Prepping the Run (10)
Dungeons under the influence of Tariki, the Evil God of Darkness, were a breed I knew better than anyone.
It wasn't because the base version of Soul Academy was packed with his dungeons. Tariki was an endgame entity — something you only glimpsed in the final stretch of the game. How many dungeons related to a late-game boss could there possibly be?
So why, then, was I so intimately familiar with his dungeons?
Because roughly forty percent of all user-made mod dungeons featured the bastard in some capacity.
As I mentioned before, the defining trait of Tariki-crafted dungeons was simple: 'If you don't know, you die.'
There was no better mechanic for screwing over first-time clearers, which is exactly why Tariki's dungeons were so beloved by troll creators.
Not every mod maker was like this, but there undeniably existed a certain breed of people who delighted in watching others smash their keyboards and spew profanity.
People who couldn't care less whether the game was fun.
People who never gave a passing thought to their own originality.
People who never considered the sense of accomplishment a dungeon-clearer might feel.
All they wanted was to churn out something arbitrarily difficult and obnoxious, then snicker to themselves as players who installed the mod vented their rage.
Mods like these were built by throwing out every foundational element of good design, so they proliferated fast — all of them sitting there like fish bait, just waiting for someone to bite.
And I, a hardened veteran of Soul Academy and an addict for any new content, was the most passionate fish in the pond, charging in to swallow the hook every single time.
No, seriously, I literally could not help it!
Every time a mod coughed up nothing but garbage loot, I could've sworn off those disgusting bastards for good and washed my hands of the whole thing — but then, like clockwork, a mod would drop that genuinely drew admiration out of me, torturing me with hope!
How was I supposed to give up on a challenge like that?
If hope lies waiting at the end of mountains of misery, then of course you push through the misery!
Well. The kids making troll mods probably didn't like me much either.
The people they loved were the ones who'd try a mod casually, rage-quit with a string of curses, and storm off — the real degenerates who'd wallow in bliss when someone posted on the forums praising their mod as "an absolute dumpster fire of a game."
But I was a different animal from those people.
Unless a mod was outright unwinnable by design, I would clear it by any means necessary, then leave behind both a complete walkthrough and a scathing review.
"You lack creativity," or "You stole that gimmick from another mod," or "You can't even make a cheap troll mod properly, you hack."
My reviews were so vicious that mod creators would occasionally track me down just to scream at me. Those were the good days.
Nothing beat replying with something like 'If it were me, I'd have done it this way, this way, and this way. Tsk tsk. Your creativity speaks for itself.' and watching them completely lose their minds. Peak entertainment.
Ahh, well. All of that was from less than two years after Soul Academy launched. As the game's popularity waned, modders — both the good ones and the trolls — steadily dwindled.
Toward the end, whenever any mod dropped, I had to bow and give thanks just for its existence.
It wasn't for nothing that I downloaded the Mesugaki mod the moment I laid eyes on it! User mods themselves were rare back then!
And come to think of it, I wasn't even careless! I checked the ratings and reviews like a responsible user before downloading, and then I got possessed out of nowhere!
What the hell is this?!
Why me?!
Why meeeEEE?!
...Anyway, getting back on track — having cleared hundreds of Tariki-related dungeons, I knew exactly how to deal with the whole 'if you don't know, you die' problem.
If you die from not knowing, then you don't die from knowing, right?
So simply put: memorize every variable Tariki's power could possibly produce, prepare for all of them, and you'll handle anything he throws at you.
'You two will both follow quietly behind me, 'kay?'
"You two noobs would just get in the way if you tried anything. So be good little children and stay behind me."
Once I'd realized that Tariki had seized control of this dungeon, the very first thing I told Carl and Luka was a flat order to do nothing.
Those two could act with the purest of intentions, and all it would accomplish was injecting fresh variables into the dungeon and giving me a headache.
Better for them to tag along doing nothing and serve as meat shields when we ran into something dangerous.
"I cannot do that, my lady!"
At my words, Luka obediently nodded, but Carl did not.
Taking point, he argued, meant being the first to face danger. He raised his voice, declaring that he could never assign such a role to his precious lady.
His devotion — vowing to lay down his life for me without a second thought — was touching enough to draw a hollow laugh, but right now it was nothing but an obstacle.
I have no idea what variables have taken root in this dungeon.
Which means I can't issue predictive commands in advance like I did in other dungeons.
By the time I observe, judge, and relay an order, it'll already be too late to respond. How exactly am I supposed to put this guy at the front?
And another thing.
There's something you're supposed to be doing for me, isn't there?
What has the face-obsessed fox been doing all this time? She went over to Carl and came back, so she definitely relayed my message to him. So why is Carl still pulling this?
'Tis a girl, I see.
Just as I was furrowing my brow at Carl, who kept shaking his head no matter how much I told him he was in the way, Gramps spoke up.
'Lady Rina says she did indeed deliver the message.'
'Then why is he still doing this?'
'Consider how he normally presents himself. If he simply complied without protest, Luka would find it strange. So he clings thus.'
'Sooo you're telling me this whole display is an act?'
Kneeling before a girl, whimpering and begging her to reconsider?
That looks about a hundred percent genuine to me?
'A harsh refusal would suffice.'
'Fine, got it.'
I don't fully get it, but I just need to curse him out like I'm furious, right? Easy enough.
"Why do I talk and talk and you just can't understand?♡ Is it because you're not human, just a beast?♡ Should I say 'woof' for it to sink in?♡"
"That is not it, my lady!"
"Hmm, no. Even a dog understands 'sit' and 'stay,' but you can't manage that?♡ So you're trash below a beast♡ And THIS is my knight?♡"
"I apologize! However—"
"Shut it♡ Why is a beast speaking human words?♡ If you're a beast, then act like one — crawl on the floor and bark♡ You useless noob dog♡"
"...Woof!"
Watching Carl hesitate before barking like an actual dog, a single suspicion sprouted in my mind.
Is he really clinging to me to throw Luka off the scent? Or is he just using that as an excuse because he wants to be verbally abused?
Anyone else and this thought wouldn't even cross my mind — but this is Carl we're talking about.
Considering the sheer degeneracy of that creature, it's a perfectly reasonable suspicion. Unfortunately, I can't read minds.
So I'll leave it as a suspicion and move on. Pressing the point would only sour my mood for nothing.
Having successfully stripped Carl of his speaking privileges by demoting his entire reason for existence from human to beast, I posted the two of them behind me and stepped out of the boss room.
Just as the noob Chief God had explained in the quest, the dungeon corrupted by Tariki was flooded with blackness in every direction.
I pushed that darkness aside with the light of Ankir and moved forward, step by careful step.
The first thing I could confirm: just as in the game, the traps vanished as each trial was cleared.
And second: even though darkness had consumed the dungeon, the layout of its paths remained unchanged.
That was unquestionably good news. It meant I could use the shortcuts that unlocked after clearing each trial.
And then.
My danger sense flared, and I stopped thinking, spreading my awareness through the surroundings.
My five senses, honed razor-sharp by years of training that bordered on abuse, caught a faint thread of mana.
Mana moving at its own pace, all alone in the silent dark.
Ting! Before the habit of raising my shield even finished registering, an arrow slammed into it and ricocheted away.
The flicker of evil-god energy clinging to the shattered arrowhead made one thing certain: it carried a curse.
I steadied my mace and stepped forward, and the darkness receded, revealing my opponent.
The things that had blocked our path through the maze — the puppets the great archmage Karon had crafted in imitation of knights — were now shackled to the darkness and moving of their own accord.
Skeletons at the core.
Loadout: one archer, two spearmen, and one sword-and-shield.
Their movements were similar to what I'd seen them perform around the maze, yet oddly clumsy now.
Hmm. Hard to say without testing it. Guess I'll have to hit them and find out?
'Just watch.'
"Noobs. Stay back and spectate."
Issuing orders to Carl and Luka as I sketched out the rough shape of the fight in my head, I started moving the moment I saw the skeleton archer draw its bowstring.
After all the agonizing training I'd endured, my physical abilities had long since soared far beyond the realm of ordinary humans.
Which meant a distance that would normally take twenty steps could be closed in just two.
Perhaps startled by how our gap vanished in an instant, the shield-bearing skeleton frantically raised its arm.
Too slow.
I drove forward, the momentum of my charge behind my shield, and caved in the skeleton's skull.
A swing of the mace finished one spearman before he could even raise his weapon.
I slipped my head aside to let an arrow meant for my face sail past, cut it down at the throat, then hooked the archer's jaw with my mace to finish him off.
Finally, I raised my shield's edge toward the last remaining skeleton's head—
—and held back the strike, stepping away instead.
Before long, the very skeleton I'd been about to destroy burst apart, spraying concentrated essence of darkness in every direction.
The energy sustaining those four skeletons had gathered into one and detonated.
The concentrated essence lingered in place like a fog, but only for a moment.
It was, after all, unclean power. Before the light of Ankir, it had no choice but to retreat.
Mmm. So that's all it amounts to. My guess was right.
Those skeletons are weaker than when I first came here to clear the trials.
The reason for the weakening is easy to deduce.
What had animated those skeletons all this time was the mana Karon left behind — and with the trials concluded, that mana had dissipated entirely.
So what drives the skeletons now can only be the evil god's energy, pure and simple.
But the Evil God of Darkness is still a long way from his resurrection, so even with the dungeon in his grasp, he can't threaten me the way he would at full strength.
Put simply: setting aside the traits unique to the Evil God of Darkness, this dungeon is a hollowed-out shell of what it used to be.
Tariki simply lacks the power to fully control the magic woven into those skeletons.
And even that supposedly dangerous trait of his is laughable from where I stand.
Part of it is Ankir sitting in my hand, but honestly? Tariki is just a complete and utter pushover right now.
See, I'm someone who cleared dungeons built around that bastard at full power.
Did you really think I'd fall for traps made with a sliver of power this pathetic?
'At this rate, breaking through will be simple enough.'
I nodded at Gramps's assessment — he'd fought Tariki back in the day.
He was right; the breakthrough itself wouldn't be difficult.
But escaping the dungeon was an entirely different story.
Think about it. If Tariki has seized control of the skeletons in this dungeon...
then the skeleton waiting at the very end — wouldn't that still be the same guardian that always stood at the end?