Chapter 13
You think what appeared to be a small ziggurat is actually one of the large ones that was buried? I asked Friar Brown as we continued into the dungeon.
I hope not. However, my gut tells me its likely. Friar Brown peered into an empty alcove.
How bad is it if thats what it is?
Really bad, Friar Brown answered. The great ziggurats were focus points of immense power. They would slowly gather power from everything that bled around them, even passively. This led to a culture of bloodletting, and even sitting out in the wilderness like this, the ziggurat wouldve gathered quite a bit of power over the time that has passed. Even amateur cultists and smiths could very easily turn that power into weapons and artifacts of immense destruction. Likely, human sacrifices they performed at the top for the ritual were needed to activate the dormant power of the ziggurat.
I swallowed hard. Just how powerful are these artifacts and weapons?
Powerful enough that when Slatar fell, the few remaining artifacts and weapons were either locked away by the church or stolen by rival empires. You said you came from the kingdom to the south. He eyed my staff. Their weapons have been lost to time, though they were similar to what you havethe blades could be reshaped. Yours is likely a replica based off of that. If you had the actual weapon, it would be immensely more powerful.
If only. I let out a chuckle.
Dont wish that, Friar Brown scolded. If you wielded such a weapon, I would have no choice but to take it from you whether you wanted me to or not.
Noted, I said, hoping my nervousness didnt show. Id found Mercy at the end of a very long quest that dealt with the past of that kingdom. There was a very real chance my blade-staff was the weapon he spoke of, though I was certain it had gone through too many changes since its creation to be recongnized.
The funny story about that weapon, in particular, Friar Brown continued, not seeming to have picked up on anything, is that it was one of the few weapons not looted when the kingdom fell. It had been given as a gift to the last ally of Slatar a long time ago, long before we invaded. When Slatar and the kingdom to the south were embroiled in a nasty Civil War, it was what gave us the opportunity to strike. By the time the dust settled and Slatar was destroyed, there was nothing left for the kingdom to the south to ally with.
His explanation soothed my consciousness a little. A kingdom evil enough to ally with a civilization that thrived off of the sacrifice of innocence and bloodletting couldnt have been that good of a kingdom.
The complex we were exploring was beautiful and horrifying in its own right. Many of the alcoves were full of statues depicting either horrific scenes or noble-looking figures. The dungeon was oddly empty otherwise, but that was only because we were still in the beginning of it.
Turning a corner, we came across our first foes. They looked and moved like zombies, but were different.
These are animated husks, Friar Brown whispered as we got our first look at the shambling figures. They are often powered by the power of the ziggurat themselves and rise from sacrifices made on the altars.
Though I couldnt tell their levels, I knew we could handle them, and the hallways were wide enough for me to effectively use Mercy. I once again shaped the blade into a long, curved weapon. Taking the lead, I charged the small group of animated husks.
Slashing, I was surprised by how much resistance their bodies provided against my sharp blade.
Leaving a deep gash in the torso of one of the husks, I dodged to the side to avoid reaching hands, and slashed out at another husks knees. Again, my blade was stopped, and while it cut deep, it failed to sever the joint. I ripped Mercy free, but not before a fist slammed into my back and sent me tumbling away.
The blow was powerful, cracking some of my ribs. These things are tough, I said, my lack of lungs ensuring I didnt have to catch my breath, otherwise, such a blow wouldve no doubt knocked it out of me.
Slashing weapons dont work well against them,. Friar Brown smashed one aside with his staff with incredible strength. Think of them more like fighting small trees or skeletons.
That wouldve been useful a few moments ago, I grumbled. Reshaping Mercy took a moment to turn it into something more usefula weapon similar to a halberd.
It builds character, Friar Brown chuckled.
As Mercy reformed, a holy light came from Friar Brown and suffused the blade. I winced away from it out of instinct.
Dont worry, it wont affect you, Friar Brown assured me.
His words caught me by surprise, and I looked at him in confusion. But the moment passed as my attention was drawn back to the animated husks closing in on us.
Stepping in front of Friar Brown to give him time to cast, I attacked our aggressors. The halberd wasnt a weapon for close combat, but the shaft did provide me with a lot of defensive options, and the reach allowed me to land powerful blows.
When wed initially attacked the animated husks, only a few had been engaged, but the noise had drawn the attention of the rest, and now a half dozen were barreling toward us. A pulse from Friar Brown sent the front-most staggering back, and I used the opportunity to cleave open one of their chests. My blade wasnt as sharp in this configuration, but the magic Friar Brown had suffused into it ate into the animated husk.
The powerful holy magic rapidly expanded the massive wound in the husks chest. I made a quick note to keep the blade very far away from me.
My next attack brought down another husk, but four more closed in, forcing me to fall into a defensive position to keep them from swarming Friar Brown and me. Occasionally I was still able to strike out, cleaving off limbs, but none were lethal blows. When I felt I was about to be overwhelmed, a storm of small projectiles exploded out from Friar Brown and ripped through the remaining husks.
The last husk fell and magic from Friar Browns restoration spell filled me. My fractured bones repaired themselves, and the dull pain they emitted faded.
We continued on until we came to a courtyard with a fountain glowing with red liquid. Is that blood?
Probably not, Friar Brown said. The cult is just very obsessed with red colors. Its likely water infused with blood magic. They would never waste actual blood in such a way.
Seems a little vain to me. I shook my head. Why waste the magic and resources on something that very few people ever see.
Then something changed. Wed been crossing the courtyard towards the pool when the fountain quit running and the liquid seemed to search.
Friar Brown groaned. Slime.
The water congealed into a semitransparent red blob taller than I was. I too, sighed. Slimes were the worst.
***
Why wont this thing just fucking die! I said half an hour later. The slime refused to give up. Even with enchantments from Friar Brown enhancing Mercy, and the constant bombardment of spells from the friar, the stupid slime wouldnt die.
Every time it seemed like wed finally killed it, the irritating creature would surge back together, renew its attack. Twice I had been sucked into it, only to have Friar Brown pull me out, each time finding myself covered in disgusting, oozing red slime.
In my frustration, I did something maybe I shouldnt have. Id grown enough levels at this point that I had a little extra death magic. So, when Friar Browns spell ran out on Mercy, and before he recast it, I channeled a small amount of death magic into my blade just as I plunged it deep into the slime. My hope was that the death magic might counter some of its regeneration. To my alarm, it left behind a dark stain in the center of the slime.
Ripping Mercy out in a savage arc, I hoped Friar Brown wouldnt notice. He didnt say anything as he re-enchanted my weapon and the fight continued. Fortunately, it seemed my guess had been right, the slime shuddered as the death magic ate away at it. Though blood magic had its similarities to death magic, everything was still weak to death.
The rot at the center of the slime finally gave us the edge we needed. After several more minutes of slashing, stabbing, and blasting, the slime collapsed into a wave of disgusting red goop that swept out and over our feet.
Why was that thing so hard to kill? I grumbled. Slimes can be tricky, but that was ridiculous.
Blood elemental slimes tend to be that way, Friar Brown explained. They are made with the left-over blood of the sacrifices after it has been used in a ritual. The blood magic gives them incredible vitality.
Is there a hard counter to them? I asked, before realizing terminology like that might be strange to Friar Brown.
Not that I am aware of. Blood magic is powerful in that sense. While living things are always weak to death, blood slimes have a higher level of resistance to death magic than most creatures.
I lost a step when he mentioned death magic. He mustve seen what I had used. Though it also couldve been just a little magical explanation, he was right: death magic was the counter to a lot of things. But taking what he said along with everything else I knew and seen him, I realized he must know. That didnt make sense to me. Clearly he was much more than he appeared, and he was a part of the church. So if he knew I was undead, surely he wouldve blasted me into ashes by this point.
Using the death magic in this fight had been another stupid risk. I had just grown so frustrated with the fight. Though I knew in my head, the chances that he at least suspected if not knew I was not what I was acting like I was, I continued the charade. On the off chance, he did not know it would allow me to slip away once we were done with this accursed place. And if he knew I was pretty certain, it didnt matter what I did.
I continued on. Friar Brown might be the death of me, but if he did know so far he had shown me nothing but kindness.
The fountain courtyard became eerily quiet now that the slime was dead. There was only one exit, leading in the direction wed been heading. Around the edges of the courtyard were mosaics depicting horrific scenes. Often with a heroic-looking figure wielding a remarkable looking weapon as they mowed down hundreds of people.
We encountered a couple more slimes and dozens of husks as we continued deeper into the dungeon. We didnt encounter any living cultists until we reached the first dungeon boss. The room he was in was as wide as the slimes courtyard and quite long. Spaced evenly down the length of the room, about ten meters apart, were beautifully carved pillars of stone reaching up to the ceiling high above us. It was quite the elaborate room.
A cultist sneered when we entered. Friar Brown, I see you are here causing problems again.
The man sat on a chair at the far end of the elongated room. He looked fragile; his cultist robes draped over his frame like he wasnt much more than a skeleton. The actual boss was the monstrous form sitting next to him. It may have once been a bear, but now it reminded me of something between that and the rat-ogres Id fought before.
Ah, Nicholas, you make sense, Friar Brown said, completely unphased by the hulking creature unfolding itself next to the cultist. You always had such a twisted sense of right and wrong, which I suppose answers quite a lot. I should have listened to the citizens of your village Now, before we begin with the unpleasantness, who is in charge of this place?
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