expected dilapidated ruins, but what greeted me instead was a well-lit corridor made of hewn stone. The lighting was eerie, casting the space in a red glow emitted from crystals mounted into the wall.
This place should not exist, Friar Brown said somberly. When Olattee came to this area, we purged the kingdom that had been here before us. Evidently, we missed some of the followers of the old god. They mustve been maintaining this temple all these centuries.
Who was this old god? The structure was quite impressive. Every so often, there was an arch of stone breaking up the hallway.
His name has been lost to time, but he was a blood god, obviously, Friar Brown explained. The kingdom that followed him was known as Slatar, comprised of primarily humans and dwarves. It was a very wicked kingdom. They would raid nearby lands and bring back hordes of slaves to be sacrificed on their great ziggurats. From those great rituals they would form weapons of incredible power they would then use to expand their power.
How did this kingdom come to take over such a place? I asked.
We came in from the Crystal Gulf, Friar Brown said, almost as if hed been there. Our navy crushed theirs and we landed. The attack was coordinated by all of the kingdoms surrounding this onetheyd long been a plague and had run out of allies. The followers of Olattee were a member of a theocracy across the ocean. The theocracy was not ruled by a single god though, it was a Pantheon. There was a falling out between Olattee and the rest of the Pantheon, and we were politely asked to leave.
So, you came here and picked a fight with another god? I asked in surprise.
Friar Brown chuckled. Essentially, we were told we could have this land if we helped to drive out Slatar. Olattee was a powerful faction in the old theocracy, our high priests and other clergy were more than a match for the blood kingdom. Not that it was an easy fight, we lost a lot of people, but in the end, we won.
This 𝓬ontent is taken from f(r)eeweb(n)ovel.𝒄𝒐𝙢