Champion, Chapter 60: Dyed in Scarlet

New month means new Patreon plug! Starting this month, I'm going to be making a stab at writing full-time. It won't be happening until halfway through (plans changed), but starting on May 15th, I'll be committing 40+ hours per week to writing, as opposed to the current 8-16. A lot of that effort this month will be spent paying down my accumulated proofreading debt (fixing errors in the story that have been reported but I haven't had the time to fix) as well as planning future plot arcs, but chapters should start to speed up again by the last week of the month.

In addition, I'm going to be spending a portion of my time finally getting my second story off the ground. Chapter 1 of that is already available and the plan is to have chapter 2 up before the end of the month, with subsequent chapters coming out at least 1-2 per week. My eventual plan is to release 2-3 Paths chapters per week (we'll see what's sustainable) and 1-2 chapters of Essence of a Hero per week (again, depending on what my sustainable writing rate ends up being).

Final announcement for today is that I've commissioned two new pieces of artwork, official portraits for Brighid and Aoife. You can see the Brighid portrait right now over on my https://discord.gg/ZhHre4y and the sketches for the Aoife portrait on Patreon (if you're a Patron).  These portraits were voted on by my Patrons at every step (choosing the characters, choosing the artists, choosing the poses, etc). I'll be commissioning more art in the future, so if you want to contribute, join up! And for those who don't want to/can't afford to, and who don't want to join the Discord (it's free!), don't worry, I'll be posting Brighid's artwork here the next time she shows up. Aoife's artwork is of the more risque variety, so it'll be limited to Discord/Patreon only, unfortunately.

AidanThe RealmsFifthday, 2nd week of the 10th month, Age of the Chosen 1Mid-MorningThe Labyrinth, First Stratum: Viridescent Treetops

Aidan staggered to his feet, gritting his teeth as the movement sent a spike of pain through his head. Ysbail and Labhruinn were already moving to intercept the boss, and he couldn't spare the time to check on Wulfryn or Sunnild. His combat log showed that Rakkatorak was still taking damage from the modified Magma Blast, so Aidan pushed it into Crown of the Exalted. His headache eased somewhat but lingered as a dull throbbing around his temples.

Rakkatorak reared up, balancing itself on its rear legs and tail, and roared loud enough to shake the climbing Devouring Spawns from the arena's walls. The sound was accompanied by a wave of palpable anger and hatred that drove Aidan back down to his knees. Sickly greenish-black energy congealed around the immense monster, filling in the cracks in its shell and taking the place of its missing pincer and tail-mace.

The boss fell forward with a crash. The earthquake-like impact widened the cracks in the floor left by Aidan's magic; sheets of red-hot lava spurted forth, showering down all across the battlefield. Aidan instinctively knew that, even if he canceled Magma Blast, the effects on the environment would stay. They had to finish the fight quickly before the whole room was engulfed.

"Enough is enough!" declared Ysbail. She flared her own Aura, gleaming defiant gold and white. Unlike Rakkatorak, who covered its entire body in its Aura, Ysbail concentrated hers along the leading edge of her oversized sword until it was too bright to look at. "Everyone stay back and deal with the little ones. I have Big Ugly."

As soon as the words left her mouth, Ysbail swung her sword, carving an incandescent crescent in the air that shot forward toward Rakkatorak. Aidan remembered her firing a blade beam before against the dragon Karsarrym, but this was an order of magnitude more impressive. A gleaming, eye-searing streak connected Ysbail and Rakkatorak, followed by a boom and a wave of heat.

When Aidan managed to blink away the afterimage, he saw Ysbail engaged with the Primeval. Unlike earlier, she fought without any care given to defense. Even as he watched, Aidan saw Rakkatorak smash its Aura-claw into Ysbail, only for the Adventurer to turn with the momentum of the strike and cleave a chunk of obsidian-hardened carapace off the overgrown arthropod's head.

"Come on, get up!" A hand grabbed Aidan's armpit and tugged at him. He looked up; Wulfryn was leaning back, doing her best to pull him to his feet all on her own. "Sunny needs you!" she insisted.

That got Aidan's attention through the painful, foggy sense of dread that clouded his head. He stood up with Wulfryn's help and looked around for his lover. Wulfryn, perhaps noting his distress, took him by the shoulder and pointed him in the correct direction.

Sunnild stood amid a pile of insectile bodies and limbs, blood trickling along her arms and legs. All around her, dozens more enemies struck out with tooth and claw. Her wings sliced and deflected and blocked nine attacks out of ten, but there were just too many foes to handle. Even the black cat that Aidan spotted leaping from shadow to shadow, slashing and biting, could only save the harpy from some of those that slipped through.

"Why aren't you helping her?!" Aidan asked even as his hands started moving in the familiar pattern required to cast Burning Barrage.

"Even I have limits!" Wulfryn snapped back. "There are hundreds of these things, and I had to protect your helpless ass!" An inky black tentacle whipped across Aidan's peripheral vision, snatching a Spawn out of the air and hurling it somewhere out of sight. He looked around and realized that he was standing in the middle of a circle of seething shadows. A legion of Spawns charged heedlessly to their deaths for the merest chance to get their tiny claws on him.

"...Sorry," Aidan muttered, then, louder, "Sunnild, Riama! Cover up!" As soon as he saw the metal-feathered harpy duck and cover, he unleashed his spell. A split second later, a dozen explosions shattered the ranks of the foes advancing on Sunnild. Bodies—mostly in small pieces—flew through the air, spattering around the arena for dozens of feet in all directions. As soon as it was safe, Sunnild popped back up, then staggered backward a step, weaving woozily.

Aidan didn't waste any more time. He ran toward Sunnild, casting Flame Jets with both hands and spraying the area around her with a liberal dose of fire. Then his tired brain finally caught up to something that had been tumbling around in the back corner of his mind since Wulfryn explained the Arboreal Devourer's weakness. With a curse, Aidan drew his sword and activated its special ability. Immediately, the blade began to glow yellow-white and project a cone of light from its tip. A cone of sunlight.

Aidan swung the blade around in an arc in front of him, bathing the onrushing swarm in its light. The instant a Spawn found itself illuminated, it shriveled and curled up on itself, leaving behind a smoking corpse. Still they came, a mindless horde intent on swallowing them whole. Aidan made his way to Sunnild's side and started healing her injuries, never letting up on the light show all the while.

Some amount of time later—Aidan's rational mind was certain that only seconds could have passed, but his memories made it seem like ten minutes or more—a terrible screech filled the air. A heartbeat later, Rakkatorak's oppressive Aura faded, followed by the thud of a twenty-ton body collapsing to the ground. As eager as the Devouring Spawns were an instant before, they reversed their advance, fleeing the arena like so many cockroaches.

Once he was certain that his position was secure, Aidan turned to see what happened with Ysbail and Rakkatorak's duel. His eyes widened at the sight that met him. The Primeval was dead, yes; its head and both pincered arms lay separated from the bulk of its thorax.

Ysbail, however, was scarcely in any better shape. Her chain armor hung off her in tattered, ruddy strips, soaked in dark red blood. The Adventurer leaned on her sword, grounded point-first in the rocky floor, her sides heaving with each labored breath. That alone would have been enough to concern Aidan since he was certain Ysbail knew better than to grind her blade's edge away like that. The fact that she was literally laying in a pool of her own blood made that certainty an afterthought, however.

Aidan's eyes snapped to the side, examining his party interface. If he couldn't see her breathing, he would have thought she was dead by her Health bar. Only the closest examination revealed a sliver of bright red remaining. Shaking himself free of his shock, Aidan hurried over to her, pulling out a pair of health potions on the way.

"Jesus, Ysbail," he exclaimed, "what the fuck happened?" Aidan had never seen her this put-upon. The Taig's dakhols hadn't hurt her much, and even Karsarrym, brief as that encounter was, had only knocked her around and given her some bruises.

"You pissed it off," she snickered. "Turns out it really did not like being covered in fire. Thanks, boss," she added, tossing down a healing potion. Aidan wasn't sure if her thanks were ironic or serious. Probably both, he decided.

"Everyone, gather around; my healing is more effective in a group."

It took a few moments for the others to gather, then Aidan summoned his Golden Fawn and started up a Pulse of Life. The little deer made for Ysbail straight away, nuzzling her and licking at her wounds. Sunnild collapsed against his side, whimpering as the pain from her broken rib washed over her. Aidan hugged her and took the time to examine the prompts that were waiting for his attention.

Aidan blinked at Language of Origin, read it twice, then filed it under, “to discuss with Ailis later while under multiple layers of secrecy.” He’d expected something like that to come eventually, but this exceeded those expectations rather dramatically. The rest of the notifications were pleasant, but unsurprising.

A quick glance over at Sunnild confirmed that she'd received similar rewards; she was level 15 now. Letting his gaze sweep over the others, he found Labhruinn and Wulfryn, neither of them suffering from serious injuries, poking at Rakkatorak's corpse. Working with practiced skill, they butchered the body, prying loose immense sheets of chitin and collecting bundles of spear-sharp legs. The grand prizes turned out to be the intact pincer and the still softly glowing head of the massive monster's tail, although the latter had to be wrapped up in a bundle of chitin to contain its acid.

After the pair decided they had everything of value from the corpse, it and all of the massacred Spawns vanished in a wave of foul-smelling, rainbow-colored smoke that gathered and coalesced into a familiar loot orb. Wulfryn looked at it, then turned to Ysbail, her eyes wide and a pleading expression on her face.

"Go on," the centauress laughed, waving a hand. Wulfryn squealed in happiness and darted over, laying a hand on the gray sphere. It popped an instant later, sending a pile of treasure clattering to the floor. Aidan couldn't make out everything from his vantage point, but the excited noises coming from Wulfryn brought a chuckle to his lips as well.

After spending a few excited minutes poring over the loot, Wulfryn jogged back over to Ysbail. "It is mostly coins, gems, and crafting materials," she reported, "but look! A spellbook! A Darkness Spellbook!" The harpy mage showed off a slim tome with night-black pages and a cover made of dark gray slate.

Riama sniffed and stuck her nose up in the air. "Some queen of darkness she is! She should already know everything there is to know, were she equal to her claims."

"I think it is safe to lay claim to that as part of your share, yes," Ysbail smiled. Technically, Aidan could use it too, but there was no need to crush the girl's dreams. "Was there anything else of interest?"

"Um," Wulfryn scanned the list in her hand. "A matched pair of daggers, a magical coin of some sort, three rings, two amulets, and these." She held out another three books. "Skill books, but I am not sure which skills."

Aidan perked up at that. "Skill books? Like spellbooks, but they teach you a skill instead?"

Wulfryn turned to him, cocking her head as if he'd asked a strange question. Then she nodded. "Yes, although you need to have enough affinity, and they are consumed when used even if you cannot learn from them."

Aidan nodded. "I see. Well, who knows? Maybe they'll be useful."

Wulfryn wrinkled her nose. "You can gamble if you want, my Lord Aidan. I will take my share in something I know will be useful."

Aidan smiled, doing his best to keep it from becoming a smirk. "Fair enough. I'll see what the skills and jewelry are before deciding my share. And don't worry about taxes for this run, by the way."

That earned him a smile from Wulfryn. Riama interjected to puncture his swelling sense of smugness, however, with, "Why are you feeling so happy? Your mate is badly wounded, and you did not do enough to protect her. You had better make it up to her if you want to give her kittens."

Aidan turned to his familiar and shot her a pulse of <exasperated confusion>. "What is it with you and children, anyway? You keep pushing me to get Sunnild and Aoife pregnant."

Riama rolled her eyes at him. Aidan didn't even realize that cats could do that. "You are a strong male. They are receptive females. It is your duty to give them your kittens so that the family grows, as is proper." Along with her statement, Riama sent her own <confusion over a question that has an obvious answer>.

Aidan shook his head and sighed. He'd add that to the list of things to handle later. Right now, all he wanted to do was return home from the Labyrinth, safe and sound with everyone accounted for. It seemed like Ysbail had the same idea, as she shifted her weight and rose back up to her hooves. "Come on," she said, "let us see what waits below."

Aidan stared at her. Her armor was so badly damaged that Aidan could see her belly and one bare breast. Blood was matted all throughout her fur and caked onto her skin and armor. She was visibly tired.

"What?" he asked.

"What?" Ysbail parroted back. "Do you have no sense of adventure?" She grinned at him, then chuckled and waved away his incredulous stare. "Ah, I am just having a bit of fun with you. I talked to your advisor Sarpedon some; each new stratum has a link back to the entrance hall. It will be faster and safer to head down than it would be to retrace our steps."

"Oh," said Aidan, relief washing through him. "Alright then, lead on." He climbed back to his feet and helped Sunnild do the same, then assisted in gathering and securing the loot. A few minutes later, the party headed toward the back of the arena and down a set of carved stone stairs. The stairway continued for what felt like a dozen flights before it opened out into a new room.

Aidan's breath caught in his throat. The first stratum had been something close enough to ordinary in appearance—odd for a dungeon, perhaps, but trees were something he saw every day—that he hadn't thought much of it. This was different. They were in a cavern underground, that much was clear, but it was no dark, damp, barren place.

The entire chamber was smooth. Not smooth in the way of worked stone, but rather like it had once been a riverbed. The cave's curved walls were lined with glittering clusters of crystals, each a different shape and shade of red. Even more impressive, a glowing column of some translucent mineral illuminated the farthest corners of the space. The pillar pulsed and dimmed with a slow, steady pace, not unlike a beating heart, causing the room to light up in a shifting sea of scarlet.

"Now that is a sight for sore eyes," breathed Labhruinn.

"And our exit," added Ysbail. "That column should take us out of here; all we have to do is touch it with a will to leave."

"It's almost a shame to go," whispered Sunnild, peering around with awe plain on her face.

"Do not be fooled," Ysbail warned. "It is beautiful, but this stratum will be more dangerous than the one above. There will be time to explore it later. For now, we should return, rest, and recover."

None of them could argue with that, so, one by one, they stepped up to the glowing pillar and placed a hand on it. When the last of them did so, the world around them shimmered and distorted, only to be replaced a moment later with the Labyrinth entry hall in Caer Macht.