Chapter 54 - When Dreams Become Nightmares

Eric flashed a hard smile, sensing that had finally defeated the last of the shamblers. He closed his eyes and placed his hands upon his spike-laden funnel corridor, returning it to his ES Space only once he felt so attuned to the construction that he could reconfigure it in a heartbeat.

Morlekai glared down at the corpses at their feat. "I regret that I was unable to provide further assistance than as your backup with our death funnel, and harrying them as a murder of crows while we took out that gate." The man sighed and shook his head. “These creatures play to all of my weaknesses, and none of my strengths. I assure you, in other circumstances...”

Eric nodded. “I know. I’ve seen just how well you feast upon lizards and orcs. Draining them dry and getting stronger with each kill.” He flashed a bemused smile. “I know you always held back during our run together, because you were more interested in Drake and Louie leveling and me showing what I was capable of. That, and us working as a team. Even then, I could sense that that was far more important to you than showing off and grabbing an extra level for yourself."

Eric dipped his head. "And you even let me claim the vast majority of kills through our funnel trap. Thank you, Morlekai. If it's worth anything, it did let me consolidate my bardiche techniques into one unified skill. You clearly care about the people fighting by your side. That shows a good leader like nothing else, in my mind.”

Morlekai smirked at that. "One of us had to play wingman, and I have neither saber imbued with the essence of flame nor war blade. What I could dowas guard your back and force the walkers off-balance when you got too cocky and suffered for it, and that I did well enough, as we are both embracing the here-and-now, and our foes are all past tense." He sighed and shook his head. "My only regret with the orcs was that I didn't do more. I put you in the position of having to take out the vast majority with far too little help from my end. I should have done more."

Eric shook his head. “When that Shaman nearly killed you with an explosive deathward, somehow channeling the power of their black gunpowder into one fatal concussive blast, that played to your weaknesses like nothing else that went down before or since. Because a shockwave will tear through a flock of birds far harder than a single sturdy man. Though it’s not so great for us either. Regardless, you got hit where it hurt, and had no time to regain your confidence or bearings before we had to take down a band of twenty. Worse, their leader also had a fetish that would have exploded, had I not cleaved the connection between a dying brain's final command, and the dark prize hidden amongst its clothing."

Eric closed his eyes, allowing himself a single second’s concentration, rearranging the strangely malleable animal parts in his inventory like they were infinitely rearrangeable Blockcraft items on his computer screen, before placing a bridge of weight-bearing bone with a cover of lizard hide over the massive pile of still twitching revenant body parts. Because even if he had inadvertently used all his fresh meat in his town barricade, his former necromantic constructions were still remarkably intact. Only then did he bother crossing over the remains before waving Morlekai over with a nod.

The vampire flashed an approving smile, not hesitating to cross Eric’s bridge of flesh and bone. “To so intuitively manipulate the corpses of those who fall to your blows, without an ounce of training. Extra-dimensional Storage Spaces aside, the blood of Necromancers clearly flows through your veins, Eric Silver. There can be no doubt.”

Eric couldn’t help laughing at that before reclaiming his undeniably undead bridge. “Only if they liked my mother’s movies, Morlekai. Because sure as shit, she wouldn’t bother with anyone else.”

Then, with a nod to his friend who instinctively knew to step back, he drew his bow, nocked a single superheated arrow, and gave the pile of writhing dead remains the grace of oblivion, in the form of a 4000-degree funeral pyre, then turned back at his friend.

“So, let’s focus on what we know. No Necromancers in my family tree, at least none that my mother told me of, which is clearly a good thing, since the actual undead are clearly not your scene. Save for the corpses you yourself raise with your blood crows. So are they living crows or undead revenants?" Eric shrugged. "I think your crimson arts are skirting the line between life and death as a necromancer. Which might make it tougher for you than other necromancers to take out other undead. But any other living thing? You’ll drain them of blood and life so fast that they’re a pile of skin and bones, before your lead crow even stops laughing. So long as they aren't warded with explosive fetishes, which I'm guessing almost no one, save the occasional orc shamans and chieftain, would be. That about right?”

Morlekai flashed an oddly rueful smile. “To hear the summation of my abilities, both my virtues and my flaws, painted so succinctly. It’s almost… humbling.”

Eric furrowed his brow at his friend’s odd expression, having genuinely meant to pep him up.

“But you’re right, Eric. No more excuses. No more… false pride.” The impeccably attired Morlekai, looking flawless even in his oddly pristine scale mail, with his silky dark hair of course free of any trace of dirt or gore, sighed and shook his head. “Whatever my strengths, this day has shown us all the glaring flaws of my techniques like nothing else ever could. I should be striving to master every tool at my disposal. Every weapon and skill that I can. Not simply rely on a few specialized tricks that I used to think made me exceptional. Arrogant enough to assume a handful of flawed talents gave me the freedom to over-indulge, or to think that my victory is assured. Because in this world, it most certainly is not.”

Eric flashed a mirthless smile. “Flawed or not, I get the feeling we’re a certain town’s only hope.”

Morlekai nodded with an equally bleak grin as they jogged back down the main corridor, their footsteps echoing oddly against the grey stone of the corridor, footsteps splashing in the puddles of condensate they passed, most filled with moss or phosphorescent mushrooms, the base of a remarkable ecosystem. And man, unfortunately, was not the top predator down here, as evidenced by the distant roars and the sledgehammer-like pounding that Eric understood could only mean one thing.

Morlekai flashed a fearsome grin. “You know we’re probably not going to survive this, right?”

Eric laughed. “Possibly. The key word is possibly. And how boring would it be if the odds were stacked in our favor all the time?”

Morlekai’s gaze grew solemn. “Eric… I think you already know what we have to do.”

Eric gave a curt nod. “Taunt that motherfucker back down the hallway that sure as shit didn’t soar fifty feet over our heads last week, Morlekai! But never mind that. Point is, we lead him back to orc territory, where maybe he can make all sorts of new friends. And with the portal to lichlandia busted, and how the hell did he fit through that thing anyway? He’s far too big… anyway, with the gate broken and all sorts of black-powder using orcs to keep him company, maybe they’ll entertain each other for ages, and leave us completely alone.”

Morlekai laughed at that. “It sounds even more absurd when you say it. There’s no way we’ll keep ahead of it for eight minutes, let alone eight hours.”

Eric snorted. “Speak for yourself. 22 Vitality here! And 20 Strength means I got massive power to my stride, and my armor doesn’t weigh me down at all. Topped with 17 Quickness and the grace of a Shadow Puma… is there such a thing? I think we'll be able to kite that bastard for ages.

“Besides,” Eric added with an arch look at his smiling friend. “You can turn into blood crows whenever you like.”

His friend laughed at that. "I like your spirit, boy scout. Very well, let's be heroes." With those words, he turned into a whirlwind of crows as Eric turned the corridor to the main tunnel and beheld a sight that made his blood run cold.

Then hot, with killing fury.

Glaring at the massive behemoth finally wrenching free the plug of bone and hide, sinew and muscle, that Eric had so carefully sealed against the rough granite all around, hoping the monster would waste his energy pounding on the flesh. And perhaps it had. But it had been at grave cost, for most of the constricted tunnel entrance had been pounded into rubble and sand, the giant’s massive blue hands showing abrasions from the impacts.

Abrasions, and the smeared remains of the defenders who had failed to get back in time, when the titan finally breached their defenses, and the dozens of undead awaiting their orders began their inexorable march within.

Eric’s heart lurched with panicked dread as the titan chose that moment to bend down and try to force himself through the opening.

For a heartbeat, all Eric saw was red.

Till it turned to the blinding light of a killing fury, unleashing a fire arrow with all the potency he could pour into a bow on the brink of collapse.

Eric’s arms trembled with the inconceivable strain of drawing a bow infused with such potency. Such fury. Not until Burst of Strength saturated both his limbs and his bow, did he finally fire his shot. And the air cracked with the sound of an arrow going faster than any crossbow bolt ever had.

Because even if that much pent-up fury had skewed the shot, a multi-ton titan was a hard target to miss.

You have successfully channeled Burst of Strength!

You have successfully stabilized Soul-Bound Lich-Bow!

Tension and force multipliers in effect.

Your arrow has broken the sound barrier!

Your arrow has broken mid-flight.

Broken wood fragments strike Undead Titan for minimal damage! (Impervious flesh perk in effect.)

4000 degree steel arrowhead strikes Undead Titan for 3% of total health!

Defenses pierced!

Norvolth has been distracted by pain!

Norvolth has been successfully taunted!

Even as the messages flashed across his mind’s eye, Eric was gazing with awe at the sight of the giant monstrosity of flesh, leathery blue skin, and bone twisting around after being shot directly in the ass. Morlekai was giving him an odd look and his ‘this isn’t a game, Eric!’ expression, but he had, in fact, been aiming for the back the monster’s left knee.

The fact that the arrow, which had exploded midflight upon breaking the sound barrier, had hit at all was a miracle.

And the fact that the massive undead Frankensteinien horror was forced to waddle forward as its nether regions blazed away was pretty damn funny, Eric thought in the tiny corner of his mind not filled with gut-wrenching

fear.

“Eric! We have to move! Now!”

When the monster's furious simian eyes glared into his own from less than a quarter-mile away, Eric already knew he was going to die by that nightmare's massive hands, even without a lich goading it on.

Because, much to his horror, Eric and his nemesis were connected in ways he would never have imagined, moments ago.

He could sense how the horror before him had once been just like him. A young adventurer little older than he was, eager to embrace this new world and dare to take on foes against all odds, if it would help him grow. If it would help him ascend past all others, to become a titan in his own right, perhaps even a hero.

And he had done remarkably well, at first.

Until the day he dared listen to a goblin merchant’s enticements of a rich prize to be found, buried in an ancient necropolis recently emerged in this realm.

The day he and a dozen of his closest friends, his entire former raid league, had all dared the pods in Sylvan territory, because none of them wanted to live powerless in the grand new world of their greatest dreams. The fact that so many of their original number had been geographically located so close together, the fact that over a third of them had survived instead of 1 in 10, had seemed almost like divine providence.

Then, working together as an alliance of like-minded friends, they had made strides in those first few months that had been the envy of half the state, their exploits even reported over static-filled airwaves by countless AM jockies that had gotten the news. And together, as a team of loyal battle-brothers and sisters, they had dared the last delve they ever would.

Before dying in agony every bit as great as the dreams of hope and glory that had spurred them on to dare such madness in the first place, and not a single one of them having graduated college, or possessed level above 15.

Alex blinked through his own hot, bitter tears. "I'm sorry," he whispered, even as he drew his bow once more. "Sorry you fell to that monster. Sorry your glorious destiny was just luck and delusion in a world that doesn't give a shit about any of us."

Eric took a shuddering breath as the roaring titan approached, the former youth’s eyes filled with awful pain that transcended the white-hot fire at its rear, a pain it could never articulate with a mind warped by death, unthinkable torment, and a lich’s malice.

Eric locked gazes with the tragedy lumbering toward him, spending painfully long moments holding his ground as death rapidly approached, a monster that could smash him to past with a single unavoidable swipe of his massive fist, but a terrified Eric refused to flee. Not until he had finally sensed the weakest point to the ward still surrounding his foe, the barest echo of what it once had been

before Eric had ruptured the gate.

It was a ward that would warp all kinetic and electromagnetic energy just enough to skew any attack sent its way, assuring vital organs were never hit, and only the most focused and fastest shots would hit at all.

It was a ward with a singular flaw Eric only sensed after gazing at the horrific tragedy before him for far too long, for eyes truly were windows to the soul.

Only then did he summon forth a shaft of white-hot oblivion, and release death at the one weak point in the entire diminished ward.

Norvolth's furious, pain-filled gaze.

“Eric! You have to move!” A panicked Morlekai roared, physically grabbing Eric and yanking him back.

Before both were knocked off their feet as the ground shook with the crash of the massive titan falling to its knees, a look of surprised confusion in its remaining eye as it began to bulge and bubble just before the entire skull burst like a mortar round, brain and bone shrapnel tearing through the air as the shockwave sent Eric and a fleeing Morlekai both crashing back to the ground.

You have critically struck Norvolth the Consumer!

Norvolth the Consumer’s Greater Impenetrable Ward is no longer in effect! (Gate to Necropolis of Lich King Olzgoth has been destroyed!)

Norvolth the Consumer's Lesser Ward has been successfully Pierced.

Norvolth the Consumer’s brain has failed to save against 4000 degree heat!

Norvolth the Consumer’s brain has exploded!

Norvolth is no more.

Congratulations! You have completed Objective 3 of your active quest: Stop Enemy Boss: Norvolth the Consumer.

You have completed all elements of Active Quest: A Town in Dire Peril.

Experience earned!

You have achieved 40% Core Infusion!

Bow is now at Rank 13!

Find Weakness is now Rank 7!

Burst of Strength is now Rank 8!

Flesh Sculptor is now Rank 12! (Just look at how merrily your opponent’s undead vessels burn before your wrath!)

You have earned the title: HERO.

You are now officially a HERO of the human faction!

You now enjoy +4 reaction rolls among humans who know of your new title! This can be revealed by you, or by others who know of your just and noble deeds.

Reputation among the citizens of Junk Town is now: Idolized.

For long moments a stunned Eric just gazed at the now furiously burning corpse, filled with a curious mixture of triumph and pity, knowing that, but for a lucky roll of the dice, that boy’s fate could have been his own.

Been the fate of anyone who dared anything but the safest of delves and encounters.

But the price of constantly holding back… the cost of not pushing oneself to the limit?

Eric sighed and shook his head.

They were dead either way.

He flinched for only a heartbeat when Morlekai clapped his shoulder. And the look in his eyes… so like the approval of a father he had never known.

Eric swallowed, refusing to be choked up by his friend's gaze.

“It’s good to have you on our team… hero.”

Eric burst out laughing. “I’m just a lucky bastard who made the shot. And that titan? Six months ago, he was just like you and me.”

Morlekai's demeanor instantly becoming hawklike in its intensity. "Explain. Now."

Eric dipped his head, quickly summarizing the jist of what he had felt and sensed in those endless moments they had somehow communed. “So he was just another kid surviving this world by treating the transformation like the game it almost was… but he and his friends made the mistake of thinking they were actually destined to be champions.” His lips twisted in a bitter grimace. “To be the favored heroes of what they so wanted to believe was a fatherly System. Like the DM of one of their favorite RPGs we all used to love playing, not that long ago. Not the soulless Interface that we both know it really is. An Interface that doesn't personally give a shit about any of us, one way or another. It's a System-implanted voice in our heads that only really gets excited when we're about to kill, level up, or perish. And when a certain goblin merchant enticed those poor foolish kids with the location of a prize beyond any other...”

Morlekai’s eyes flashed. “Did you catch the name of the merchant?”

Eric sighed and shook his head. “No. Not even of the boy. Or what the hell the prize was. I only gleaned enough to know that we were doing him a mercy, setting him free as much as killing him when I released my arrow, taking advantage of his own roiling thoughts to make sure that he never thought again.”

Eric swallowed. “I think, well, I think he was almost having an epiphany during those terrible endless moments we were connected. So of course, being the ruthless bastard that I am...”

Intent red eyes gazed into his own. “You put down a homicidal monster and saved the town. That is all, Eric. Do you understand?”

Eric flashed a sad smile. “Sure, Morlekai. We’ll play it that way. Now let’s go home.”