A Deal with the Immortal (1)
Drip.
The sound of a falling water droplet reached him.
Almost no light penetrated the stairwell beyond.
Step. Step.
In that darkness, a single bright glow appeared. The surrounding blackness was so complete that even the light could not spread far; it was all it could do to illuminate the area immediately around its bearer.
"Huff… huff…"
An odd, filtered breathing sound came from Ellen as he descended the stairs—the sound of air being strained before it reached his lungs.
These purification suits really are a pain to breathe in.
Ellen was wearing a full-body purification suit and mask he had taken from the Bordan Trading Company.
This second dungeon Hameron had conquered bore the name Harryford Dungeon. But the name by which it was far better known was the Sewer—and true to that name, a stench no ordinary person could endure rolled through the air in thick waves. Without the mask, Ellen would already have fled back outside.
Relying on the glow of his Light spell, he carefully continued down the stairs.
"Grrraaah."
A roar rose from somewhere below. The first floor could not be far now.
Tap.
As expected, it was not long before a vast cavern opened before him—and it was swarming with ghouls.
Hameron's autobiography had included a description of Harryford Dungeon. Ellen knew its layout, its features, and every monster that appeared within it.
"Krrk."
The ghouls in the cavern looked as if they were practically drooling at the sight of fresh meat after so long. Ellen found the sight reassuring. The dungeon's structure and the monsters' behavior matched the book's account so perfectly that the tactics he had prepared in advance would not go to waste. If the description had been wrong, he would have been in real trouble.
Better to finish them in one go and save my mana. Dig.
A massive pit yawned open beneath the ghouls' feet—far too large for a mere 1st Circle Dig. Ellen had stacked the spell four times over with his Chantless Casting.
"Grrraaaaah!"
Ghouls, as low-grade undead, were a nuisance that would keep regenerating unless they were burned completely to ash. Beyond that regeneration, they had no real advantages—even their movements were sluggishly slow—and so they tumbled helplessly into the pit Ellen had created.
Anyone looking into that hole might have gagged. So many ghouls had been packed into one place that they were trampling one another in their desperate scramble to climb free.
Even I can't stand looking at that. Fireball.
Ellen hurled two Fireballs into the pit.
Whoosh!
"Kreeee!"
The Fireball that struck one of them spread in an instant to the others. Yet the ghouls seemed not even to notice that their own bodies were burning; they simply thrashed and clawed, still trying to climb out.
Truly revolting.
The stench of burning corpses joined the already foul air. Even the purification function of his mask seemed to have been overwhelmed; the reek was creeping up into his nose. Ellen hurried out of the cavern. On the far side, stairs led down to the next floor.
Zombies on the next level, was it?
They were undead monsters a step above ghouls—not dramatically different, only stronger in physical ability. Ellen figured he could handle zombies just as easily with Dig and Fireball, and started down.
"Krrrk!"
The next floor matched the book's description as well. Ellen cleared it the same way he had the last.
The standard approach to conquering a dungeon was to advance with extreme caution. No one could know what dangers lay in wait—and in his previous life, Ellen had failed to stop Leonard from being reckless, with disastrous results.
But this time, I have perfect information.
He knew every trap and every monster in the dungeon. There was no reason to waste time. Secure in that knowledge, Ellen began taking the stairs two at a time, cutting through floor after floor at a blistering pace.
Fsssh.
As he set foot on the stairs to the next level, he suddenly stopped. The steps were corroded.
Almost there, then.
Ellen pulled on the full-body purification suit he had brought along with the mask. Until now he had left it off because it restricted his movement—but from this point on, the environment would be entirely different.
In truth, the real danger of Harryford Dungeon was not its monsters. This place was little more than a nest of low-grade undead. A few mid-grade undead were mixed in, but compared to other dungeons the difficulty was far lower. What made this dungeon so hazardous was the fog waiting on the floors ahead—a lethal toxic mist that killed any living creature the moment it touched the skin.
When Hameron had come to conquer this dungeon, every one of the royal attendants who accompanied him had fallen to that poison. He alone had survived, thanks to recovery magic and poison-resistance spells—but the toxin had been so vicious that it killed the others before he could even begin to help them. There had been mages among the royal party, yet none of them had enough mana to maintain both high-level poison resistance and recovery magic at the same time.
Still uncomfortable. Time to activate the magic circle one last time.
Of course, that toxic mist had only been truly fatal thirty years ago. After the incident, Hameron had independently developed a poison-resistance spell of his own—far stronger than existing resistance magic, and far more mana-efficient. Even a 3rd Circle mage like Ellen could cast it without difficulty.
Hummm.
Ellen activated the magic circle he had engraved in advance. He could have cast the spell directly onto his own body, of course—but drawing a circle onto a medium made it far more efficient. It was an old habit: conserve mana at every opportunity, no matter the situation.
All right. Let's go.
Confirming that the magic had taken hold, Ellen descended to the next floor. Protective magic or not, this was a place filled with deadly poison. Unlike before, his steps grew cautious.
Ssssss.
The deeper he went, the thicker the toxic fog became. From this point on, no monsters appeared at all. Even undead would not have lasted long in toxicity this severe.
Ellen pressed forward, feeling as though the mist were pressing down on his body. Before long it grew so dense that he had to wave his hands ahead of him just to keep walking.
How much farther do I have to go?
Re-engraving the magic circle at intervals as he went, he finally spotted a great door at the bottom of the stairs.
Finally. A little longer and I might have gone mad.
Groping for direction through that green fog had been more nightmarish than he had expected.
Creeeak.
When he set his hand on the door, it opened with surprising ease.
A lightening enchantment, maybe?
Even more astonishing was that the toxic fog blanketing everything outside did not enter the chamber at all—as if stopped by an invisible glass wall.
A barrier spell as well. Just as the book said—incredible.
Ellen knew who the master of this dungeon was. The thought of him tightened every muscle in his body.
"So you made it all the way here. You saw that poison fog and still insisted on crawling this far?"
A voice like steel scraping against steel suddenly cut through the air.
At last. There you are.