NOVEL NEXT [V2] Chapter 14: Undaunted
The faint echo of footsteps slowly began to fill the chamber, bouncing off the darkened stonework with no great haste, as Blychert and the rest of the group braced for whomever might reveal themselves, be they friend or foe.
"Announce yourself!" Nazojan's burly voice cut through the sound of those approaching quite suddenly, "You who would dispatch of another man's ward so readily, I shall know your names."
Bodies shifted nearby in the darkness, as the sound of footsteps quieted, and then ceased altogether. Bly could hear the wary breaths of a few of his groupmates next to him in formation, and the sound of his own beating heart that could have just as easily been in his own throat, given the intensity of his pulse. Even still, Bly endeavored to maintain his focus, despite his own levels of weariness.
"Is that you, Naz?" A muffled voice, almost as if obscured behind a mask or a helmet of some sort, replied in kind. Upon the question's conclusion, a bright sphere of luminescence rose into the air, filling the chamber with light once more. Shadows licked every surface thereafter, twisting and contorting as the ball of light rose to its final, stationary point. Thus, a small party of four individuals, each as equally geared as the next, was revealed.
Several gasps and a few unintelligible murmurs escaped the lips of Blychert's group, whether intentionally or not, the moment the newcomers became visible. Bly squinted curiously, unable to discern for himself who any of these people were.
They looked formidable—their weapons and armor alone spoke to that—seemingly carrying themselves with no great worry or weariness of any kind, not like Blychert and his group. If these newcomers had come from deeper in the dungeon, then it certainly didn't show.
A tall figure donned from head to toe in the most brilliant blood-red armor stepped forward. The braided, horsetail-like tassel dangling from the back of their helmet shifted slightly as they walked, though their face was otherwise completely hidden behind but a few slits for eyes.
"Nelkaar?" Nazojan grunted, almost as if amused by the proceedings, "I thought the Undaunted were scheduled for inspection patrol? Don't tell me you've been caught up in this mess as well?"
"Hm? Are you referring to the shifting event?" Nelkaar's helmet lifted slightly, a confused tone of voice. Blychert was pretty sure it was a woman's voice, but it was too hard to tell still. Glancing over their shoulder, the Nelkaar seemed to confer with the robed man on her left shoulder for a moment, before turning back to say, "Yes, we were on the seventh floor with the inspection team, when the event on this floor began."
"Shifting event?" Taren grumbled, "The hell is she talking about? That wasn't any damned shifting event. We were four floors up! How could we have felt a shift that happened on this floor?"
"Maybe there were multiple instances of the shift?" Ilhrae offered a logical response, "It's not the rarest thing for floors to shift simultaneously."
Merlind shook his head, "I don't think that's it. The dungeon's aura is off; I can't quite put my finger on it… sage doesn't seem to have much of a response either, so this must be within the dungeon's normal parameters. Right?"
Blychert tensed, immediately uncomfortable by the earth mage's deductions.
Several of the others seemed to agree with Merlind though, not that Bly was entirely certain what a shifting event was. He distinctly remembered Xander explaining that the Silver Vault was prone to changing its layout, but that didn't exactly explain why the wayshrine had taken them to a random location on the sixth floor of the dungeon, when they'd been on the second floor.
Then again, a room that wasn't even listed on the dungeon map was also a pretty big concern…
"How did you come to the sixth floor?" Nazojan replied promptly, "Did you take the seventh floor wayshrine, by chance?"
"Indeed, as soon as we got word of the event." Nelkaar nodded, "It is routine to search the dungeon for injured delvers after a shifting event. But… you already know that." Nelkaar paused for a long while, her undiscernible features practically piercing Bly and his entire group where they stood, before she added in as calm a voice as ever, "Nazojan, there's something you're not telling me. Isn't there?"
Blychert flipped through his sage terminal aimlessly, re-reading his spells for what must have been the hundredth time in a row by now. The mood of the chamber had shifted drastically over the last few candle marks. Though they all waited for Nazojan and Nelkaar to conclude whatever it was they were having a heated but ultimately muffled argument about, a massive weight seemed to have been lifted off the shoulders of the motley group with the arrival of the Undaunted.
Not that Bly had any idea who they were before now.
It was during the lull, and only after Ilhrae had kindly explained in a few short words, that Bly learned the members of the Undaunted, collectively, were the strongest assembly of adventurers in all of Calvergia, making the Undaunted the top-rated party in Frostwall. With not a single one of them falling below twenty-fifth level, it stood to reason that such a claim was true. Falco insisted that Nelkaar was nearly fortieth level, but Merlind reasonably remined him that she had only reported thirty levels with the Adventuring Hall as of the previous spring.
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Whatever the case, they referred to her as the 'Champion of Frostwall' which meant she was a hell of a lot more powerful than all of them, Bly especially so. But together? Bly had no idea what combat at that level was even supposed to look like.
"What's your name, kid?"
Blychert dropped his gaze unexpectedly from his sage terminal, glancing up at the individual now standing over him.
He was one of the Undaunted
Bly recognized him as the one Nelkaar had glanced over to speak with for a moment. He couldn't have been too much older than Xander though. Maybe early or mid-twenties. He wore a sleek, lightly armored robe in the colors of gray and blue, and Blychert recognized the distinct holster slung around his neck that kept a large grimoire of some kind firmly nestled in place.
He must have been a wizard, because Bly had only ever seen that class cast its spells from written words.
"…Me?" Bly asked dumbly, regretting it the moment it left his mouth.
The other man chuckled, "Well, I wasn't asking the dungeon. Though, I suppose I could try…"
"Trelen—" Bly groaned, stranding his feet posthaste. He readily offered a hand in greeting, "Uh, Trelen Veil. Sorcerer."
"Sorcerer, eh?" The man furrowed his brow. He rubbed at the ends of his well-groomed beard momentarily, seemingly inspecting Bly for a moment, "What level are you? Didn't realize Naz was so desperate he'd started recruiting teenagers."
Blychert flushed. The whole 'kid' thing people seemed all too happy to throw in his face all the time was really starting to rub him the wrong way. Okay, maybe he didn't always make the wisest decisions, per se, but he was getting better! Shaking his head, Bly said, "I-I'm almost level ten, thanks for asking. And I wouldn't go that far either, saying I was recruited. I already have a party, you know…"
The man laughed brightly, clasping Bly once on the shoulder, "I'm just messing with you, don't worry. And don't give me that look. I swear, you and my apprentice have the same exact temperament."
"Apprentice?" Bly asked skeptically, "Who even are you?"
No way a guy like this had an apprentice! But then, he was supposedly pretty strong…
"Where are my manners, the name's Jhannrick." The man gestured towards himself, "Water mage. Although, strictly speaking in terms of specializations, I'm more of a blood mage than anything else. But that's just semantics, truth be told."
Woah. Bly thought. He'd never met a blood mage. Frankly, he wasn't certain blood magic was even allowed in Greygarde, much less legal. Curious at the mention, and more than a little interested in seeing if he could learn anything like that, Bly asked, "So… you teach blood magic?"
"Don't even try." Jhannrick dismissed with a wave of his hand, "My arrangement to teach was by necessity alone, and I am certainly not taking any other students."
Blychert rolled his eyes, what a waste!
"Even still," Jhannrick said more thoughtfully, "The sixth floor is a dangerous place for a ninth level spellcaster. How are you holding up? How's your mana pool? You should be drinking plenty of water, it helps with mana saturation in the body's blood supply. I bet you didn't know that."
Bly cocked his brow amusedly, "Doesn't that count as you teaching me blood magic? Might as well keep going."
"Hm… clever." Jhannrick tousled Bly's hair. Blychert couldn't help but be reminded of most of his interactions with Irvin's older brothers. There was something both brotherly and humiliating about it, and he couldn't decide which was more present.
"What's this I hear about teaching blood magic?" Nelkaar's voice interjected, and the armored warrior approached from Jhannrick's righthand side.
"Nel!" Jhannrick exclaimed, "You need to have a word with Naz, and tell him he's not allowed to be dragging kids down into the dungeon to do his grunt work."
"You might tell me yourself." Nazojan replied, stepping into view from Jhannrick's lefthand side, "…Wizard."
"Alright." Jhannrick shrugged, "You're not allowed to drag kids down into the dungeon to do your grunt work."
Nazojan grimaced in response, but didn't say anything.
Bly had no idea whether or not they were friends or utter adversaries, but he found it to be somewhat encouraging that given their situation, everyone seemed to at least be in high spirits. Perhaps that was what having a high-level party to come and save you did for morale. But then, they weren't out of the dungeon yet. Were they? Blychert had to remind himself of that, and to remain vigilant for any sign that things in this dungeon were even remotely like the experiences of his past.
"I am afraid the circumstances are not what they appear to be, Jhannrick." Nelkaar replied in a calm tone of voice, as she slowly moved to take off her helmet. By the pale glow of the light spell burning in the middle of the chamber, Nelkaar revealed her face at last, and Bly's eyes widened.
"You…?" He mumbled.
It was her.
She was the woman he'd met in the tavern on his first night in the city. Tall and pale, beautiful beyond question, with long black hair tied back and the richest red eyes he'd ever seen.
"It is good to meet you again, Trelen." Nelkaar smiled faintly, "I am glad to see that your ambition truly burns as bright as I imagined. Nazojan tells me that you, above all else, have done everything within your power to defend your allies."
"Well, uh—I mean…" Blychert felt way too warm all of a sudden. He couldn't help but notice the conveniently smug grin on the guardian's face either, but composed himself enough to say, "Yeah, of course. It's what I'm here for. Right? I might not be as powerful as the others, but I'm pretty good with what I've got."
"I am glad to hear it. And we are going to need all your strength, Trelen." Nelkaar nodded. However, her smile turned and sobered into an expression of deep resolve, though unquestionable worry. Carefully, she placed her helmet back over her head, and pulled it down across her face, leaving only the vision of a crimson warrior, "So, if we may trust one another now, at this very moment, then it is my belief… that we will leave this dungeon together. Now come, let us steal ourselves away from this wretched place. For if we cannot go back, then we must dare to go forward."
Blychert couldn't help but stand in awe as the red-armored woman stepped away with Nazojan and Jhannrick in tow. Despite his worries about what was at play here, despite his shortcomings in a place like this one, he felt momentarily emboldened by those words, as if some hidden magic in them had bolstered his own resolve.
This was the aura of an experienced delver, the charge of a master swordsman.
This was the leader of the Undaunted.