Scorching the Necromancer
Perhaps due to their fragile resolve, even plastered head to toe in magitechwear, they were still getting pushed back.
Allen approached with heavy thuds of his boots, hoisted his staff overhead, and smashed the wolf automaton's head like he was swinging a golf club.
The automaton's body stiffened for a moment, and Kiki—finally freed—leaped onto its back, stabbing away furiously with her awl. Though Allen called it an awl, it was really more like a spear blade.
The battle dragged on into a grueling slog. Once the EBI mana packs ran dry, even the spellcasters grabbed their weapons and charged in.
Every explorer had their specialized role, but that didn't mean they were hopeless in other areas. Of course, it wasn't their forte, so wounds started piling up fast.
At the center of the chaos, Allen recalled the leopard. It was about time for the mana furnace to run empty anyway, and with the enemy numbers thinning out, they had some breathing room.
Above all, the deputies were shining. Their official status wasn't for show—they dispatched foes swiftly, even if it meant taking a few hits themselves.
Allen used his now-recovered left eye to service the leopard. As expected, its mana was running critically low.
"Need a hand?"
"No."
Deflated by Allen's curt reply, Kiki pulled a cloth from somewhere and started wiping around the leopard's mouth. That's when she spotted something glinting deep in its throat.
"What's this? A watchman's eye? You're a scarier guy than I thought."
As a magitech engineer herself, Kiki instantly recognized what the part was—no false title there.
"You can stop cleaning now."
"Just a bit more."
"We don't have time for that."
Even as he serviced the leopard, Allen kept watch around them. The underground dwellers' corpses were twitching. If his hunch was right, this was definitely Corpse Resurrection, one of the black magic arts.
Allen tapped the leopard's jaw to open its mouth and called to Kiki.
"Pass the word to the team."
"Huh?"
"Tell them not to stand in front of the leopard."
"Gonna use the beam? Didn't it burn through all its power?"
"No. Hurry."
Kiki had a sharp side and sensed something off, but Allen's urging made her turn away.
Allen thrust his hand into the leopard's mouth and swapped in the mana furnace he'd been preheating. It still wasn't enough—excess mana from his own body poured in rapidly.
He was using himself as a power source. To others, it just looked like he was busy with maintenance.
"Why'd you call us back? If that black magic finishes, we're screwed. These aren't regular zombies—they'll spew poison and toxins everywhere."
One of the approaching deputies asked. Normally, they wouldn't even pretend to listen to Allen's requests, but they'd roughly figured out who halted the automaton charge.
In the labyrinth, strength was the ultimate persuasion. Allen's skill was enough to sway the deputy's mind.
"The best way to stop Corpse Resurrection is to block the shaman, but as a fallback, destroying the corpses works too."
"How?"
Instead of answering, Allen showed them inside the leopard's throat. There sat the watchman's single eye they'd seen a thousand times before.
"Ah, got it. Everyone, fall back!"
Charging was already complete. As the team moved behind the leopard, Allen fired the beam. Target: the approaching zombies. Just as the deputy said, they were shrouded in a greenish mist-like substance.
He'd felt it last time too, but the mana drain was insane—his body trembled. Still, with more margin this time, he didn't completely collapse.
Wherever the searing red beam passed, the underground dwellers' corpses charred black. Even if Corpse Resurrection tried to heal them, so much of their bodies were vaporized that their combat power was negligible.
As Allen gleefully torched the zombies, he spotted the black mage through gaps in the horde.
I've got some mana left.
Finishing his thought, Allen called to the vanguard standing nearby.
"Step aside."
The leopard twisted its neck in sync, and the red line swept horizontally.
*
Francois pressed the black mage hard, his body drenched in gore for a brutal silhouette. No, that wasn't quite right. The barrier shattered the instant it was hit, only to regenerate and block the twin axes again.
"This is why brainless warriors are no good."
"..."
"You can't pierce my defense anyway. But I..."
The black mage swiftly formed hand seals. As the spell completed, a chilling aura spread in a circle.
Francois realized it wasn't aimed at him. Corpses were rising where his teammates stood.
"Zombies spewing poison and rot, plus corpse explosions. If you were a skilled mage, you might've stopped it."
"You're dead here, no question."
"Where do you think you're going? Play with me a bi—"
Boom!
A red beam suddenly slammed into the barrier's flank. Weakened on the sides for frontal reinforcement, it shattered helplessly, and the crimson ray roasted the black mage.
Francois seized the opening. The mage's focus wavered, weakening the barrier. His blood-dark axes pulverized it and finally severed the bastard's neck.
"Gurk!"
The black mage's grotesque regenerative power let him scream even with just a head left. He kept regenerating endlessly.
Still, Francois didn't give up. Every phenomenon had a cost. Healing magic consumed mana or rare materials to erase wounds, after all.
Chop, slice, smash—it would eventually expose their limits.
With that resolve, he swung his axes.
Mages were tricky, but give a warrior specialized in body enhancement some distance, and the tables turned. That sneering face was now drowned in blood, flailing desperately.
Sneering?
Francois sensed a heavy presence. A massive crab-like beast clacked its claws as it approached.
Riding atop it, an underground dweller wielded what looked like a grenade launcher. Overloading mana stones for launch made its power comparable.
Bang!
But the explosion came from elsewhere. The leopard slid in, slamming the mounted automaton with its cart.
"Kyaaah!"
The goblin let out a scream-slash-battle cry as it launched upward. Luckily, it cushioned the underground dweller.
The leopard overpowered the crab far larger than itself, smashing its outer armor with its forepaws.
And an explorer approaching from the side.
"I'll help too."
Allen raised his staff, now covered in rune-letter-engraved iron plates.
"What's that?"
Whoosh!
Startled by the fierce flames, Francois halted his axe swings. The black mage's scattered flesh and spilled blood ignited, filling the air with a foul stench.
"Flamethrower. Effective on organic tissue."
"Fuel?"
No fuel tank in sight. No explorer lugged heavy fossil fuels just for a flamethrower.
Which meant magic or a magitech device, but while the staff had all sorts of attachments, there were no visible mana stones or furnace.
As Francois stared, Allen focused solely on the arson.
"Gaaaaah!"
The black mage screamed. Scorching pain was top-tier agony—even a brain-remodeled black mage struggled to endure it.
Allen executed the immolation with emotionless stoicism. Francois unwittingly took a step back.
Cavern (6)
The clearing—about the size of two soccer fields—reeked to high heaven. Only now did the battle's clamor fully die down.
Allen stopped supplying mana to his staff as he watched the team tend to the wounded. The black mage was ash now; the bonfire rite was over.
Taking a deep breath, the refreshing plant scent from his mask filter filled his nose and lungs instead of roasting meat.
As Allen stood still, Francois suggested a break.
"You must've burned through a ton of mana. If you're beat, leave cleanup to others and rest."
"Not at the point of needing rest."
Allen replied while calming his overheated mana heart. His internal mana circuits were screaming for mercy, but for someone with mana excess syndrome, it was routine—nothing scary.
While Francois checked if the black mage was truly dead, Allen steadied his breathing first.
Can't get cocky from this.
Allen didn't delude himself into thinking he'd beaten the black mage with his own skill. The moment he'd lit the flames, the enemy was already minced meat courtesy of Francois.
The heat ray wouldn't have worked head-on either.
Still, he wasn't discouraged. Steady daily effort would get him there eventually. Comparing his first labyrinth steps to now showed massive progress.
Turning, his powered exoskeleton creaked. Parts bent in combat rubbed together.
Allen pulled a heating plier from his tool belt for emergency repairs and scanned the cart for the ejected Kiki.
She lay spread-eagled beside a riddled underground dweller corpse, mouth shut and still—like a broken goblin bot.
"Told you to jump early or hold tight. Didn't hear me? Or is your hearing busted?"
"Ugh... Colleague's down and your first words are an interrogation? Too cold, man."
"No whining. Your most fragile coolant pipe's fine, so the rest should be too."
Kiki made a pitiful face at Allen's words. Impressively lifelike synthetic skin from some mid-tier corp.
"How'd you spot that with just your eyes? That's like rich folks shoving mansions in their eye sockets. Your eyes that pricey? Big corp model?"
"No."
Allen shook his head, his left eye's bluish glow tracing left and right.
Kiki shut her mouth at the sight. Somehow, she figured this young man could pull it off without top-shelf gear.
Obviously no ordinary magitech engineer. His powered exoskeleton was built for combat, not escape; his handmade leopard was a beast; his real-time rune-letter combos were insanely fast. Sadly, the gap between them was huge.
His movements had an oddly clumsy feel, but such flaws were buried under his strengths.
Kiki pushed up to stand, then stared at the sticky sensation on her fingertips. Seeing the blood from her kill suddenly boosted her confidence.
"Enough harsh words—check this. Goblin gets it done when it counts."
"Yes, impressive."
"You think so too, right? Praise me more then."
"Stop wasting time and get up. Battle's over, but another awaits."
"After a break. Ha..."
Kiki met Allen's eyes.
Flames raging behind cast deep shadows on his face, the gas mask hid nose and chin, and those impassive eyes from first meeting to now.
The combo exuded intimidation. Her victory-high confidence shriveled instantly.
"...was gonna say, but guess not."
Classic goblin trait: simple mind, emotions running wild. Her cockiness chilled at the sight of Allen.
Allen and Kiki headed to where the team clustered. Wounded treating wounded—an odd sight, but unavoidable with no one unscathed after such a brutal fight.
Allen passed those thumbs-upping him, grabbing the neck of Kiki—who was deliberately dawdling to soak up praise.
"Check the team's gear first."
"You?"
"Collector corpses exploded, wrecked the cart—no way to move wounded, so gotta make one."
Kiki nodded, tapping her prosthetic arms. Bloodied awl vanished; magitech tools popped out.
Allen prioritized repairing the automatons. This was still the labyrinth—team needed to focus on combat and vigilance, not escort.
No combat needed—just mobility.
He extracted soul stones from the least-damaged automatons and swiftly manipulated the star letters.
Pocketing a few soul stones, Allen called the leopard.
"Open your mouth."
Its jaws parted on command; he shoved iron plates inside.
"Bite."
The leopard's drill fangs spun, punching holes through the plates.