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Mark of the Fool - Chapter 417

Published at 21st of November 2022 06:37:06 AM


Chapter 417: Theresa's Battle in the Dark

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The cave floor bucked and heaved beneath Theresa's feet like an angry stallion bent on throwing her to the ground. The sound of stone cracking through weakened walls groaned from every direction.

Earth mages scrambled and dwarves shouted warnings.

"These walls’ll fail!" An elder dwarf engineer climbed atop the closest cart, pointing his axe at the tunnel wall. "They'll bury us!"

"If we don’t push back that mana, we’re paste! And it's everywhere! C’mon, we’ve got to take control of the stone!" A senior earth mage thundered.

Prince Khalik and a stream of earth mages rushed to the walls, pressing their hands to the crumbling stone and bellowing incantations. For a terrible moment, the tunnel shook hard enough to upset oil lanterns sitting atop wooden work tables. Glass shattered into jagged shards, spreading pools of oil and flame along the tables and cracking floor. Fist sized stones rained from the ceiling and walls, dust spilled down in clouds.

A fissure suddenly gaped open in the tunnel floor right in front of Brutus, sending the cerberus yelping and scrambling backwards toward Theresa, his claws scrabbling against the stone. Panic hit the huntress full force; the tunnel was moving and buckling like a living, breathing thing, surging around her like the sea. The ceiling groaned, warping and threatening to drop tons of rock and earth on her and Brutus.

And she would be helpless to stop it.

Images of everyone she cared about flashed through her mind as she knelt and clung to Brutus offering up prayers to the Traveller for help with every fibre of her being. Every muscle tensed, waiting for the crushing press of stone to bury them, the throb of pain, and then nothing.

Perhaps she’d meet Uldar. She had some questions for their silent god. Heartbeats passed—earth-shakes calmed. Cracks began to close. Stone stopped falling, the terrible tremoring that threatened to topple everything around her began subsiding. Soon, the earth's roar calmed to low rumblings, then mild quakes.

Relief replaced panic.

"You did i—" she began.

"No!" Prince Khalik shouted. "The enemy’s breaking through our defences! Look ou—"

A tunnel wall exploded. Jagged boulders blasted through the air, crashing into walls and skidding along the passage floor. Stone-dust sprayed, sending the excavation team into fits of coughing.

The sound of flapping wings came next.

"Something's coming this way!" Theresa warned, jumping to her feet. "Something with wings!"

The team had mere moments to prepare before a stream of small bodies poured from the hole in the side of the tunnel. For a breath, Theresa glimpsed bat-like wings and long bodies soaring through the stone-dust.

"Spear-flies!" she cried. They looked exactly like illustrations in the Thameish bestiaries and she recalled the gruesome way they killed.

And as abruptly as they appeared, the monsters were on them.

Hundreds of wings thrummed through the air, foot-long bodies swarmed, shrouding the team as they disappeared in a haze of insectile bodies and floating stone-dust. With a growl, Theresa slashed all around with both swords, every strike connecting to a spear-fly’s body rippled through her arms as the Ravener-spawn dropped to the ground.

Her great-grandfather's blades split thin chitin, cleaving the monsters into twitching mounds; but for each dead one, ten more appeared. Beside her, Brutus sprang at them, mouths snarling, trying to snatch them from the air, but they flocked to him in swarms, barbed legs digging at his tough hide, proboscises thrusting, seeking any place where his skin was thin enough to pierce.

"Brutus!" Theresa screamed, calling upon that well of lifeforce deep within her. "Get off of him, you filth!"

Her senses sharpened.

Blades whirled, dealing death in a blur.

Steel streaked through the swarm, splitting three with every stroke, clearing them away from her cerberus. They fell in droves, and Brutus’ snapping jaws crushed more between them. In moments, the swarms were thinned though not gone, they persisted, pressing in on all sides. Theresa blurred as her swords shredded them to ribbons, her enhancedspeed kept them off of her and Brutus, yet, they seemed to multiply with each swing.

It felt like she was floundering against a tide of white water sweeping her down a river. And from what she could hear coming from her companions, it sounded like they were struggling too. Through the swarms and swirling dust, spells roared and loud blasts of power mixed with war cries and screams of pain. Theresa spotted Grimloch’s immense form bellowing and sweeping his weapon through the spear-flies. His great jaws filled with rows of jagged teeth opened, then snapped shut, grinding groups of Ravener-spawn into ground meat between them.

Yet, every inch of him was covered in spear-flies.

They crawled over his rough, grey skin stabbing at it again and again. In some places—beneath the armpits and backs of his knees—their proboscises pierced the flesh beneath. The Ravener-spawns' bodies swelled and turned red as they sucked the beast man's blood.

"Grimloch!" Theresa shouted, tapping Brutus' side. "We have to get to him, boy!"

Grimacing, she led her yelping cerberus toward their giant friend, cutting through the swarm. As they drew closer, Theresa caught sight of the others. The horned head of Thundar ducked and weaved around the swarm while he sprayed the parasites with cones of magical force. They ruptured under waves of power, splattering surrounding rock. The minotaur shouted a spell that made the air shimmer.

Three minotaurs appeared, the illusionary duplicates swinging their 'magical' maces through the cloud of Ravener-spawn, driving them into a frenzy. The filthy flying creatures swarmed, striking empty air as the real Thundar’s force spells tore them to pieces. Some still surged past their kindred and clung to his force armour, jabbing at it with barbed legs and sharp proboscises.

“Get off me, blood-suckers!” He stumbled back, tearing them away.

“Thundar! Hold on, I’ll—agh!” Svenia cried, waving a roaring torch through the mass of winged monsters.

Back to back, she and Hogarth fought the swarm, tossing flasks of lantern oil then setting it ablaze. Flame came to life, engulfing screeching spear-flies, driving them into each other in full panic. They dropped from the air in burning heaps.

But the two warriors had no time to celebrate; dozens more came at them, replacing each smouldering sibling.

“Agh! They’re on me!” Svenia cried, as several gripped her armour. She slapped them away with her torch, but one managed to jab its jagged legs into a section of links in her chainmail.

Then its proboscis sank into her back through a gap in the rings.

Its body swelled, soon washing red.

Svenia screamed and spun around, trying to tear it off, but more swarmed her, driven manic by the sight of flowing blood.

"Hogarth! Help! Get it off!" she shrieked.

“Keep still, I’ll burn it! Stop moving for—oh, shit!” He shoved his torch at the creature, but one landed on his helm, blinding him. The warrior stumbled away, struggling to get free. Svenia’s screams grew more frantic as the spear-fly grew fatter on her lifeblood.

And then…

A shadow fell over her.

One with a massive wingspan.

It swooped down, seizing the Ravener-spawn in its talons, piercing it, tearing it away. The deadly form of Najyah shrieked in rage, her body shimmering with Khalik’s power.

A wave of acid erupted, washing over the clot of Ravener-spawn, melting insectile bodies while some felt the bite of talons and a razor sharp beak.

“Thank…thank you!” Svenia gasped, fighting off the other spear-flies.

She was pale, but alive.

Not all were as lucky.

The swarm moved in perfect unison, like a giant’s mind in a thousand tiny bodies, hunting the weak. Two dwarven engineers screamed like pigs at the slaughter, their bodies buried in swelling, pulsating spear-flies; the Ravener’s spawn tripled in size, growing thick and red, while the dwarves’ flesh turned from mottled blue to stark white.

They collapsed to the ground, stilled, then withered like fall leaves.

"Ullvar! Bjorn!" The older dwarven engineer cried, his axe whirled around him as spear-flies now clung to him. “Somebody help them!”

“They’re gone!” a nearby bloodmage shouted. “Keep yourself safe!”

He turned back to the wizard he tended, channelling magic into her body while others defended him with acid, fire and lightning. Wizards conjured fresh winds, blowing Ravener-spawn back, and clearing out stale cavern air.

Spellcasters burnt through the purified air as quickly as it was replaced.

Tyris sprayed lava, coating scores of spear-flies in boiling rock, filling the ground before her with the burning monsters. A pair of Watchers leapt over the pile while strafing the swarms with whirlwinds of ice.

In between the two, a third Watcher thrust her staff toward the breach, speaking a word of power. A shimmering wall of force magic sprang up, cutting off the spear-flies.

"Finish these off! I'll keep the rest of them out!" The Watcher shouted, conjuring a whip of flame from her staff and raking the cloud of flying bodies.

Cheers went through the excavation team, and Theresa felt hope for the first time since the spawn had attacked.

Her blades flashed as she fought toward Grimloch, leaping beside the sharkman and cutting down spear-flies.

The swarm thinned, letting the sharkman throw himself against the wall, crushing dozens clinging to him.

"Thanks!" Grimloch snarled.

"No problem!" Theresa said, chopping at the spawn around him and Brutus. "Now we can—Wait, what's that?”

A deep rumbling noise began.

“Look out!” Svenia pointed to the wall across the passage.

It was swelling.

Swelling and straining.

Before anyone could react, it burst like overripe fruit. Rock shot through the tunnel. A single boulder swept the old dwarf engineer off the cart, mashing him to pulp against the wall.

Shocked cries erupted.

Bodies fell as stones launched into ducking forms.

A clang and a muted cry escaped as a rock struck Hogarth’s helm with such force, it put him down like a stricken ox.

“Hogarth!” Svenia cried, grabbing his limp body to drag him toward the blood mages.

She glanced at the new breach and all colour drained from her face.

Dozens of glowing eyes burned deep within the dark hole, each pair framed by looming silhouettes. Alight with wild abandon, a frenzied wave of bone-charges barrelled into the tunnel.

"Our forces are striking the enemy in their tunnels," one of the Hunters growled. "They have engaged all the mortals who could reach the usurpers’ base to offer reinforcement.”

"This pleases me," the petrifier growled, its eye-stalks turned in several directions; two watched the shafts in the caverns' walls and the swarms of Ravener-spawn pouring through them. Three eyed the dungeon cores, noting the cracks forming in their dead, black surfaces.

They would not take the strain forever.

Hopefully, they would last long enough for the work to be finished.

"Have the tunnels been collapsed?" The leader asked the Hunter.

The smaller Ravener-spawn hesitated. "...no, leader. The enemy held back the dungeon cores' power with magic.”

"Unfortunate," the petrifier growled. "The more help we can deny the usurpers, the better. Go, take some of your siblings and clear those tunnels out. Then come to the usurpers' base above."

"Yes, leader," the Hunter growled, bounding back into the passage.

The petrifier's eyes returned to inspecting the dungeon cores, watching the walls around the pair of dark orbs shimmer and buck. Stone swelled, transforming into four egg sacks—two titanic and two human-sized—that split, releasing four monstrous creatures. Two were made of swarms of spear-flies clinging together to form humanoid shapes. The wings of the collection of Ravener-spawn rubbed together as they bowed to the petrifier.

The other pair of monstrous leaders bowed low, their great bulks constrained by the cavern walls. Towering more than twice ten feet with shoulders nearly as broad, a thick coat of bone-plates sheathed them, and each left arm ended in a club-like protrusion covered in spikes. Their glowing red eyes flashed with a dull, but vicious intellect.

“Welcome to the world, behemoths and hives-as-one. Welcome to the good work,” the petrifier said.

At its words, the dungeon cores screamed, cracking as more behemoths and hives-as-one emerged from the walls. The petrifier’s force grew in strength and number; had the multi-eyed beast been capable of smiling, it would have grinned from ear to ear.

"Leader!" another Hunter called from the passages before emerging into the cavern, its eyes looking afraid.

One of the petrifier’s eyes turned to its hound. “Speak.”

"We have pinpointed the usurpers’ position, but there's a problem!"

"What is it?" Now all eyes turned.

"We've been detected." the Hunter growled. "Mana surges on the surface and an alarm has been sounded. We can hear it through the rock!"

The petrifier stiffened with displeasure. "What of the usurpers? Are they trying to escape?"

"One remains where they were before." The Hunter pointed to the ceiling. "But the other is moving toward a large pool of mana within their lair. We cannot say what it is, or why."

The petrifier's teeth ground together; a usurper had disappeared into thin air earlier, and now another was moving toward a great source of mana. Would they also disappear?

This could not be allowed.

There was another crack from the dungeon cores: more lines were spreading across their surfaces and their mana was sputtering. They were failing. Time was short.

"Open the shafts above us. Force them if you have to," the petrifier ordered the cores. "Behemoths, hives-as-one. Some of you will enter the tunnels and kill all who resist. As for the rest of you…" it looked to the Hunter. "Give me the locations of the usurpers and this source of mana that one of them flees to. We'll open up the earth, then we attack from beneath their feet."




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