Chapter 7 Deus Ex Machina
Ashley took two running steps forward, triggering the tripwire they’d ignored to save time. Nox tumbled free of her grasp, cartwheeling twenty paces forward until his bleeding arm gave out. I’m so dumb. Thought Nox, recalling his earlier haste. This dead end was longer than twenty two paces, but as a dead end there was no logic in wasting their limited time exploring it.
“Oooooffff!!” Nox exhaled, breaking his fall with a backpack full of C4.
His eyes flew open, falling across Ashley’s figure. Panic filled her eyes as her leg stopped midstride, caught by a fine silk thread. She hit the floor. Time slowing to a crawl. As her chin encountered cold marble, knocking her senseless.
Nox watched as any chance of Ashley’s survival vanished.
Please not again!
Ashley’s unfocused eyes wandered towards the right wall. Her body felt weird, sluggish, as if she were a passive observer. She could tell her face was on equal footing with the base of the wall, so the floor hadn’t collapsed, but something was moving. It wasn’t her, or the floor. Her eyes lolled up the wall, lazily noticing the even stonework. No hidden spears here. One final thought occurred to her before the world went dark, ‘why are rocks floating?’
All hunters skidded to a halt when Ashley tripped. Taylor slipped, dropping sword and shield next to Ashley. He flailed, catching himself and stepping back, away from Ashley. Save her you idiot! Thought Nox.
Noticing Taylor’s upward gaze a moment too late. There was no time left to cry out and order Taylor to save Ashley. A dozen boulders formed in the air above Ashley, her impending death.
An even darker thought occured to Nox. What if the only thing I can change is how we die?
‘Hehehe. Twelve lil hamsters fighting against two lions.’ Laughed the Miasma demon.
Nox’s retorting thoughts were interrupted by a half shrieking squawk. Leathery wings whooshed overhead, beating against the air with all the armored pseudodragon’s might. Yet it’s heavy scales dragged it forward, turning the wyvern’s greatest defense into faultless momentum. Too little, too late. The wyvern’s silent snatching strafe connected with a dozen boulders, erupting into a blue supernova as scales shattered mana geodes.
Decelerated by the rocky surprise, air whooshed around the pseudodragon, crashing the wyvern’s lift to zero, and sending the creature headfirst into an ensconced dead end. Bone crunched, stone buckled, cracks spiderwebbed across polished marble.
Evidence of the Wyvern’s impact. Nox did not hesitate. Freeing himself from Jesus, he plowed through Taylor to reach his sister. Blood dripped from her nose, but she was breathing. Relief flooded his neuroreceptors, making him giddy. So happy he almost kissed her. Yeah right. Thought Nox, hoisting Ashley onto his shoulders.
“Kill it now!”
Jamal’s spear sailed through the air, breaking through the sound barrier with a tutu of white vapor. Propelled by Jamal’s talent and three buffing mages the spear slipped between ruffled scales and into the creature's neck. Jesus chased the spear, running up the monster’s back to leap –shield first– into the spear, driving it through the front of the wyvern’s skull. His blade flashed twice, cleaving the wyvern’s wings with his own talent.
Taylor and Jon joined the fray, thrusting blades into the scales at the base of the creature’s skull. If Jamal’s spear hadn’t crippled it, their blades did. They worked their swords back and forth, sawing between scales and vertebra until the creature’s head fell free. Jesus mirrored their actions on the tail, severing the wyvern’s stinger, and shattering his sword.
Cackling laughter filled Nox’s mind. ‘HAHAHAHAHA! I guess that rock drake had a rocky day!’ Howled Miasma man, his laughter never ceasing as he spoke.
Have you been living under a rock? That isn’t funny! Thought Nox.
‘Aha! Good one!’
At that moment Nox wanted to facepalm more than he wanted to breathe. But with Ashley in his arms all he could do was close his eyes. Annoyed by Miasma’s sheltered sense of humor. “Just shut up.” Nox growled, entirely fed up with his mental stowaway.
Soft wingbeats caught Nox’s attention. Wind rushed by his face, alerting the kill team to another dreadful surprise. Alighting on the far wall a second Wyvern surveyed the damage. An angry tomato flicking from its headless mate to the mana geodes. Jamal readied the goblin spear, moving to shield Mary-sue and praying that the wyvern wasn’t smart enough to rush them while their talents were recharging.
Please Jamal, don’t throw unless you know you’ll kill it. You have our only weapon.
Jamal held his breath, waiting for his moment to strike. Yet, for better or worse, it never came. The wyvern let out one ear-bleeding shriek, then pelted them with hot air propelled by hasty wingbeats. It rose above them, flapping hard to ascend above the kill team in ever widening circles. Nox’s therapy enhanced senses allowed him to track it longer than the others, something Jesus took notice of.
“Which way did it go?” Asked Jesus.
Nox shrugged, not wanting to confess, and knowing he must. “It’s still up there, circling above us.”
Jesus sucked air through his teeth. “We need to clear this maze, and soon.”
His words communicated the obvious to the lower ranked hunters. This wasn’t a C gate. They were in critical danger. Juvenile wyverns or thinner boned types were c ranked monsters, but armored wyverns were closer to dragons, with intense physiques, poison stingers in their tails, and more armor than anyone could pierce. Jamal’s toss had been lucky, the geode spawn had been a miracle, and the kill team had been impossibly fortunate to walk away from one wyvern without casualties.
Now a second wyvern could be hunting them, assuming it held any emotion resembling love in its cold draconic heart. But Jesus el fidelis would ever allow his team to despair. Instead he settled into giving orders, sharp instructions to distract from the looming threat. Within moments Taylor and Nora were carving into the wyvern’s chest to retrieve its core, a grizzly task all hunters eventually became desensitized to. Back in basic training the Corps made them butcher goats and pigs to help familiarize them with how a knife sawed through flesh. And to familiarize themselves with the scent of blood. Then they started planning their next fight.
Backpacks were strewn haphazardly around the floor, unpacked in a flurry of MRE’s, red filtered TruefireTM lights, winter clothes, and bundles of C4. Besides the weapons in their hands the hunters sported an Mbar each, five customized daggers with hopelessly low mana capacitance, the wyvern’s tail stinger (freshly extracted), and a second spear for Jamal. As for guns, there was Mary-sue’s custom AK, a pair of 1911 pistols –a weapon designed nearly two hundred and fifty years earlier– for Jon and Taylor, with Jesus carrying a Sig P320, Lala and Zoe both carried surplussed M4 carbines. Rifles that may have been used a century and a half earlier in WW3. Though the hunters filled their magazines with goblin tooth rounds, a misnomer for bullets that were 3D printed using a composite of hard monster bits such as bones, teeth, scales, and claws, and copper alloys. Once the printer completed a bullet it was swaged by automated hydraulic presses, or precisely smashed into a final shape. The cheapest and least effective rounds one would risk entering a dungeon with. Mana crystal rounds were more effective, but far more expensive, meaning Mary-sue and Jesus were the only ones with any number of them. All told, their weapons were suitable for an E ranked dungeon and practically nothing here. How am I going to kill a school bus sized bovine with anger issues? Thought Nox.
“Man, I would give my left nut for an Abrahms right now.” Blabbed Jamal, leaning on Mary-sue.
“Too bad the military doesn’t trade in beans.” She answered.
Her joke lightened their mood, they had beaten one wyvern. Maybe they had a chance of surviving. Jamal made a face, but pulled her tighter, trying to maximize her passive talent, or because he enjoyed the close embrace of an attractive woman. Nox picked up a brick of C4, then froze. Pinpricks of blue mana crystal were sticking out of his hand, glowing softly. Arcing a lightbulb through his brain.
“Boss, you served in the Sapien army before activating right? Ever make an IED with mana crystals and C4?” Asked Nox.
Jesus grinned, his canines extending past his bottom lip. “Sure have, but it’s a terrible idea. Like the worst idea I've heard all night! Mana crystals are kinda like batteries, they sometimes discharge electric pulses, it aint as strong as a detonator but they’ll pop your pinata.”
“Got a better plan?” Snapped Nox.
Nora stepped forward, using the back of her palm to push her glasses onto the bridge of her nose. Ignoring her bloody fingers. “I do. We can send you on top of the walls.”
“What! Are you trying to get me killed?” Gasped Nox, stunned by Nora’s directness.
She flushed pink, “Oh! No! Nothing like that! You’re the only one who can see the wyverns without light!” Nora answered immediately, holding up both hands palm forward in apology. “Nox, you’re doing great! You finally activated the Venator gene and- uh… I’ve been timing everything. You took five minutes to diffuse the first few traps but now you are doing them in less than thirty seconds! It’s incredible!”
His heart soared above clouds on wings of Nora’s praise. Throughout the dungeon his body had felt the same, without any physical differences. But the traps were getting easier and easier, maybe it really was more than the massive therapy overdose… Maybe he finally had powers. Something that could finally change his circumstances. Earn enough to buy mom’s therapy and be strong enough to keep his family safe. Or at least stop being the family fuck-up.
“You’re great, but…” Nora continued, making his heart stop as she tapped on her watch. “It took us three or four minutes to get back here, and we passed this dead end three hours ago.”
A collective groan rumbled through the dead end, Taylor and Jesus rubbed their temples. Yet, Nora had more bad news for them.
“Your marker hasn’t faded, and the traps you triggered haven’t reset…” Her voice trailed off.
The implication did not need to be stated aloud. They were leaving a trail. We are painting a road for the minotaur. All it would take is the boss crossing one of the cleared traps and he would be in our rears within minutes. A literal bull in the shitter.
“The boss is already hunting us. If he heard the wyvern hit these rocks, then he’ll be along shortly.” Jesus said.
There was no other choice. Time was running out. Nox dropped his pack, retrieving another vial of the expired gene therapy and emptying another 10ml into a vein. Nausea rolled over him, overwhelming his senses. He could taste bile rising in the back of his throat, hear hearts beating around him. Red tinted his vision, darkening the world beyond comprehension. Nox felt everything slipping away, mind falling into a tar pit of miasma.
‘Hehehe, you did ask for one tenth of his power, but didn’t specify how I would grant it to you.’ Chuckled Miasma man.
“Stupid kid, don’t overdose on us now! Nora, heal him now!” Ordered Jesus.