BTIV - Chapter 3

An arrow, the size of Micah's forearm and almost as thick, zipped through the air, slamming into the shoulder of a shade ogre and pinning the creature to the dungeon's rocky wall.  It bellowed in pain, dropping its war club and reaching up to grab the length of heavy wood embedded in its thick flesh.   Mackenzie took advantage of its distraction, lunging forward and thrusting her spear up under the monster's raised arm to bury it in the creature's chest.  Unfortunately, despite putting everything she had behind the thrust, her weapon only made it a hand's span into the ogre's leathery flesh.  Enough to draw blood and drain hit points, but not enough to end the dungeon dweller.

Devon shifted his stance slightly, bending his knees to add strength to his next blow before bringing his sword down in a two handed grip on the monster's right leg.   His blow carried more force than Mackenzie's, after all his build was more focused on body than her agility centric class, but it didn't yield a much greater result, spears were optimized for penetration, and his slash only hacked off a chunk of the ogre's thick hide.  It was bleeding from both wounds, but not badly enough to cripple it.

"Now," Micah called out, point with his spear toward the bleeding hole above its knee.  "Devon has broken its armor, take advantage of the opening to finish it off."

The four other adventurers in their group sprang into action.  Two mean, heavily muscled and wearing gleaming breastplates that Micah himself had enchanted, rushed at the injured monster battering it with heavy blows from the matching warhammers in their hands  Behind them, a heavily built woman, her large shield held high in front of her swung a spiked flail.  It flashed through the dim dungeon light, planting itself in the ogre's side before she ripped it back out with a flick of her wrist, taking a chunk of the monster with it.  Almost immediately the muscle and hide attached to the end of her weapon began to evaporate as her blessing converted it into temporary HP and points body attribute.

To Micah and Leeka's side, a man in a black robe held both of his hands palm upward as he finished whispering the words to a quick spell.  Through the crown, Micah could feel a tug at the mana around them and a ball of metal appeared in front of the spellcaster.  The surface of the sphere rippled like a pond in the wind and a moment later it began spitting out a torrent of thin but quick metal needles that stitched themselves across the ogre's unprotected face, claiming both of its eyes.

The monster bellowed in rage, biceps of its right arm bulging as it ripped the arrow from its left shoulder free.  Before Micah could shout a warning to the rest of the party, Leeka's second attack thrummed through the air, punching through the ogre's throat and into the stone wall of the dungeon.  It dropped the arrow in its hand, reaching up weakly to touch its ruined throat with its one good arm.  Then, with a rattling wheeze it slumped, finally succumbing to its injuries.

Devon stepped closer to the monster, his sword held high as he prepared to deliver a finishing blow, but Micah held up a single hand, motioning the warrior back.

"Hold," He called out.  "It's bleeding pretty badly from that last arrow.  Its important to confirm the kill, but you can confirm it by watching it expire without risking yourself as well.  Half the reason we finish off downed opponents is because some of the nastier breeds of monster will fake their own death.  Its very bad if you bypass them and let them heal and stalk you because they can jump into a fight when you aren't ready for them, but it's not a whole lot better if they lure you in close by feigning weakness only to attack you when you guard is down.  Some dungeon dwellers even have final attacks where they can sacrifice themselves to deal ruinous damage."

"If a monster has an injury like an open artery, a curse or poison that deals damage over time," Micah continued, "All that you need to do is step back and outlast it.  Wait a minute or two to let everyone recover and then slit its throat.  That way, if it survived the initial onslaught, the rest of the party will be ready to assist you when you move in."

Devon nodded, throat bobbing nervously and eyes wide as he stared at the downed shade ogre.  Micah didn't mention that he had experience with this particular species of monster.   They mostly attacked from ambush, but that was the extent of their guile.  He'd fought hundreds of the creatures, clearing dungeons with them over and over again, and he more or less knew as a fact that it didn't have the ability to feign death.  Still, it was better to instill good habits in the neophytes.  A lesson in caution now could save their lives later when Micah wasn't there to help them.

“You did a better job in that fight,” Micah said, patting the swordsman comfortingly on the shoulder.  “Actual combat isn’t like sparring with a training dummy or providing support to a higher level blessed.  You need to learn how your teammates move and fight so that you can let their abilities compliment yours.  Right now, against an enemy like a shade ogre that outclasses you, using Leeka’s ability to sight and tag it followed by Mackenzie’s spear to knock it off balance and your sundering blessing to shatter its armor to make an opening is the perfect combination.”

“Better doesn’t mean good,” Mackenzie cut in, wiping the blood from her spearpoint on the dead monster’s hide.  “We need to be able to finish an ogre on our own once Leeka shoots it.  If we can’t free her up to attack a second ogre, what even is our point in the dungeon?”

Micah bit his tongue.  Mack was right.  A proper team would have used their mage, Lewon, to blind and constrain opponents while their four melee fighters held monsters at bay and Leeka thinned out any oncoming attackers.  Forcing Leeka to rescue the rest of the team negated most of the advantage they provided.

“You’re here to learn,” Micah replied, swallowing a sigh.  Together, the six of them could take down an onkert, maybe two.  The ape-like creatures were some of the simplest daemons he had been able to summon, but a brensen or a luoca would be more than enough to wipe out the entire team.  “Right now no one but Drekt, Trevor and I are ready to fight the monsters that are coming.  The six of you need training, but so does everyone.  Levels and combat experience, as much as possible.  That’s why you’re here.”

“About that.”  Mackenzie nodded at the door leading out of the room.  It was massive, covered in frescos of humans fighting what looked like a giant scorpion with a large angry sun looming behind it.  “This looks like a boss chamber to me.  You’ve already had to step in twice against shade ogres, so-”

“I’ll be taking over this fight from the start,” Micah cut in, smiling.  “All of you need to make sure to get at least one hit in so that you get experience, but leave the bulk of the battle to me.  The six of you will be strong enough to fight something like the Obsidian Striker someday, but for now what’s important is that you earn a couple more levels.”

“I can help!” Devon blurted out, raising his left arm to show the heavily enchanted metal shield he had strapped there.  “Once I hit it a couple of times, my blessing will activate and my armor will start to increase.  So long as I keep stabbing it, I should be able to take a couple of blows meant for you.”

Micah bit back a chuckle.  Behind Devon, Lewon and Leeka were nodding gravely.  Even Mackenzie was gripping her spear tightly, a look of determination on her face.

The rest of the team might be weak, but they had the right attitude.  The Third Prince was coming, and it would bring with it a storm that would engulf the entire planet.  On his own, Micah had the power to fight through the daemon prince’s subordinates, but he doubted that he would actually be able to stop the creature himself.  He would need help.  Against the daemons it summoned, the armies of Pereston, and most critically, in the final battle against the monster itself.

“Not yet,” he replied.  “But soon.  Your blessing lets you build up armor by hitting an opponent and rending theirs.  Once you can take a hit or two from the Obsidian Striker without the benefit of your bonus armor, then I’ll let you participate in the boss fight.  Until then, well.  I know you’re good at dodging, but I don’t want to risk anyone on this team.  You might get a little less combat experience from not fighting, but making sure you’re alive to participate in the next dungeon run is more important.”

Devon nodded, his throat working silently.  Despite the man’s bravado, Micah could see the tension in the man’s neck and the way his hands were clutching at the hilt of his sword like his life depended upon it.  Soon, but not yet.

“Just follow my lead,” Micah said with a wink, walking past the rest of the team and pushing the door open.  “We’ll have the six of you up to snuff in no time.”

As soon as Micah touched it, the door to the final room of the dungeon seemed to almost open of its own accord, unleashing a blast of heat that forced the rest of the party to take a step backward.  He continued onward, unperturbed.

The orderly stone brick of the dungeon disappeared almost immediately, replaced abruptly by rough basalt with veins of lava shot through it.  Outside of the molten rock, there wasn’t any light in the hellish landscape, giving everything a sinister reddish hue.

Micah took a deep breath, enjoying his last lungful of air that wasn’t tainted by brimstone, and began jogging into the room.  As he moved, he began casting his defensive spells.  Air Supply, Regeneration, and Haste.  Enough to keep the toxic fumes from dulling his mind and slowing his steps while ensuring that any errant blow didn’t deal any real damage.

The ground beneath his feet rumbled, and Micah triggered Foresight, jumping high into the air a second before a pair of massive black pincers broke through the ground followed a moment later by the large rounded head of an irate scorpion.  Before the rest of its body could surface, Micah cast Flight, using the spell to jerk to the side just before the Obsidian Striker’s stinger darted through the air toward where he had just been flying.

A fraction of a second after the stinger struck open air, the whipcrack of its passing sent a gust of wind past Micah.

A grin broke out onto his face.  Maybe it wasn’t so bad that the rest of his party wasn’t ready to fight the Obsidian Striker with him yet.  It wasn’t the most challenging dungeon boss in the high level dungeons that the Silver Wolves routinely cleared for the local government, but it certainly was the most fun.

His spear flashed out three times in an eyeblink, each strike leaving a fist sized hole in the gigantic scorpion’s chitin.  It retracted its stinger before its acrid purple blood began to ooze out, but Micah knew that he had struck his mark.

“Not so fast,” He whispered, diving toward the glossy black dungeon boss.  It glared hatred up at him, reaching up with its claws to snatch Micah from the air, but compared to lightning fast precision strikes of the stinger, its pincers seemed to be moving in slow motion.

Micah didn’t need Haste or the rainbow outlines of Foresight to track its attacks, but they turned a winnable battle into child’s play.

He jerked to the right in the air, triggering a pair of Pressure Spears that struck the joint between the Striker’s right arm and its claw.  The spells weren’t quite strong enough to destroy the limb entirely, but the crackle of shattering armor signaled that they were more than enough to cripple the limb.

At the entrance to the boss room, the newbie party was getting oriented.  It didn’t take Leeka long to fire an arrow at the monster, but for the rest of them, Micah would have to wait a bit before delivering the killing blow.

The unfortunate reality of training lower-leveled blessed was twofold.  Micah needed to restrict his area effect attacks to avoid accidentally killing his allies, and he needed to hold back long enough for them to land at least one attack.  Otherwise, they wouldn’t get a share of the experience from the boss fight.

He dodged to the side, avoiding a second strike from the monster’s stinger as well as the hissing purple blood that flew from its previous wounds before landing on the back of its shell.

Of course, if one of his trainees didn’t hit the boss, that only meant more experience for him, but by now, Micah was at the point where a victory of this level didn’t mean all that much.  It would help a little, but any creature below the level that could threaten an army barely made him break a sweat.  If he were to rely on creatures of this caliber, he would need to kill at least a thousand before he started to make any real headway.

Lewon’s metal needles zipped through the air, shattering and leaving dents in the scorpion’s chitin but failing to penetrate.

Micah thrust his spear downward, jamming it an arms’ length into the monster’s back before leaping to the side.  He’d need to talk to the mage about the spell.  The needles were fast enough, but there wasn’t enough weight or sharpness behind them.  They’d shred lightly armored foes but barely inconvenience a more powerful monster.

The spot where he had been standing burst with reddish yellow light and heat rolled over Micah.  The attack wouldn’t have been enough to do serious damage to him, but it would have burned his clothes, and more importantly it would have made him look foolish and vulnerable in front of the trainees.

Above the scorpion’s back, a sphere of yellowish white appeared.  Energy pulsed off of it in waves, and Micah’s skin began to blister and burn only for Regeneration to immediately heal the damage.

A dart of rainbow light exploded from the sphere, streaking toward the newbies faster than even Micah’s eyes could follow.  He stabbed downward with his spear again, shattering thick black chitin like it were nothing more than a layer of morning frost on a wash basin back home in Pereston as he shouted.

“Left!”

The lower level blessed didn’t hesitate, diving to the side a half second in front of a blast of light from the sphere.  It traced a line down the center of the cavern, leaving a deep furrow filled with molten rock in its wake.

Micah’s shoes slid along the smooth armor of its back, Gust Step driving him forward as Micah’s spear jolted forward and back like a sewing needle, tracing a zig zagging line of destruction across the Obsidian Striker’s back.  From the entrance to the boss chamber, screams pursed Micah’s lips.  Clearly one of the team hadn’t been fast enough to dodge the Striker’s attack despite his warning.

He began mouthing the words to Vacuum.  Injury was always a risk to fighting in a dungeon above your level, even when a more powerful blessed was there to guide you.  Many adventurers might shrug off their wounded trainee and blame them for not being quick enough.  After all, a half second’s warning in a dungeon was a luxury that almost no one was afforded in a proper fight.

Above Micah, the sphere of light seemed to burst, firing dozens of finger thin streams of energy that jerked wildly back and forth across the scorpion’s back as they sought to corner the spearman.  In their wake, they left thin lines of red and yellow that radiated the heat of an angry sun, but otherwise dealt no damage to the boss monster.

The air rushed past Micah’s face as he leapt, using the power of Flight to make tight, hairpin turns in order to dodge the streamers of cutting light.  In the distance, he could still hear the screams of his injured companion.

Micah didn’t blame his trainees.  They weren’t fast enough, even with a warning, but that was on him.  The dungeon was far above their level, and that’s why he was there with them.  His job was to distract the boss so each of them could get a hit in on the beast in order to earn the level’s they would need. The order of blame was simple.  He hadn’t drawn enough of the creature’s ire so it attacked the weaker members of the party.  The fault lay with him.

Vacuum snapped into existence destroying the back quarter of the giant scorpion.  It stumbled, suddenly unable to support its own weight as its stinger and rear legs all but disappeared.  The glowing orb dimmed, its surface flashing chaotically as pain robbed it of its control over the power.

He dove, spear leading the way, Micah used Flight to power is way downward toward the mess of broken armor and mangled flesh that had been the creature’s lower back.  He jammed his spear into the steaming meat of the scorpion’s back, letting it sink as deep as his grip on the haft before taking a deep breath.

Then, Micah’s arms bulged and he ripped the spear sideways, taking one step and then another across the boss’ back, weapon trailing behind him as he picked up speed.  The scorpion shuddered, letting out a pitiful mewling groan, but Micah was undeterred as his jog turned into a run, churning and shredding the exposed flesh as he went.

Words to a spell spilled from his lips like a waterfall as Micah sprung from the injured segment of the monster a half second before the undulating sphere of light lashed out with another beam.  This time, there was no armor to absorb the severe heat from the attack, and the scorpion thrashed once more as it accidentally seared and charred its own damaged flesh.

The scorpion shuddered once and the ball of light winked out.  Micah didn’t know whether it ran out of mana for the ability or if the pain from attacking itself disrupted the spellform, but it hardly mattered.  The end result was that the critically injured monster had lost the most versatile of its weapons.

Binding Vines burst forth from the volcanic rock, wrapping themselves around the injured dungeon boss’ claws and dragging it to the ground.  It shook itself, bellowing helplessly as it struggled ineffectually to free its trapped limbs as Micah took to the air once more, this time flying toward the entrance.

The ground was still bubbling from the Obsidian Striker’s earlier attack, but the rest of the group had pulled away from the line of molten rock.  Leeka had her bow at ready and Lewon had a melon sized ball of liquid metal floating in the air in front of him as the two of them stood guard, but the rest of the group was clustered around where Devon lay on the ground.

HIs right leg, from the knee down, was simply gone.

One of the warhammer wielding fighters had tied a tourniquet around his leg, and his sister had his chest propped up so that he hopefully wouldn’t lose too much blood while the other two melee fighters poured one potion after another on the charred stump.

“Go,” Micah said, touching down next to the six of them.  “The Obsidian Striker is restrained.  Finish it and I’ll take care of Devon.”

“But,” Mack began looking down at her brother.  The man was barely conscious.  Blood dribbled from his lower lip where he had half bit through it to avoid screaming in pain.

Micah handed the woman her spear, shaking his head.

“He’ll be fine,” Micah said, dropping his own weapon as he kneeled down next to the injured man.  “I suspect he’ll walk away from this with some nightmares, but as bad as a wound like this looks, I can fix him.”

She looked at her brother one last time before nodding and grabbing her weapon from Micah and leaving him alone with the injured warrior.

“Still,” Micah said, casting Regeneration on Devon’s leg.  “You should be careful in the future.  You’re not gonna have someone my level along on every hunt, and even I wouldn’t be able to fix this if the wound were more than a couple hours old.”

Devon’s eyes rolled back up into his head and he slumped to the ground, breath coming in short sharp gasps.  Micah nodded and began casting Panacea.  The initial Sunfire attack had almost certainly seared the man’s nerves to the point where they were unable to report pain anymore.  Regeneration fixed that, but unfortunately it was a necessary step.

Without using magic to reopen the partially healed wound, he couldn’t return the man’s body to its proper form.  Only then could Panacea latch onto the patient’s self-image and restore the man to how he truly should be.

Under Micah’s hands, Devon shuddered, his back arching and stiffening as Panacea finished casting.  Even as Micah watched, a pair of bones began to grow from the man’s severed knee.  A second later Devon’s flesh squirmed and began to expand down over the steadily expanding shin.

Five minutes passed, and Micah needed to cast Panacea a second time in order to finish repairing the lost limb, but just as Devon’s bare leg, pink and untouched by sun or callouses, finished growing, Leeka landed the killing blow on the Obsidian Striker, finishing their foray into the Dungeon.

Micah stood up, stretching his back and summoning his status screen to check his progress.

Age 21 [ERROR] / 35

Class/Level Divine Candidate 54

XP 700,90501,600,000

HP 9454/9454

Class Specialty

Chronomancer, Enchanter

Attributes

Body 58, Agility 58, Mind 117, Spirit 116

Attunement

Moon 105  Sun 70  Night 91

Mana

Moon 7650/9616 Sun 9536/9536 Night  8,197/9638

Affinities

Time 10

Tier V - Foresight 19, Time Echos 3, Temporal Transfer 3, Haste 16
Tier VI - Temporal Vortex 14, Temporal Stutter 7, Stasis 6
Tier VII - Time Leash 7, Weave of Fate 5,

Tier VIII - Deja Vu 5

Wood 8

Tier I - Refresh 14, Mending 13, Plant Weave 21

Tier II - Augmented Mending 20, Root Spears 14

Tier III - Heal 13, Paralytic Sting 6, Explosive Thicket 12

Tier IV - Regeneration 12, Healing Wave 6, Poison Fog 15

Tier V - Panacea 7, Coma 6, False Life 3

Tier VI - Binding Vines 11, Infest 4

Air 7

Tier I - Gale 11, Air Knife 24, Air Supply 6
Tier II - Wind Shield 11, Sonic Bolt 18

Tier III - Updraft 5, Pressure Spear 15, Sonic Orb 14

Tier IV - Flight 14, Wind Blade 12

Tier V - Vacuum 6

Blessings

Mythic Blessing of Mursa - Blessed Return, Ageless Folio

Skills

Anatomy  10

Arcana   20

Enchanting  36

Fishing   2
Herbalism  5

Librarian  5

Ritual Magic  39

Spear   41

-Wind Spear 13
-TITS  22

Spellcasting  51

He clenched his fist.  It wasn’t enough.  Not against the Third Prince’s armies and certainly not against the Prince itself.  Micah needed to get stronger.