The Warden's Crypt (2)
From a side tunnel to our right, positioned in the front near Aswalo, about a dozen skeletal figures emerged, armor hanging in broken plates from decayed leather.
Their movements were jerky yet purposeful, empty sockets lit with faint pinpricks of a cold blue light.
Aswalo was the first to respond, his shield flaring instantly. "Heads up!"
He planted his boots, stance widening, and intercepted their charge with a roar—the first skeleton hit his shield with a rattling crunch and shattered in a spray of bone. "Aim for their center mass, it stops all movement!"
Ignis was the next to move.
Flames bloomed around his sword as he stepped slightly beyond Aswalo's shoulder in order to meet two rushing skeletons.
His blade cut down in a clean arc, separating one from its hips and cleaving the other's torso in two.
At the same time, arrows whistled from the backline, piercing a few heads, though they didn't do much other than cause a brief stagger, but in tandem with the flowing silver liquid forming the occasional wall and sweeping others off of their feet, it was more than enough for everyone to capitalize on.
I stepped in between them, sensing an opportunity as my sword slid free from its scabbard.
After a few skeletons cleared up, opening a wide path, I gave a mental nod of confirmation to the eager Seraphina, who instantly darted past us as a streak of black and silver.
Her sharp fangs seemed to catch the light ever so faintly as they ripped and tore apart the exposed bones, joints and necks collapsing as easily as wood.
…Maybe that wasn't the best comparison. Wood's too tough, a dry reed sounds more accurate.
One of them raised a rusted scimitar at her, but missed narrowly, her form seeming to almost flicker, and its figure eventually crumbled underneath her bite.
My sword plunged into the skulls of the ones who she made fall, extinguishing the haunting light in their eyes. Like this, we worked together.
Ever since she "learned" that transformation technique, or ability—whatever it was—I had allowed her to participate in our fights.
But that wasn't an easy decision, even now I still had my doubts, but she, alongside my most beloved team members, pushed for her case, and so I reluctantly agreed.
There was still the risk of her getting hurt, so there were limits. Only if I deemed it to be safe and necessary. Otherwise, she was on overwatch duty.
In total, our battle lasted another minute or so before it began to die down, and the lingering skeletons were reduced to scattered remains, their brittle bones crunching underfoot as we regrouped.
Aswalo set his shield into the ground, looking over everyone all at once.
"Everyone alright? No wounds?" He received a series of confirmations.
"Far too simple for a B-minus-ranked quest," Ignis muttered, moving to place his longsword in its scabbard.
"At this rate, things won't be an issue at all—" Movement erupted from the left, and a skeleton missing the lower half of its body lunged.
Aswalo met it with a shield bash that sent it clattering against the nearby wall, snapping like brittle twigs.
Romei stepped forward, sighing.
"Is this going to be a common occurrence with you? Rule number one in dungeon raiding: you don't comment on the difficulty of the dungeon… Or anything in life, really, it's a bad omen!"
Ignis didn't seem to notice, however, and was looking over at Evrenn, who was poised as usual.
"And what of you? For someone with such a big mouth, I was hoping to see your skills in action, yet you didn't lift a single finger."
Evrenn merely glanced at him with a disinterested glint in his eyes.
"By the Erus Fauna, you commonfolk are as dumb as you look. Why should I—the single most important member of this… ensemble—waste my precious mana on foot soldiers that couldn't threaten me even in my deepest of slumbers? I have you lot for that."
Ignis' eyes narrowed, unflinchingly.
"I know the sound of a scared boy when I hear one. Perhaps you aren't worth as much as you think."
"Scared?" He scoffed, looking genuinely offended.
"You think I, of all people, cower in fear? Fine, I'll show you—all of you. Since you're begging for my help, why not? It could be an amusing warm up, I suppose, and it also lets me show you the difference in skill between a refined mage such as myself and you lot!"
Grabbing his staff, he started marching off ahead of us, muttering under his breath.
"Prove my worth? How dare I hear those same words out of the mouth of a commoner, of all people…"
"Evrenn, hold on!" Aswalo called, but to no avail. After a brief glance at the group, we all nodded and decided to continue further into the crypt. It didn't take us long to catch up to him.
By the time we had, more scraping noises echoed throughout the small chamber, various sidetunnels misleading you for concentrating on them.
It was a rather irritating, screeching sound, akin to how one might feel when nails are dragged across a blackboard.
"Everyone, formation!" The shouted command set us all into motion… save for one of us.
"Evrenn! Come back, that's dangerous!"
He walked forward, shrugging off Romei's worries and gripping his staff so hard his knuckles went white.
"Quiet, Woman! Don't you dare order me around!"
Soon, waves of boney, white figures spilled into the chamber from various sidetunnels, surrounding us completely.
A few of them looked even more worse for wear—if that was somehow possible—arms snapped in vital areas, hanging low and causing them to drag their swords on the ground—the cacophony of that amounted to the terrible ringing in our ears.
There must've been at least double the amount from last time.
…Yet Evrenn still walked forward, casting a ribbon of fire above himself that caught the attention of the majority of them.
Oddly enough, it felt like there was more to it, beyond just the vector that drew them in, but rather in response to something more primal. The exact feeling was hard to pinpoint, but it was evil. Cunning, almost to a fault.
A wicked sense of intelligence and understanding that surely lingered within the furthest reaches of their minds, inherent to all predators—as well as a shared understanding.
To them, Evrenn was nothing more than isolated prey. And so, they moved.
Like a mindless horde, they surged forward so fast they stumbled over each other.
The ones by us nearly wrenched their necks free to fixate on him before trailing off, decayed limbs dangling from half-torn sockets like broken marionette strings.
All in all, it was a terrifying sight. Dozens upon dozens of rusted, boney-figures rushing at the lone Evrenn who merely stood still amongst the chaos, his silhouette brightly outlined by the flames burning at his side. His back was towards us, so I couldn't see his expression, nor could I begin to fathom what it might be.
…But there was something else that caught my attention.
"Shouldn't we go help him? Why are we just standing here?"
I asked, looking primarily towards Aswalo—who seemed to have no intention of moving.
As much of an ass that he is, it would weigh on my conscience to know he died and that I didn't help him…!
He merely sighed, returning a non-urgent look back at me. "That guy… He'll be fine. Just don't stand too close."
"...What?"
"—Phoenix Burst!"
A sheet of searing heat tore through the chamber, tearing through empty ribcages and brittle skulls alike, and leaving nothing but their charred remains to mix with the stone floor.
It rolled over us a heartbeat later, the afterflame dry and hot enough that my eyes stung, and my lungs protested against my next few breaths.
It tasted of iron and old dust; I threw up an arm on instinct, feeling my loose braids of hair undulate.
Similar reactions emitted from my group.
Where the mass of figures had been before, there was but blackened smears across the stone, and the residual hiss of something cooling.
…And standing alone amongst that chaos, having triumphed over those who sought after his life, was Evrenn, looking as arrogant and uninterested as always.
As we approached, he looked at us—particularly Ignis—while smirking triumphantly.
"Well? What say you now, muppet?"
"Hm…"
"Too astonished to say anything, I see. Or maybe, your monkey brain doesn't have enough vocabulary words to describe your amazement. Fear not, as that tends to happen quite frequently with one such as I. You may rejoice in my presence, as this is the skill difference between us. You're swinging that unfurbished tool around with kitchen flames, while I am the pinnacle of magic itself."
He broke into a short chuckle.
"What is this sensation…? I feel delighted. Getting rid of those eyesores seems to have helped relieve me of some stress. I think I'll continue to do so. None of it will even put a dent in my mana reserves, after all."
Aswalo stepped forward, expression serious. "Hey, Evrenn. Don't you dare do such a thing like that again. Regardless of whether or not you think you're capable of dealing with those things, you're a member of my team, meaning I'm the one responsible for you."
…Wait, this guy has a different dialect than everyone else here? He hides it well.
The pompous boy met his gaze with the same amused smirk. "Sure, sure," he said, brushing him off.
"Now, when do we continue to the next floor? I'm itching to exterminate some pests."
Our leader held his serious demeanor for a few beats longer before Romei came and placed her hands against his back.
"Hey, it's okay. Don't let it bother you too much. Yes, it's frustrating, but we knew what we were getting into by recruiting him. Remember, he's someone who can't be reigned in—it's best to let him do what he does and try to fight around him, not with him."
His eyes met hers for a sustained note, thoughts and emotions being silently conveyed through that look.
More heartbeats went by before he settled, shrugging his shoulders and letting out a sigh.
"...We still have a job to finish. If everyone's all good, then let's continue. At this rate, it shouldn't be much longer 'till the boss arena."
I nodded, and we began shuffling further into this crypt.
***
We met another few staircases, each of them becoming steeper than the last, hugging the natural rock more and more.
The torches continued to light themselves ahead of us, and the air notably began to change.
It was more stale, with the scent of age, dust, and the faint trace of something like an old incense that burned for too long permeated every inch.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.
Soon, we found ourselves in a rhythm—there were long stretches of silence periodically interrupted by short bursts of combat.
The skeletal guardians continued emerging from various side tunnels whenever we reached a new chamber, only to be met with the same fate. In total, we'd probably spent somewhere close to three hours down here already. Just walking, for the most part.
Except, there was something strange about it.
Not once—for even a second—did the difficulty ever spike, unlike what I would've expected. Typically in games or stories, the closer you get to the boss, the harder things become. The same could be said for dungeons in Ethos.
Enemies grew higher in levels, sometimes accompanied by even more foot soldiers, or maybe the labyrinth would get more complicated, the path becoming narrow, traps being sprung, things of that nature.
Nothing of that sort happened, though. Everything was as easy and straightforward as earlier, so much so to the point that Aswalo stopped asking if we were alright after the fight, wearing a confused look himself.
If anything, the most noticeable change was Evrenn's demeanor and arrogance…
Pulling my sword out of the hollowed skull of the skeleton at my foot, I redirected my attention to the front, landing on Ignis and Evrenn.
The noble boy wore a satisfied smirk on his face, his eyes scanning over the numerous piles of ash, a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead.
I turned to Aswalo, who had just finished retrieving his own weapon from a divot in the ground.
"Something feels off about these waves. Everything feels too easy, I guess. It doesn't sit right with me. Is this how it usually is?"
Evrenn haughtily stepped forward before he could answer.
"Ha," he began, resting his staff on his shoulder as if he just finished taking a stroll rather than fighting unholy creatures spawning from mysterious depths, "The life of a commoner. I suppose that's just how it is for you all, though, having everything handed to you on a silver platter. The first dungeon in your entire lackluster career, and you have me to help you through it. Try buying a fortune ticket."
"You talk like your title swings a sword for you," I countered, feeling some annoyance flare.
"It might as well. Some of us actually have standards," he snorted.
I met his gaze for a tense moment, ready to spit something back, but eventually deciding against it and looking away.
This guy lives for the reactions he gets. No point in even speaking to him—he'll just irk me to no end!
As if to further prove my point, his sneer grew wider as he leaned forward.
"...Attaboy."
I felt a vein bulge as I stopped in my tracks. This guy… He really has a death wish. Maybe I should help him wi—
"That's enough. We're not here to argue pedigrees."
Romei stepped in at that moment, looking rather annoyed herself.
"Let's keep moving. We still don't know how long until the final room, so start saving your mana, Evrenn. Putting on a show this early is bound to backfire later, if it hasn't already. There's also the issue of oxygen. As for the waves, I can't say—on rare occasions the enemies stay weak, but that usually means they're saving something big for us later. All we can do is keep pushing."
Putting that small confrontation in the back of my thoughts, we did just that, and continued our descent. The rest was unnoteworthy.
…But after three more chambers, we finally reached a grand expanse—a room vastly different from the others.
The air was almost palpable now, pressing in from every direction, cold and unforgiving, despite the torches lining the walls. It was in every way different from just temperature, rather it was heavy and eerily foreboding, like we had just delved into the depths of someplace no man was ever meant to reach.
We came up short before a pair of massive double doors, tall enough to reach the ceiling, and wide enough to encompass Evrenn's self-inflated ego.
…Actually, maybe not that wide. But still very much so.
The carvings on the steel doors had been worn down by time, but some things could be perceived if you squinted enough.
Knights. Blades pointed downwards. Kneeling figures. Heads being bowed… all before a central figure writhed in darkness itself.
Runic spire ran along the outlines of the door. I reached for my depth of knowledge, hoping to translate them, but to no avail.
Save for one detached piece of line: 'Glory to the Warden.'
Everything else was simply too rusted or ancient for me to properly read.
My eyes were telling me it was runic spire, but the translations eluded me; like trying to read a more informal, or specific type of runic spire, something more localized. Perhaps even more ancient…
"What a decorative door," Evrenn mocked, looking unimpressed. "Can we walk in now, or are we just going to collectively gawk like an emus seeing a raven fly for the first time? Tell me now so I can decide whether or not I clear it without you."
…This guy.
That seemed to break the trance, though, and we all unfurled from our clump.
"This looks like the final room. Then, I guess I'll be asking this for the last time, but is everyone prepared to move on?" Aswalo set his sword and shield down, seeming to readjust his bracers.
There was a split moment in which the party shared looks and checked equipment.
Ignis and I moved to where Caelora was, and I shared my findings in a convo that didn't last long. They both shot me strange looks before we quickly assumed our positions again.
Romei brought attention to herself, looking a bit more cheerful than she had this entire journey.
"All right people. Let's finish this out and go home. I'm not one for celebrating early, so this is all you'll get from me, but… Good luck out there. We'll get through it—no matter what. Just have each other's backs."
With that, Aswalo was the first to move, reaching an arm towards the doors.
A loud mechanical noise ensued, followed by the groaning of the steel doors that seemed to shake the foundation of the chamber—wherever it was—loud enough to make me wince.
Dust tumbled from their edges in soft cascades as they shuddered, slowly but surely parting for us.
We began to walk forward as a unit.
Gentle light spilled out to meet us, not particularly warm or cold, but enough to see what beheld us, tinged by the blue hues of the torches which seemed omnipresent in this dungeon.
The corridor gave way to a circular hall carved with far greater care and precision than the rough-hewn passages above, with an arched ceiling overhead so tall it disappeared into the shadows, supported by thick, ornate pillars bearing similar runes and figures to the ones before.
Lining the walls in a (near) full 360-degree motion were statues.
Of course, not just any. They were knights. Donning full plates of armor, carved from what appeared to be stone in a similar color to ash, with their faces all hidden beneath thick visors.
In total, roughly thirty spanned across the entire left wall, and lined the entire right—equaling to sixty figures—all in different poses. Some kneeling or bowing, others standing upright.
Even further ahead, at the far end of the room, stood a larger statue raised on a dais.
It was unhelmed, unlike the rest, its stone face bearing an unsettling smile. A sharp crown rested upon its head, noticeably more detailed than the rest of the statues.
"Creepy…" Romei whispered.
"Also efficient," countered Aswalo. "Good sight lines, plenty of space. A vast improvement over the passages above. I can finally swing my sword with ease."
"I guess," she continued. "I dunno how I feel about weird statues watching me though…"
As we neared the center of the room, something suddenly clicked, the very moment the last of us crossed over.
Lines of pale light blazed to life beneath our feet—runes etched into the stone that were previously invisible were now glowing with a ghostly azure color.
The designs whorled outwards in a sigil-like circle, surrounding us, and linking to each individual statue. A loud, mechanical sound ensued, sounding almost as if restraints were being unloosened.
"Nobody move!" Aswalo ordered, and we all naturally formed a close circle, hushed in together.
The glow began to steady as I studied them, looking just past the members of my group for extra information that I could use to piece together in order to make sense of it.
Panic began to rise in my throat, but I calmed myself, recalling all of my training.
Condition… Subjects… Initiate…? I'm missing something—but what?
My neck swiveled for more runes, tracing every line of the script, picking apart the faint anchor points—pushing the rush of my companions' worries and panicked words against the backdrop of my mind.
Has to be somewhere, but where… There!
…So that's what this is. Damn it… I can't read everything, but I get the gist of it.
"These runes… They're binding channels," I called out, raising my voice over someone's foul string of words.
"The statues are placed as focal nodes… No, they're specifically designated as focal nodes in the array. Meaning someone, or something, built this room—this system—around them."
Aswalo shot me an incredulous look, his words beginning to trail off. "How can you…? Nevermind. What does that mean?—What do we do?" He asked.
"It means that those statues aren't just watching us… They're waiting for a condition to be met."
"Hah. Really?" Evrenn forced an incredulous laugh. "You mean that you—the most mediocre of us all—can somehow read this? What a joke to get all panicky over. I bet they're just decorative. If something was going to happen, it woul—"
"Near the central statue—everyone take a look!" Caelora interrupted, pointing.
We all followed her line of sight to a knight to the left of the King.
It looked almost identical to the others, though, nothing was amiss at first glance.
…Until I truly let my focus settle. The rune-leading line at its base was thicker, more prominent than the rest. Even the stone around its joints were uneven, almost as if something had expanded within.
"Huh? I don't see anythi—"
A crack spread across its shoulder, reaching its chest. Almost like a heartbeat it pulsed again, widening it with the sound of bone being pulled apart.
Collectively, we stepped back.
The fracture line began to pulse, slowly at first, then quicker, leaving dust and stone in its wake as the fracture spread in jagged patterns across its limbs and chest.
More chunks crashed against the ground, falling in slow, heavy pieces that broke against the rune-lit floor.
The only thing more harrowing than that, however, was the fact that beneath the stone was not empty space.
And that the sound soon began to spread across the room equally.
***