Another day, another issue.

That seemed to be the life one was destined to live when they chose to be a magic knight within the land of Clover. And when he said ‘magic knight’, he didn’t mean those that were just holding on to their titles while keeping nothing warm but the couch cushions beneath their cheeks. Being the standout member of the Silver Eagles due to the fact that captain Nico had seen something in him that was worth developing within the confines set out by him, the ashen haired boy was allowed in despite not being of noble birth or being in possession of blue blood. The only thing he really had to show for himself was the fact that he had been granted a four-leaf clover during the grimoire awarding ceremony several months ago, which to a lot of onlookers meant that he was destined for greatness, and to do great things.

Personally, he had felt that this was the kind of pressure he didn’t truly need, as it just added extra weight on top of his shoulders, which didn’t outright benefit his small frame. On the other hand, being pushed to do better had served its uses, as Griswold had been pushing certain buttons even before he got his grimoire. After he got it, his training had only intensified, both in terms of combat and the cerebral angle. To think faster and faster, to plan and plot ahead and make split-second decisions while reading his opponents. It was why the former black knight had been pushing for him to learn how to use Ki and read the flow of mana, as these things would just serve to further elevate his prowess as a combatant. And truly, being the best version of himself was the only thing Gawain was interested in. It was why he had mastered the use of Ki in seven days.

Being a prodigy in every sense of the word, the boy did not care much for law and order or morality, for rules and legislation, for gods or religion. Though people often considered him to be a creepy kid, he was not a monster, even though his upbringing prior to returning to the land of Clover sure as hell made him one. As a slave living on Skjaergard with his mother, he wasn’t much older than eleven or twelve years old when he came to understand the meaning of suffering. Day in and day out, he and the other slaves were tasked with hauling bodies onto a cart and carrying them out to a massive marshland that spanned roughly ninety percent of the whole island. The stench of the marsh known to the islanders as “Dagmar’s Mire” was ripe with decay from countless bodies being left there for the corpse eaters to devour and get rid of.

When the corpse eaters didn’t get to the bodies in time, there was a chance for the truly vengeful dead to rise again as Draugr, allowing them to get a second chance at lashing out at the living and killing the ones that wronged them in life. It had been a rather normal day when Gawain’s mother was attacked by one of these undead that had only pretended to still be but another corpse on the pile. Though they had survived the attack, one of the people that lived next to them back on Clover hadn’t been so fortunate. They got butchered at the site, which allowed the boy and his mother to get away. Unfortunately, the lack of nutrition handed off to slaves and the necrotic wound she had received meant that she eventually died before week’s end. Adding insult to injury, Gawain’s owner told him that if he wanted to keep eating, he’d have to cart his mother’s body out into the mire along with the others.

It was at that time that Gawain fully gave up on the belief that there were any higher powers at work in the world, that the church was nothing but a hoax to allow con-men to exist off of the wealth they received from rich and poor alike. It was also when he began forming a dislike towards the undead, a hatred towards slavers and became somewhat ambiguous towards the value of life. As he got older and lost all attachment to those he knew, as all eventually perished around him, Gawain wasn’t used just to haul bodies out into the mire anymore. He was also being promised food and more hours of sleep if he became the silent blade that added bodies to the pile. More precisely, if he added the bodies of those whom his owner did not like or outright hated to the pile. Not caring for the lives of slavers and raiders, it was a relatively easy choice to make, which was when the boy was made into a murderer.

And now here he was, standing in the proud silver mantle belonging to one of the most prestigious magic knight squads to exist within the noble region of Clover. It was a joke honestly, a pretty bad one, though it was very much one he intended to ride out until the very end. Had it not been for Griswold, who had found him after butchering the raiders that returned to Clover to pick up new slaves, the boy wouldn’t have been able to reintegrate himself into society. Having been borderline feral for some time, the black knight had put in a lot of work to get him back to a point where he could be conceived as ‘human’ by the people of Clover. It seemed that it was quite a good thing that Griswold had held such a love for animals, as that was more or less what Gawain had been for a very long time.

With the black knight’s departure from Clover and leaving Gawain in his stead, no one would ever be any the wiser as to any of the hardships the boy had faced early on in life. No one would ever know the amount of lives he had ended with a rusty knife for a chance at earning his own existence, the amount of bodies he had dragged across a cobbled road into a monster-ridden marshland. No one would know, because the mask he had formed to shield all of the bad things into the deepest recesses of his brain made him into one of the most impish pranksters of the Silver Eagles. Hell, he had quite recently been berated by the captain for showing his ass to more or less the entire squad while trying to coax someone into a spar. At this point in time, Gawain had been pretending to be someone else for such a long period of time that he had honestly forgotten who he had been before all of this.

But as he set foot inside of this church, he couldn’t help but feel that he shouldn’t be here, that he shouldn’t be helping these delusional people. But he was a magic knight now, one that wanted to make the most out of himself and out of his squad, a thing he had been entrusted with by captain Nico and even by Griswold to a lesser extent. Truth be told, Griswold would more than likely be proud of him with how fast he had grown as a mage, yet frown upon him for joining one of the most elitist magic knight clubs imaginable. But that didn’t matter to the boy. Griswold was gone now, left without saying a word, meaning the life he lived now was one of his own choosing, and this was what he had chosen to do for the unforeseeable future. Arriving somewhat late as he didn’t really know whether or not this was the place for him to be, he eventually pushed himself through the front door and into the building.

When he was not instantly smited by some higher power, he just turned his attention upwards towards the sky and stuck out his tongue. For him, it was just further proof that no higher powers existed to protect places such as these. And that was why people like him were here, and why Valo was here, to provide the protection these people believed prayer would grant them. There was no doubt in his mind that by the end of it, they would probably thank their coming here to whatever powers they believed in, as if their gods or god or spirits had tipped them off and made them come to this church. Luckily, he wouldn’t need to think about such things anymore as Valo had arrived before he had, and seemed to have spoken to people already. That was good, as there was only so much sanctimonious bitching he could handle in one day. Heading straight for Valo, he hoped they could get away from these brainwashed people as fast as possible.

“Man, you’d almost fall off of your rocker by the strong musky scent of whatever incense they’re burning in here, sheesh. So what do they want us to do?”



WC: 1522
Total Room WC: 2307 / 3000

Listening as Valo quickly briefed him on the situation, the boy just listened closely and nodded a few times to show that he had heard everything quite clearly and agreed with their course of action. It seemed odd that there would be children playing tricks on people from inside of a mausoleum in this part of the country, as most people here were quite well aware of what might happen to those that weren’t careful. Being a kid himself, he had been warned several times by people he had never met not to go looking for trouble after dark, so it seemed unlikely that any parents would allow their children to play around in such a place. Besides, they would likely be caught by the people looking after the place, receive a swift kick in the ass and be sent home crying to their mothers. No, something didn’t seem quite right about it, though it fit rather well with the narrative of the church in his opinion.

Keeping people in the dark and lying to people’s faces while hiding behind forces greater than themselves was more or less what the youngster had come to expect of them after all. As such, the notion presented that the mausoleum might be haunted seemed far more likely. It was a place where the dead were taken to spent what time they had left before their bodies fully decomposed, so there being some kind of haunting wouldn’t be that odd. Pondering on the matter as he followed Valo towards the mausoleum, he looked on as the black bull unlocked the door for them and opened the way in. Heading straight in, it was as if they took a step into the past, as the church itself seemed like it had gone through quite a few renovations to keep the place looking nice and tidy, as well as somewhat with the times. Down here however, it was quite easy to see that the place was still as it had been when the very first body had been laid to rest.

In an odd way, Gawain could respect that. After all, the living were the only people that had any real benefit from gentrification and renewal, the dead did not. So leaving this place in a way similar to what it was back when the dead were still alive just seemed like the respectful thing to do. Looking around the room, he could not exactly spot any kind of movement or any presences, which more or less ruled out the factor of children pulling pranks down here. But that much just lived up to their expectations. When the doors suddenly shut tightly behind them, Gawain honestly did not even register it as he just kept looking around, feeling something strange from the far wall. It wasn’t like an actual presence, at least not in any conventional means of the word, though there was absolutely something there. Spotting a hole in the wall, it was clear that Valo had spotted it as well.

When the black bull wandered towards it, Gawain watched as the man observed the hole for a bit, seemingly catching a whiff of something as he more or less determined that they were required to move beyond. Then, with a swift blow, Valo toppled the crumbling wall down, revealing several things all at the same time. First of all, it revealed that there was a whole other area down there, one that had been sealed off by the church for some reason or another. Secondly, it seemed to be the catalyst for ‘shit hitting the fan’ as a terrible odor and an incredibly unpleasant wave of dread burst forth from the other side and washed over the room and everyone in it.

“Bloooody hell, what the fuck was that?! Ugh, that smell!”

Responding to the deathly chill he felt passing through him, the only time he had ever felt something similar to this was when he had been inside of another dungeon far to the north. Inside of the wildlands to be precise. There, a place existed that he had only barely managed to uncover before the people he had been told to head on in with turned out to be… problematic. It was a place that had been uncovered by scholars, located quite deep below the ground and hidden away for a good reason. Within it, they had encountered undead in various forms, as well as a large wolf that barred the way forward leading towards a frozen bridge of thick, magically imbued ice leading into the depths of the earth. The further they had pushed onward into that place, the more this abnormal cold managed to penetrate all protective clothing and seep into their very bones.

Due to the others not being able to hold their own, the tough call had been made to head back to the surface and seal the place off for the time being, something Gawain had taken quite some issues with. Had it been entirely up to him, he would have gone forward on his own, though the powers that be had other plans. But to make an otherwise long story short, the feeling was something he had felt before, though not nearly as potent. While it was quite clear to him that this sensation was magical in nature, there was something else to it, something that seemed far more elusive and hard to grasp. But believe it or not, even this sensation was not entirely new to the boy, as he had met instances of this in places other than this. Close to the border with the land of Diamond, there had been a temple hidden inside of a marshland, a place where people had worshipped and revered a snake deity.

When he and a bunch of archaeologists he had been tasked with protecting uncovered a golden idol, a massive statue had torn apart, revealing the remains of their serpent god to be hidden inside. When it broke free, it released a wave of dread that had made the long-dead bones of its worshippers come back to life. Whether it had been some kind of former deity or a demigod, the fact that it hadn’t been worshipped and had received no sacrifices for countless years had left it withered and desiccated, which allowed for the ashen haired boy to seemingly destroy it along with its temple, burying both in several metric tons of quicksand and rubble. All of these experiences told him that there was more to this world than met the eye. That much wasn’t all that hard to see after being confronted by it more than once. Harder to conceive however was the exact nature of what allowed some of these beings to possess a power that seemed to circumvent the laws of nature and magic that most mages took as gospel. Or rather, a hard truth.

When the dead in the coffins around them began knocking on the inside of their lids before forcefully pushing them open, they did not seem to be like most of the undead he had encountered before. Most of them were either just animated bodies, instead of bodies that still had some sort of intelligence remaining within them. In that sense, he had seen enough to know that there was a difference between outright necromancy and reanimation. One brought back what some would wish to call a ‘soul’ to the body, handing it some level of autonomy while keeping the reigns within the summoner’s hands. The other was just the reanimation of the body to be used as a means of attack or defense, making them into nothing more than a corpse golem, for lack of a better description. If he had to choose, he enjoyed the reanimation part more as it merely used the rotten meatsack rather than the person.

Once the lids opened and the undead began rising from their resting places, it seemed like they did not even see the two mages at first. Honestly, that kind of stung the boy’s pride, as he believed he had worked hard to at the very least be recognized by some long dead church assholes. Instead, they tried to make their way out of the mausoleum and into the church proper, meaning they were more than likely up to no good. But before he could make a move himself, Valo had already made his move. The man was faster than him, so it was to be expected, though that was something Gawain intended on remedying in the near future. Using hand to hand skills to put down several corpses and issuing some kind of gestalt aura that made the others halt in their tracks, it went to show that the black bull was quite far ahead of him in terms of physical prowess and martial mastery.

Believe it or not, that was more or less something he had come to expect of black bulls, as those he had met had all been rather well versed in melee combat. Along with Valo, there was also Griswold, the knight that had taught him quite a bit about various fields of fighting and how to achieve greater levels of excellence. Between the two, he wasn’t sure which of them would be the stronger martial combatant, as he had never seen what either of them were truly capable of when push came to shove. But since he was quite the studious kid, the boy didn’t waste any time when it came to following what Valo was doing and how he did it. Because as it stood now, there was one thing Gawain knew for certain, and that was that he was the sole possessor of the most refined form of Ki in the entire country as well as beyond.

He knew this because he was capable of doing things even Griswold had never been capable of, which just proved that his level of mastery was beyond the man who was at one point hailed as one of the most skilled swordsmen in the country, as well as one of the most powerful brawlers on the continent, likely being second only to Ardere, the captain of the Crimson Lions. To the boy, the use of Ki was no longer something that needed to be turned off or on, as it came as natural to him now as breathing or digesting food. With it, in spite of lacking the physical speed to match, he could see with his eyes and mind how Stark moved and the way in which he dispatched several zombies. That was, before both he and Valo were distracted by a rather odd zombie that came from the other side of the wall. Stepping in through the hole, it was as if it was scraping its throat in preparation for a sermon.

When it actually started talking, Gawain scratched himself behind the ears, as he felt like this was not the zombie’s own doing, but rather something that was using it as a puppet to speak through. Judging by the earlier wave of dread that had made all of these bodies rise, not to mention the fact that these were clearly some of the strongest zombies he had seen throughout his life, whoever controlled them was likely even more powerful. And that came from someone with quite a bit of experience in dealing with the undead, experience gained both from running from them when he was several years younger, as well as dealing with them head on after he had obtained his grimoire and could tap into his rather abundant pool of mana. This zombie spoke of justice, which wasn’t something Gawain really understood as he had no idea whom they were dealing with. What he did know however was how to ruffle some feathers and get people upset.

“Keep talking through a puppet, you Muppet. Before long, you’ll have your brain stomped out of your skull when you get beat up! By Valo! That guy!”

Making a bold statement while instantly shifting the blame of his provocations towards Valo as he pointed towards the man that began drawing his blade, Gawain stuck out his tongue towards the talking zombie. Though it really made no physical sign of being peeved or upset, it didn’t really get the chance to speak in response as it shot a torrent of blood magic from his gullet towards the two mages. Leaping to the side and doing a little cartwheel as a means of both showing off his athleticism while also adding more fuel to the pyres of provocation, he watched as Valo already closed the distance between himself and talker. To the regular zombies, the man likely was nothing more than a blur as he approached, though through his Ki, Gawain could see the man quite clearly as he took one step after the other before getting to where it was that he needed to be.

Then, with a swift strike of the blade along the back, the talker collapsed into a puddle of its own blackened blood. But seeing as how the focus had been taken off of the other zombies momentarily, they began moving without the restriction placed upon them out of sheer intimidation. Or maybe it was just because they had no mind of their own and were being controlled from a distance. Whatever the case might be, they had to be stopped. And so, as fast as his feet could take him, Gawain moved from his spot and towards the nearest zombie. Striking it against the jaw with a right hook and then hitting it in the temple with a right, the undead collapsed onto the floor as what passed for a brain had been scrambled like an egg. Performing a series of kicks and punches to knees, temples, hips and jaws, the boy did whatever he could to either cripple their movement or put them down entirely.

Taking down the last of the six zombies, it turned out that there was yet another of the zombies coming from beyond the wall left, one that quite literally came stumbling through the crumbling wall and fell into the room. Not about to give it a chance at attacking either him or Valo with their gross blood magic, he pushed his middle and index fingers together in the direction of his target before flicking them upwards, releasing a fast moving blade of wind that rapidly intercepted the undead and quite literally ripped it into two equal halves. No sooner than after both sections of it fell down to the floor did the boy look towards the section behind the wall, thinking for all of two seconds before addressing Valo.

“So… do you think they were aware of the fact that they were hiding some kind of necromantic entity below their church, or do you think they blamed in on children for funsies?”



WC: 2509
Floor 1 | Room 2 WC: Finished
Total WC: 4031

Took out three of the zombies with punchin’ and kickin’
Took out the envoy with below stated spell

Skipping after Valo like a child with the promise of there being candy at the bottom of the stairs, Gawain looked like none of this bothered him and that none of this really got to him. But that was wrong. Part of him wanted to figure out who was out there bringing people down here to life, though he also wanted to find the kinds of things that might allow him to expose the church on some fronts, as he had never really trusted them or their approach to things. He had always been told by Griswold that if something seemed too good to be true, that it more than likely was exactly that. It reminded him of one of the stories the black knight had shared with him, a story about one of the first ever magic dungeons he had found himself in. It had been a place where some sort of a witch or hag resided, the details of which eluded him right now.

But after fighting a bunch of overgrown spiders and some angry trees, it was said that they had found themselves in a small home. It was all quite neat, there was plenty of food, and it seemed like a fresh bowl of beef stew had just been prepared and left on the counter. Though the entire setting had seemed rather inviting, it turned out that the place being clean was merely an illusion concealing the fact that all of the meat had been carved from human bodies and that the severed body parts were littering the counter. The carnage was practically dripping from the floorboards. And that was in a way something Gawain took with him, and brought up in his mind when he thought about how the church pretended to be this group of people that were doing good things for the country when all they really did was sell superstition and a false sense of security while going to great lengths to conceal their own fuckups.

Hell, this whole place seemed to be a concealed fuckup of epic proportions in his eyes. Skipping from step to step as Valo led the way down, the boy thought of how this whole space had been underneath the church this whole time, and that it had all been hidden away by installing an old wall to seal off the catacombs. And then there were the undead that were calling out for justice. All of this stank, badly, and by that he didn’t even mean the necrotic wave of magic that permeated from beyond the hole in the wall. Normally, the boy wouldn’t have been so eager to follow someone else into the belly of the beast, being the kind of person that enjoyed taking the lead and getting to places first. But as it were, he figured he wouldn’t need to worry about that. This wasn’t Hania, who seemed to be content with being a statue most of the time, nor was it one of those upstart mages such as himself who wanted to prove themselves but ended up falling short.

In that regard at least, Gawain figured he had exceeded the expectations of many. And if it were up to him, he would continue to do so until he had reached a point where garnering further praise no longer held any real merit. As it were, he wanted to go up the ranks, as he had never really made a point out of ceremony and such things that might push up his theoretical rank based on the amount of golden stars he had earned. Maybe after he was done here and ended up scoring a few more, he might aim to be recognized by all the squads as being a Senior knight. Whether that would be a fifth, fourth or third grade Senior didn’t even matter all that much to him, as long as it got recognized that he was no longer just a Junior. By the time they made their way to the bottom of the stairs, the boy had taken his time reflected on what Valo had said to him, about people always having to hide, and that there were signs of battle all through this place.

And on that they agreed. On both of those things actually. There were plenty of old signs of battle here, with chipped walls that likely got hit by weaponry, scorch marks, near-ancient blood stains and droplets. All of the tell-tale signs that there had been some kind of internal struggle here, and that the church had swept it all under the rug so that no one might ever find out about it. Once they got into the next room proper, the amount of undead that had gathered up here seemed more numerous than those above. Not to mention that these seemed to be more difficult to deal with than the ones that had just crawled out of their coffins. The ones that seemed to be wearing a more intricate armor and utilized actual spears seemed to be the most dangerous ones, as they appeared to retain a number of their martial skills which they had possessed in life. Apparent when they began twirling and spinning their polearms in preparation for a fight, Gawain looked towards Valo for a response.

A question, simple and straight to the point was returned with an even more simplistic answer, voiced by a choir of undead chanting the word “justice”. It was a haunting thing to hear, as the justice of the grave really only ever came down to one thing, the killing of those that had wronged them. It was a common thing on the islands, but to see it all transpiring underneath a church of all places, that just felt like whatever was going on here must have been really damning. Since the undead had nothing more to say and nothing more to offer than the word justice, it was only so long before they made their move. Already knowing that one of their kind was known mainly for spitting blood, the boy imagined the spear wielders would be the most problematic out of the bunch. Before long, Valo made his way into the fight, utilizing melee skills that were honestly quite good. Though that much was to be expected of an Archmage that made it their bread and butter.

Judging from the strikes themselves, as well as their speed, the boy made sure to memorize it all for later. If there were some handy or useful maneuvers there, he might try to emulate them in his own time through some freeform training. Once the sword got introduced into the fight, he started to understand why Griswold had always carried several blades into his fights, as they were quite handy. For him personally however, he was rather content with the use of magic when it came to dealing with his foes. Even though martial prowess and excellence carried a certain amount of swagger, there was nothing that could really match the vibe given off when someone was outright obliterated by magic they could not possibly hope to beat. So while Valo fought his foes in a more physically strenuous and tiring fashion, Gawain refused to let a bunch of rotting corpses get the drop on him or force out even an inch of sweat.

Holding out his hand as the battle started, thick condensed blades were fired across the room. Due to the sheer speed by which they moved and the penetrative force behind them, the spell used this time was not just your average wind blade. It was a series of wind blades moving together in a grid shaped pattern that more or less doubled as a meat grinder. Passing through the unsuspecting undead, not to mention the wall behind them, it was only moments later that they all fell apart into a stack of fleshy squares. When even the part of the wall that was hit suffered the same fate, Gawain was just glad the structural integrity of this place wasn’t damaged too much. That said, maybe the best way to deal with this was to just collapse the whole place and the church along with it, though that would likely not end up granting him as many golden stars as it would end up taking them in the form of black stars instead.

Ridding the world of a bunch of necromantic slaves in one fell swoop, he looked back towards Valo who tore through rotting flesh with just his blade. Maybe at some point, he too should consider picking up a weapon of some kind, though that point in time still felt quite far off. So, as he watched the remainder of the fight take place, he just tried to wrap his mind around what exactly these people had been before. Their regal attire, albeit rotted and withered seemed to carry some weight. Or at least, it seemed like it had once. By the time Valo was done cutting down the dead, Gawain figured he’d just ask.

“Why do you think they had these armed soldier types down here, and who do you think they were?”




WC: 1537
Room WC: 3242 | 3500
Total WC: 5568

All enemies deaded

Even though the church was one of the entities that he personally could not bring himself to care a whole lot about, what with his personal beliefs being that having faith in intangible things takes away from a person’s own strength and will to make things happen though hard work and effort, Gawain did like hearing more about it. Or rather, he liked hearing more about its inner workings and finer mechanics, as he wasn’t all too sure how the church truly functioned at all. He just knew the things that one could plainly see from the outside, the preaching and the goodwill, as well as the blatant lies told to keep people in a false sense of security. A sense of security not so much for themselves, but for their immortal souls, the false knowledge that they might find sanctuary after death so that they can carry on being as they were for eternity.

To Gawain, that sounded like nothing short of pure hell. He did not intend to live forever, nor did he intend for his existence to be carried on into infinity, as that would be incredibly boring. He just wanted to make the most out of the time he had, and become as strong a mage as he could possibly become within those confines. For him, venturing into places such as these allowed him to figure out exactly where he had grown, where room for growth remained, as well as seeing if there are entirely new avenues which he might delve into. It was why going into places such as this with people like Hania and Valo, who were arguably leagues beyond him in strength and power, was as enlightening as it were. During an ordinary spar, there was a limit to how much one would be able to learn by watching others, that much stood as a pole above water.

But when in places such as these that seemed to trigger larger numbers of combatants possessing increasingly higher levels of skill, these people needed to maintain a level of comprehension regarding their foes and surroundings, given they might die if they didn’t. That was the one thing no real spar could ever simulate, the feeling of impending doom and potential defeat resulting in death. Even though Valo seemed more than capable of handling himself in this place, there had been a time when cutting through foes like these would have taken far more effort. And it showed in his moves. The same was true when he observed how Hania had fought in a previous magic dungeon, or when he had observed Griswold during their shared training exercises. It was the kind of thing that was born not out of arrogance or ego, but out of martial mastery.

Even though he would never really be able to admit it to himself properly, all of these men acted as role models to him. Not just because they had made it up to the pinnacle of magic and called themselves archmages, but because he considered them to be strong. He had seen people who called themselves senior knights, grand knights even, though they had never really seemed like strong or capable people, not in his eyes, not even when he was still a mere junior knight that had just started climbing through the ranks. But the one thing Gawain had come to learn about himself was that, whenever he considered someone to be a worthy rival, they usually never remained that way for long. Due to the rate at which he grew, the pace at which he kept getting stronger and stronger, he usually surpassed them before it ever came down to a proper spar.

The same had happened with Leonard Vermillion. When they first met, the crimson lion had been a good deal stronger than him. But by the time Gawain had come to him for a spar on his own home turf, the guy hadn’t come out to meet him, likely not willing to lose a fight on the training grounds of his own home in front of his entire family. The whole thing had been somewhat infuriating to the ashen haired boy, as it had deprived him of an important moment by which to measure his exact level of growth and increase in prowess. It was the kind of thing he would not just be able to forgive regardless of whether or not the guy begged for it or simply pretended it had never happened. To him, the chance of a worthy rivalry there had more or less died the moment it had begun, as so others had done before it. But with these guys, it was different.

“I see. So the church has a sect of trained warriors that aren’t magic knights? How does that work? Don’t they fall under military jurisdiction? It seems strange for there to be some kind of ‘church police’ that acts on its own without say of the magic knight squads and the wizard king.”

Honestly finding the entire situation quite odd, it was intriguing at the same time, as it meant that there were warriors, mages and combatants that he had never seen or heard of that he might contend with for the title of strongest. But that was something to concern himself with once he actually reached the point of meeting one of them, considering how there were currently at least a fair amount of magic knights that seemed like they would be able to serve as role models, rivals and stepping stones as it were. Though the term stepping stone seemed somewhat negatively charged, the fact of the matter was that Griswold had stated not to hate being one for the next generation of mages. If people could learn from him and eventually surpass him in doing what he did best, it was something he seemed to be very much open to, and welcomed greatly from Gawain.

As it were, one of the things he would likely resent most of all was the fact that he would never get a chance to challenge Griswold to a fight, that he would never get to see whether he could beat him or not. At least with people like Valo and Hania, there was a chance at that. That was, as long as he or they did not die before the time came. And that was when they encountered the next band of undead.

But these were no ordinary zombie rotters, no walking bags of gas and pus. These were undead that had risen with a purpose, the kind that kept their minds intact, or at least right enough to the point where they could see through the haze and maintain what it meant to be people. They possessed a need for vengeance, which was as good a means to cling to life, or unlife as any. Interestingly enough, they managed to shed some light on the matter of betrayal that had been brought up before by the other zombies that had acted as a mouthpiece for an undead that was likely a whole lot stronger than them. To Gawain, this meant that the undead warrior standing in front of him was likely on a whole other level than the zombies, the speakers and these ‘spears’. Judging by the armor he wore, it seemed more than possible that this guy was some sort of squad leader or something of the kind for the warrior sect.

“As much as I hate to be ‘that guy’, I need to correct you for a bit there. If you wish to compare me to the church, allow me to inform you that I am indeed better than them, better than they will ever be.”

Allowing his mana to flare ever so slightly, he allowed a wave of murderous intent to leak out of him and wash over his surroundings as he spoke. Difficult as it were to control it, he was quite certain that Valo would remain unphased by it, allowing the boy to spread his aura all over the room. Even though their enemies were of the undead variety, as long as they possessed enough of a personality and brain to be able to think and move on their own, they could still experience fear. Or so the boy reasoned.

“Secondly, we were not sent here to finish you off, as we had no way of knowing any of you were down here. Following up on that, you will not be getting through either of us, as you’ve died long ago and have no place in this world anymore…”

Following up on those words and that realization, several of the spears came charging at him, spear in hand while utilizing fire magic as a means of distracting or potentially hurting the boy and Valo while covering their approach. While most attacks seemed entirely like distractions that never stood any hopes of hitting anything, what with Valo already starting to attack and cut down the undead warriors that got within his range, Gawain honestly had some difficulty evading the few shots that were actually coming at him directly. By the time he had gotten out of what seemed like harms way, the first of the spears got up in his face, spear at the ready to land a serious blow on him. But truth be told, these kinds of attack did not stand a chance against someone like him. For even though Valo was faster than he was, and a good deal faster than these spears were, Gawain was not that far behind him in terms of sheer physical speed.

Managing to throw himself to the side, he held out his hand and aimed it right at the spear, knowing the others to be right behind him as he aimed to go right through him to get to the rest. It wasn’t the cleanest of kills, nor was it in any means respectful of him to do so. Had this been an actual combatant that were still alive and had earned his respect, he would have refrained from such violent methods of attack. But seeing as these people, however tragic it may have been, were no longer alive and had likely not actually been alive for a very long time, there was no need for him to pretend like they still required to be treated as people. The best thing he could do for them at this point was to send them all out as quickly and as destructively as possible so none of them would actually experience the pain of dying a second time. That was, if their undead bodies could actually still register and feel pain to begin with.

Upon firing the first grid, the attack tore right through the first of the former church warriors, followed up directly with a second that tore through the gaps made by the first in order to cut the second of the spears into cubes. Then finally, a third came passing through that took out the last of the spears, which truly just left the leader of the spears standing in the room. Or rather, he was the only one still on his feet that was rapidly approaching Gawain while Valo was cutting down the other spears with a rather interesting spell that looked like blue flames at first glance. Even though his Grid spell had currently been expended, the three back to back shots being the best he could manage with his current level of strength, skill and mana control, though he still had another trick up his sleeve. So when the man dashed at him, proving that he did not surpass his men, and therefore could not surpass Gawain nor Valo in speed, his sword never got to land a blow on Gawain as the boy spoke.

“But rest assured, once we figure out what happened down here and who was responsible for it, the culprit will pay the price. That is my only guarantee to you. Now if you would be so kind, you may rest in peace.”

With a quick flick of the wrist and a gesture of his fingers, the man’s sword, as well as the arm it was connected to went flying past Gawain, sticking into the wall behind him. For in the blink of an eye, a roughly five centimeters wide gash was torn across Hadrian’s body, taking off half of his head going down all the way to the floor. It stood to reason that the man might have heard Gawain’s words before the spell hit its mark, though he was not sure whether or not the man would have been able to process the words before his brain had been partially destroyed. As the remains of the squad leader fell to the floor, the boy honestly did hope that he had been heard, and that maybe he would have been able to take solace from the fact that the two mages were going to see things through, as well as potentially punishing those that had caused all of this to begin with. Sadly, judging by the decayed state of all of these bodies, whoever had greenlit what happened down here had more than likely already passed away from old age.

At times like these, the ashen haired youth hated the fact that he hadn’t been born with the ability to use time magic. Having the ability to slip through time and correct mistakes seemed to be nothing short of the power of gods, though he was certain that he would have been the perfect fit for it. Being able to go back to see to it that good people never got punished for being good by those that were simply rotten to their core, it seemed like such an ephemeral thing when he thought about it. But maybe that was why he had never seen anyone control and shape time at their whims the way he did the air. Kick a rock across the room in a bit of a fit, he looked at Valo, who had already dispatched his foes rather easily compared to the effort he himself had to put in, not to mention the amount of mana he had to expend to do so.

“You don’t think the people who caused whatever happened down here might still be alive right? Because if those bastards still draw breath, certainly we’d have to seek them out and make sure they never abuse their status again. And by that, you know I don’t mean taking anyone to prison, right?”

Being incredibly transparent about the fact that he very much intended to kill members of the church if it turned out that these people yet lived, he knew that the very statement might throw shade upon his career as a magic knight moving onward. But still, he felt like Valo wasn’t some kind of puppet that had the hand of the wizard king up his ass, and that he could very much think for himself. It made him want to know what the more mature mage had to say regarding the matter, as this kind of thing simply would not stand in the young boy’s mind. Panting rather heavily after having used so much mana in such a small amount of time to deal with various powerful opponents, he had to wipe some beads of sweat that formed on his forehead away with his sleeve. But tired as he was, he did not intend on stopping here or taking a break. They had to see this thing through to the end, and make sure this whole ordeal was brought to as proper a conclusion as one might expect.




WC: 2621
Total WC: 8189

Not overworking himself. A statement he had heard not too long ago when he had been going through an altogether different magic dungeon, one that stood in stark contrast to what he had been told to do when he grew up in a place not that different from the one they were currently in. Inhospitable was the word that came to mind, though it was not doing the amount of discontent he had felt justice in any way. Back then, the only way he was to survive was when he did everything on his own, relied on nobody and grew stronger on his own: both mentally and physically as he had no real magic to speak of at the time. The moment he had turned fifteen had been a pretty big moment for him, perhaps more so for him than it had been for most others due to the type of grimoire that was handed down.

It was true that relying heavily on his use of magic had made him a bit rustier, though he hadn’t been rusted shut. He still had the flexibility of youth working for him, a factor he was quite well aware of as Griswold kept pushing that point and how he should not be taking it for granted when he had it. But when it came to taking it easy just because he wasn’t on his own, the boy felt troubled about the idea of backing down and changing into a lower gear. It went against his entire way of life to do so, even though he did truly appreciate the gesture. Nodding in approval and understanding, he did not actually respond to the statement itself as he didn’t know how to kindly tell the man that he would not be able to take less hay onto his fork. Luckily for him, what mana he had been expending had more or less replenished itself when the ventured into the next area.

As they did, Gawain took a breath and got hit by a blast from the past. Though it did not bring him to vomit or even gag, it forced him to remember the horrors of Dagmar’s Mire: the collective name given to the swamps and marshes that spread across roughly ninety percent of the island of Grýnd. The constant stench of death and decay was ever present within it, mostly due to the way in which the islanders had been treating the place for years beyond count. Due to all of the violent deaths that occurred within Villtsung settlements, many wished to not have to face the Jarls or the High King’s judgement, urging them to get rid of the bodies within the marshes. Within the bogs, many of the local creatures had seemingly adapted to becoming scavengers that fed on dead bodies, though there were also those that believed the place to be a nexus of natural mana that made that much more rotten.

Whatever the case were, there was no doubt in Gawain’s mind that this place they were in right now, it was in no way a naturally occurring something. Someone had caused all of this, or maybe some thing had caused it. Regardless of which, it was clearly something that was incredibly powerful and unwilling to stay down here as the rot seemed to be spreading. The more he thought about it, the more it started making sense. The undead they had encountered up until now had clearly not been trying to keep them from getting deeper into the place. No, in fact, the two of them had been keeping the undead from getting out and claiming their revenge. But once they had claimed their revenge, what would happen then. It was clear to see that they would not just be going back down into the catacombs and return to being dead.

For what it was worth, the boy managed to quickly get used to the stink of death and decay, which might have been somewhat telling about him. Whether or not Valo would be able to tell while he was gagging, the ashen-haired mage imagined the man would likely not be too bothered by it. If he were, they would likely be discussing something entirely different, though not entirely unrelated to the issue at hand. Because if it were up to Gawain, he would not have had any trouble with killing people who were this evil. Second chances were there and being handed out in large quantities, often being entirely successful and bringing about proper change for those that actually want to change. For others, a second chance is just another chance for them to continue doing whatever it was they were doing while being less transparent about it. They would do the exact same thing while hiding it better.

“I can’t be sure whether or not second chances should apply to everyone. Take this place for instance. There are times when the rot has settled so deep into something that just leaving it be or trying to remove the rot are pointless. Fruitless. When gardening, you remove something that’s rotten so the rest of the garden doesn’t suffer for it. When dealing with truly evil people, a second chance is just a second attempt at continuing their evil while hiding it better.”

He might have been a young man that only had his grimoire for a few months now, but the fact remained that he had seen some of the most vile acts by some of the most vile people with his own two eyes. Due to this, his stance on how to handle certain things in life had become rather harsh. He would never deny someone who had done something wrong the right to a second chance, but when someone had consistently been performing horrid acts without being forced to do it, he felt as though sending such people to prison or putting them to death was the only proper way to go about it. One wouldn’t spare a rabid wolf when they had killed cattle and mangled a farmer, one wouldn’t think twice about putting down a mana beast that had started running amok in a civilian area. So honestly, why humans that terrorized society should be treated any differently was beyond him.

But as per his Ki telling him of impending threats, he watched as the despoiled surroundings here gave way for a bunch of armor-clad warrior spears. It made him wonder what kind of rotten substance they were dealing with here, and what it would do to them if they came into contact with it. Believing that they would somehow need to push through, Gawain waited for Valo to engage them in battle, what with him being the more physically able of the two. That, and he had an actual sword he could rely on to fend off their weaponry while remaining unscathed. Beyond the rot, following the pathway these warriors had pushed in from, he could see that the rot was far more compressed there. In fact, it was as if it had conglomerated into one massive object. Though its purpose was unknown, Gawain knew for certain that if such a thing were to be unleashed in the kingdom above, it would spell doom for hundreds of innocent civilians.

“Don’t let them into the incubation chambers!”

As one of the guards yelled for them to keep the two mages away from venturing any further inside, their fight against Valo had properly started. Diving in and dishing out some cuts that left its targets utterly defeated, it was a good thing that these undead did not seem to be of the variety that would continue attacking once they had been severed at the waist. If their remains had kept on crawling and casting spells even after the fact, they would likely have been in far greater trouble than they were at this point in time. Still, something had changed now that they were so close to the source of the rot, something that seemed to bolster the warriors that protected it, even if it were barely noticeable at all. But with their focus being on Valo as he cut and carved through their undead flesh, Gawain would make use of the confusion and the lack of focus on his being to take down everything he could.

First up, he unleashed his current favorite spell, releasing it with a simple enough gesture of his opening fist as if letting it escape from his open hand. Sending the cutting grid through the area, he made sure to do it in a manner that would miss Galo by at least a whole meter so as to not inflict any kind of needless damage when everything had been going so well. The last thing he wanted right now was for anyone to say that he had been carelessly putting his compatriots in danger, which was the kind of thing that would weigh on his record particularly hard due to his age. As it were, people already made light of him because of it, so if he also made mistakes due to being rash, that could put a serious dent in his career. Pushing the grid as hard as possible, two of the warriors got hit by a total of three consecutive grids, which utterly destroyed them and reduced them to tiny little bits of roughly even size and shape.

Continuing to gang up on Valo as he cut down another, Gawain sent out a crescent blade of compressed air, followed up directly by another one, and another one after that. Though it caught the first spear off guard, as the blade cut through towards the second, he countered by utilizing a spell that seemed like some sort of star. Much to his surprise, this spell was powerful enough to overcome his own, which clearly was nothing he had expected to encounter from these average guard type combatants. As all three of the wind blades lost to the star, the boy managed to theatrically roll out of the way by doing cartwheel into the center of the room. With the star missing him by quite a bit of distance as his initial attacks had slowed down the rate by which it could rage onward, the cartwheel devolved into a head roll, ending in the boy sitting on one knee as he pointed his fingers towards the surviving guard with one eye closed.

Looking over his own finger gun as though aiming, the guard having to fend off Galo’s sword attacks that had just killed one of the last two guards in the room gave the boy another chance to make use of the situation. Firing a single bullet of compressed air straight at the spear’s head, the attack was followed up by a blade of air moving directly in its wake. A moment later, the bullet struck the side of the warrior’s head, causing it to stumble back in surprised confusion before the blade of air moved directly up behind it to take off his head and leave his shoulders unattended. With the armored head falling to the ground, the body took a few odd steps back as the whole thing came tumbling over and collapsed into the dirt. Surrounding Valo with a good amount of dead bodies, they wouldn’t be able to just sit idly by and revel in yet another victory. With this incubation room being right next to them, they needed to push on and rid the world of whatever it was incubating.

FLOOR 3 | ROOM 2

Although still bothered by the fact that these warriors possessed magic strong enough to beat out his own, confronting him with just how weak he currently still was, he did not have the time to wallow in his misfortune right now. Nodding at Valo that they had to keep going forward without really wasting any words in the process, he moved on ahead while the way forward was open and unguarded. Pushing his way in, he set foot into a room that appeared to have been some sort of a chapel or auditorium for gatherings of some kind. But as it was now, it was clear that those days were long passed. Experiencing some difficulty breathing, it was as if he could almost see just how thick the air here was with miasma. Believing that it could not at all be healthy to be breathing such a thing in, he pulled his clothing over his nose and mouth in hopes of somehow filtering out some of the substance in the air.

Glancing around the room, he had imagined that he would have instantly been assaulted by more guards, though this seemed to not be the case, at least not yet. While he could already see their forces marshalling for yet another assault, leaving Gawain to wonder just how many of these warriors were left down here to begin with, they seemed to await some kind of command. For it was within this room that the odd chanting could be heard far more clearly, meaning the one causing it was right here with them. And just as he was thinking about it, so did the figure step out from behind the large mass of decay. With arms wide open she walked about, almost as if proudly showing the boy and Valo what she had created here. On the ground, a thick and rotten paste had formed, pulsing and squirming as one stepped on it as though it were alive. Along the walls, a similar paste giving rise to thick and outlandish looking fungus.

“Warmest greetings to you, interlopers, and welcome to the incubation room. If you don’t mind me asking, little one, how old are you?”

And there it was again, another ‘person’ who seemed to be more concerned about his age than about the things he was capable of. It was the reason why he had been such an effective murderer some years prior to being taken back to the land of Clover. Very few ever expected a ten year old boy to carry a dagger in his clothing. And when a target was drunk enough or asleep, one’s age did not matter a whole lot as the dagger itself just needed a little weight put behind it in order to slit one’s throat and condemn one to death. It made him wonder if this woman was going to make the same mistake by thinking too little of him, only for her to find that he possessed more than enough strength to kill the average undead that existed down here. Before he could answer the question however, it seemed that she had already made up her mind and carried on her monologue without any actual details.

“To think the church would use children to do their bidding, preposterous! But you need not be afraid, for nothing down here truly dies. In fact, we all live forever down here, becoming part of the rot as it becomes part of us. If you find it hard to believe, witness the birth of a new generation.”

As she reached into the large column of conglomerate rot and decay, it formed and gave rise to a small yet hideous little creature. For as far as he could tell, it felt like a gross overstatement of facts to call the thing ‘alive’, though it was certainly moving about on its own. As she gave it a kiss and placed it on the ground, it making contact with the filth-stained floor caused it to grow larger as it absorbed a portion of the rot into itself. Growing to roughly the height of an adult male, it was quite a bit wider, meaning it was likely quite strong physically. Hoping that it wouldn’t be in any way intelligent, as that could make for a dangerous combination, this monster existing here along with the woman that conjured it and all of the guards meant this would become a difficult place to get through. But with all of the things here that required complete and utter destruction, Gawain hoped Valo would be intelligent enough to rely on his magic instead of his sword.

While he had no doubt that the man was a capable swordsman, just like Griswold was, Gawain knew that the black knight possessed a great deal of fire power when not relying on his sword to do the heavy lifting. And seeing as how Valo existed within the upper echelons of magic society, it seemed more than plausible to think that the same could be said about him. Because one thing was about as clear as glass, and that was the fact that this entire incubation room had to be shot all the way to hell.

“Alas, for the rot to birth more children, more mass is to be given back to it. Should you wish to surrender to it yourself, I promise you’ll be born anew before you know it. Spend your lives eternally bound to me, and to the father of rot, and I shall take care of you as my own. You will be loved, truly loved, like only a mother can.”

With her arms opened once again as though waiting for a hug, Gawain instead felt compelled to take a step back in response, which was not exactly something he was known to do. Instead of engaging, he was temporarily at a loss for words and unsure of what to do. Sure, he knew that he needed to destroy this creature and all of the other creatures she was birthing into this space, but there was something that felt odd about this whole situation. Maybe the whole motherly vibe she was trying to give off was playing into some remnant emotions regarding his mother and her death. The fact that she had died of an infected wound caused by one of the undead within Dagmar’s Mire, the thought that her body had been disposed of within that very same marsh, it was something that would never let go of him as he could never let go of the memory.

He would never know whether or not she was devoured by the corpse eaters, or if she was also returned as a Draugr, forced to walk the marshes endlessly until she had received vengeance upon the living that had wronged her. So for this decaying remnant of a woman to stand in front of him, spouting nonsense about becoming part of the rot and part of her family, it was tugging at strings he did not think he had. But as he composed himself, he picked up on something the woman had said, something that made him realize that this was not where things ended. She mentioned a father, a father that did not seem to be out here, meaning he was somewhere else. If he were to be correct in his current thoughts, that meant that this woman was not the origin of the evil down here, it meant that she was just another being raised from death and a useful shield to keep him safe.

So even if he and Valo made it through this room, it was logical to assume that there was still an entity out there somewhere that was far more powerful and threatening than this woman here. To think that something existed that she called the “Father” to her mother, it felt odd that he was not here, making sure his supposed wife did not fight alone. Or rather, given the amount of manpower within this room, saying she was fighting alone was a blatant lie. Still, he knew that if his father had still been alive at the time, he would have done anything and everything to make sure his wife and child were safe. To him, this just meant that all of this was some kind of evil farce, and that all of those raised in this space were just as deluded as the warrior leader Hadrian they had faced down before. But one way or another, they would need to defeat those that barred the way forward, and get rid of the incubation room at the same time.



WC: 3377
Total WC: 11566
Current Room WC: 1444

It seemed that, while there was a bit of a gap in reasoning, Gawain and Valo could more or less come to terms with the whole punishment thing. His own past had been filled with death penalties issued out without really being any the wiser as to why, and that was not something he wished to go back to. So giving people a second chance would not be the worst thing, even a third or fourth chance might not be the end of the world. Though at the end of the day, it would always come down to the crime itself. After all, if someone littered and promised to better themselves, they would get away with it pretty easily. However, if someone murdered another person in cold blood, that was not something one would be able to just come back from. People often had a tendency for not forgiving that kind of deal.

It was why he had never bothered to tell anyone about his past. And seeing as how everyone he knew from that time was no longer in the realm of the living, there wouldn’t be anyone around to tell. Personally though, the one thing he believed they would not find themselves on was the concept of life in prison. Those deemed too dangerous to ever be returned to society should not have to live their lives in a prison cell, as there was always the chance of them escaping and going back to their lives of crime. Even when looking at it from the perspective of benevolence, killing someone outright was a greater mercy than spending the time they had left on this planet inside of a small cell with horrible food. Given his own age, if he were to ever face life in prison, he was one hundred percent certain that he would sooner take the option of being put to death over spending decades in a musky cell.

But that was neither here nor there, as the battle had quickly ensued after Mathildis became a bigger threat than she was worth, proving she could fashion a form of rotten, decayed life out of death. She could not be released onto the world, regardless of what had happened to her at the hands of the church. Before he could truly get into the fight himself, Valo had already darted off while engaging the enemies on multiple fronts at the same time, even using magic for once. It was best not to touch these things too much, as there was no telling what kind of diseases one might contract from the gross gloop and goop. Seemingly being focused on taking as much of the fight onto himself, there was very little Gawain could do at his point that wouldn’t risk messing up what was going on already. As such, he would focus his attention on the one thing that seemed to be going mostly unharmed.

The mass of rot at the center of the incubation chamber, the thing they were all seemingly protecting, and the single largest threat to the safety of the surface world that existed within this space. Even though he was in fact getting fairly tired, the expenditure of mana at large quantities at equally rapid rate was something he was going to have to get used to. Because the harder things became on missions, magic dungeons and other potentially life-threatening situations, the more he would need to do things such as these. And getting tired was just a ways to explain his own laziness and lack of stamina. And if there was one thing he was unwilling to do, it was to make excuses for his own weakness as he did not have that luxury. He was a Silver Eagle now, and as a commoner, the nobles would pounce him over quite literally anything they could get their hands on.

And so, as the fighting continued and all eyes were elsewhere, Gawain took his shot at the one thing he deemed the largest threat at this moment. As quick and as accurately as possible, the boy unleashed what could very much be called his signature move at this point, firing various condensed lines of air through the space. Carving the incubated mass into a plethora of smaller bits that were then cut up and sectioned again and again until a shattered mass remained on the floor, he could tell by Mathildis’ scream that she was shock and enraged by the sight of it. But she would not get to linger in her rage and anguish for long as Valo dispatched her along with the rest of the combatants within the room in due time. Before long, the Black Bull had killed what the room had to offered, while further reinforcements were cut off through the destruction of the mass.

“That’s fine. I don’t particularly enjoy killing these .. things, but they can’t be allowed to walk around and spread their misery to others. But you’re right, I could really manage without the smell.”

FINAL BOSS ROOM

With the destruction of the incubation chamber, Gawain felt somewhat more ensured of the fact that they had kept the surface from being plagued by zombie fungus monsters, at least for the foreseeable future. But this was not the end of it, there was still one adversary that they would need to face down, the entity referenced to as the “Father”. If he were to be anything like the “Mother”, the ashen-haired boy wasn’t all that worried as Valo would be able to handle him with relative ease. Saying that however, he wasn’t sure if this would be the case. He said this not as a means of trampling over the remains of Mathildis, but because of the fact that this father was absent when his supposed wife was being attacked and killed. He was absent when this incubation room, which was supposedly of great importance to the lifeless ones down here was being destroyed. Even now, the man did not show his face at all. And this worried him.

It made him wonder if this person was somehow detached from everything that was going on, or if he had any ulterior motives. Or maybe it was simply something as simple as it not caring about anything that had been going on. It was a strange thought, especially given the drive of the undead minions that seemed to revolve solely around vengeance. So if this Father entity was their supposed leader, it not caring about anything wouldn’t make sense. The more he thought about it, the more difficult it became to come to a conclusion that sat well with him in his mind, as nothing seemed to fit with the overall situation. But as he thought about it, a rumbling could be heard within the room as a door he had not yet seen started to open. Pushing aside the mold and fleshy growths along the walls as it did, a passage into an inner sanctum was unveiled. Feeling a strangely warm waft coming from within, it seemed that the end of the road was in sight.

Passing through the passage and into the inner sanctum, one of the first things he saw were the vast amounts of truly humongous mushrooms growing all throughout the room. While it was a lot warmer in here than it was anywhere else in the odd catacombs beneath the church, it was also strangely cleaner? Not so much because there was no rotting substance here, but because it seemed like the massive mushrooms used it as sustenance to grow as large as they did, their wire-like systems growing all throughout it and the room itself. That said though, Gawain did not get the same dangerous read from them as he got from the incubation room, meaning it was more than likely harmless, or at least much less of a threat. Once Valo also made his way through the passage and had made his way fully into the chamber, the doors slowly closed behind them. Had they wanted to escape, they could have easily made their way through, but that was clearly not nor had it ever been their intention.

So as the door slowly and softly shut behind them, fungus rapidly enveloped the door as though reclaiming its space, after which it quieted down and ceased all movement. It was a strange sight to see, but it was nowhere near the strangest thing he had ever seen out in the world, nor was it anywhere close to being the weirdest thing he had seen in this dungeon alone. With the door properly closed and hidden, it was then that a presence within the room made itself known. It made no real effort at concealing itself, instead just hovering down from the ceiling until it was just hanging slightly above the floor. From the looks of things, this man had to be the father that had been brought up previously. And while he was clearly the reason this dungeon existed, Gawain could not really sense any form of hostility from the man. Instead he just hovered there, suspended in the air above the rot along the ground as he looked down upon the two magic knights.

“Ah, the righteous heroes sent by the church. Come to finish what your forebears could not?”

Speaking with a rather contained tone of voice, it was made clear from the start that this man had enjoyed a relatively rich life prior to whatever had caused him to enter into this state of being. He carried himself with the same weight as some of the well and truly rich nobles he had encountered in the city, while at the same time making an attempt at not letting that shine through. It was an odd balance, but this man seemingly made it work.

“I sense that you’ve killed my dear wife and put an end to her incubation project. A pity, both were equally dear to me, and set back my plans quite a bit. No matter, they’ll be brought back shortly after I’ve dealt with the two of you.”

This was where things however got odd. The man seemed utterly unphased by the fact that his wife and her ‘children’ had been killed, nor did he seem to really mind the fact that their shared project had been destroyed. In fact, he behaved as though all of this merely slowed down whatever it was that he had planned, and that he had the power to bring his wife back when given some time. Whether this was what happened once you had been dead long enough, as if his compassion had rotted away or if it had just been the personality of this individual all along, but it did not sit well with Gawain. It did not sit well with him at all. Whatever the deal here was, there was just something inherently wrong about the man that seemed to carry the most weight by far within these catacombs of a dungeon.

“Say, before we start up the theatrics, would you mind indulging me for a bit? These Spears you’ve killed so far, their leader Hadrian, were you aware of what the church did to them? What am I saying, of course you do not know. Why would they share the story of their greatest shame with their underlings. I know I wouldn’t. Still, I feel you should know the people you work for.”

The fact that this man was fully aware of what had been going on within this dungeon made him feel as though it was he who had been communicating with them through some of the zombies from before. More than that, it seemed as though he had been watching them ever since they had entered, perhaps by using the undead in some way. Whatever the case, it proved that this was not someone they would be able to catch off-guard as he had seen their magic and their physical prowess, yet chose to not be afraid of them in the slightest. And that was troubling, as Valo was a good deal stronger than he himself was. And if that did not manage to impress this man, he did not know what would.

“Though I’ve forgotten how long ago it was, I wished to overthrow the church leaders of that time. I felt they were abusing their position and bullied the poor and the rich alike into paying off their lavish lifestyles with promises of salvation. I admit, the lengths I’ve gone to to ensure their demise was… perhaps depraved in some ways, but the ends always justify the means, as our religion teaches.”

With the lich continuing to narrate the story he wished to impart upon the two of them before he went into the ‘theatrics’ as he called it, the more he spoke, the more clear it became that he had no idea how long he had been down here for. That was, aside from knowing it was a long time ago. That said, the man also seemed to have a decent idea as to right and wrong as he could not fully condone his own use of some kind of a demonic artifact which he had planned on using against the church in order to liberate it from the people that were trying to get rich off of the faith of the masses. In more ways than one, Gawain could honestly see why the man had decided to do what he had done. And since they were different times back then, maybe simply talking it out had never been an option. Regardless, the figurative shit had well and truly hit the fan. That much stood as a rock above water.

“After all, what is a demon’s tool other than a weapon left behind by a misguided soul… Alas, when I requested the church’s cardinals and pope to step down, originally through debate, they tried to silence me with their Spears. However, the tools I required made silencing me… difficult, and a lot of people lost their lives. Good, innocent religious folk. The spears you see down here, they put their lives on the line to stop me and my people, only to be stabbed in the back by their own, their corpses left to rot down here with us to keep word from getting out and spreading like wildfire.”

The story was a horrible one to hear, though having to live through it was more than likely a whole lot worse. For both parties. But the truly unforgiveable thing here was the fact that the church leadership of that time had condoned the killing of their own warriors as a means of keeping the story from getting out. To kill your own people who had fought and risked their own lives for the church and for the faith, only to get stabbed in the back after surviving whatever ordeal they had been through down here and be discarded off within the same mausoleum. To have to rest on the cold hard soil with the same people which you had killed, the enemies of your faith, and eventually be revived into unlife in a shared hatred for life. It felt like a horrible thing no matter how you wished to look at it.

“Could you imagine if people had known? If the good folk of Clover knew of the error of their church, and knew of the true gospel? They will, you know. For once we are done with you, I will bring back my wife and her incubation project. Through the demonic rot, we will spread the true gospel to all of Clover, Spade, Diamond, Heart, Skjaergard, to every corner of the world. And once all are connected, all will turn to me, Geraint, as their true Messiah! I WILL SAVE THIS WHOLE WRETCHED PLANET!”

While the man had managed to hide it well for the first part, when he finished his speech, it was quite clear that this lich had completely lost his mind. To throw the entirety of the world into rot and decay and make himself out to be some kind of messiah or demi-god proved that there was nothing to be done here aside from complete and utter destruction of all enemies. Not quite sure how all of this sat with Valo, Gawain knew that he was no match for this creature. This was the kind of foe Valo would need to deal with. That was, if he still had the energy to deal with all of them after dispatching most of the previous room by himself. But the man was an archmage, and some level of expectations came along with that status. So when various fallen Spears appeared along the massive mushrooms that grew along the walls, prepared to attack when given the order, it seemed that fighting and killing was all that remained.




WC: 2829
Room WC: 1984
Total WC: 14395