When the trailing force saw their quarry halt, they pushed forward again. There was no comparison between the two drow now leading the way, and kobolds who had harried them to that point. It was only the work of moments before they cut down one and then two of the defenders. Alan tried to push his way back to help out but the others in the back were just as eager to avenge their fallen brothers.
While he couldn’t engage them himself, he still tried to help. A series of carefully timed orbs distracted the two drow enough to prevent them from landing potentially fatal blows. The effectiveness of his spell was waning, however, and he didn’t think he could use that trick effectively again. His next contribution was taking out his small crossbow and aiming for their thighs.
Alan wasn’t sure the bolts would be able to penetrate their chest armor and their arms were moving too much for his poor aim. His first shot had been at one of their heads, but they must have had some way to detect lethal attacks and they easily avoided the bolt. That was why he was aiming for their legs, hoping it might limit their mobility.
One of the elves took two shots to the same thigh and it seemed like the strategy was working. While the dark warrior on the left was still pressing the attack the one on the right had been forced onto the defensive. The dwarf facing him was still unable to get his axe past the shining sword, but he no longer had to contend with counterattacks.
The dwarf, Alan didn’t know his name, must have become frustrated, because he launched a sudden flurry of blows. The series of cuts must have drained his stamina, but it was enough to finally break through the net of steel the drow had put up. His large axe blade slipped past a block and buried itself in the elf’s chest. With his stamina drained the dwarf didn’t even have the energy to withdraw his weapon, and it was pulled from his grasp as his opponent fell. With no weapon and no stamina, he would be helpless against the next opponent to come forward. Alan pulled him back and stepped into his place.
On the other side of the tunnel, the dwarf there also took the chance to switch with the fighter behind him. The fighting had been going on long enough that these transitions had become second nature. Unfortunately it was not smooth enough in the face of the skilled drow.
The defender had raised his hammer to block and then angled his body to allow the warrior behind him to slide into his place. When he turned, though, it caused his hammer to shift ever so slightly and the shining sword slipped into that opening and stabbed him through the heart. The dwarf’s armor didn’t help deflect the blow at all, it went through it like a fork through a pancake.
His collapse also disrupted the fighter who was stepping into his place, allowing the drow to slice him across his chest. This blow, while possibly fatal, was not instantly so. If they could pull him back, one of the healers could possibly help him before he bled out. With his sword ready to deflect the elf’s, Alan pushed forward with his shield and managed to knock the drow back.
A small gap between the two opposing forces had formed, and Alan and his opponent were at the center of it. He had already identified this drow as a Swordster. While that was not very informative of what type of fighter he was, it did let Alan know he had at least an opal class. Watching him fight he also knew that this man was a skilled warrior who moved almost as fast as he did.
Alan’s only advantage was that he had a shield to go with his blade and his opponent only had his sword. This gave him some options when it came to blocking and dodging attacks. He was also ‘fresh’ while the elf had partially burned through his stamina to take down his two opponents. They exchanged a series of blows, but neither fighter was hit. Again they closed and Alan took the first strike on his shield while thrusting with his gladius.
The buckler Alan was using was already pretty beat up by this point, and the shining blade took a chunk out of the edge. Meanwhile, the drow bent his body around Alan’s sword so smoothly, he put the most graceful dancer to shame. Alan prepared to take another swing when the tunnel started to dim. A previously unnoticed kobold priest had been waiting to contribute to the fight.
The shadows grew, forcing both Alan and the drow to pull back since neither could see the other, but then the darkness suddenly condensed and pushed itself into Alan’s body. He had previously been impressed by the dwarf who had endured this attack and stayed on his feet. Now that he was facing the same effect, he realized he hadn’t known the half of it.
The shadows weren’t entering his body, they were pushing into his aura. Instead of the bright, potent energy that normally flowed through his pathways, the shadows were turning it into a dark sludge. The power that normally entered into his body from his aura was cut off and he found his movements becoming sluggish.
A sudden instinct had him raising his shield again, and he heard the clang of a sword being blocked and felt the impact tingling up his arm. The force of the blow almost sent him to his knees without his now normal strength to resist it. Alan had to do something to rid himself of this taint or he was going to die.
He didn’t really understand how the attack worked, and he could only think of one thing that might help. If the energy was simply corrupting what was in his pathways, maybe he could dilute it, or even flush it completely, by flooding his aura with more power. Similar to what he did while cultivating, he increased the flow of his energy.
The corrupted sludge that was his aura began to move. It was nothing like normal but it was an improvement. Another sudden urge caused him to raise his gladius, just in time to deflect a blow from his chest. The blade slid along his own before the drow managed to redirect it slightly and Alan felt a stunning pain as the blade sliced through his bicep. He somehow managed to hold onto his sword, but the taint in his aura grew. It was as if the blade had fed his body more of the corruption.
With no time to dilly dally, and nothing to lose, Alan pushed harder on his soul. Where before the energy was flowing from his source like a firehose, it was now exploding out like a tsunami. His aura could barely contain the power and the turbid energy that had held him back was blasted away. Previously he had felt like he had lost all of his strength and speed, but now he felt more formidable than ever.
His bicep was still cut and he couldn’t attack well with that arm. Instead he used some of his precious mana to heal the wound and lashed out with his buckler. The elf clearly thought he was dealing with a defeated warrior, and was not ready for the edge of the buckler to strike him in the head. The chunk that had been cut out previously left a jagged edge that ripped the drow’s ear off.
At the same time a dwarf behind him had a real crossbow out and sent a thick bolt into the kobold priest, dropping him. The scream of pain from the disfigured drow was cut off, as Alan’s newly recovered arm allowed him to strike with his gladius, nearly severing his head. A spray of blood gushed from the mostly separated neck, drenching Alan with his vital fluids.
With another chunk of his mana, he sent a large firebolt back at the kobolds. It blasted across the first two rows and the rest backed up, giving them a gap of almost ten meters between the two forces. Alan bent down to collect one of the glowing swords but found it lodged under a couple of fallen bodies. He wasn’t sure how that was possible since it should be on top instead.
He started to push the dead aside to retrieve it but some of the supporting fighters behind him started to tug on him and urge him to take a break. Alan slipped free from their grasp and faced them.
“I just want to grab one of those swords first, give me a moment.”
When he turned back, he initially couldn’t find the sword. A moment of searching was enough to relocate it, but when he tried to get to it again he was once more interrupted. A small group of kobolds in the front suddenly took out their small bows from somewhere and started firing at him.
“Alan, the dungeon is telling you that you cannot have the sword. If you keep trying to get one, it will only increase the danger.”
It took him a moment to place Tamee’s voice. She usually didn’t talk to him during dungeons, fearful of somehow breaking a rule or possibly distracting him. That shiny steel so close was calling to him, but he remembered an earlier warning she had given him. Dungeons would sometimes put up barriers from delvers who tried to take too much. In this instance it didn’t seem fair since he was simply looting from an attacker, but it's not like he had someone he could argue that point with. Instead, if he persisted in trying to get to the sword, the dungeon might try something drastic to distract him.
Reluctantly he allowed his fellow fighters to pull him back behind a couple of solid looking dwarves who had taken out large tower shields. He took a quick inventory of himself and saw his mana was almost empty but his stamina was at half and his health was almost at full. Being able to heal himself really was a cheat. It was another few seconds before he realized his soul was still pouring energy into his pathways at an incredible pace.
Looking inside he could see signs of strain in his pathways and he quickly tried to lessen the flow, but his soul wasn’t paying him any mind. He hurriedly told those around him he would need a minute and sat down in the lotus position, his weapon and shield returned to his ring. Next he calmed his breathing, which wasn’t easy because his aura was starting to cause painful sensations in his body.
In through the nose, hold. Out through the mouth. Repeat. Again and again he forced his breathing to calm and his heart finally started to slow. The energy was still exploding from his soul, but now his physical-self was settled. Alan next sent his thoughts back to that place where his aura met his soul.
Pushing his mental energy through that connection point of his aura and soul was like trying to swim up a waterfall, but if there was one thing Alan had in abundance, it was stubbornness. He sent his presence through, clawing and scratching for every little gain. Finally the soul was there before him, pulsing with power.
He pictured his hands gently resting on it, not pressing, just reassuring it with his presence. Then he sent calming thoughts down his spiritual arms and out through his fingers. At first there was no change, but then slowly the energy started to wane. Soon it was down to a normal cultivation level, but he kept pushing serenity into his soul until the flow was back to its standard level.
With an exhale he allowed the flow to push his mind back out of his soul and into his aura. These weren’t physical pathways, yet he could see signs of the incredible strain they had been under. If they had endured the heavy flow any longer, they might have ruptured, but he could already see signs of repair. Thin spots were being reinforced and areas that had been stretched dangerously were actually expanding to increase the reach of his energy arteries. Maybe this could be turned into a good thing.
Similar to how he would fix his pathways after an increase in his stats, he set about assisting with the repairs. He began with the areas where the pathways had almost burst. He tried scraping nearby material to layer onto the thin sections, but then he wondered if there was another way. One that didn’t take from elsewhere, weakening the entire area.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
An unintended side effect of the overwhelming power that had flooded his pathways, was that his mana had been refilling at almost double the normal rate. This meant he had some he could spend. He cast a healing spell, but rather than letting it spread out through his body, he gathered up all of the healing energy. He had become better at directing where the power flowed, but this was an order of difficulty harder to do.
The next part he had no idea how to accomplish, so he just let his instincts guide him. Instead of directing the energy to an injury in his body, he sent it toward his aura. It seemed like it wasn’t going to work until suddenly the healing energy shifted and began to flow through his pathways.
There must have been more damage than he realized, or this process was incredibly inefficient, because the first spell’s power was quickly used up. He cast it again and was better able to transition the healing to where he wanted. The walls of his aura thickened and straightened and he somehow knew that his body would be more powerful than it had been before.
He wasn’t thinking of doing this again intentionally, after seeing the damage he understood just how close he had been to rupturing his aura, but he was enjoying the benefits now that it was over. It was like a month of cultivation in just a few minutes. Now that he felt like his pathways were fully healed, he finally opened his eyes.
Alan found that he had been moved while he was meditating. He must have been more focused than he realized if someone, or several someones, had managed to pick him up and carry him down the tunnel, while he was still in the lotus position, without him noticing. He was surrounded by some of the escaped prisoners.
The first one he was able to focus on was Parina, and next to her was Cassidy. The other escapees were giving them a small bubble of personal space. At the moment, fear was the overriding emotion he saw in everyone’s face.
“What’s happening?” Alan asked. His voice felt raw, like he had been screaming.
Parina was the one who answered, “A couple of Dwarves carried you here since the kobolds were attacking the rear again. It was so weird, they said your muscles were locked tight so it was like carrying a statue.”
“Why did we stop, what’s going on in the front?”
It was a female dwarf who took up the next part of the story, “There’s another group of kobolds in the front, keeping us from getting anywhere. When they first showed up the fighters at the front almost managed to push them back, the kobolds must have been tired from running to get in front of us. Then two dark elves stepped in and stopped our advance, giving their minions time to recover.”
A bandaged dwarf in armor gave Alan a more recent update. “Those two were tough, they managed to stop our push and then they let their lackeys take over. They were still sitting there watching when I got hurt. The healers are still at the back so they slapped this on me and told me to take a rest.”
“Thank you, I’m gonna head forward and see what I can do,” Alan paused, realizing he needed to do something to give these people hope. “We are close, everyone, if we can break those in front of us, it should be a short trip back to safety. Be ready to move!” He cringed on the inside even as he turned toward the front. This is why his captain never let him make speeches.
While it was no half-time talk, it seemed to help for some. Their eyes lost a little of the terror and they held themselves straighter. Alan was about halfway through the refugees, so he had to push past many to get to the front. When they saw who was jostling them, they quickly made way. Some even reached out and touched him as he passed, as if he was a good luck charm or a symbol of their hope.
The clash of weapons picked up as he approached the fighters in the vanguard. These were exclusively dwarves. Most of the reinforcement group that Kespar had sent was dwarves, so that they wouldn't have trouble seeing in the darkness. There was a mass of kobolds holding the last thirty meters of the tunnel, and more in the abandoned village beyond that. At first Alan couldn’t find the drow, but then he spotted their pale forms standing on the crumbled rock wall looking over the fight.
Being the tallest fighter around, not counting the distant elves, was a novel experience for him. He had a great view of what was happening. Similar to how they were fighting in the back, the dwarves were set up shoulder to shoulder in several rows. Here the cavern was wide enough for three fighters to face the enemy at a time. It looked like all of the fighters who had been positioned throughout the column had made their way to the front or back. If they weren’t moving, and they had solid rock to their sides, there was no point wasting the warriors' strength away from the combat.
Thadrick was near the front, standing in the second row. Everyone was covered in blood, but there was no way to tell if it was theirs, or the enemies. Alan checked those around him for serious injury, but it appeared they were holding out well here at the front. The kobolds weren’t making much of an effort, content to simply hold them in place while the army in the rear tore into them.
Unfortunately for the evil monsters, the kobolds in the back had lost their overseers and were also not making much of a push. Of course that wouldn’t matter if the group couldn’t break out. Eventually they would exhaust themselves and be cut down. They needed to get moving again. It was time to see just how many foes they had to break through.
Their only hope was that the force in front was limited, and they could cut them down and continue their march. The exhaustion the enemy had displayed initially was strong evidence that it was difficult to get ahead of them. Alan felt confident that if they could get past this former village they would have little to fear. It was only a couple of hours from here to the dwarven camp and they were much farther from the kobolds base.
With a mana pool that was almost completely full he decided to send some fire bolts into the pack of dragonkin. These weren’t maximum power, but they were big enough to blast two or three kobolds each. The sudden panic from behind them caused the monsters at the front to falter. The dwarves, on the other hand, used that moment to cut their foes down. Then with a crispness that would make the Romans proud, the second line stepped to the front and cut into the disorganized resistance.
Thadrick’s axe was cleaving kobolds in two and they started making headway toward the tunnel’s end. The drow in the back sensed the turning of the fight and started making their own way forward. Alan took the chance to check out what was headed for them.
Nallus: Drow, Fighter, Threat level: high
Mertar: Drow, Fighter, Threat level: high
His relief was palpable when he realized these were not as dangerous as the ones he had fought before. All of the others had been rated as extreme danger and had opal classes, the classes of these two suggested they were still at the quartz level. Alan wasn’t going to get too confident, though, they still moved with a confidence that suggested this was not their first fight.
Alan himself was now in the second row of fighters, on the opposite side from his friend. He wanted to be up front, ready to face this new threat, but it wasn’t his place to pull the other men back. They had been holding this line for a while, and Thadrick had command of the front. As far as these dwarves were concerned, he was just another fighter.
The drow finally reached the front and the dwarves’ advance ground to a halt. These two were not the equal of those who had attacked the rear, but they were still deadly opponents. Only the dwarves strong armor, and the fact that it was three on two, allowed them to avoid taking any wounds in the first exchange.
As they continued to press the frontline, Alan used a prismatic bolt to give them an advantage. Thadrick’s opponent, Nallus, stumbled briefly from the rainbow explosion and took a nasty gash from the dwarf’s beautiful axe. It didn’t put him out of the fight, but it was bleeding freely and would soon cause the elf to slow.
Then the lines were switching again and it was time for Alan to take his place in the first line. The dwarf in front of him swung his sword to push the other drow, Mertar, back and then turned sideways while taking a step back. Alan turned to face him and took a side step forward, leading with his buckler so he could block if his opponent tried to take advantage of the exchange. It was well done, and in under two seconds Alan was facing forward and the tired dwarf was moving behind the second line to catch his breath.
Unfortunately the exchange in the middle did not go as well. When Mertar had been pushed back he had used it as an excuse to position himself just so. When the front dwarf stepped back and the other stepped forward, the drow thrust his left hand out and cast a spell. Thin ropes shot from his fingers and bound the two dwarves together. A follow up slice with his blade sent both of them tumbling to the ground with large gashes on their arms.
The dwarf who had replaced Thadrick had his hands full with the wounded Nallus and couldn’t cover the downed pair. Nothing fatal had been done to them yet, but it would be a simple matter for the experienced fighter to finish them both if Alan did nothing. In a repeat of the move that had proven successful in the back, Alan charged forward with his shield to push Mertar away from the prone duo.
He was able to move the elf away, but it forced both of them off of the frontline and Alan ended up in the front row of the enemy, flanked by kobolds. Another dwarf had moved to take his place behind him, and the two bound fighters were being pulled back and tended to. The dwarven line could hold for the moment, but Alan was on his own if he wanted to get back to safety.
Now it was decision time. Did he focus on the biggest threat while suffering the attacks of its minions, or take out the weaker foes quickly so that he could then have his full attention on the dangerous elf. Because he was using his gladius and a buckler he decided to take a middle strategy.
Using the shield in his left hand he warded off the blows from both enemies on that side while striking out at the kobold on his right. This creature had some skills and was able to deflect his first thrust. A riposte by the creature forced Alan to dodge, and he mistimed a block with his buckler. Instead of deflecting the drow’s sword using the side of the shield, Mertar’s blade hit the center and Alan had to absorb the full force of the attack.
To make matters worse, the elf’s blade was engraved. His sword didn’t shine with an enchantment, instead, runes of the side of the blade glowed briefly as he sent mana through the carvings. Alan didn’t recognize them from his limited experience with engravings, but his shield made an ugly clanking noise when the sword hit. Alan stumbled backwards a few steps, but used the altered attack angle to slice into the right kobold. He was momentarily blinded by a spray of blood to his face and tried to blink away the fluid. This type of fighting was messy.
With his eyes momentarily useless, his aura senses were left to fill the gap. He wasn’t able to tell exactly what anyone was doing, but he could identify where creatures were by the presence of their auras. He still had a little space between himself and the other two, but he sensed a sudden surge of energy moving to the left hand of the drow.
This was Alan’s first time experiencing this sensation, but he instinctively knew Mertar was about to cast a spell on him, probably the same binding spell he had used earlier. Unable to see properly as the blood still coated his eyes, he didn’t think he would be able to avoid it. The only chance he saw was to disrupt the formation of the spell. Alan cast his light bolt, blinded, yet totally focused on the location of the growing ball of mana forming for the elf.
While his light bolt spell had seen a reduction in the amount of mana it used, another major improvement was in how fast he could cast it. Before those magical ropes could be formed, his light bolt streaked out from his shield hand and hit the still congealing ball of earth mana. He was hoping to simply disrupt the formation of the spell, but what he got was so much better.
When the two mana types converged, there was an explosive feedback similar to what Alan experienced when trying to modify his spells in the tower. Different mana types did not play well together. The drow was blown back off of his feet, and knocked into several kobolds who all collapsed on the ground. Unfortunately it also meant that his aura senses were overloaded at the moment, and he missed the kobold, still standing on his left, attacking.
A sudden tingling of danger gave him some warning, but it was nothing more than a direction. He was able to slightly move his already out-thrust shield to try and block, but the battered piece of equipment wasn’t up to the task.
Unbeknownst to Alan, Mertar’s sword had an engraving that could damage the integrity of arms and armor. The poorly crafted buckler had already been damaged from his earlier fight, and the force of the kobold’s blow hitting directly on the missing chuck on the shield caused it to crack and split. The blade continued down that crack and sliced through Alan’s arm. Even though their scimitars were not in the best shape, he had already noticed how sharp they were, and it easily cut through his bone. His left hand, still grasping the shield, was sent flying through the air and the buckler clipped the side of his head.
Between the pain of the injury, the shock of losing his hand, and then the sudden blow to his temple, his brain was overloaded and he collapsed to the ground, his vision going dark. The last thing he saw was booted feet stepping up around him.
