he stripped to his waist and paraded around pointing out his battle scars, he would be laughed at. Or slapped. Slapped was a real possibility.
Maybe it was the Leadership Skill. There was something that leant weight to Trent's words, and Kerry did not think it was the faded white lines left by teeth, claws, and blades. Although Felicia was welcome with any party formed in the Academy based on the strength of her boosting Spells, that hadn't prevented her classmates from encouraging her to learn more traditional spell-slinging.
None of it had worked. Not the orders of respected instructors or the pleas of well-meaning friends. Felicia had always stubbornly resisted learning magic that burned, froze, or sliced. She had flared up with white-hot anger whenever it was suggested.
So what made her sit in the corner with a blank parchment on one knee and a tattered Spell book on the other, trying to decipher the missing pieces of the arcane text? It wasn't Trent's reasoned arguments and irrefutable logic. Kerry might not know women, but he did know that Trent was insane.
"What's your favorite color, Trent?" Kerry said over his shoulder, planting his feet and refusing to move.
Behind him, Trent stopped in place a moment before his hand shoved against Kerry's back. Kerry pressed down on the chuckle that attempted to boil out of him. It had worked. The simple question had been a stall tactic, and it had worked!
It had to be a simple question, one a normal, sane person knew without thinking. With topics like the Dungeons or combat, Trent's opinions came quick, rattling off his tongue like he expected to be quizzed on them. However, ask about his favorite food or season, and Trent would lapse into deep thought, giving Kerry precious minutes to rest and catch his breath.
"I don't have a favorite color." Trent's reply was quicker than usual, his hand pushing Kerry forward. "What are you hesitating for? Didn't you say the Guardian was just a bigger Swift Beetle?"
That sentence could only come from Trent. The Academy recommended students work in teams of six to fight a floor boss. Trent was proposing that he and Kerry do it alone. He wouldn't even allow Felicia to cast Grace or another boosting Spell on them, claiming Kerry needed to learn to fight without them.
"Level 8 Swift Beetle." Kerry tried to dig in his heels, but Trent's arm irresistibly pushed him forward into a large open cavern. "And bosses have more Skills! It's not as simple as twice the Level!"
Dreq was sniffing at the entrance to the cavern, and as Kerry stumbled by him, the Dog sneezed. The sharp exhalation came out sounding like the word, scared, and the wheezing that followed it was suspiciously like laughter. Kerry put the oddity of the noises down to his own sensitivity, though there were times he would have sworn he heard the mutt speak.
"You can go back anytime you like," Trent stopped shoving and stepped around Kerry, "or you can wait with Felicia. It's up to you."
Felicia had anchored her Light Spell to Kerry's gauntlet. Trent was beyond the Spell's illumination after a few steps. Kerry watched him draw his knives and twirl them once, before Trent was lost in the darkness.
Dreq stayed behind, sitting at Kerry's feet, his tail swishing. Kerry's shoulders slumped as he looked down at the Dog. "Do you know how he changes his hatchets into knives?"
Dreq looked up and barked in reply before leaning forward to peer after Trent.
"Of course, you don't, stupid of me to ask," Kerry sighed. He lifted his hand and shook it, sending the luminous orb that was attached to it floating towards the ceiling. The circle of pale light expanded as the orb ascended. Kerry cursed when it reached the high ceiling.
He couldn't control the Spell, only direct it, and he hadn't managed to do that very well. Less than half of the cavern was lit up, leaving plenty of shadows for a Beetle to hide in. Unable to call the orb back and try again,
Kerry steeled himself to dying from an unseen terror and summoned his borrowed shield.
Hefting shield and club, Kerry moved to stand behind Trent and asked nervously, "Do you see it?"
"Yes." Trent's knives spun in his hands. "It's bigger than you said it would be. And it's not a Swift Beetle, it's a striped one."
"A Striped Beetle!" Kerry's demeanor brightened at the unexpected good news. "That's great! They're harmless! Big and ugly, but calm. Friendly even."
Kerry, having spent unknowable hours standing behind a Stripped Beetle holding a shovel, was very familiar with this bug. He was fond of them in a way. Fonder of the domesticated farm animal than the Herbalist who owned them, at least. These manure producers, with their bulging black eyes, purred and offered Kerry sympathetic looks while he cleaned up after them, something the Herbalist had never done.
"This one doesn't look friendly." Trent tapped his blades together. "Try to draw it into the light. Don't let it hit you when it charges."
Kerry scoffed as Trent slipped back into the concealing blackness. Stripped Beetles didn't charge. Their short legs and bulbous bodies made Kerry look graceful. The most impressive thing about the Beasts, besides their size, was the way they could roll back to their feet after tumbling onto their sides.
Kerry began to feel sorry for the insect Guardian as he stepped back to the center of the lit area. Although he was sorry for the Beetle that was about to meet an unjust end, Kerry felt his survival prospects had increased dramatically. His voice was chipper as he smashed his club against his shield and called out, "Over here! Come and get it!"
The sound of Kerry's cheerful boom echoed through the chamber as he employed his Taunt Skill to lure the Beast in. His arm was steady as a rock as he lifted his shield and prepared himself to greet the roly-poly opponent that
he could hear clicking its way towards him.
His confidence took a hit as a Stripped Beetle taller than he was entered the light. Its black shell glistened, and the white marking that decorated it had a polished look. The bug's three sets of mandibles were spread wide as it rushed at the shocked Warrior with more speed than it had any right possessing.
The Stripped Beetles that Kerry was familiar with were docile. Cared for by human hands from the time they were hatched, the domestic version of the insect was genuinely affectionate and playful. They adored the two-legged handlers that brought them food and kept them safe.
In the wild, the Stripped Beetle had few predators in their own Level range. Their thick chitin armor made them tough, and their sharp mandibles tore flesh as handily as teeth. Adding in the magic resistance that made their dung desirable, Stripped Beetles were not an opponent to be underestimated.
The Beetle Kerry faced was neither domesticated nor wild. It was a Trial Beast, a Floor Guardian, endowed with rage and a ferocity its natural cousins could never match. The fact that it chattered exactly like the Beetles Kerry knew was disturbing, and if he lived through the next few minutes, he would never be able to face the animals on the Herbalist's farm again.
Shrilly screaming a war cry, Kerry threw himself to the side and lashed out with his club. He avoided the Beetles rush by a hair, the spike of his weapon striking against the creature's leg bouncing off without leaving a scratch. The Guardian came to an instant halt and reared on its back legs. It pivoted in Kerry's direction, and its tremendous bulk began to fall.
The Beetle slammed against the stone floor, its face inches away from Kerry. Its mandibles rolled like fingers, beckoning Kerry into its maw. Kerry was barely able to get his shield between himself and the enticing mouth of the monster as it skittered forward. He braced his feet and leaned forward in a futile attempt to hold the Beast back.
For a moment he thought he had succeeded. The Beast halted before it could flip him on his back and crush him. Then Kerry caught sight of Dreq
latching on to a leg with tiny teeth and realized the Beetle's delay was likely caused by the Dog's Paralyzing Howl, a sound Kerry couldn't hear, not with the way his blood was pounding in his ears.
Unwilling to be outdone by Dreq, Kerry began pushing back against the Beast with his shield. His club hammered away at its bulging eyes. He had to hold on until Trent arrived! He alternated bashing with his shield and striking with his club. The Guardian sank beneath his blows, its legs thrashing wildly, dislodging Dreq and tossing the Dog aside.
Kerry didn't spare a thought for the pup beyond hoping Dreq was alright. Dreq had bought Kerry precious seconds with his howl, and Kerry intended to use them. He struck out repeatedly, until his club was plucked from his hand, and then beat at the creature with a metal-covered fist until a voice reached him.
"It's dead, Kerry. You can stop now. You don't have Enraging Aura, do you?"
Kerry froze, his arm cocked to deliver another unneeded punch. His head swiveled to see Trent holding Dreq in the crook of one arm and a wooden sword dripping blood in his right hand.
"It can't be dead." Kerry was matter of fact, and he explained to Trent exactly why he was wrong, "It's only been a few seconds. This is a Floor Guardian; you need to take it seriously."
Trent flicked his wrist, sending blood splattering to the floor. He passed Dreq to Kerry, who took the pup with numb hands, and pulled out a cloth from the pouch in his belt.
"Sorry." Trent wiped his blade clean, examining it with a critical eye. "I wanted to let you kill it, but it was too big. I had to switch weapons to get to its heart. You can have the next one."
"Next one. Right." Kerry's voice was as numb as his hands. "As long as I get my fair share."
Trent took Dreq back after he stored his blade. He ran his hands over the Dog, checking for injuries and, finding none, set Dreq down. Dreq promptly let out a whine and held out a paw, wordlessly complaining about being forced to walk on his own. Trent just as promptly ignored the Dog.
"Any idea where to start Harvesting this one?" Trent gestured toward the downed Beetle. The size of the Guardian made his mithril knife seem puny.
"No." Kerry sank down beside Dreq. "It shouldn't be here. There are no Striped Beetles in the Dungeon."
"Not much value on one of those except the legs and mandibles," Felicia said as she joined them. "Not on a dead one anyway." She frowned up at the Orb she had given Kerry, and with a gesture, caused it to glow brighter.
"Thanks." Trent nodded appreciatively. "Any luck with the Spell book?"
A flash of light and heat shot from Felicia's fingers, splashing against the Beetle's shell. "Some, with the Firebolt pages, but it's too weak and costs too much Mana."
Trent gave his most Cullen-esque grunt, turning to begin his work. His mask hid the way his lips curled upwards. All in all, he was satisfied with the progress his teammates were making.
Kerry hadn't put a scratch on the Stripped Beetle, but he hadn't done anything wrong either. He moved when he was supposed to move and attacked the weakest point of the creature that he could reach. Attacking after the Beast was dead, Trent put down to nerves.
Felicia's Firebolt might be imperfect, however, it was a start. He needed to start pushing Beasts towards her. For some reason, the Mage was reluctant to kill. Having a Spell wasn't enough; Trent needed her to use it and, if possible, teach him to use it.
Thoughts of how to make Felicia an effective part of the team filled him as he cut. He had intended to send her away. He didn't any longer. He listened to his two companions murmuring behind him, and while not joining
the conversation, there was one thing he couldn't deny. Trials were more interesting with company.
That thought sustained him right up until Felicia dragged him into the conversation with an unwelcome comment.
"Kerry's right, Trent," Felicia lifted her voice to be heard. "The dung still has value after the Beetle's dead. You'll need to Harvest that as well… Somehow."
Chapter Thirty-Four "Two Return Scrolls!" Felicia was astonished.
"A gold piece!" Kerry was ecstatic.
"Powdered Beetle Dung!" Trent was bitter as he gingerly pushed the Guardian's drops around with his foot. Being the only party member with the Harvesting Skill was becoming increasingly frustrating.
The Beetle's drops, two battered scrolls, a gold coin, and a pouch of a substance he already had plenty of in his Storage added to his irritation. It also fueled his suspicion. The loot wasn't impressive to Trent, but there was too much of it. Far too much considering the source.
The Scrolls were especially concerning. From what Felicia and Kerry had told him, the Scrolls did show up in Guardian drops occasionally, but they were not commonly found in the Bellrise Trial. Certainly, never two at the same time.
The student Adventurers put down the excessive loot to the exploration of a new floor configuration. Trent felt it was more than that. There was a message in these drops—a message and mocking prod at Trent.
His foot tapped the unwanted pouch as he put it in Storage. That was clearly his potion of the drops. Kerry needed gold, and Felicia, as the Party's Mage, had pounced on the Scrolls. They both said they would split the profits equally, and Trent didn't doubt they would. That wasn't what bothered him.
Trent was being watched. He could feel eyes on him, itching at his skin like a rash. He could hear the laugher trickling through the stone walls rubbing at his pride. The watcher, whether Keeper or Spirit, wanted him to keep going. However, it didn't necessarily want his teammates to remain.
The two Return Scrolls told him that in clear, silken tones. Although the others hadn't spotted it, they didn't know to look for it. Trent was different.
They were being spoon-fed what they wanted most. For Kerry, that meant money, and for Felicia, magic and materials. For Trent?
Trent wanted to clear a Trial. He would go on, no matter what. On the way, he would probably do whatever the watcher wanted of him. Felicia and Kerry were being encouraged to leave in a not-so-subtle way, while Trent was being told to stay.
And he would, but if the watcher thought he was going to be manipulated with Powdered Beetle Dung…
"You can throw a Quest at me worth ten thousand XP, and I'll still walk out of here in a heartbeat if I have to stick my arm in another Beetle for a handful of…" He didn't finish the thought. He did not want to think about it ever again. At that moment, he would have removed the Harvesting Skill from his Status if he could.
Felicia and Kerry exchanged puzzled glances as Trent stomped his way towards the entrance to the next floor. Boots that normally struck as light as falling snow pounded on the stone as Trent stormed off. His party, after trading a series of shrugs and head tilts, followed him more sedately.
Kerry almost ran into Trent's back when the irate Swordsman stopped suddenly, just short of the entrance to a downward sloping path. Without turning, Trent spoke in a loud, wondering voice.
"There was no iron or cave moss on this floor! Not that I saw. Did you two see any?" He did not look over his shoulder. Trent's head was tilted back as if he were addressing the ceiling rather than Kerry or Felicia.
"No." Kerry, not certain he was being spoken too, answered anyway, "Maybe this configuration doesn't have ore deposits or herbs. Besides, you really need the Mining and Herbalism Skills—"
"Both of which I have!" Trent's voice rose in volume as he interrupted Kerry. "That's why I took all those Quests. It would be terrible not to be able to complete them. I would be tempted to leave if we don't find any on the
next floor!"
Having said this, Trent started forward again, leaving Kerry and Felicia wondering if he had hit his head fighting the Striped Beetle. Trent didn't care that his friends had a sudden worry for his sanity. He hadn't been speaking to them in the first place.
Trent's shoulders loosened and he settled back into his usual gait. You couldn't bargain with the Spirits that ran the Trials, but there was no harm in letting them know that, whatever their expectations, Trent had requirements of his own!
"I told you there was a reason for all the drops." Trent twirled what had
once been a wooden spoon between his fingers. He had whittled the round bowl of the spoon into a flat scraping instrument, and after showing it off, proceeded to attack a moss-covered wall.
"You knew that you needed to gather the moss with a wooden instrument when you took the Quest, right?" Kerry asked, looking for a dry place to sit. Three of the room's walls were covered in a thick brown carpet of cave moss, while the fourth was bare grey stone, down which drops of water continuously dripped. The floor was slick, covered in green slime that stuck to his boots and threatened his balance. Dreq had found and curled up in a relatively clean corner. Kerry wished he were small enough to emulate the Dog.
"Didn't you bring a tool for scraping with you?" Kerry asked Trent. He gave up trying to find a comfortable place to sit and joined Felicia in studying the wet wall. The Mage was running her hands gently across the stone, occasionally letting the water puddle in her palm. If it was telling her anything about what to expect from the upcoming floor, Kerry couldn't hear what it was.
Trent busied himself with his moss and pretended he hadn't heard Kerry's question. He had bought a tool for the job, but the spoon was the first wooden implement that he located in his Storage. He was too excited to sort further through his clutter when he had what he needed at hand.
"This place is odd." Felicia tilted her hand to let the water that had
gathered on it run off. "There shouldn't be cave moss, or any materials, in a Safe Zone. We should have to search for them, and guard against attacks if we want to collect them."
"New configuration, new rules." Kerry poked at a droplet and flicked it aside. "Maybe on this floor, all you have to fight is the urge to go to sleep. That will be hard enough. I'm ready to curl up in the sludge."
"Traps start on the second floor." Felicia agreed with Kerry's sentiment, but thinking about it only made her eyelids heavier. "That's always true."
"It was always true," Kerry corrected, flicking another droplet in Felicia's direction. "We're in uncharted waters here."
He paused, waiting for an appropriate amount of laughter to follow his joke. He expected a chuckle and received a glare.
"Think positive. There won't be any traps." Kerry wiped his hand on his satchel and turned away to gesture at the room. "This floor will have limitless treasure and free XP around every corner. The Dungeon has realized we're too much for it to handle and is…owww."
A misshapen wooden spoon bounced off Kerry's forehead and fell to the ground. Kerry rubbed at the sore spot between his eyebrows and gave Trent a hurt look. "What was that for?"
"Put on your helmet," Trent said crossly. "If you can't sleep, we're going on."
"Already? What about the moss?" Kerry pulled his helmet out of his satchel and tugged it on with a grimace. Trent had barely collected a quarter of one wall's worth of the brown vegetation he had been ecstatic to find. His sudden change of mood, from gleeful to apprehensive, stilled Kerry's complaints about flung cutlery.
"I have enough!" Trent slapped his thigh, beckoning Dreq, who rose
sleepily to his feet. "Keep quiet and stay close."
"You were tempting fate," Felicia whispered, elbowing Kerry's arm. "You should know better."
She hurried to catch up with Trent, who had already stepped out of the Safe Zone into the tunnel that led deeper into the Trial. Kerry followed a few seconds later, black iron shield on his arm and spiked club in hand.
The corridor was wider on the second floor. The group could have walked side-by-side, but Trent kept them in single-file. The open space and smooth, water-worn walls made him nervous. The floor was still slick underfoot. Although it didn't pose a problem for Trent, he couldn't help thinking that his less surefooted companions would be troubled by it.
And there was trouble coming! Trent could feel it. The walls had ears. The moss-covered safe room had confirmed that those ears were listening. Kerry had more than tempted fate with his casual remark. He had thumbed his nose at a Keeper or Spirit who did not want the Warrior to continue in the first place.
When Trent spotted the first trap, twenty feet into the second floor, he almost let Kerry walk into it as a learning experience. The nearly invisible string was probably just a tripwire. Probably. In the end, he couldn't risk it and held up a palm to stop the others.
The sight of the tripwire made Trent nostalgic for the Traps he had set himself. At knee height, the strand of wire was guaranteed to foil a carelessly running Adventurer. At a walk, it would, at most, cause one to jerk to a halt. Trent bent to examine the trap, running his hand above it without touching and peering at the wall the wire stretched to.
He did not find any attached mechanism to suggest the Trap was more dangerous than it appeared. From what he could tell, he simply had to cut the wire and they could proceed unhindered. His hand never moved towards his knife.
"Step high, and don't touch it." Dreq started to crawl under the trap, and
Trent stopped him with a boot. Lifting the Dog by the scruff of his neck, Trent set Dreq on the other side and stepped over himself.
He held out a hand to Felicia, who took it and lifted the hem of her robe to follow his example. Once she was safely across, he offered the same help to Kerry. Kerry tried to shrug off the hand that reached for him, but Trent's fingers closed tightly on his elbow.
"The floor is slick." Kerry nodded at the reminder and set his hand on Trent's shoulder as he lifted a leg high. Trent winced when Kerry's foot came perilously close to the wire but said nothing, keeping a steadying hand on Kerry's arm.
Moving deeper inward, Trent's unease grew. The tunnel was silent except for the drip of water and the padding of feet. The light from Felicia's Spell seemed dimmer on the second floor. The grey stone soaked it up before it could travel far. An oppressive mood settled over the party, and even Dreq walked with wilted ears.
All too soon, Trent crouched again to brush his fingers on the floor.
"Another wire?" Kerry asked. Unable to keep still, he swung his club nervously and peered back the way they had come. It was unlikely for Beasts to spawn from that direction. They were too close to the Safe Zone. However, cold sweat trickled down his spine and he thought he could hear clicking in the dark.
"Pressure plate," Trent answered shortly. He chanted under his breath, and a second later, a handful of dust filled his hand. He scattered it on the ground and straightened up. "Keep away from the dirt."
Another time and he would have been overjoyed to find a use for the Charm he had thought was useless. Today he couldn't find it in him. He picked up Dreq and carried the Dog in the crook of his arm, unwilling to trust the puppy's flopping feet.
"Maybe you should disarm it." Kerry wet his lips as he eyed the spot Trent had marked.
"Can't. Not that kind of Trap." Trent scanned the ground and cast Dust
again, sprinkling the created sand on an innocuous section of the tunnel.
"What do you mean? You don't know how?" Felicia spoke up. The marked spot was wider this time, and she moved to the wall, fighting the urge to walk directly behind Trent.
"I mean, it can't be disarmed."
"All locks can be picked, and all Traps can be disarmed." Kerry mimicked the lazy drawl of the Academy's resident expert on theft, woodcraft, and debauchery, Instructor Bragee.
Felicia clicked her tongue at the imitation but let the reminder that such a despicable man existed go. A puzzled look crossed her face. There was a tightness to Trent's shoulders that was hard to miss and harder to understand.
"Whoever told you that is an idiot!" Trent was having to cast Dust every few feet now. He stopped, turning to face Felicia and Kerry. He could feel the questions and objections that were coming his way.
"Or you misunderstood. Not all Traps are meant to be disarmed. The kind you are thinking of are set by people who will return. They are placed in areas the one setting them needs to access again. Chests and rooms, things you want to protect. They aren't intended to go off as much as slow down or discourage thieves and intruders."
Alistern Craw had spoken in a serious tone when he related this lesson to Trent, and Trent could hear the Lieutenant's voice in his head as he imparted the instruction to his friends. "These Traps are meant to go off. They are meant to kill or maim a pursuer. They're the type that a man sets when he isn't going back and doesn't care who gets hurt. Poking at them with wires, picks, or knives is another way of tripping them. We're just…"
Trent bit down on the thought that they were lucky these Traps left space to walk through. It was the same mistake Kerry had made, and one Trent would not repeat. The Trial could come up with ideas on its own. He wasn't going to help.
Fortunately, Kerry and Felicia missed his lapse. They were focusing on the words "maim" and "kill." They stepped with greater caution as Trent turned and began littering the way with handfuls of dirt again. Their eyes
remained wide and attentive even when Trent had stopped casting and came to another halt after a dozen tentative steps.
"Felicia," Trent's voice was strained as he set Dreq down and drew his knives, "have you figured out how to improve that Firebolt Spell yet?"
"Not yet," A sick feeling filled the half-elf's stomach, and she swallowed the warm saliva that flooded her mouth. "I think I have the Mana fluctuations wrong, or the runes. Too much of the book is damaged, and I'm not familiar with Fire. Why? Is it another trap? Can this one be disarmed with a Fire Spell?"
"Not another trap, no." Trent shook his head. "It's the same trap." He stood close to the wall, and with the tip of Sorrow, traced a faint crack
that broke the rock at waist height. Up close, he could see pinprick-like holes, hundreds of them, scarring the stone above the break in the wall. Holes and line, both spread from the last trap they had passed to the next series of pressure plates he could make out up ahead.
"You'll need to concentrate on blocking the tunnel behind us with your Shield Spell." Trent moved back to the center. Closing his eyes, he angled his head and concentrated on listening. A series of chirps, taps, and buzzing came from the front and back, confirming what Trent had discovered.
"Lay flat. Felicia, when I say, block as much of the tunnel as you can!" Trent sank to the ground as he spoke, his breathing easy and steady. "Kerry, cover what she can't and hold on. Dreq, you're with me, try and use Paralyzing Howl… wide, does that make sense?"
The Dog nodding to a question that should have been too complicated for his brain to comprehend puzzled Kerry as much as the way Felicia instantly pulled out her wand and dropped to her stomach. "What's going on?"
"Get down!" Trent snapped, "There's no time for questions! It's the same trap! And we're right in the middle of it!"
The buzzing was louder now. The tapping, clicking and whining chirps more distinct. Kerry was prone beside Felicia with no memory of how he had gotten that way. He shifted to pull his arm and shield out from beneath him as his eyes grew wide with horror.
"The same trap," Trent whispered. "One big trap, and it's about to be triggered."
Chapter Thirty-Five There was a third type of Trap, one Trent wasn't watching for. Alistern
had described many situations that could involve hidden dangers, back when they were preparing a field for a pack of Howlers. He had related even more before they were separated in the Land of the Undying Lord. All of those words rattled around in Trent's brain, but they had never found a resting place. Trent had yet to encounter the situations himself, and the information had little to attach itself to.
The type of Trap Trent had failed to spot was not one that could be set off by careless feet. It was one that was monitored and activated remotely, too late for an enemy to escape. Rocks that fell from a cliff when pushed by a watching ambusher, or a bridge that collapsed when a lever was pulled by a Sentry as a line of soldiers reached the midpoint were two examples that Alistern had given for difficult to avoid pitfalls.
In this case, the tapping feet of oversized insects approaching from both sides worked as well as the boots of a man to trip sensitive pressure plates. A thin sheet of metal shot out of the wall from the break Trent had noticed, cleaving the air as it crossed through the tunnel and slamming into the far side. It bit deep into the stone and stuck there.
The sound of metal hitting stone continued, joining the buzzing and clicking of the approaching Beasts, creating a symphony that filled the tunnel, like drums left out in a driving rain. Felicia and Kerry covered their ears as unseen objects hit the tunnel wall and dropped onto the sheet that kept them from rising. Trent frowned at the raucous noise caused by what he guessed were arrows or darts being fired out of tiny holes.
Down was the only choice. He had considered jumping above the crack when the trap went off. From the sound of things, he would have been shredded by projectiles if he had. Underneath the confining plate, he was able to get on his knees but was hunched over in the cramped conditions. He yelled for Felicia to block her side of the tunnel with her Spell as he drew his knives.
Stone Biting Ants of two varieties rushed at Trent, keeping him from looking back to see if his instructions had been heard. Smaller than Swift Beetles, the Ants came in greater numbers, too many to be easily counted.
The black Ants came low enough to the ground that their flying red comrades were left with plenty of room to buzz along through the air.
Dreq's howl warbled through the air and muddled the approaching army. The black Ants slumped as the sonic attack hit them, however, the red insects flew on unaffected. Whether that was due to Dreq spreading out the range of his howl at the cost of height or because they had a natural immunity, Trent didn't know, and he had no time to puzzle over it.
Covering the tunnel's width would have been simple if he was on his feet. Trent could have swatted the flying Ants from the air and crushed the land- bound beneath his feet without being strained at all. On his knees, Trent was restricted, his movements clumsy.
He cut down two of the flying insects and was grateful to find their defenses did not match Sorrow and Strife's keenness. Though he was slow, he wasn't out of the fight. A red Ant buzzed toward his face and instead of slashing at it, Trent fell onto his back, lashing out with his feet to crush the bug against the low metal ceiling. After the satisfying crunch of the red Beast, Trent stayed on his back, rolling from side to side to kick Ants from the air.
Rolling and wiggling, Trent was in near constant motion. He sheathed his daggers, and when an Ant escaped the spastic attacks of his feet to land on his chest, he slapped it with his hands or completed a roll to smother it with his body. Ants knocked from the air found his boot heels smashing against their crunchy insect heads.
When a black Ant recovered from its paralysis and latched onto his right boot while he was busy kicking with his left, Trent sent it tumbling away from him with a well-placed dart. More darts were flung from his fingers as Trent risked a look backward to see why Dreq wasn't controlling the ground forces with his howl.
He was starting to find this fight, as ridiculous as it was, enjoyable. The Ants made funny noises as they were squashed and the ones that managed to bite at him weren't able to penetrate his armor. A glance backward to see Dreq locked in combat with an Ant twice the Dog's size changed everything.
Mandibles that couldn't harm Trent came dangerously close to tearing into Dreq's soft fur. Dreq snarled as he snapped and grabbed onto the Ant's leg. His jaws had become stronger after he applied his Attribute Points, and the thin limb was ripped free as Dreq shook his head, growling. It might have been enough if Dreq only faced one opponent at a time, but a second Ant had
slipped past Trent and was approaching from behind. Trent stopped that one with a dart and turned back to the wave of Beasts,
his expression serious again. Beyond Dreq, Trent had noticed that Felicia had managed to block most of the tunnel, and Kerry was covering the rest. The Warrior had discarded his club, which was useless in the cramped conditions. Kerry relied on his shield and fist to push the encroaching Ants back. A brief look in Trent's direction said it wasn't going well.
Trent had to be faster! He rose back to his knees. Leaving his knives in their sheaths, Trent followed Kerry's example and struck out with his fists. He snatched red Ants from the air and, cracking them with his hands, hurled broken bodies back into the oncoming horde. His head bounced off the metal ceiling, but he hardly noticed as he continued to whirl, snatch, and punch.
The last Ant on his side fell to a strike with too much force behind it. Trent's fist plowed through the insect's body and became stuck in its innards. He was shaking his hand desperately to free it when Kerry's scream caused him to look back again, his breath catching in his throat.
Kerry's armor wasn't as effective as Trent's. When an Ant avoided the Warrior's thrashing and clamped down on Kerry's wrist, the iron gauntlets crumpled and split. Mandibles ripped into Kerry's skin, and the Ant's mouth unleashed a caustic fluid, which burned and melted, rendering Kerry's hand into a twisted claw of exposed muscle and bone.
Kerry fell back, clutching his arm to his chest and screaming. Ants began to flood through the gap left by the wounded boy. The insects swarmed towards the disabled Warrior, a few splitting off to head for Felicia, who had used nearly all her Mana to maintain her shield and was in no condition to fight them off. The bugs would reach the pair long before Trent could arrive. There was no crossing the twenty or so feet in time, not while crawling.
Dreq had finished three Ants on his own. Using Shadow Lunge to drop onto the bugs from above, he had depleted most of his Stamina and wanted nothing more than to curl up. Curl up and maybe chew on an Ant. He had already discovered that their legs were tasty enough, though he hadn't had time to enjoy a full one yet.
Now wasn't the time for a nap. Dreq might not be attached to these two that took up far too much of Trent's time lately, but he understood his obligations. Although he couldn't fight the Ants by himself, not more than one or two, he could buy Trent a few seconds.
He croaked out a Paralyzing Howl that stopped the Ants advancing
through the breach, the sonic attack sapping the last of his energy. Dreq collapsed on top of his defeated foe, as the wave of Ants slumped against the floor. The last sight his tired eyes captured was Trent loping forward on all fours in a gait the Dog was certain Trent had learned from him.
Trent dropped a Mana potion into Felicia's lap after he killed the invaders that had made it into friendly territory. He should have given her a few of the restoratives earlier. He would make sure she was supplied from now on. Felicia hurriedly gulped the blue liquid, calling out thanks to Trent's back as he squeezed through the area her shield didn't cover, entering the fray once more.
The shield had remained intact since the start of the attack. At her Level, Felicia could maintain the Spell for ten minutes, which meant it had been less than ten since she cast it. She felt like it had been days. It had surely been hours since Kerry had been bitten. He had passed out from the pain now, but his screams still rang in her ears.
She should have watched Trent through the opaque screen she had created with her magic. It had been a comfort watching him squash the bugs that had reached the hem of her robe and kicking feet. It might have been therapeutic to see him swatting and mashing the rest. No matter how hard she tried, though, she couldn't take her eyes off the mangled remains of Kerry's hand.
Venom? Acid? Acidic venom? Whatever it was the Ants had, it had destroyed most of Kerry's flesh and muscles. Minor Heal, the Spell she had touted as the biggest reason for including her on this delve, wouldn't touch that wound. The bone, which could be seen, was intact. That was positive, in a "the patient is half-alive not half-dead," kind of way. It would still take major Healing to restore the hand to working order.
She might have stared at that wound forever. She blamed herself for it. A proper Mage did not hide behind a Shield. A real Mage Apprentice would have cast Grace on Kerry and Fire on the enemy. She didn't like to kill, didn't want to do it! She had never intended to use the Spells Trent was making her learn.
Now… she still didn't like it! Magic should be more than a weapon. The world had swords and Swordsmen. There were Assassins and Warriors around every corner. Why couldn't magic be for healing and wonders of creation? Weren't there enough death dealers like Trent without her throwing flames to burn people alive?
She had tried to summon that argument when Trent pushed the Spell tomb on her. Her tongue had failed her because she had the feeling Trent would agree. A Warrior who was entranced by a pink scarf and who marveled at the thought of a Charm which merely dried your clothing would get it. Magic had potential to accomplish so much good.
Trent's insistence that she be able to protect herself made more sense to her now. She had made a less than serious attempt to learn the Firebolt Spell, thinking she wouldn't need it. It was simpler than Grace or Mage Shield. An hour of genuine study and she could have figured out the missing sections on the damaged pages.
Because she hadn't learned Firebolt, Kerry would probably lose that hand. There weren't any powerful Healers in Bellrise. Kerry would have to go to Al'drossford, and by the time he got there, the injury would cost more than three gold to Heal. Especially if Trent kept enlarging it by ripping the rest of Kerry's gauntlet off!
She came out of her shocked musing with a horrified wail. Her stomach lurched at the sight of Kerry's fully exposed wound as Trent tugged the damaged armor away with a grunt. "Stop that! We need to get him to a Healer! You're making it worse!"
She tried to push Trent aside, to protect Kerry. Trent didn't even look at her. He only stopped what he was doing long enough to shove her back. She fell onto her rear, and when she scrambled for him again, Trent had already produced a vial of red liquid and was pulling the cork loose with his teeth.
"That won't work!" She exclaimed, exasperation at Trent and her inability to stop him made her voice shrill. "Minor Healing isn't enough. He needs… needs… What was in that vial?"
"Greater Healing potion." Trent spat the cork from his mouth. He had poured half of the potion directly onto Kerry's wound and was holding the vial to the unconscious Warrior's lips to administer the rest.
By the time Felicia realized what he was doing, it was too late to stop him. She stared in rapt amazement as the muscle and skin of Kerry's hand reknit around the bone of his arm. Trent had finished pouring the precious restorative before she came to her senses.
"That was a waste," she said numbly. "The wound was already healing, and he doesn't have any other injuries."
"Best to be sure," Trent said tossing the empty vial aside. "What happens when one of us gets hurt again, and we need that half
vial?" "This doesn't happen again." Trent folded Kerry's arms over his chest
and slapped a hand against the sleeping Warrior's breastplate. "We all get better and make sure it doesn't. Watch him. Dreq too. I'll Harvest and collect the drops."
"Can't we let them go?" Felicia found a hint of exasperation again as she released her shield to call after Trent.
"No!" Trent answered, his knife plunging into a corpse to remove a Beast Core. "We've tempted fate already. You can never tell when an insignificant thing can turn the tide."
"Like the wooden spoon?" She said sarcastically. "Exactly!" Trent replied. She couldn't see his face, and he kept working
as he spoke, but she could hear the beaming smile in his voice. A smile that faded quickly as the spoon he had thrown at Kerry was brought to mind.
"Did you pick it up? Did Kerry?" Trent asked nervously. "I think we left it behind."
"Kerry has it, I think," Felicia lied shamelessly, crawling over to where Dreq slept atop a slain bug. She lifted the Dog and awkwardly lugged him back to where Kerry slept.
"That's good." The relief in Trent's voice made a hint of remorse creep into Felicia. "We'll need it if we come across more moss."
Felicia murmured noncommittally, her soft leather shoes slapping together as she fidgeted and pet Dreq. She lasted a full five minutes before claiming she needed a moment of privacy. She rushed back the short distance to the Safe Zone. She felt like the biggest fool in the world, picking up the forgotten spoon and tucking it into her pocket.
There was no telling what level of idiocy she sank to when she returned. Using a small carving knife, she finished the rough work Trent had started on the implement. She went as far as casting Smooth and Harden on the ruined spoon before shoving it in Kerry's satchel.
Once the spoon was out of sight again, she tried to put the incident out of her mind as she began to seriously study Firebolt. She made little progress on the tier-one Spell, however. With her feet tapping together, she imagined the pleased expression on Trent's face when he discovered the improved scraping tool. It would be a shame if there was no more cave moss to be found on this floor.
"Is the ceiling getting higher?" Kerry asked, stretching his right arm above his head ,hoping to smack the stone above with his club.
"Yes," Trent said, coming to a halt. "A lot higher. Can you climb in your armor?"
"Why would I need to… oh." Kerry's eyes dropped from the ceiling to the tunnel ahead to see the answer to his question.
The roof of the corridor had abruptly shot skyward, and the level floor turned into a series of ascending ledges. Resembling a staircase meant for giants, each step stretched several feet taller than any of the party members. The stone of the ledges was smooth and slick, defying any to find a handhold.
"I can climb a little, short walls, fences maybe, but that?" Kerry shook his head. "No way."
"I think I could reach the edge if I stood on someone's shoulders." Felicia crossed to the stone wall and rubbed her hand against it. "Pulling myself up might be a problem though. It's slippery."
Any further conversation was interrupted with the sudden boom of stone crashing down. a slab had dropped, sealing the way back. The four companions who had gathered close to the latest obstacle turned, dread on their faces, in time to watch water start drizzling down the wall behind them. Within seconds the drizzle became a stream, and a waterfall formed. The liquid spread across the floor, quickly reaching their feet.
Trent bent and interlaced his fingers. "You first, Felicia. Kerry, get your armor off!"
"I don't think there's time for this!" Felicia steadied herself by placing a hand on Trent's shoulder and lifting a foot into his cupped hands. She looked towards the waterfall, which continued to grow and threatened to become a raging torrent. "The Return Scrolls—"
"Push off as hard as you can!" Trent had to shout to be heard, and Felicia's head snapped back towards him. He hefted her foot impatiently, discouraging any arguments. The muscles in her leg tensed as she thrust herself up, extending her arms to reach towards the ledge.
It was a useless gesture. She rose up onto the tips of her toes, and Trent straightened with her, not lifting her gently, but throwing her upward. A startled scream broke from her lips as she went past the ledge and came back down. Her ribs struck the edge, and her feet slapped against the wall. She felt herself sliding backward and, ignoring the lack of air in her lungs, began scrabbling at the smooth stone.
She hung there for a moment, wondering how many ribs she had broken and what this ridiculous maneuver had gained them. Kerry was twice her weight, if not more. There was no way Trent would be able to throw him up here, and while she had stopped herself from sliding back, she didn't think she could pull herself up.
Felicia had screamed when flying up. Kerry squawked as he came down as hard as she had. Trent had learned from the first throw and adjusted the angle. Kerry landed on his stomach, all but his feet safely on the ledge. Felicia noted he had managed to remove his upper armor, but from the waist down Kerry was still covered in iron. Trent was stronger than he looked.
There remained the problem of how they were going to get Trent up. The ledge was at least ten feet high. Dreq could be thrown, Felicia supposed, but they had no rope or…
Trent's knees flexed, and he turned his momentum into a forward roll as he made the impossible leap with Dreq tucked under one arm. Setting the Dog down, Trent grabbed Felicia's hands and pulled her to her feet.
"Sorry about that. Not my best throw. I'll get it right next time," Trent shouted an apology to her as he helped Kerry up and urged them forward. They reached the next ledge before Felicia could count how many of the steps towered over them. Her ribs were screaming complaints, and the rest of her bones ached as they realized they would soon receive the same treatment.
Trent did not allow for any delays. The trickle that had become a stream was now a flood. The room containing the steps was wide, but at the rate the water was flowing, it wouldn't take long before it caught up.
"It's just water, right?" Kerry watched as Felicia was tossed into the air again and flinched as she came back down. He pressed a sympathetic hand to his chest. "Can't we just tread water until it stops?"
"I can't swim." Trent squatted down, cupping his hands. "And we don't know when it will stop. Come on!"
Kerry whimpered as he set his foot in Trent's waiting palms. The second landing was no softer than the first. He thought it would be better to drown that subject himself to the pounding again. He rolled on to his back and looked to where Felicia lay with her forehead pressed to the ground.
"He can't swim," Kerry coughed miserably. "Good to hear." Felicia began to push herself up. "How does he jump like
that?" Enhanced Jump was the answer that Trent refused to supply as he tugged
the pair to their feet. He hustled them along, admonishing Kerry for talking when he should have been removing his armor. Casting a look backward to see the water rising, he was unsympathetic to the plight of his companions.
Water had already covered the first ledge and showed no sign of stopping. If anything, the flow of crashing liquid seemed to be coming faster. Trent felt an irresistible urge to flee from the swirling water. He had always found streams and pools to be comforting. Shallow and refreshing, they were a welcome break from the stale drinks provided by his water skin and the clinical cleaning of magic.
Deep water was another story. It was an enemy he couldn't fight, a foe he was unable to vanquish. There were plenty of opponents out there that were stronger than he, but a sword was no help against the airless, crushing environment that was threatening to sweep over him.
Trent was at the next wall preparing to throw a sullen Felicia, whether she wanted to be tossed or not, when he realized that Dreq had stayed behind and was barking at the way they had come. He screamed at the Dog as he hoisted Felicia into the air. Even as Kerry joined the Mage in an upwards fall, Dreq refused to come.
Trent activated Dash and rushed back to pluck Dreq from the ground. Dreq whined and patted the air as he was swept away. He pointed with his nose and barked, "Look!"
Trent was tempted to shake the Dog and throw him aside, but trusting that Dreq wouldn't waste time for no reason and fearing that a Beast might be swimming up behind him, Trent thrust his panic away long enough to look into the water below.
What he saw caused him to forget his fear. The water lapped and splashed, rippling the surface of the forming pool. It shouldn't have been possible to see the bottom in the disturbances resulting from the thundering waterfall. Yet, despite the roiling of the water, the bottom was visible.
There had been no objects decorating the floor when they entered. No carvings, shelves, or depressions scarred the walls in this chamber. Trent had checked. There was no way to explain the shadow he saw, beckoning to him from the depths. The dark, box shape had not been there before, but there was something underneath the twenty feet of water now.
"I see it." Trent placed a reassuring, apologetic hand on Dreq's head and the Dog ceased his frantic squirming. "We can't get to it. I can't. We'll have to leave it."
He left Dash activated as he sprinted away. Enhanced Jump sent him soaring into the air, and when he landed, he found Felicia and Kerry were up and waiting. Not eager to repeat their torturous ascent but not laying around moaning either. It was an improvement.
They continued their climb, the heights being the only thing barring their way. Five ledges, ten, twenty, and even Trent's Stamina began to fall, unable to recover with the constant drain of lifting and running. Kerry was no lightweight in or out of armor. Trent's arms began to feel the strain, and his legs started to dread the next leap as Enhanced Jump began to take its toll.
Kerry felt like one huge bruise as his body hit the floor for the twentieth time. Trent had threatened to leave him behind multiple times, and Kerry was ready to take up the offer. He might not be the best swimmer, but he could tread water. He had stripped out of his plate, and even his boots were in Trent's Storage.
No one grabbed his collar to haul him to his feet. No shouts or shoves pushed him forward and Kerry warily raised his head to see why Trent, the taskmaster, had disappeared. He was gratified to find a tunnel stretching out before him. He hoped it had lots of Stone Biting Ants inside. He needed something to take his agony out on. Once his body stopped throbbing anyway.
What Kerry didn't see was Trent. Felicia was there. She had dragged herself to the side and was sitting against the wall, head lowered to her chest. Dreq, the despicable mutt, who was small enough to be given a ride, was there as well. He sat, tail swishing, looking like he had enjoyed the whole process.
But no Trent. Kerry debated the benefits of turning over and decided they outweighed the cost. If Trent had abandoned them, he would be free to curse the Swordsman out loud rather than in the depths of his heart.
It took Kerry three tries to flip onto his back and lift his head. Trent stood at the edge of an extensive underground lake, his back to the tunnel which led deeper into the Dungeon. Levering himself up to his elbows was a mistake, but Kerry managed it, curious to see what held Trent captivated.
The waterfall was gone; the water had stopped rising. A pristine pool of water extended out, not a ripple marring its surface. No Beasts dragged themselves from the lake to fling themselves at Trent. From what Kerry could see, there was nothing to look at that was worth staring that way. The quiver in Trent's empty hands and the set of his shoulders said he disagreed.
"What is it, Trent?" Kerry forced the words out. Trent didn't answer. He sunk to the ground beside Kerry and crossed his
legs before sighing and saying, "I need to rest. Can either of you stand watch for a while?"
"I'm awake." Kerry pushed himself into a sitting position. "My body is destroyed, but I won't fall asleep."
"Same," Felicia murmured feebly. "Good, give me a couple of hours." Trent lay back and put his hands
behind his head. "Two, no more than three. Then we'll see what's back there."
"What's where?" Kerry strained his eyes, but all the light from Felicia's Spell showed him was a few feet of water and stone. "Are you talking about the tunnel?"
Trent was already asleep. He had probably been asleep when he murmured his intentions to explore. Kerry thought that had to be it. Trent had spoken without looking at the route they had to take to leave this place. There was no way he could have been talking about crossing the lake.
Chapter Thirty-Six "I thought you couldn't swim," Kerry said. He had reclaimed his
equipment from Trent and put it on while Trent stretched, limbering up after his short rest.
Trent swung his arms and twisted at the waist. "I can't. What does that have to do with anything?"
"You could slip," Kerry stressed, waving his hand at the lake, "fall in, hit your head. You'll sink like a rock wearing all that gear."
"So, I don't slip." Trent bent and touched his toes. Kerry lifted his foot to kick the target Trent presented. If Trent wouldn't listen, maybe a quick dip would convince him how unreasonable he was being.
"And if you do?" Felicia said softly, "Aren't you afraid?" Kerry restrained his foot for a moment and lost his chance to pay Trent
back for the pain he had suffered under Trent's ministrations when the Swordsman straightened and said, "Yes, but that's no reason not to go. I'm willing to let you two go instead. You can swim, right?"
"Ah." Kerry stepped away from the water and Trent's suggestion as quick as he could. The water that had been transparent before had turned dark and forbidding. There was no telling what it concealed. "I can but not well enough to risk it."
"I swim like a fish," Felicia added, "but I can't cast and swim. I'd be defenseless."
She sounded ashamed saying this. She knew that Trent would be even more helpless, and all it would take was a mistimed step.
"Then it has to be me." Trent backed away from the water, activating Dash, and rolling his head on his neck. He had known it would be this way. Had to be this way. This was the steam all over again. Swimming wasn't the answer because he couldn't swim. The most the others could do would be to scout the way and tell him what to expect.
"It doesn't have to be anyone. We can…" Kerry's words fell on Trent's back. The toes of Trent's boots pushed off the edge of the solid platform, and an impossible jump carried him into the dark where Felicia's Spell couldn't reach.
Trent tried to keep his body loose and his eyes on his target. He tried to
pretend it was solid ground he leaped over. He told himself there was no need to look down; he had seen the stone floor before. His roiling stomach didn't believe him any more than his sweating palms did.
Platforms of stone jutted out from the Trial's walls. Made from the same blue-gray rock and spaced at distances too far for anyone without Enhanced Jump to reach, the wide shelves might have been resting places for a swimmer. They could have been, but they weren't. There would be an obstacle at the end only he could cross; Trent was sure of that.
His feet touched down on stone closer to the unfathomable water than he would like. The platform was short, a few stumbling steps brought him to the far edge, and Trent teetered for a moment, heart pounding. The rock was slightly rough under his feet, allowing him to find the traction he needed. He had been prepared to activate Steady Footing, but it wasn't necessary.
He backed up and prepared for the next jump. He bit his lip and pushed his legs forward before he could rethink his decision. He did not look back. The sight of Kerry and Felicia's concerned faces might have spoiled his resolve. They were right. There was no reason Trent had to do this.
His next landing was as precarious as his first. He almost fell backward, and a last-minute shifting of weight was all that anchored him on the ledge. He inched his way forward and pressed a hand to the wall as he released the breath he had been holding.
He shouldn't have pushed the Trial. Setting the platforms at the limits of his ability to jump had to be a warning. Didn't it? Maybe he was still reading too much into things. After all, Trials weren't supposed to be easy. If he could step from stone to stone like crossing a bridge, what would be the challenge in that?
Trent repeated that as he used Enhanced Jump to fling himself to the next ledge. He stopped saying it after that. What was wrong with an easy Trial? The steam had been nice for the most part. Why couldn't all obstacles be like that? A plateful of food that had to be eaten but left you uncomfortably full, or a bed that was a touch too soft but had to be slept in; where were the Trials with challenges like that?
The ledges came to an end against the wall that had produced the waterfall. He had to activate Steady Footing on it. Three feet wide, stretching from one corner of the tunnel to the other, Trent had bounced off the wall and almost fell before he activated the Skill to stay upright.
His mask tapped on stone as Trent pressed his forehead to the wall. He
had made it. Feeling backward with one foot and finding the edge right away, Trent felt he had made a mistake. There was no treasure or loot on this shelf. There also wasn't room to get a running start, something he would need to make his way back. He had come all this way for nothing.
He left his head where it was and explored the area out of the corners of his eyes. Open air, smooth stone, and deep water were all that could be seen. He clenched his hands in frustration where they rested on the wall. That frustration vanished as his fingers caught in the slightest of lips, the most subtle protrusion. There was something else here.
He felt upwards and found another lip. His mouth dried out when he lifted his foot and scraped it against the wall to discover a third. A person could pull himself up using these bumps. The knowledge came from his Climb Skill, and it came with a caution. Trent had clambered up trees before. He had not scaled a cliff. It would be stretching his Skill to ask for its support in this endeavor.
Trent pulled himself up and stretched out to feel for the next handhold, all the while wondering if he had been wrong. The steam had felt like it was for him, but Climb wasn't a rare Skill. There were probably a lot of people that had it. Scaling the cliff face was a slow process, different from climbing trees. When Trent levered himself into a small cave thirty feet above the water's surface, he felt that it wasn't improbable that many of the students from Bellrise Academy could have accomplished this feat.
Not Kerry. It was unfair to call the Warrior fat. He did, however, have a roundness, a certain amount of bulk, that would have made standing on the ledge below awkward. His fingers lacked the Dexterity needed for gripping the slight handholds. Trent chuckled, imagining Kerry's feet scraping for footing, failing to find it, and splashing into the water for his troubles.
Felicia was Agile enough to make the climb. At least part of it. Strength would be her problem. Trent remembered how hard a time she had pulling herself up when he hadn't been able to throw her over that first ledge. Some of that had been the smooth nature of the stone, but her delicate fingers were as much to blame. She had hands meant for flipping pages and gesturing with a wand, not clutching stone.
Others from their school had to be better balanced, though. Trent thought any Rogue would have laughed at the cliff. Laughed at the cliff and drooled over what had been left in the cave. The two Skill Stones, and a circlet of woven silver would excite any low-leveled Adventurer. They certainly made
Trent's eyes light up. Basic Flail, a Weapons Skill, was picked up first and stored away without
much thought. It didn't confirm or dismiss Trent's suspicions about the Trial. From a monetary point of view, it was a good find, but considering they didn't have an actual flail to accompany it, it wasn't much use.
The circlet had Trent catching his breath. It was the only headgear he had ever held that made him think about switching out his cowl. Although the circlet had no Defensive Rating or attached Skills, it did reduce the Mana cost of all Spells below tier-three by fifteen percent. Had Trent possessed a Spell greater than a Charm, he would have tried on the circlet immediately.
Since he didn't, Trent reluctantly put the circlet, with its gracefully woven silver frame, away and picked up the final Stone. Free Diving was a swimming Skill, and it was added to his Status the moment Appraisal revealed its secrets. Free Diving was to swimming what Military Fencing was to Basic Longsword. It had a strict requirement for Stamina, but other than that, it gave Trent all the knowledge he needed to explore the surface and plumb the depths of the lake below.
Trent could swim back to the others! No need for hair-raising leaps. No wondering if he would be able to grasp the lip of a ledge before he sank to his death. Sinking was no longer an issue anyway. Free Diving would use his Stamina to offset the weight of his armor. He would not need to strip or disarm for the trip.
All of that was enough to have Trent punching the air in victory while singing the Trial's praises. So why did his chest feel tight? Why were his teeth and hands clenched? Why could he hear Dreq barking at him to look? The air was still and quiet, and the water below was smooth as the surface of a mirror. So why was he picturing ripples and imagining the roar of a thousand gallons of water beating against rock? Why could he see…
… a box. The shadow of a box, deep under sheltering waves. A box Dreq had spotted that Trent had no way of reaching. Not before.
He stood and looked over the edge. He could feel eyes drilling into the back of his skull. A drop of water fell from the ceiling. It struck the lake with a lonely plop, sending ripples in all directions. Trent could hear the laughter in that drip. The sound was practically inaudible, but the dare it represented clamored in his ears.
How far had they climbed to escape the flood? A hundred feet? Two? Three hundred? Free Diving would replace his need to breathe to an extent. It
would protect him from the cold and shield him from the worst of the pressure that would be exerted on him, as long as his Stamina held out. The deeper he went, the more energy the Skill would sap.
What did Trent have besides Stamina? Great reserves of Stamina and Health had been the only tangible benefit of the Survivalist Class. Compared to Kerry or Felicia or any of their fellow students, compared to the Guard Recruits or even some of the trained Guardsmen, Trent had Stamina for days. Many of the Adventurers who delved this Trial could have made the climb to find the Skill Stone. How many of them could use it to reach a box hundreds of feet underwater? How many of them would risk it for unknown rewards?
Trent's hands removed his belt with its pouches, weapons, and tools. He kept a simple belt knife out, tucking it into the waist of his pants, and put the rest in Storage. He removed his boots, socks, and chainmail shoulder-guard, and they joined his belt. He left his armor, gloves, and cowl on. There was no telling what waited for him, and Free Diving would counter their weight. He might need the protection. He stepped forward, his toes hanging over the lip of the cliff. Trent took a deep breath in and exhaled it slowly as he raised his hands over his head. A second breath inhaled quickly, expelled forcefully, and then Trent was plunging downwards.
His fingers hit the water and his body followed. He began to kick and pull himself with fluid strokes. The water closed around him, pressing in, and he felt a moment of panic that he shoved down. His mask normally allowed him to see regardless of lighting conditions, but as he sank deeper, Trent found his vision restricted to his immediate surroundings. A black emptiness confined him. The lack of any details, of scenery, stirred the unease in his stomach.
He was in the mouth of a Beast. No, the throat. Wet muscles were working to crush and push him towards the creature's belly and death. Instead of fighting the Beast, Trent helped it, gliding forward, using as little movement as possible.
His Stamina trickled away as it battled his instinct to draw in air. Trent had to fight not to check his Status, to see how much of his energy was draining away. The was no need. He would not stop until he reached the bottom. It was stupid and reckless, but he was committed.
Stupid, Jerkface! Why are you always so stupid! It was Tersa's voice, Tersa's words. The words she always shouted at him
when he did something she disagreed with, something that scared her. They
were usually followed by a screamed obscenity as she passed by him, charging ineffectually.
Do not do unnecessary things, Runt! These were Cullen's words, bouncing around Trent's head. Try as he
might, though, he couldn't hear the Sergeant's voice. It was Trent's voice shouting the words because this was not a situation that Cullen would object to.
Cullen always told his Recruits to go slow, work in teams, and don't be a hero. Recruits were soldiers. Their lives weren't theirs to squander. Recruits and Guardsmen belonged to Cullen, and they had damn well better not die without permission.
Adventurers were different. Adventurers had to take risks. That was what the Sergeant would say. Otherwise they were just Farmers, collecting the things a society needed without truly reaping the benefits of the Trials, without ever seeing the wonders of the Wilds.
Cullen would understand and approve of what he was doing. He would never say it, he might even yell at Trent for being a milk-sucking fool, too foolish to be alone around sharp objects, but his sneer would be half-smile when he did so.
Trent's panic disappeared at the thought, and a lump formed in his throat that had nothing to do with the lack of oxygen. Why did he always think of Cullen at moments like these? Why did the Sergeant's approval even matter? Why would any sane person ever want to stand in front of that absurd man and hope to see the glint in cold black eyes that meant, whatever he said, he was proud?
Trent distracted himself by running through the story he would tell Cullen to make that glint appear. He wouldn't lie. You should never lie to the Sergeant. He would need to gloss over a few details, though. Working with a Reme and entering a Trial with a stranger would have to be worded carefully. Maybe Martin Vane and the Dire Bear could be left out of his report altogether.
Trent's fingers struck a hard surface while he was still trimming unflattering details from a story he didn't believe he would have to tell. His eyes focused on the black that was all around him to confirm that it was the floor and not the wall he had come in contact with. He was unsure. It was disorienting to be this deep.
It had to be the floor. If not, he was in trouble. He was in trouble either
way as his fingers had hit stone. It had not occurred to Trent that he had no way of determining his target's exact location when he dove off the cliff. He could be within ten feet of the box he assumed was waiting for him, or forty feet away.
Picking a direction at random, Trent pulled with his hands and pushed with his feet, skimming along the ground, his head swiveling. He pushed off in another direction when he came to a wall, desperation building in his chest. He fought and lost the battle to check his Stamina when he hit a third wall.
256 out of 630. Less than half. He should start back immediately. He had failed. His fingers dragged on the stone as he threw himself forward. One more wall. He hadn't come all this way for nothing. A second trip was out of the question. The first had been made in ignorance. He might not be able to find the courage now that he knew what to expect.
A shadow rushing at him from the black had Trent scrambling for the belt knife he had stuck in his pants. The knife was half drawn before Trent realized the shadow was stationary and not a threat. It was the box, the chest that he had been looking for. He fumbled the knife and nearly dropped it in his relief.
Kicking and pulling, Trent arrived at his destination. His hands ran over weathered-looking wood as he searched for a clasp or handle. A rusty chain was bolted to the lid of the chest, and Trent's hand closed around it. He tugged on it and frowned when the lid didn't move. Was the chest locked?
There was no sign of a keyhole. Using the knife in his hand, Trent found the seam of the lid and dug into it. Bracing his feet, pulling on the chain, and prying with his knife, Trent tried to open the chest again. A crack appeared and air pockets began to bubble out. Trent pulled harder, knowing he was wasting Stamina and precious time but unwilling to leave now that the lid had started to yield.
The box sprang open quicker than he anticipated. His feet shot him upward, until his clenched fist dragged him around and jerked him to a halt. Trent explored the interior of the box with his hands and found four items inside. Three small ones and a larger one, they all went into Storage the second his fingers drifted across them. He made several sweeps with his hands across the bottom of the box before he was convinced that he had everything. Kicking off the ground, Trent began a hurried ascent.
100 out of 630. His Stamina was worryingly low as he clawed at the water and kicked for all he was worth. He left his Status open, morbid
curiosity compelling him to observe how much longer he had to live. Free Dive had been helping him drop as he went down, and on his return, it increased his buoyancy. If anything, he went faster going up.
It wasn't enough, however. His Stamina bottomed out. Was he even halfway back to the surface? A weakness that could not be denied caused his arms to stop their pulling. His feet kicked feebly a few times before he lost sensation in his legs. He expected to feel a burning sensation from his lungs any second.
The need for oxygen remained suppressed. Trent felt a pulse of pain ripple through him. Once, twice, again and again, at two to three second intervals. Trent was helpless to fight them. He curled over, shaking as he continued to float upwards. His Status was open, and he soon found the source of the pain that twisted his body.
Stamina: 0 out of 630. Health: 600 out of 630 Deprived of its primary energy, Free Diving had quickly started draining
his HP. Trent watched it fall below 600 and continue to fall. How long had it taken him to reach the bottom? There was no saying, but it would take him longer to resurface. He drifted, unable to swim, his limbs lurching and stomach twisting. His vision, already hindered, began to blur.
The gasp of air he took when his head bobbed into the open was involuntary. The sweet oxygen that filled his lungs halted the racking spasms. The pain diminished, but the ache of cramping muscles remained. Before his head sank below the surface, Trent drew in a deep breath and held it. He made his muscles relax and leaned back. Water pressed over his face again.
The single drop of water that splashed off his mask as he floated on his back was insulting. Trent tried to breathe evenly; it was the only thing he could do. He didn't have the strength or will to move. Floating was the limit of his abilities.
Health: 117 out of 630 Four more drops of water bounced off his mask before he had enough
Stamina to begin pushing with his hands in the direction he hoped lay a rock ledge. His Stamina, normally so quick to recover, was filling slower than his Mana usually did. He thought it might be because Free Diving was still acting to keep him afloat despite the weight of his armor.
When his head bounced against stone, Trent stretched out an arm. His hand grabbed hold of stone after the third try and he flipped over in the water. Flopping an arm onto the ledge, he hung there unable to pull himself up. He
retrieved a Stamina potion from his Storage and dropped it twice before he was able to get the cork between his teeth. He spilled more than half of the precious liquid as he drank from the vial.
A Stamina potion and two Health potions later, Trent was finally able to exit the water. He pushed up his mask and lay his cheek against the cool stone, eager to feel solid ground beneath him and needing the skin to rock contact to know it was real.
"I thought you couldn't swim," Kerry said, crouching down. He looked at
the hand Trent extended but didn't take it. "That's a strange thing to lie about."
"I couldn't swim." Trent swatted the air, begging Kerry to realize what he wanted. "I can now. Please help me out."
"Doesn't make sense." Kerry scratched his ear. "Why do you look so weak?"
"Because I am!" Trent slapped his hand next to Kerry's foot. Enhanced Jump took precise timing. Timing that Trent's punished muscles were unable to manage. He had been forced to swim back to where the rest of his party waited with short paddling strokes, resting often when Free Diving drained his Stamina.
"Weird." Dreq came forward and grabbed Trent's sleeve in his teeth, tugging for all he was worth and accomplishing nothing. Kerry's hand fell to give the Dog a friendly pat. "This one went crazy while you were gone. Pacing and howling. I think he missed you."
Trent summoned the last of his energy. Kicking hard, he surged up a few inches, his fingers latching onto Kerry's wrist. "Pull me out of here. Or when I can get out myself, I'll toss you in!"
"Hey, no need to get rough!" Kerry winced and pried at Trent's fingers. For a man who claimed to be at the brink of exhaustion, Trent didn't seem weak. Kerry thought he could hear the bones of his wrist grinding under Trent's fingers. "Just wanted to get the facts straight!"
Trent kept hold of Kerry until the Warrior pulled him from the water. He gave one last squeeze, which made Kerry yelp, before releasing him.
"Are you alright?" Felicia knelt down beside Trent and, pushing her hat back, began searching him for wounds. "Are you injured?"
Trent shook his head as he checked his Status. His Stamina began to recover at its usual rate and his Health started to tick up. "I'll be fine. Give me
a minute… or ten." "So, what happened?" Kerry rubbed at his wrist and kept carefully out of arms reach. "Was it worth it? Find anything good?"
"I found some things. I don't know if it was worth it, though." Once Trent had hated the Mana cost of Storing things with his Ability. That cost had decreased with time, and now he had a profound appreciation for any Skill or Ability that didn't run on Stamina. "See for yourself."
Felicia sorted and Evaluated the items as Trent made them appear. Her sighs and awestruck mutters, which may have been slightly exaggerated, drove Kerry to distraction as she kept the results of her Spell to herself.
"Gonna share what you found out, Felly?" Kerry asked, sitting beside her. "That reminds me, Trent." Felicia turned the circlet over wistfully before
setting it back down. "I perfected the Spells while you were gone. Firebolt, Weak Fireball, and Burning Touch. I'll demonstrate them for you. On Kerry. If he ever calls me Felly again!"
"No nicknames, got it," Kerry agreed amiably. "So what have we got here?"
"Does it matter?" Felicia slapped Kerry's hand away as he started to pick up what appeared to be an oddly shaped mace. "From the look of things, Trent almost died getting them, with no help from us. They're his."
"Not how it works." Trent groaned and pulled himself into a sitting position. "Equal shares."
He began to sort the large pile into three smaller ones, frowning as he finished. The last item remained in his hand as he considered where it should go. Night Sight could be for any of them. He and Felicia didn't need it, but then Kerry didn't really either. The Warrior had no business going off to areas Felicia's Spells did not reach.
A circlet and wand for Felicia, a weapon and Skill for Kerry, a ring and Free Dive for himself, the distribution didn't take a lot of thought. So who should get Night Sight? A snuffling nose pushed against the back of Trent's hand as Dreq crawled into his lap. The Dog's eyes were wide and somber as he lifted a paw to claw at the Stone.
"You want this?" Trent started to move the Stone away. Dreq could be astonishingly quick when he wanted something. Dreq whined to see the treasure escaping his reach, and Trent stopped. Dreq had contributed more to the delve than the human Warrior of half-elven Mage. Why shouldn't he get a reward?
The Stone containing Night Sight drifted back towards Dreq and the Dog, seeing Trent's fingers unlock, jumped forward, his nose bumping the Stone free. It clattered to the ground, and Dreq pounced after it, chasing it until the round escapee was trapped against the wall. Dreq captured the Stone between his paws and settled in to lick and gnaw at it.
Trent watched as the Stone grew smaller as Dreq worried at it. That was proof enough for Trent that the Skill had ended up where it was meant to be. He pushed Felicia's share towards her and claimed the thin green ring that was left for himself. Kerry had already picked up the weapon set aside for him.
Trent slid the ring onto his right hand. It had felt heavy when he held it, but once it was in place, it was barely noticeable. He channeled a stream of Mana into it and felt a 'click.' The leather-wrapped hilt of a sword filled his hand, as the ring was replaced by the weapon it contained. A blade, single edged and two feet long, extended above a short cross guard.
The weight of the sword was comfortable in his hand, but Trent found himself frowning at it. The metal of the blade was a dirty green, ugly with an unfinished look. The sword ended in a flat line as if the tip had been sheared away and roughly sharpened. It looked more like a machete than a longsword, a weapon for hacking rather than refined swordplay.
With a Damage Rating of 25, the blade was slightly inferior to Sorrow and Strife. However, with bonuses from his Class and Skills, the sword's potential soared. It might not suit his style of fighting perfectly, but there was no doubt that a sword was the weapon for a Swordsman.
A fact that Kerry was quick to point out. "A sword for a Swordsman." Kerry hefted the weapon he had picked up,
as he glanced at Trent. "Not exactly original. It does make you look the part, though. What is this thing anyway? Some kind of weird mace?"
"It's a flail," Felicia answered him, "and you can't keep it." "Flails have chains, and this is just an off-centered knob on a shaft,"
Kerry argued, tapping the round protrusion on the floor. "I think it's a mace." "Insert Mana into it like you would the shield ring," Trent advised. "The
chain will grow depending on how much MP you use. You will need to practice with it.
Kerry concentrated, and when the ball of the flail dropped from the haft to dangle from a foot of chain, he gave an excited chuckle.
"Learn the Skill first." Trent reached out and stopped Kerry from
swinging the flail. "You'll hurt yourself without it. And move away before you hurt one of us."
Kerry picked up the Skill Stone with a certain amount of trepidation. He licked his lips as his brow furrowed. He willed himself to learn what the Stone contained and when the orb crumbled, he opened his Status to double- check that there was an addition there.
After six months of training, and he finally had a weapon that felt comfortable in his hand. Six months of being an Adventurer, and he was finally starting to feel like one. Glowing with pleasure, Kerry opened his mouth to thank Trent.
"Why?" Felicia cut in before Kerry could speak. She hadn't touched the wand or circlet that Trent had pushed to her. "Why are you doing this? It's too much."
"What strengthens one of us, strengthens us all." Trent leaned back and dismissed his sword as Felicia glared at him from beneath the brim of her hat. "You have more use—"
"Not good enough!" Felicia huffed. "You hardly know us. Platitudes won't cut it. It's one thing to team up temporarily and talk about equal shares. It is another for you to hand over loot we haven't earned. What do you get out of this?"
Trent's head swiveled away from Felicia's insistent eyes. It swiveled again as Kerry put his flail down and joined the Mage in staring. Seeing Dreq standing with his hackles raised at the two, a snarl lifting his lips to expose his teeth, Trent found the answer to Felicia's question. He patted his thigh, beckoning Dreq to come close, and with the Dog leaning on his leg, he faced his companions' demands.
"Company," Trent said simply. "The Trials are more interesting with company."
"To what end? Are you looking to form a permanent group?" Felicia did not let up, but her pining eyes couldn't hold Trent down anymore.
He stood and began removing his waterlogged clothing. "I'm wet again. And tired. Now that you two can defend yourselves, I can sleep easier. Then we clear this floor. Or you can go back. It's up to you."
"Felicia, why do you sound like you hope he's looking to recruit?" asked Kerry, scooting around until his back was to Trent. "You haven't even told him about your condition yet. All these questions, but you're the one holding out."
"I'm not hoping for anything…" Felicia was grateful for the distraction. She turned away from Kerry and started answering before his words registered. When they did, she pushed her hat back to properly glare at Kerry. "My condition? What condition?"
"Maybe that's the wrong word." Kerry scratched at his cheek. "Your circumstances? Whatever. You know what I'm talking about. You should tell him before he starts depending on us."
"Why don't you tell him," Felicia said in a chilly voice. "I'll correct you if I think you're getting it wrong."
"It's not a big deal." Kerry patted her hand, not noticing how her knuckles went white as she gripped the cloth of her robe. "The whole Academy knows. We understand. Trent will too."
"Felicia may have learned the Spells you gave her," Kerry lifted his voice to address Trent, "but she can't cast them. She is a support Mage because her religion doesn't allow her to kill or eat meat. She's an Elf."
Trent dropped his shirt on the floor, next to his armor, and stared at the back of Kerry's head. He had seen the Mage eating dried meat with dainty bites and obvious enjoyment a few hours ago. At least half the Warrior's statement was wrong and, judging from the angry flush that crept up Felicia's neck, she didn't appreciate the misconception.
"Is that what they say about me around the Academy? That I can't fight because I'm an Elf?" Her voice was sweet as Felicia removed her hat, revealing her pointed ears and green hair.
"It's alright," Kerry replied comfortingly. "We get it. No one holds it against you."
"Of all the… pigheaded… ignorant… childish…" Felicia wrung her hat between her hands, and Kerry, sensing that another slap might be headed his way, dove out of reach.
"I am an Adventurer, just like everyone at the Academy." Felicia felt around behind her back until she found the circlet, and wand that had been left there. "I profit from the Dungeons and death. If I belonged to the religion you mentioned, that wouldn't be allowed."
She settled the circlet on her head and flourished the wand in Kerry's direction. "Elves have produced some of the finest Warriors the world has ever seen. Ask Trent if you don't believe me. His people know…"
She clamped down on that thought hard before words, as insulting to Trent as Kerry's had been to her, could escape. Trent's ears had perked up,
but he showed no signs of wanting to join the conversation and busied himself with getting dressed.
"Okay, calm down." Kerry held up his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "Then why don't you—"
"Because!" Felicia let out an explosive breath and carefully set the wand down in her lap. Kerry had no way of knowing why Felicia had chosen to fill support roles in the past. His ignorance was as infuriating as it was understandable.
"Because," she continued after a moment, "tier-one Spells aren't strong enough. I'm not strong enough. As I am now, weak Spells deal a set amount of Damage. Weak Fire Spells, which are usually all that show up in Bellrise, are the worst. They kill slowly, painfully. Not wanting to burn a creature to death and being unwilling to fight are two very different things."
"I've been trying to craft a wand that will empower my magic enough to make tier-one Spells more effective. Like this one." Felicia held up the wand in her lap. She turned without thinking and was relieved to find Trent dressed and laying out a hide on the cold stone.
"That's why I needed the insect legs," she explained. "I still don't like the idea of using Fire, but with this wand, and circlet… Thank you, Trent," she finished gruffly.
Trent waved away her thanks and set out a second set of hides. "We'll take turns standing guard. We could all use a rest. Who wants to go first?"
"Kerry does." Felicia moved to the hides and settled down on one. "He has a lot to think about."
Kerry tried to share a glance with Trent in which they would silently agree that women were unpredictable and found Trent had already rolled up in his hide. Kerry sighed as he stood and faced the tunnel which led deeper into the Dungeon. He began running through the moves of Basic Flail, taking advantage of the downtime to familiarize himself with his new weapon.
He heard Felicia murmuring curiously behind him, and then she began casting her Evaluate Spell. He didn't think much of it and kept concentrating on the ball and chain in his hand.
"Did you use a Charm to cure a Dire Bear hide!?" Kerry almost dropped his flail when Felicia's angry tirade began. A broad smile split his face as the Mage explained in great detail and scorching terms exactly how foolish Trent was. For a person who didn't like setting fire to living beings, she showed Trent no mercy. Kerry suspected the next time he wanted to share a
commiserating look, the Swordsman wouldn't let him down.
Chapter Thirty-Seven It turned out that the Prepare Hides Charm was meant to be used on
animal skins. Anything greater, even a Basic Beast, and the Spell did more harm than good, decreasing the value and limiting what could be made from the hide. Trent was well-schooled on the principles of appreciating rare and hard to find materials before he was allowed to sleep.
Talk about forming a permanent party never came up again, but the idea lingered at the forefront of Kerry's thoughts as they explored the second floor. Waves of Ants couldn't distract him. It was too tempting. The progress he had made in the last two days was phenomenal. Although Trent still carried the party by leading the way and clearing all serious danger himself, Kerry and Felicia made increasing contributions with every step.
It was intoxicating to Kerry. He had always been relegated to the role of stationary obstacle in prior delves. He had been a barricade for Holly and Silas to hide behind, a wall to keep Jace from being overrun. With Trent, Kerry became a damage dealer, a fighter. He was living the life he had dreamed about, and a new ambition was forming. The dream of a permanent party with Trent leading, and a life where he never had to lift a shovel again, had Kerry in its grip.
Felicia was full of denials, but Kerry thought she shared his thoughts. Why would she have brought it up otherwise? Why would she have learned the Spells she obviously hated? It was written on her face every time she gritted her teeth and threw a bolt of Fire into a swarm of insects. There was more to her reluctance to kill than she admitted.
Kerry didn't push her on it. He had his own worries, and presently, teaming up with Trent was still up in the air. However, much they might be willing, Trent had no reason to accept them beyond this delve. The student Adventures were barely pulling their own weight. Proving themselves came first, had to come first, before talk about a team could be broached.
The second floor was bigger than the first. Tunnels wound in unpredictable directions, seeming to circle back and splitting at odd intervals. Ants crawled from the ground or dropped from the ceiling without warning, and Traps frequently littered the path, slowing their exploration.
Kerry didn't mind any of it. He hummed to himself as he set his flail to
whirling. They were taking a short break while Trent gathered cave moss, and Kerry was eyeing the open cavern a few feet away, ready to get moving. The cavern should hold the second floor's Guardian. He had never been this deep into the Dungeon.
"That's the last of it," Trent announced, twirling his modified spoon while checking the notifications that his Herbalist Profession had leveled up. "Are you guys ready?"
"No," Felicia's answer came before Kerry could open his mouth. "There's one last thing we need to do. Display partial Status."
Name: Felicia Ithruen
Age: 15 Race: Human/Elven
Level: 10 Class: Mage Apprentice Level 10
Profession: None
Health: 90 Stamina: 90 Mana: 230 Strength: 11 Agility: 15 Dexterity: 16 Constitution: 9 Intelligence: 23 Wisdom: 24
Free Attribute Points: 0
It was the last thing Trent expected Felicia to do. He read over her attributes, puzzled about why she chose this moment to display her Status. He clicked his tongue over her low Constitution, and whistled to see an Intelligence rating higher than his, but he wasn't overly impressed by what he found. He turned his gaze from Felicia's Status to her face so that she could make her point.
Felicia's eyes were locked on Kerry, who was studiously avoiding eye contact.
"I've leveled up." Felicia's head bobbed and weaved as she tried to force Kerry to look at her. "You're a lower Level than me, Kerry. You must have gotten enough XP to level twice or more since we started."
"Could be." Kerry rolled his shoulders and gave his flail a casual swing. "I don't check those things very often. It's bad luck to level up in a Dungeon."
Kerry found it harder to avoid looking at both Felicia and Trent. He backed away as they closed in on him, Felicia's eyes narrowed, and Trent's mask was somehow accusatory. He looked for an escape route and found
Dreq blocking the only way out. The Dog's jaws were slightly apart as if he understood what was happening and was ready to unleash a Paralyzing Howl.
"That's crap!" Felicia spouted. "We're about to face a Boss. Unless you have a convincing reason not to, you should spend your XP before we go on!"
"How do you know I haven't?" Kerry hunched his shoulders and put the haft of his flail between himself and Felicia.
"You haven't gotten any stronger or faster than you were since you drank the potion," Trent answered for the Mage, "and you just said it was bad luck to level up in a Dungeon."
"It's the charter, isn't it?" Felicia grabbed Kerry's chin as his back hit the tunnel wall. "That's why your Attributes are so skewed."
"Don't know what you're talking about," Kerry said, jerking his head away. "There's nothing wrong with my Attributes!"
"I thought so." Felicia let the Warrior retreat, pity filling her eyes and anger flaring her nostrils. "There's a clause, right? A requirement for how you spend your Points and preventing you from talking about it? I knew Jace was a bastard, but I never thought he would go that far."
"What's this all about?" Trent had thought he was following the conversation, but Felicia's questions and Kerry's refusal to answer had him stumped.
"It's a way for Adventuring companies to control low-leveled members. Dictate how they level, and by the time they can leave, the newbie's Status is so messed up no one else will take them." Felicia missed her hat. Normally when she was angry, she would grip the brim. Her new circlet was more powerful but lacked an outlet for her to express herself when she was upset.
"In the long run, it makes the new member practically useless, unless all you need is someone to fetch materials for a company's craftsmen or to complete simple Quests for quick coin…" Her voice grew soft, and she glowered at the floor. "The Academy's instructors should have caught this. It's illegal! At least, it is in the Al'dross territory."
"Hey, let's not slander my—" Kerry offered halfheartedly. There was no clause saying he had to be enthusiastic about the defense of his party. He almost swallowed his tongue when Trent cut him off.
"Shut up!" Trent's voice was cold and harsh. His sword flickered into existence in his hand. Kerry's situation was familiar to Trent. It wasn't unlike his own start in the world.
Only, Kerry had no Michael to step in when Kirsten had gone too far. He had no Cullen to teach him, and no Orion to watch his back when enemies closed in. And Kerry's enemies were always close. They called themselves his friends. Those that should have watched out for him had failed.
A heat built in Trent's chest. Heart of the Inferno pulsated, feeding off his anger and stoking it. It was fortunate that Kerry's tormenters weren't in the Trial. There were no laws here. Had Jace stood before him, the so-called finest Warrior in the Academy would have found out that the flattery of his peers did not give him the right to interfere in people's lives.
Oddly, had the charter that controlled Kerry's actions been beneficial to the Warrior, Trent would have approved. Hadn't Trent been bound, compelled, and grown stronger for it? Didn't the Guard's Recruits learn under similar circumstances when they took their oaths? The only regret Trent had was being separated, not from his Bond, but from a man who lectured, yelled, and twisted every moment of the day into a "learning experience."
Perhaps it was a good thing that Trent's fury stole his voice. Felicia and Kerry would have thought him insane to hear what Trent objected to about Kerry's treatment.
With no way to articulate how he felt, Trent pivoted on his heel. Activating Dash and Dodge, Trent stormed into the Guardian's chamber, silent and vengeful, too quick for Felicia and Kerry to stop him. The darkness folded in around him while they watched, stunned, and Dreq howled reproachfully.
The Guardian, a Winged Silver Ant Queen, had little time to react before Trent closed in on her. Her wings fluttered, raising her off the ground and she began to speed towards Trent. Angling his blade high, Trent swept by the Ant Queen, his blade a blur as he used Long Slash to slice through paper-thin wings. Deprived of her means of flight, the Beast crashed into the floor.
Soldier Ants crawled up from holes in the ground to defend their monarch, and Trent hacked at them in passing. Each blow crushed an insect as he made his way to the downed Guardian. Sorrow fell into his free hand, and Trent fed Spiritual Flame into the soul-bound knife. The knife's edge burned white from the intensity of the Charm that Trent fed Mana to unceasingly.
The Ant Queen tried to skitter away, summoning her troops and trying to cast her Skills. Trent slashed at her, his sword cutting away two legs. The
Queen teetered and snapped with her mandibles while Trent weaved his way around her, hacking at her body. The Guardian's Defense was high. Trent's blade left gashes that looked gruesome, but no blood or ichor flowed.
Felicia and Kerry joined the fight, concentrating on the Soldier Ants and staying far away from the enraged Swordsman. Kerry's flail and shield pushed back the lesser minions, and Felicia's Spells roasted the reinforcements that kept exiting from holes in the walls. Dreq wavered between helping the duo and clinging to Trent's side, ultimately deciding his teeth were better suited to dealing with the Soldiers.
Trent noticed his companion's efforts in an absent way. He kicked the bodies of slain Ants away and continued backing the Queen into a corner. He aimed for the fragile joints of the Guardian's limbs, seeking to destroy her mobility. He fought in a blind rage, trying to dispel the knot in his chest, the fury that had overcome him.
It was the actions of the Queen that finally returned Trent's sanity. Energy built between her antennae and lashed out at him, forcing Trent to give up his assault. He threw himself to the side. The bolt of sizzling power struck his sword, nearly tearing it from his grip. Trent backpedaled a few steps from the force, grimacing at the scorch marks that marred his blade.
Seeing her foe reeling, the Ant Queen prepared another blast to finish him. Trent lunged forward, twisting as his sword slashed through an antenna, severing it. For half a second, Trent thought he had succeeded in preventing the insect's attack. Then the built-up energy detonated outwards.
Trent crossed his blades and activated Block in a futile attempt to stop the magic explosion. His Skill broke, leaving him dazed as he was flung backward, like a leaf in the wind. He maintained the presence of mind to relax his body and roll when he hit the ground. His sword returned to its ring form, and Sorrow dropped from his hand.
Trent lifted himself to one knee, his sight blurry. The Ant Queen could have tackled him with little resistance at that moment had she been able. Having had three legs, a pair of wings, and an antenna severed, the pain the Trial Beast was in left her stunned. Adding to her misery, her Spell exploding directly overhead had slammed her head to the stone.
Trent let fly with three darts, and shook his head when two missed and the third pinged off the Silver Ant's carapace without scoring it. He rose to his feet, his sword flickering back into his hand. Strife, in the form of a hatchet, was plucked from his belt, and Trent advanced on the Guardian,
more cautious this time. He circled around the Beast until he was at her rear and struck at her legs
again. The Ant tottered away, whirling to bite at him, then falling back when Trent threatened to fill her mouth with steel. Her instincts told her to fly high and unleash magic from above. The wings laying on the ground a few feet away stirred as if they sensed her intent ,though it was more likely that the motion was caused by the backlash from the Fireball Felicia cast into a group of the Queen's protectors.
Robbed of her mobility, the insect Beast might still have had a chance against Kerry or Felicia. She was a floor Guardian, blessed with regeneration Skills and power that her subjects did not have. Even crippled, she was more dangerous than anything else on the second floor.
If only Trent would realize that. There was no respect in the way he deployed Skilled slashes and hacked at the same points on her body with unerring accuracy. The rage he felt had not faded, but it no longer burned hot. A simmering anger fueled his blows, and rational thought was guiding his actions.
The Guardian turned to the side to avoid absorbing a third slash on a weakened area of her exoskeleton and lost a fourth leg for her efforts. That was the end for her. Trent pivoted and hacked to remove the last two limbs, and the Queen collapsed. Sword and axe crashed against her in a slow, relentless rhythm. The Swordsman she fought might have been replaced by a wood cutter or laborer for all she was able to resist.
When the Guardian's head rolled away, the stone ground sparked as Trent's sword struck it. He stepped back, shoulders and chest heaving. There was no sensation of victory. He felt no accomplishment or pride. His feelings were a mess of hot and cold waves.
When she was alive, the Queen's Soldier Ants had come forth in three- minute intervals. Felicia and Kerry had barely managed to keep pace with the swarm of minions. There were five left when the monarch fell. Dreq paralyzed them with a howl and Kerry bellowed, his flail cracking the armor of the helpless insects one after another.
"That's the last of them," Felicia addressed Kerry as his head swept from side to side, looking for another target. Kerry heaved a sigh of relief and allowed the chain of his flail to retract. His borrowed shield became a black iron ring once more, and he removed his helm to wipe the sweat from his face.
"I'm not sure I have enough XP to level up," Kerry said to the wall, refusing to look at any of his companions. "I can check if you two think that's for the best."
He didn't tell them that he was terrified of what the next floor would bring. He had lost a gauntlet getting to this Guardian. The armor on his legs had done its job during this fight, but his greaves had been damaged beyond repair in several places. If this continued, he would soon be fighting naked.
No one answered him, and Kerry's head hung low while he waited for judgment to fall on him. When a gloved hand pried open his clenched fist and deposited a coin in it, he looked up. Trent had removed his cowl and was staring at him.
There was no emotion, no recrimination or pity in his violet eyes or Trent's voice when he said, "Do what you have to do. That's the second gold. We have enough copper and Beast cores to make up the third, I think. You can go back and level up."
Trent passed two Return Scrolls to Felicia. Her hand shook as she took them. It had been doing that ever since she had started casting Fire Spells. Her face was white and covered with sweat, plastering her hair to her scalp. She tried to make her voice firm when she spoke, but there was a hitch in it that was hard to miss.
"Two more scrolls and a gold piece." She swallowed and gratefully took the water skin that Trent handed her. Her canteen was buried in her Storage pouch. Not the first time she thought she should find a more convenient way of carrying it.
"It's getting harder, but the rewards are still too much." Felicia took a second drink and sent a burst of Mana into the skin to refill it before passing it back to Trent. "Guardians in this Dungeon normally don't drop more than silver."
"New layout, and there are only three of us." Dreq gave a dissatisfied bark, and Kerry corrected himself. "Four, I guess. Academy rules say party of six, and one should be a Healer for the second floor Guardian. Could explain the loot."
No one said it didn't, though the thought hung heavily between them. "I'm going to finish Harvesting." Trent pulled his cowl back up. "I can
give you your shares when I'm done. You should both use those Scrolls." "What about you?" Felicia asked. She wanted to grab Trent's shoulder as
he bent down and began slicing at an Ant's corpse. Her hand twitched and
remained at her side, letting Trent work uninterrupted. "You're going on? Why?"
"You ask that a lot." Trent had to use Appraisal on the Sliver Winged Queen, but the Soldier Ants were just bigger versions of the insects they had fought before. The Harvesting went smoothly; Trent's knife never paused as he spoke. "Kerry came for gold, you came for materials. You both have what you need. I want to clear the Trial. I haven't done that yet."
"By yourself?" It was a stupid question that Felicia regretted immediately. She was here because she expected a violet-eyed Al'rashian to be capable of going deeper into the Dungeon than any Academy student up till then. Trent had met her expectations and exceeded them. She was glad when he didn't answer her.
Felicia jumped when Kerry took one of the Return Scrolls from her hand. She had forgotten she was holding them, forgotten Kerry was standing next to her. It unsettled her the way the chant to the hated Firebolt Spell tried to force its way to her lips in her surprise.
"I'm going to keep going, if that's alright with you." Kerry tucked the scroll into his satchel. "When I think I'm holding you back, or it's getting too dangerous, I'll use a sScroll."
He moved towards the entrance to the next floor and peered into it. It was an empty gesture, performed more to avoid an awkward silence. Felicia followed him and joined him in staring down the long tunnel.
"Why?" She whispered, "You could die, Kerry. Six for the second floor, eight for the third. You know he's going to face the Guardian."
"Why?" Kerry grinned at her. "He's right; you do ask that a lot. I'm going for the same reason you are." He tapped a finger against the scroll she still held. "You should tuck that into your robe instead of your pouch. Just in case."
"The same reason? What makes you think I'm going with you two?" "Three," Kerry corrected. "The Dog is like his owner, more than he
appears. We have to count him too. You didn't come here for insect legs." Kerry turned to face Felicia, and it was her turn to avoid his eyes. "Or, you didn't stay to pay him back for the insect legs, anyway. There's a chance here, Felicia, to be real Adventurers and not…"
"Soft metal, Dungeon Farmers," She finished for him, as Kerry waved his hand looking for the right word. "You think that's what the Academy is making us?"
"I think," Kerry wiped the corner of his mouth with his knuckles, "I didn't think that before. I don't know what I think now. Maybe all Adventurers end up soft metal eventually. I know the lessons Trent has been hammering me with and what the instructors tell us are different. Some of it sounds the same, but it's not."
"I don't mind being soft metal. I like crafting. I come to the Dungeon because that is where the materials are." It was something she told herself often. Before, it had been true.
"Then use the Scroll. Go back. Knit scarves, make wands and hats. You'll miss the first day of the term if you don't leave soon. No one will think less of you." He tapped the Scroll again. "Use it or keep it close. I'm going to go see if Trent needs any help. And when he says he doesn't, I'm going to eat."
It didn't take long for Trent to finish cleaning up the Ants. Kerry cleaned up the drops with Dreq, muttering about food and how you couldn't depend on people to do what you expected of them. Felicia stared towards the third floor, thinking about her family and Al'rashians.
She wondered when Trent had stopped being a dangerous tool to be handled carefully and started being… it was hard to call the Swordsman a friend. There was still so much she didn't know about him. So why did she want to trust him? Why was she thinking that the third floor with Trent and Kerry was better than knitting scarves in her room?
She did ask why too often. She smoothed the crinkled Scroll in her hand and placed it in an inner pocket of her robe. Trent didn't say anything as he led the group forward. Felicia fell in beside Kerry, slapping his arm when he tried to elbow her side. It was anticipation that brought color to her cheeks and not the anger Kerry imagined, as he fell back a pace to keep away from swatting hands.
It was excitement, because she had never seen the third floor and wouldn't be allowed to until two or three more terms according to Academy policy. And she would be seeing it in a way no one ever had before. A new floor, a new configuration, new dangers and challenges ,and none of the school's safety nets. It was going to be thrilling!