Luca DR
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The infinity dungeon 29
🕑 Added 2024-06-07 17:36:37 +0000 UTCChapter 29
Drullkrin’s plan was something that, had this been the real world, would have turned Michael’s stomach. Perhaps this was how wars were fought, but the disregard for life was almost frightening. Drullkrin was willing to send his soldiers to their deaths, almost as if his fellow forest folk, Fair folk all, according to his own words, were worth nothing in the face of victory.
The charge was called, the banner-leaders taking the lead and battle horns blowing. Michael stayed behind, overlooking the valley below hidden by the cover of the trees, along with the goblin general and a few of the elite orcs as a security detail. Below, a veritable tide of strange life was pouring out of the forest, charging for the swamp.
But it was not an unruly mob. Not after Drullkrin’s training. They were coordinated, moving in formation, making blocks and neat columns and walking with steps that fell almost in unison. All this in a few days… amazing.
The first row was spearmen and tower shields, followed by brawlers and swordsmen. Behind them, archers were already filling the skies with arrows, decimating their enemies before they could even engage. The battle, however, would not be so easy. Even though the swamp dwellers were not trained, charging haphazardly without a plan, they were strong.
For each of them that fell, five forest dwellers did. Barely a few minutes into the battle, the numbers of the attackers were dwindling, the tide turning.
“There!” Drullkrin called out, excited, seeing something that required Michael using his rifle’s telescopic sight to see.
Below, a mass of foul water was erupting into a bubbling mess of rotting plants and mud. From it, something was emerging slowly, like a scarecrow of straw and flowing mud. Michael studied its shape and magic through the scope of his sniper rifle, having already taken position. Through the magnification, he could see the swirling Fae magic of the glyph-bearer of the swamp, in plain sight without an aura to mask its presence. It was strong, but none of it seemed to be purely defensive, although it was hard to tell at a distance, judging only by its shape.
“It is time, my lord. The troops have done their job.”
Indeed, the swamp king had been lured out of his hiding spot. He was not intervening in the battle, seeing no need to dirty his hands… pun intended. He’s as dirty as they come. Instead, he was surveying the battlefield, his fifteen-feet bulk towering behind the back lines of his unruly army.
Michael took a deep breath. He had tested the weapon extensively, burning cash to buy more specialized bullets than he ever thought he needed. In his tests, they had reduced a rocky face to rubble, testing the power, accuracy and discovering the quirks of the Thunderstrike rifle. Michael thought he was a good enough shot by now, and his target was standing perfectly still.
It has no idea I am watching him.
Aiming for the swamp king’s straw head, which even now reminded him of a scarecrow dipped in mud, he squeezed the trigger. Right at that moment, though, he thought he saw the strange being flinch, its head turning.
The boom was deafening. The recoil momentarily moved the weapon enough that Michael lost sight of the king. He scrambled to regain sight of the monster again, sweeping the battlefield until he could see his target.
What he saw made him pause, adrenaline pumping. The swamp king was staring right at him.
The monster of straw and mud was staring at Michael, even though he was hiding in the trees more than two miles away. The king’s right arm was missing, the stump a shattered mess of flowing mud and muck from the swamp, but it was very much alive.
I must not panic. What did the whole Dune thing say? Panic is the mind-killer, something… I need to read up more sci-fi, it could be useful now that magic is real.
Pushing the panic down, Michael lined up another shot. Still, his body was aching, muscles ready to fire in a fight or flight response. His breathing was ragged, and his heart thumped in his chest.
I can’t line up the shot!
His hands were shaking too much. He tried to think of his skills, what he could use to make the shot, because while he was wasting his time the swamp king was striding towards him with great leaps, eating the distance between them. The monster had great disregard for the battle around him, his focus on Michael and Michael only. He was backhanding orcs and goblins almost as an afterthought, each hit of his one good arm decimating the attacking army.
Healing is no good, the shakes are just a body response. What other skills… he tried to use them all, but none of them were suited for the task. Using his body enhancement only intensified the shakes, the damage to his body making aiming even harder.
I can’t let the king reach me. Perhaps he could defeat him, but the risk was too great. I don’t want to die here, dammit. My life is only now starting to improve!
He grit his teeth so hard he felt something crack. Activating his healing as an afterthought, he sharpened his focus on the weapon he was holding. His mind became one with the weapon, feeling its every kink, its every quirk. He went over everything he had been taught about it by the weapons dealer. He thought back to his many tries, hundreds of shots in order to learn how to handle the complex weapon.
He didn’t even notice his aura expanding through unconscious mana manipulation, to the point the weapon was wholly enveloped in it. His mana began to suffuse the metal of the rifle, working in tandem with something coming from his healing skill, draining his mana pool. Then something clicked, aura and mana flowing liberally.
[
You have gained a Skill!
You are one with your weapon, a great marksman capable of integrating magic and the advances of military technology. You gain the uncommon skill [Marksman].
]
[
(Uncommon) Marksman 1
I see, through sights of iron, the fall of my enemies. May the bullet fly true, guided by my will.
· Channel mana to improve any ranged attack. Additional mana can be used to circumvent some limitations.
Low to Moderate mana cost.
]
Perfect. Just what I need.
Letting the new skill greedily drink from his mana pool, Michael suddenly found himself perfectly centered. His hands were steady, and the telescopic sight of the Thunderstrike was almost effortlessly tracking the lumbering monster heading his way.
He shot again, the recoil no longer affecting him like it did before. He saw the king swat the bullet out of the air with its remaining good arm, and for a moment Michael’s heart leaped in his chest. Then he saw that the king’s arm was now another stump, exploded by the might of the bullet.
He fired again, two shots in rapid fire, faster than the gun should have allowed. The mana drained out from him with each shot, magic making sure to keep the weapon working even when it should have not, the shots too quick, and the bullets flew true. The first pierced the king in its chest, blowing a hole through its straw body. It was smaller than the holes the rifle could carve into reinforced concrete, a testament to how strong the boss was, but the rifle was strong. Before the monster could even double over in pain, if it would ever do that, the second shot took its head.
It exploded in a fine mist of drying mud and yellowing plant fibers.
Then the body evaporated into motes of mana, while the cheers of Drullkrin and the rest of Michael’s security detail deafened his ears.
“Yes, it was harder than expected.” The goblin said as they strolled towards where the glyph was glowing, suspended in the air. Below them, the battle still raged on, but some of the swamp Fae were noticing that something was wrong, their strength diminished. “But things hardly go according to plan, do they?” he snickered, “I admit to having been foolish, not planning for failure. Next time, I shall have many contingencies ready to deploy should our main plan fail.”
“A good lesson for me as well,” Michael said, “a good king learns from their mistakes.”
“You are very wise, my lord.”
The glyph was hovering in the air, ready to be claimed. Michael touched it, and a familiar message appeared.
[
Challenge update!
You have acquired the glyph of Mind, and the Swamp King’s control of his troops falters. Without the other glyphs joined to form the Unity, this glyph has lost most of its power, but it retains some lingering magic. You may use it once to leave the dungeon, then once again to return to the second floor.
]
“It will take some time before the unsightly swamp dwellers lose all will to fight,” Drullkrin said, a touch of sadness in his voice, “I so loathe losing troops.”
“That’s where I come in, no?” Michael said as he scooped up the rewards to be sorted later, to which the goblin grinned.
“Surrender,” his voice boomed, powered by [Crude Body Enhancement], [Presence], and [Voice of Command].
The swamp dwellers stopped in their tracks, stunned, but some of them were already shaking off the chains of the command.
“Listen to me.” Michael ordered, “your King is dead. I bear this glyph as proof.”
That sent a wave through the battlefield. The forest folk were not attacking, as they had been instructed, and now the swamp dwellers were staring at Michael with disbelief in their eyes. Some of them bowed. Others snarled curses. Others took their own life.
“You have a choice,” he continued, borrowing the glyph’s authority rather than a skill to force them to listen to him, “surrender and join my army, or perish. Your king is dead, your resolve wavers. Your might is diminished, but if you join me, you can find new purpose and power!”
“He is no Fae, that is true.” The goblin commander shouted, words carrying easily thanks to his body strengthening ability, “he is a stranger from other lands. But his magic is strong, invisible and swift. He commands might beyond your wildest imagination. Two kings already fell, and more will fall until this whole valley is under his control. All hail king Michael!”
“King Michael!” some monsters shouted, soon followed by many others. “All hail King Michael!”
Most of them bowed, and those who didn’t were quickly slain. It was quite the sight too, as the most adamant in slaying the deserters were other swamp dwellers, allies up until moments ago.
“More troops,” the goblin commander muttered, sinister voice filled with sadistic glee. “Some training, and we will be able to move against the stone folk, my lord. They shall prove particularly vulnerable to your might, no?”
“Perhaps,” he replied, “but I think we are reaching the end of what mundane weapons I can bring to the dungeon can do. The third boss won’t be so easy.” Although, with my new skill…
“Of course, of course,” the goblin was not worried, “but as we grow, so do you. Soon your might will be more than a match for the stone folk.”
***
This time, the reward was smaller than when Michael had slain the forest king. As expected. As Old Dave said, I cheated a little, here.
Still, there was more than Michael had feared. Probably a reward for cunning, strategy and my ability to adapt when the first shot failed. I did develop a skill out of thin air, after all.
There were two silver coins, and a single glowing gem. With his mana sense now stronger than before, on the cusp of leveling up, Michael could almost see the tint to the mana of the stone. It looks uncommon-grade. Perhaps this was a better haul than expected. But wait, there’s more.
He tried to peer deeper into the nature of the mana making up the stone. He could see faint wisps of something emerge from it, not quite pure mana but not quite the colorful elemental mana he had begun to notice was almost everywhere.
His head throbbed, and he was forced to burn coins to keep himself topped up, body enhancement damaging his body but speeding up his brain, while his healing kept him from breaking apart. His brow was wet with a sheen of sweat, but his eyes bored holes into the stone, until he felt something give.
A message window appeared, but he waved it away, already knowing what it was. His sight was suddenly clearer, like an opaque glass wall had shattered. Now Michael could see the swirling mana of the skill stone, but also something else within it.
Immediately, he knew that he was looking at something more than a common skill stone, but less than a rare one. Uncommon, then, like I thought. Wow, it’s like I am learning an appraisal skill the hard way, using a common ability like [Mana Sense].
The description of his newly leveled [Mana Sense] skill shed some light on what that something else he was feeling inside the skill stone was.
[
(Common) Mana Sense 3
Like whispers on the breeze, mana sings its silent song; with attuned senses, I hear its melody, tracing the currents of magic that course through the world.
· Mana is now a part of your world, something you can perceive, if not see directly. You gain a new sense, able to pick up concentrations of mana around you.
· Increased range and precision. You can now see through thin obstacles and weak auras.
· You can see elements more clearly, and even faint hints of Qi.
]
Qi? Wasn’t Qi mentioned in the description of my healing skill? This gave him ideas. But more than anything, he now knew that skill stones, at least uncommon ones, were made of magic, elemental energies and faint traces of Qi. Hinting that perhaps Qi was a higher form of energy than mana, necessary if one wanted to go beyond the limits of common skills.
But when I made my [Marksman] skill, which is uncommon, I only used mana. Unless… oh, I see.
He was not using just mana, but [Healing Aura] as well. Which, apparently, also involved the manipulation of Qi. A quick round of healing confirmed his idea, that indeed the skill summoned faint wisps of Qi into existence, somehow transforming mana into Qi. The latter kind of energy was still almost impossible to see with his low-level [Mana Sight], but he could see it by looking for what wasn’t there, searching for the gaps in the mana. Where Qi was present, mana was not. By seeing the holes, he knew that there were wisps of Qi being drawn into him by the skill.
By the way, my mana pool is now 38 Copper, which is not bad. Not bad at all.
Finally, Michael turned to the skill stone that had been instrumental in breakthrough. Analyzing it with his newly enhanced sense, he thought he had an idea of what the skill contained within did. Nothing more than a faint feeling, but enough to make him want to absorb it right away. He didn’t, forcing himself to wait as he peered into it with his senses.
It’s training for my new proto-appraisal.
Let’s see. I sense the power of an element. Water, perhaps? It’s tainted, though, too dark to be pure like the creek I saw when I arrived here. Considering the theme of the boss, I’d argue it’s swamp related. Not just that. There’s an element of force, of distance, and precision. A long-range strike?
It was then that he finally absorbed it, eager to compare his crude analysis with the official description, provided to him by means he was still unable to understand or even see in action.
[
(Uncommon) Foul Water Bullet 1
A mutation, rendering the common uncommon, such is the power of the Swamp itself that is now mine. Like the bullets of my mundane weapons, let the elements become the vehicles of my will.
· Conjure a bullet of corrupted swamp water, capable of piercing light armour. The mutated water element will cause further damage to all kinds of matter, causing rot to spread. The bullet will travel in a straight line before vanishing.
Low mana cost.
]
Trying it out, he could feel that the skill took his mana and changed it into something else. Much like his healing skill conjured Qi out of mana at a tremendous cost, this skill generated elemental energy—the mutated water—at a very low efficiency.
Finally, a ranged option. Not the best, the sniper still has its use, but good enough to never make me feel powerless without my weapons again. Although, with [Marksman], he doubted his weapons would ever become useless. It had been a worry of his, that magic would take over, but no: it seemed that he could make it work together with technology and not in competition with it.
