Eric made it back to the estate by lunch time. Making his way to the kitchen, he saw Mari and two other servants whose names he did not know, Maids under her command, he assumed, working on preparing meals for the staff. “Good day.”
Mari turned and curtsied. “Ah, welcome back. What can we do for you?”
“Just lunch, please,” Eric replied. “I’ll eat whatever staff meal is being prepped. No need to go fancy or over the top for me.”
The two other Maids with Mari glanced at her, and Mari just cleared her throat and dipped her head. “Of course. Where would you like to take it?”
“The patio,” Eric replied. “Thank you.” He departed and made his way upstairs, outside, and to the covered section of the estate grounds, outside of Naomi’s workshop, and underneath the expansion that was her and James’ bedroom. Eric sat down on one of the cushioned chairs and activated some heatstones in a brazier nearby.
He took in a deep breath and stared out at the falling snow while he thought about the future. Less than a year until the diplomatic meeting with two foreign superpowers, one year and some change until The Obsidian Spire would become accessible—a roaming dungeon he heard of, but did not have the chance to visit—four years until the war broke out, seven until the White Keep was accessible…and then twelve until the Titan was free and the world was destroyed.
Twelve years seems like a long time, Eric thought. I think we’ll be able to clear each mega dungeon in time. No, I’m sure of it. We have to be close to the bottom of the Twilight Depths. Our progress is rapid. Ideally, we get Trok ready for the war so that we can be absent and travel to complete the other mega dungeons. Bhlast’s will be easy to access—just a few day’s flight on Alicorn-back. Flescion’s is further away, but again, not too hard to access now that Shannon has set up her teleport Skill.
He let out a sigh. All we need to deal with are the Allied Cities of Chisholm and the Empire of Pwish. The Allied Cities…getting to that mega dungeon is going to be tricky, with a conflict brewing.
Eric had come to terms with the fact that, in all likelihood, completing the Golden Depths in the capital of the Allied Cities, Virulon, would not happen until after he had resolved the sour relations between Trok and the two city-states whose activities—drugs and slaves, respectively—he had disrupted. Tersirin, and Helkino. The mega-dungeon in the Empire, Riptide Cove, would be impossible to clear until after the war was fully resolved.
Closing his eyes, he took in a deep breath of the crisp, snow-filled air, and let it out slowly.
Well, Twilight Depths, then diplomacy, then we have our pick of Bhlast or Flescion. Indedroma?
[Hmm?]
Can you tell me anything about how deep those other mega dungeons are?
[REDACTED.]
Maybe if I try guessing—
[Guessing numbers won’t work. Naomi tried it with me already.]
Eric looked to his right as the door opened, and Mari came out with a plate stacked with three hot, steaming slices of bread, and a bowl with a thick stew. She set both down on the table to his side. “Here you are, Eric,” she said with a smile.
Eric gave her an appreciative nod. “Thanks. How are things around here with the new staff?”
Mari stood up straight and grinned. “It has been a fantastic experience. I am effectively a Castellan in all but Class title, here at this estate. Not to mention I am making great strides in cozying up to the old-blood families. I imagine, once the older of the old-blood pass away, and the various firstborn children rise to take their place, I could leverage my position to take up a Castellan role at their estate.”
Eric grabbed a hunk of bread and began dipping it into the stew. “Excellent. I’m glad for you. And Benson? How is he?”
Mari leaned in closer and whispered, “He is having the time of his life with his lover. I imagine he’ll be Castellan of the Ghulara estate once that comes.” She pulled back and a tight-lipped frown crossed her face. “How…how do you feel, about that?”
“About what?”
“You all going away from one another in the future. It is bound to happen, eventually.”
Eric shrugged, and looked at the main house past Mari. “I think we’ll keep this property if we are allowed to or can buy it, and try to do something every week. It’s important to keep in touch with your friends.” He looked at Mari. “Thank you for the food. I’ll take my dish downstairs when I’m done.”
Mari bowed and departed, and Eric dug into his repast.
***
Evening fell quickly, and Eric had dinner with his allies and their spouses, and then retired to his chamber with Misty. Eric made sure to set up a simple device Naomi had rigged for him—an ambient-mana powered gas flame, with a green color thanks to copper in the setup somewhere. It would be a good focus target for future teleportation.
The two spent a good amount of time just indulging in each other’s company, laying on the bed, and being present.
Misty finished sharing about her patients for the day, and then let out a deep sigh before snuggling into the crook of Eric’s shoulder. “I could just use a lazy day.”
“Why not?” Eric asked as he ran a hand along her back, scratching ever-so-delicately with his nails and eliciting shivers from her. “Why not just take a day off? You don’t have to work.”
Misty let out a contented sigh. “I’d want to spend the day off with you, but you have that hunt for a mana beast tomorrow.”
“Are there any friends you would want to see and spend time with?”
Misty nodded into the crook of his arm. “I could just take a spa day and visit some places in the upper-city to get pampered.”
“Go for it, and have a girls’ day. I’m sure you could convince Shannon, Naomi, and Isabella to go with you.” He squeezed her a bit. “Make those bonds all the stronger.”
She looked up at his eyes and gazed into them. “You don’t need your friends with you?”
Eric shook his head. “No need for anyone but me. It’s just some mana beasts. I can handle that just fine myself. Plus, I’ll have a Skyknight with me.”
At that, Misty smiled. “Well, I’ll ask them.” She then moved her hand down Eric’s chest and over his abdomen, lightly drumming with her fingers. “My handsome husband, keeping the kingdom safe…keeping me safe.”
Eric kissed her on the head. “Anything to do that.”
She rolled over so that she was sitting on top of him, and leaned down, giving him a passionate kiss. When she pulled away with that lascivious smile, Eric knew exactly what she wanted, and as she slid back and took hold of him, he knew he was in for a treat.
***
Morning came abruptly and Eric wanted it to go away. He gently extricated himself from the tangle of limbs and did his morning ablutions. By the time he was done and getting his Gear on, Misty was awake, and he gave her another kiss before departing.
Heading to the citadel, Eric made his way up to the Skyknight tower and found one of the sergeants. “I need an Alicorn rider for the day.”
The sergeant, a middle-aged woman with grey hair tied up in a tight bun, turned to him. “Ah, knight-errant, we were told to expect you. You’ll be going with Skyknight Barrows.”
Eric didn’t recognize the name so he just gave a curt nod. “Very well. Let’s get going.”
The sergeant took him over to one of the stables: a thirty-foot-cube area that an Alicorn could fit in easily. There was a thick curtain over one aperture on the outside wall which kept the blistering cold at bay but allowed for the mount to come and go. The Alicorn was laying down, munching lazily on some strandvine shoots that had been harvested for their inner, thread-like fibers, leaving just the husk as easy animal feed. There were blankets stacked neatly, and a raised bed with plenty of creature comforts surrounding it—shelves with books, a portrait in a small frame that showed a young man hugging his mother, and a small table with line-art sketches of buildings pinned down by small rocks.
“Barrows!” the sergeant shouted. “Where in the depths is he?” she muttered.
“Sorry!” The Skyknight came around the corner, from another stall, and stopped in place as he saw Eric. “Oh, erm. Hi?” He was probably in his early-twenties, and his crop of medium-length, black hair complemented a sallow face in a way that screamed to Eric he would be part of a specific counter-culture movement back on Earth.
“Attention!” the sergeant barked out, and Barrows came to, feet together, body stock-straight, and arms at his sides. “This is the knight-errant.”
Eric took a few steps forward and said, “At ease.” He then held out his hand. “Call me Eric, please.”
The young man shook Eric’s hand. “Percival, if you like.” He looked past Eric to the sergeant. “Pardon me, but what is my task?”
“You’re being assigned to the knight-errant, Percy,” the woman replied.
Eric barely heard the man mutter, “I hate that nickname.”
The sergeant continued, “The Queen has stated that if there are further services required to ferry Summoned from place to place, you are the man for the job.”
“Erm, thank you,” Percy said as he looked back to Eric. “I guess I’m at your service?”
“I’ll notify you ahead of time,” Eric replied. “Now, we’re heading south. Caravans are being attacked by mana beasts—you and I are going to take care of it. Or, rather, you’ll get me there, and when we find the thing, I’ll take care of it.”
Percy nodded and his face hardened into a no-nonsense, chiseled facade. “Understood. I’ll get Felon ready immediately.”
Eric looked at the man as he walked past him. “You named your Alicorn Felon?”
Percy got over to the huge, two-horned horse and began petting its jawline, and it pushed its head into his chest. “Sort of? He named himself that.”
“That must be this bonded Class I’ve heard about,” Eric said as the sergeant departed, and he took a few steps toward the Alicorn. He stopped as it moved its head to be straight-on with him, and snorted. “Am I allowed to approach?”
Percy chuckled and scratched the mount between the ears. “He’s just posturing. You must be considered a threat on some instinctual level. It’ll be fine.” He leaned into the mount’s shoulder and said, “Hey, Felon, come on, now. He isn’t that scary.”
“Wait,” Eric said. “Can you…can you talk to one another?”
“Oh yeah,” Percy replied. “Felon is a bit of a chatterbox.” Percy tapped his temple, then patted the Alicorn’s head. “All Skyknights have a mental connection. We can talk tele…whatchamacalit.”
“Telepathically?” Eric asked.
“Right, that. Felon basically says that you scare him, because there is some weird smell about you.”
“Not sure what it would be,” Eric said. “My clothes were recently laundered.”
“It’s death,” Percy replied as he began moving about the space and setting up a saddle that was unlike the one Eric had seen before. It wasn’t a large, circular platform that would be lashed around the torso—this was more like a regular horse saddle, albeit with three humps for seats. “You smell like death.”
“I mean, I am a Reaper,” Eric replied as he stay put. “Sorry, Felon, but I can’t change how I smell.”
“He says that it just caught him off guard at first, is all. You can get closer. In fact, if we want to go faster, help me with this strap…”
***
Hours passed as Eric and Percy atop Felon raced across the skies. The ice-cold wind was biting, and Eric was very glad for the Alicorn’s ability to stop inclement weather around them, as there was no snow or fog impairing movement or vision. But, the bitter chill was still there, and Eric wrapped his fur cloak tighter around himself.
They were following the southern trade road, which wasn’t paved or cobbled, but rather denoted by two deep gouges that acted like drainage ditches on either side of the packed dirt. Eric kept his vision tuned to Reaper’s Flamesight and saw all of the heat signatures of animals below in the frozen grasslands: many of whom were barely flickers in burrows, while a few like ermines and foxes roamed for those hidden repositories of sleeping meat.
“Any clue on what mana beast we’re looking for out here?” Percy shouted back to Eric.
“No idea,” Eric replied. “I’ve dealt with wyverns before, and a gryphon—”
“No gryphons this far from the mountains,” Percy replied. “Wyverns are in the northern ranges.”
Eric wasn’t sure what else there could be, and he was going to reply, but Felon dove down rapidly, and Eric’s guts went into his chest from the sudden descent. He heard a trembling, mighty roar up above him, and realized that the Alicorn had just prevented the duo from being grabbed out of the sky by some predator.
Percy leaned down and grabbed the handle and guard of a lance, though there was no shaft or pointed tip. As he pulled it up and couched it under his bicep, the flare of his bright-yellow mana surged into the object and the damaging, pointy end of the lance suddenly sprung into place—thirty feet long and easily able to clear the Alicorn’s head. The mount wheeled around and hovered in place, and Eric got his first sight of the thing that tried to attack them. His eyes went wide.
[There…there aren’t that many left…]
The creature that had swooped down from above was a drake. Huge body, massive forelegs and claws, back legs that were tucked up along the body for aerodynamic purposes, though if extended were very long and lanky, huge leathery wings that spanned hundreds of feet and flapped with tremendous force, and a sinuous neck which had, on the front, a reptilian mouth.
“Run!” Eric shouted. “Fly!”
He knew that the thing confronting them was in a completely different realm from the two of them. Drakes were the apex predators of Elyndor—aside from dragons who were the most powerful but so few existed they couldn’t be considered apex anymore—and if they had a level put to them, they would easily be in the thousands.
Felon dove, and Eric looked back as the mammoth, maroon drake chased them through the skies. The weather-clearing aura vanished, and Eric was able to keep track of the huge beast through his Reaper’s Flamesight despite the fact that the trio were now diving into clouds of bitter white frost.
“We’ll lose it!” Percy shouted. “No way it can track Felon and me!”
Eric knew the man was wrong. He racked his brain, trying to figure out why a drake would be attacking caravans on the road. The form got closer and closer, and Eric shouted, “Up! Go up! Sharp ascent!”
The Alicorn rapidly adjusted and shot skyward, and the huge drake thanks to its bulk wasn’t able to turn as rapidly, and was now beneath them, climbing up into the sky with mighty flaps, whilst Felon didn’t actually rely on the phantasmal, glittering wings, and instead was using some mana fueled flight Eric understood as a Skill. It got them above the drake , and Eric saw what was wrong.
From this angle, even with his Trait, he could see the beast’s back. It was covered in the rot and decay of the plague god. Then, an idea flickered in his mind. He shouted, “Get me within five-hundred feet!”
“What?” Percy asked.
Eric untied himself from the saddle. “Just be ready to swoop and catch me. If not, I’ll be able to get down and land safely.” He had the ability to teleport now, swapping places with any flame he saw, and as he flung himself off of the mount, he fired off a Blackflame Meteor, focusing on having it hit the ground below.
That’ll give me something to teleport to once it hits, he thought.
He went plummeting through the icy chill and barely kept his eyes open. The second the drake was within five-hundred feet, Eric used Blacksteel Healing. The stream of black and white flames turned a shimmering silver as it shot down, impacted the drake , and the diseased flesh…stay put.
Oh, fuck me.
[It is too corrupted, fully consumed. Healing can’t do anything. Death is the only cure.] Indedroma sounded absolutely crushed and devastated.
Eric was still dropping rapidly, and as he went plummeting, the drake turned course to fall after him. Eric rolled over in midair, so that he was facing the encroaching threat. He saw the glittering, glimmering light of mana being pooled in the back of the throat for its breath weapon, and he replied with a full-reservoir empowered Blackmana Beam. The Skill shot out, widening, and consumed all of the drake ’s head and upper torso. But, it did not pierce through and kill the thing—it did leave Blackflame Blaze all along the body, and severely injured it.
The breath weapon fired off—a stream of raw mana mixed with air and heat, creating a high-energy thermal plasma bloom that boiled away the air, causing it to crackle and spark, and rushed down to Eric.
He used a Flashstep to avoid the blow—down to twenty-one-Sigils—and then spotted Felon coming in from the right for a saving catch. Pushing his hands and legs out, he managed to slow his ascent a bit, and the Alicorn got under him, matched his rate of descent minus a few feet-per-second, and let him land in the saddle. He immediately lashed himself back in, and the mount pulled up.
“What a crazy maneuver!” Percy shouted out.
Eric turned in his seat and saw the drake flapping up after them. It was in range, and he was able to keep firing off Blackflame Evocations at it, to keep stacking up his DOT.
Indedroma, he thought, uncap my stacks.
[Understood. Limits are removed. You can now get up to two-thousand percent outgoing damage, and should activate your other Rote.]
Eric toggled on his Cinderscale Shroud and kept up the assault until they pulled out of range and ascended faster than the dragon could climb. Then, he had to swap to timed Blackmana Beams to keep the DOT from fading.
Percy glanced back at him. “What’s the—what happened to you?”
“Defensive Rote,” Eric replied.
“Right. Plan?” His eyes were filled with fear, and that glimmer of exhilaration Eric knew so well.
“Try to stay within five-hundred feet,” Eric replied. “I can use a Rote at that range.” He had already burned another eight Sigils, and was down to thirteen.
Percy had the mount slow its flight, and the drake got into range of Eric’s Rote once more. He kept firing off rounds, and the apex mana beast was well into thirty stacks of the DOT by the time its breath recharged. The mouth opened again, and Eric shouted, “Dodge!”
Felon dove down, and then bolted to the right, avoiding the plume of plasma entirely. Percy had the mount wheel around, and they dashed toward it.
“Are you insane?” Eric asked, feeling bewildered. “Just keep at range and let me shoot!”
“Trust me, Eric!” Percy shouted.
Eric readied a Flashstep in case this asinine maneuver didn’t work, and kept firing off his Rote as they approached. The second they got into a fifty-foot range, he swapped to Blackflame Breath to apply more of the damage-over-time, faster.
The moment they got into reach, the drake ’s maw snapped out—but Felon darted under the strike, rolling to keep his rider’s safe, and came upright just in time for Percy to stab forward with his lance—right into the wing joint. It was a perfect strike, and he let the mana fade and the lance shaft vanish as to not be slammed backward from the momentum and impact.
The effect was immediate as the drake went careening to its injured wing-side, plummeting. Eric saw the flesh stitching together from the invader-deity’s healing power, but his Blackflame was holding it at bay enough that the thing wasn’t able to fully mend. The drake fell to the ground and with a tremendous thud, crunched into the snowy field. “We got it!” Percy shouted.
No, we didn’t, Eric thought.
He knew that his Blackflame would’ve turned the thing to Ashes if it had died. He manifested a Blackflame Meteor, and while it fell onto the recovering enemy, he fired off more Blackmana Beams at two-second intervals to keep all of his DOTs going.
“What are you doing?” Percy asked as they circled the fallen foe.
“Making sure,” Eric replied.
The meteor slammed down onto the body with an enormous kaboom that shook the air and caused Felon to shake his mane in protest.
“Take us down,” Eric said as he saw the dragon, still alive in the aftermath, burning and moving to face them.
“How is it alive?” Percy whispered.
Eric slapped him on the back. “Hey! Get me into range for my Rote!”
Percy was about to reply but then Eric felt a Sigil burned as he appeared in mid-air, the max distance away, and was plummeting. Eric didn’t see Percy or Felon anywhere, and was about to ask Indedroma what happened, but she said what occurred before he could say anything.
[They’re dead. Condensed breath beam.]
“Core-cracked,” Eric said as he plummeted to the ground below. At the last fifty feet, he used a Sigil—down to six—and activated Substitution Shield. He saw his ashen duplicate appear on the ground, and used the once-per-Skill-activation teleport to swap places.
He ended up standing where it once was, and watched as the ashen duplicate plummeted to the ground and slammed into the surface before getting up and theatrically brushing itself off. “Now for this,” Eric muttered as he looked at the drake .
It had mended a bit, and glared at Eric with a diseased eye. But, it was four-hundred feet away, and as it dragged its body forward, Eric unleashed his Blackflame Evocations on it. The diseased monstrosity was easily covered with well-over a hundred different Blackflame Blazes, and Eric used one of those seven remaining Sigils to activate Combustion Trigger.
Boom!
The entire world in front of Eric erupted with the explosion of monochromatic flames. He was well above two-thousand percent outgoing damage amplification with his buffs and various bonuses. That, and the Combustion Trigger Skill itself caused every Blackflame Blaze to explode for five-times that damage.
He blinked away the astonishment as he saw the drake had survived. He could see its skeleton in places, scales and meat were charred away, but the diseased center oozed out and kept it living.
How do I put it down? he thought.
[Overwhelming damage.]
And that isn’t? Eric thought back.
He began running to his right, and had his ash clone sprint toward the beast. Thanks to all of Eric’s stacked buffs, he was incredibly speedy, and he got to the drake’s right side before its head could pan and track him. All the while, he fired off more of his Blackflame Evocations. He circled the thing, and never let it get its mouth aimed at him.
Then, it spoke. Eric recognized the voice…it was the same which had broken into his mind in the Crimson Castle. But, it was lower, more guttural, and wheezing, as it came from the broken mana beast’s mouth. “You cannot stop my plans. I am everywhere, in everyone.”
Eric ignored its prattling and kept peppering it with more of his Rote, stacking up the DOTs once more. His best high-damage move was going to be to get the applications high up once more, and then use a Combustion Trigger.
It kept speaking as it turned to track him. “You fight the inevitable.” The mouth opened, and Eric was able to keep out of the path of the beam, keeping at maximum range from the broken body, and he just kept running in circles—sometimes doubling back so it couldn’t predict what he was doing.
Then, it roared, and the sound pierced the skies. An explosion of diseased goop erupted from its body like a tsunami: a wave of rolling, boiling pus and infected fluids that flashed forward. Eric used a Blackflame Breath to carve a gap so it could pass him—but that wave of heat-imbued vitriol was enough for the plague god’s vessel to get its mouth locked onto Eric, and let loose another beam.
But, Eric was at maximum stacks. He was processing everything two-thousand percent faster than he normally would be able to, and his movement speed was amplified just as much. That, coupled with his nervous system enabled him to not only see the breath weapon coming, but to run to the edge of the cone’s area and dodge it entirely. That brought him closer to the thing, and his clone was able to get up right next to it.
Now!
Eric used Blackmana Breath, having the Rote originate from the clone, who couldn't be injured or interacted with. The result was a DOT being applied every point oh-five seconds.
Only three seconds more of dodging saw the thing completely consumed by Blackflame Blazes, and Eric made sure to channel his Combustion Trigger through his grimoire.
Bang!
The explosion that shook the world around Eric was nothing short of spectacular, as all of the DOTs erupted and the vessel of the infection deity was completely incinerated, leaving behind nothing but a huge sphere of ashes.
Eric walked over and claimed them, then ignored the buzzing on his bracer as he looked up into the skies. “Sorry, Percy,” he said. He felt some amount of sorrow, or remorse, for the death—
His reflexes and nervous system kicked in, and Eric dodged a spherical projectile—condensed mana in a deep, ruby color—that then exploded next to him. He managed to outrun the shockwave, and scanned for targets with his enhanced vision.
Someone had just used a Fireball on him. He couldn’t see who did it, but did see another red sphere summoned right above him that then went slamming down. He managed to avoid it.
Well, he thought, I still have my shield active. Eric activated Mana Channel and stood still, fully filling up his reservoir, and then using Mana Conversion all five times he could. That took fifty seconds, and the whole time he was being impacted by dark crimson explosions.
At eleven Sigils, and with ten seconds left on his buffs unless he applied Blackflame Blaze to something, Eric sprinted forward. He was either going to move toward whoever was attacking him, or away and out of range. It had to have been the latter, as the explosions stopped, and his buffs all faded.
Indedroma, cap my stacks for incoming damage.
[Confirmed. Two-hundred percent outgoing, and incoming, unless your Cinderscale Shroud is active—then it’s one-hundred percent incoming.]
Good.
Eric scanned behind him as he kept sprinting across the snow. Well, sprinting as much as he could with ankle-deep powder laying across the landscape. He couldn’t see any pursuers, and turned to face the front as he kept moving. Unless he had an enemy he could see, he wasn’t going to waste Sigils or mana. He had been ambushed: and he had no clue who was doing it.
It could have been the two city-states who still held a grudge against him for destroying their income streams by killing off the former Admiral and Steward. It could have been the plague god, infecting someone to work on its behalf. It could even have just been friends of the diving organization that Eric’s group had slain after being ambushed.
In any case, it mattered little: Eric had no targets to fire at, and unless he got a terrain advantage, he wasn’t going to be able to find them. There was nothing nearby: just more plains and snow. Maybe a hill or two, or a tiny copse of trees—but what Eric really needed was a cave, or canyon, or something else which forced enemies to come in a single direction so he could try and detect them.
They can make their Fireballs appear from somewhere they aren’t, Eric thought. Or, they have some ability like Shannon, that makes them impossible to see.
He mentally chided himself. He had the perfect way to spot where they were. Stopping in place, he spun around, and activated Bristling Bastion—down to ten Sigils. The armor covered his whole body and he waited, anticipating the impact of some Skill. He intentionally kept his ash and cinder cloud from expanding, as he wanted to take a hit.
What hit him was a beam of blazing crimson, from his left and in front of him. It slammed into his armored carapace, broke through that layer and his Cinderscale Shroud beneath, and completely tore a hole through his left shoulder. It wasn’t a lethal blow—otherwise his Flashstep would’ve auto-activated—but it hurt like the depths.
The reactive bolt of Blackflame that shot out went to his right, slammed into something invisible, and coated it in a DOT as it sent them flying one-hundred feet. Eric was able to see them, now, and with a quick Flashstep he got next to them. Though they were invisible, he could see the flames outlining their body, and he let his cloud of ashes billow out, willing weapons into being: leather straps with metal beads sewn into the material. They were not weapons meant to kill, but to force foes to submit—he’d seen similar whips used in the Allied Cities of Chisholm in his prior timeline.
Not allowing the burning wrath to harm his foe, and dismissing the application currently afflicting them, Eric knelt, grabbed the invisible body that squirmed, and set his lashes to beat them. The form writhed in his grip, and he was able to discern where the neck was thanks to how the body moved beneath him, just like a patient who was rebelling against treatment. He wrapped both hands around their neck and willed the weapons to stop striking as he cut off blood flow to the brain and forced them unconscious.
Healer’s hands, he thought as the body became visible. Good thing I can just feel out arteries.