Chapter 178: To the Victor Goes the Spoils
The goblin lay sprawled on the ground, its belly bloated and drooling in its sleep, blowing grotesque bubbles of saliva. I assumed it could finally die happy with a full belly. The goblin had tossed everything out of my pack, scattering it across the room. I thought briefly about killing the small, unsightly creature, but it had saved my life in its own way. It seemed too cruel to kill my benefactor in its sleep. I moved as quietly as possible to reclaim the spear and make sure it had no access to any weapons. I would let it fend for itself in the dungeon when it woke.
My veins and arteries still burned with every beat of my heart, warning me against using any more aether. On the other hand, I had three powerful potential essences in this room. I would not risk permanent damage by returning the goblin to my dimensional space, but I could at least claim the essences as that should just require a tiny amount of aether.
I felt a sense of urgency to catch up with the others, as Castile had the Kettle of Souls. I started by searching the mage, no longer squeamish about looting the dead. The robe I had used to drag him to the safe room seemed to resist staining—even the pools of blood from his neck had not soaked into the fabric. It was probably an artifact, so I snapped it in the air, rolled it up, and stuffed it into my conveniently emptied pack.
He wore a single shiny, untarnished gold ring on each finger. Both were definitely dungeon artifacts. His elaborate black belt had six small sewn-in pouches, three on each hip, each just big enough for a hand. I checked them, but they were all curiously empty. Maybe he had used everything. I coiled the appealing utility belt and added it to my pack as well.
A heavy gold and silver medallion rested around what remained of his neck—another artifact, and possibly similar to Castile’s aether shield amulet. I had depleted his aether shield during the fight. I put it in the pack for now. His boots were nice, but they were far too small for me. There was not much else of use here, so I assumed the summoner had left his pack elsewhere.
I strapped my black blade and the magebane blade to my pack, shouldered it, and carried the spear as I left the room. The walk to the owlbear room seemed to take forever, but I was rewarded with a room filled with tall grasses and dark berry bushes. I quickly located the untouched reward chest for defeating the owl bear. Without hesitation, I shattered it and was relieved to find the greater healing potion I was hoping for. I drank it immediately, the multitude of injuries fading like a bad dream.
I had not realized how injured I truly was until the warmth of the healing potion washed over me. I could have waited hours and healed myself with my spell form, but I needed to catch up with the others, so time was of the essence. I packed away the silver coins and a second potion. A quick glance at the runic script told me it enhanced one’s strength when consumed. I pulled the collector from my dimensional space, my aether channels flaring in protest at even this smallest of aether expenditures.
I considered my armor for a moment. It was in terrible condition, with multiple holes in the resin-infused hide from the powerful arcane missiles. I unbuckled it, discarding the pieces on the floor. Even my clothes underneath had numerous holes. Feeling much freer in my movements, I returned to the safe room. The goblin was still sleeping, with a larger puddle of drool beneath its chin. At least, it seemed to be having pleasant dreams.
I used the collector on the owlbear first, wincing at the effort of channeling even a wisp of aether into it. As the disc pulled the rich blue smoke, I worried it had been too long since the creature’s death to yield anything, but I was rewarded with a modest dark purple sphere—a major strength essence. The summoner was next. I placed the collector on his chest, anticipating something substantial.
I jumped when the goblin let out a loud flatulence. It was an attack, just not a physical one, as the foul cloud reached me. I covered my nose as I channeled my aether despite the persistent pain. I was rewarded with an apex essence, a luminescent pearl for increasing aether pool capacity. I thumbed the sphere in appreciation—this was much better than the magic affinity I had expected. I wanted to consume it immediately, but I was still recovering from my last earth essence, and my aether channels were still on fire. The burn was so bad I was sweating.The headless drake in the corridor was the last potential essence. I packed the apex pearl in my pack and moved to where the drake lay. It really was a beautiful creature when it was not trying to kill you. I ran my hand along the scales, which were silky smooth and cool to the touch. If Maveith were here, he’d probably be upset that I was not working hard to harvest the creature properly. I balanced the collector on its body and endured the increasing pain. The rich blue aetheric smoke formed quickly. A dark blue aquamarine sphere formed—an apex water affinity essence. I was slightly shocked but appreciative. I packed the essence with the collector in my bag.
With the black blade and the magebane blade strapped to my pack, I shouldered it. Once the aether burn lessened, I would store the entire pack, but for now, I needed to avoid further damage to my channels. I prepared to exit the dungeon, carrying only the spear. The goblin chose that moment to stir, panicking when it saw me. I held the spear in a non-threatening manner, resting the butt on the floor. The goblin scurried into the wall.
“I’m sorry, but I cannot take you with me. No more free rides. Best of luck, little guy.” I saluted the petrified creature and stepped into the oily portal, leaving behind the terrified but satiated goblin.
The bright snow momentarily blinded me as I exited the dungeon. It was midday, the brilliant sun reflecting off the snow. I swung the spear in a defensive arc as my eyes adjusted. Red splotches filled my blurry vision, and soon, I could see the legion armor and blood-stained snow. No specters in sight. Further away, near the collapsed tavern, lay a troll with a legionnaire’s body pinned beneath it.
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I inhaled deeply, savoring the crisp, cool air, finally free of the stale dungeon atmosphere. I sighed as I saw no sign of the company. It should not have been more than two hours since they had fled ahead of me. The hearth tree’s green canopy extended high above me. I took a quick glance at the branches, looking out for the giant eagles, but saw none. I assumed the wyverns had finished them off. Still, it would be a shame to fall prey to an attack now that freedom was so close.
I relaxed slightly, and I surveyed the area around me. No specters were in sight. On inspection, I recognized the body under the troll as Lucien, the horse master. I closed his wide, shocked eyes and whispered, “Thank you for sharing your wisdom about horses.” I sighed, recalling our time in Formica.
Another legionnaire lay within the tavern wreckage, a bow still clutched in his grasp. I assumed it was Pavel, but I did not venture into the debris to confirm. Beneath the tavern rubble were runic armor and a great sword. But this was not the time to retrieve them.
The courtyard where the dungeon entrance lay was packed with snow. The tracks showed the company scaling the wall to my right since the entrance had collapsed. I picked up a legion helm—red hair spilled out, and as I turned it over, Remus’s frozen head rolled out. His milky eyes stared up at me from the icy snow. My own indifference to his lifeless face surprised me. My helm was the only piece of my own armor left. I still had the full set of armor gifted to me by the duchess, but I would not be able to retrieve it for some time.
The torn bodies of three legionnaires lay scattered and pressed into the snow. This confirmed that the wyverns had killed the entire group: Soren, Cyrus, and Remus. I started piecing together a set of armor. Cyrus had been short but barrel-chested, and his upper body armor would fit me well enough. Soren had been taller, and his greaves should work for me. As I dug out Cyrus’s body when a familiar voice called out, “Eryk!”
I spun to see Maveith standing in front of the dungeon entrance. “Maveith, did you all go back into the dungeon?” I looked at the wall the company had climbed, then back at Maveith.
Maveith’s voice echoed too loudly, “No. I have been searching the dungeon for you! I have been going in and out, hoping to find you!”
My throat tightened at the loyalty and friendship he showed. “Thank you, Maveith. For having faith. What about the company?”
“They went over the wall. They planned to find a building to access the undercity,” Maveith replied, but his booming voice drew a specter through the wall. I grabbed my spear, and a single stab dispersed it. The spear must have been stronger than my black blade since it usually took more than one strike with the blade to finish a specter.
Maveith rushed to my side, ready to help. I whispered, “Keep your voice down, Maveith. Keep watch while I salvage some armor.”
“I am sorry. I was just so happy to see you alive. What happened to your armor? Is the summoner coming?” He asked much more quietly while standing over me as I worked.
I growled unhappily as I pulled the body from its icy grave. “The summoner destroyed my armor. I don’t think he’ll be joining us.” Maveith grunted but did not ask further questions.
Maveith exclaimed, as quietly as a goliath could, “I almost forgot. I have words from Castile. She asked me to tell you that you should stop playing the hero.”
I clenched my jaw as I heard Castile’s message, and my hands were soon numb from the cold as I claimed the armor from my fallen comrades. Legion armor was precisely fitted to each person. I knew I would get some chafing from wearing this armor, but it was better than nothing. “All right, Maveith, let us get out of here.”
The company had packed snow and debris to create a small ramp up to the wall. It was just over ten feet high, and I managed to pull myself up. Maveith handed me the spear as I surveyed the city from the top of the courtyard’s wall. He climbed up to join me. Half of the buildings had collapsed over the centuries, but some remained, some still reaching several stories high.
It seemed like the weeks we had spent in the dungeon had compacted the snow somewhat. The bluish heads of several specters were visible above the snow, indicating that the depth was around four or five feet. The company had broken a path through the snow to a building across the street.
“Wyvern, Eryk,” Maveith whispered, startling me, and drawing my attention behind us. In the distance, a wyvern circled far away from the city. It must have been released from the summoner’s control when he entered the dungeon and had yet to wander off.
“We need to reach the undercity and catch up with the others. I see dozens of specters down this street.” I dropped the spear and lowered myself onto the packed snow. Maveith landed with a thud beside me. I barely had time to grab the spear before the first specter emerged from the snow around us.
A quick upward slash dispatched the specter. “Move, Maveith!” I hissed as I followed the path the company had cleared. The narrow channel through the snow was dangerous, as specters could appear right next to us. The spear proved invaluable, easily dispersing specters with one strike. Reaching the building door, we found it had been smashed in.
I stepped over the threshold, looking around. “Maveith, do you have your glowstone?” He entered behind me, and I turned to defend the door while Maveith retrieved it. I avoided retrieving my own glowstone to spare my channels further strain. By the time Maveith retrieved the glowstone, I had already cut down two more specters.
The building appeared to be a shop, though its display cases were long destroyed, and its furniture had collapsed. Drifts of snow had gathered through broken windows, but I could see multiple footprints in the dust and snow. “Find where they went. I’ll hold the door.” As Maveith followed the company’s tracks, I cut down three specters. The commotion would definitely draw more.
“Over here, Eryk!” Maveith finally called. I retreated after dispatching another specter. The specters would reform in about half an hour, and I was eager to put some distance between us. At the back of the shop, Maveith found stairs leading down into the undercity. Clear footprints in the dust showed the company had gone that way. “Go!” I urged the goliath.
I followed Maveith down the stairs. Once we reached the landing, we saw tracks in the dust leading both right and left. “Which way?” Maveith asked, focusing on a specter approaching from the left.
I was puzzled by the tracks—it looked like the company had split, with half going left and the other half going right. No, this had to be Konstantin laying a false trail for the summoner. If I were Konstantin, which path would I choose?
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