Death Smith - Book 1 - Chapter 19

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With friends like these

Several hours ago.

February, 14 AR.

Inside Rift 7.

“The count of Monte Cristo,” Lance said, offering his thoughts on the matter.

“Dirty Harry,” Thomas said proudly, answering Matt’s question of what the greatest movie ever was. In Thomas’s mind, he was the clear winner.

Matt smiled, realising that he did not need a sociology degree to see that there was a clear connection between the two of them. One of them liked to plan out things and did not like sharing his past, while the other wanted nothing more than to be a ‘badass’ and stand out. “Good choices, although I would have gone for Rambo, Thomas,” Matt said, leaning backwards against a comfortable dirt heap that would function as a chair.

Thomas got up, shaking his head as he did so. “No way. Just the presence alone of the gun Dirty Harry uses is enough to beat Rambo.”

“I think a machinegun would beat a handgun, not to mention the downsides that go along with revolvers,” Lance said, no doubt already regretting his words as he noticed Thomas getting worked up.

Slowly, Thomas pointed at Lance, using his right hand to mimic a revolver. “Bam,” he breathed softly, as if winning the discussion in that moment alone. “There are more factors at play in terms of a fight. Style, intimidation, and elegance. All of it is important. Sure, five or six rounds have their limitation, yet it also makes it far more… intimate. Each round that is chambered would carry a clear meaning, a specific task… an oath that demands to be fulfilled,” Thomas said, drawing the eyes of both Lance and Matt.

“That… That is… deep. You surprised me there, Thomas,” Matt said, shifting his gaze towards Lance and nudging him in the side as he continued. “Lance, you told me Thomas had the intellect of a bucket with a dent in it. Yet look at him now,” Matt said with a smile that was both disarming and teasing.

Thomas gave Matt the bird as he shifted his gaze towards the surroundings. The Rifters had established their new base right near the Rift-event. A large host of monsters had guarded it, but the Rifters had driven them out in one fell and concentrated surprise attack.

The base was situated on a small island in the middle of an underground river. There were several ways to reach the island, from smaller rock formations that stood out above the water, to an improvised steel bridge that the Rifters themselves had created.

Large mana stone formations dotted the rocky ceiling, casting the entire chamber in an extraordinary blue light. The chamber was quite spacious, easily dwarfing any of the others they had explored, including where they had started. At the centre of their camp was the Rift-event, giving off an intimidating pulsating feeling when you got close to it. Around the event were stacks of resources that the Rifters had collected, most of them neatly spread out or already secured in one of the many crates and boxes they had brought with them. Protocol dictated that the Rift-guardian should be subdued, not killed, allowing the Rifters enough time to collect resources and maximize their profits. Should the guardian accidentally get killed, they would at least be able to grab the materials they had already prepared and packed. No matter these strange lands, monsters, and creatures, this was still just a job for these Rifters.

Thomas noticed Grace in the distance heading towards them, leading a group of three porters and four fighters with her. She, like the rest of the Rifters, was by now a hybrid between man and dirt. She clearly took care of her weaponry and armour, but things would build up after two weeks of roughing it out in a Rift. Seeing her make a straight line towards them and not one of the other porters or fighters meant that Lance and himself were up next for excavation duty.

Nearly every Rifter here respected Grace because of her leadership, ability, and her higher level. Those that had doubts before had them shattered when they watched her at work two weeks earlier. Her class as a Mage and a unique skill set made her an incredibly proficient wielder of fire spells. Most had seen these skills at the beginning of this Rift or those before, yet inside a place like this Grace could truly shine.

Small cavernous tunnels became death traps for monsters when Grace threw large streams of fire and heat through those tunnels. Some tunnels turned into ovens that incinerated everything, while other tunnels turned into smoke-filled nightmares. Grace did more work in those two weeks than most Rifters could do in several Rifts.

“Lance and Thomas,” Grace said as she reached the men, an emerald tinted gaze inspecting the porters before she continued. “I want you to grab your gear and join squad B. You are to take the northern pass and collect a bit more coal if you can find it. If not, tin, copper, or any other metal beyond iron. We have more than enough with all these steel beams lying around. Understood?” She asked, waiting for both to nod before she left them and the other Rifters.

A few moments passed as Lance and Thomas equipped themselves and double-checked their weapons before they joined up with the fighters and the porters.

“All right, gang. Let’s head out. Hopefully, we run into something fun along the way. I am bored out of my mind,” one of the Americans, Connor, said as he led the group across the makeshift bridge and towards their task.

* * * * *

Thomas clenched his jaw, both upset and in awe at what was happening. His steel shield and pickaxe were at the ready yet were unused. During their excursion towards the northern tunnels, they had run into several of the Cave-goblins. At first, it seemed like it was going to be a tough fight, seeing as they had seen Matt fight them and struggle against them, but the reality was rather different.

The four fighters in squad B were holding off the goblins with relative ease. Each fighter was several times stronger than Matt was, and it showed. One of the Americans, a man named Connor Moore, was keeping most of the goblins at bay. His Warrior class skills allowed him to draw the aggression and attention of many of the monsters. Anything that came too close to him ended up hacked to pieces by the axes that he was dual-wielding. His large build and charismatic nature had ensured that he had quickly taken the role of ‘squad leader’ during their task. Thomas felt both drawn to him and irritated. Connor’s blue eyes, blonde hair, and chiselled jawline were all just a tad bit too perfect. That Connor was the brother of a high ranking American Rifter only made his claim to leadership that much stronger.

Those that dared skirt past Connor would have to face the Frenchman. While some goblins wore crude iron armour or carried improvised shields, the Frenchman knew just how to take advantage of a small crack in their defences. The man went by the name of Louis Vidal, a former French sniper. His skill and experience with a rifle, coupled with his Class as an Archer, essentially turned him into a grim reaper in these tunnels. He usually used a bow when fighting the wolves but switched to a compact rifle when facing the armoured goblins. Using ammunition was expensive, yet with the amount of skill Louis displayed, he made every bullet count. He was perfectly suited as support, seeing as picked off the biggest threats, allowing the other fighters to maintain their advantage.

Both Connor and Louis stood out the most, with the other two fighters appearing quite average. One of them was a fighter by the name of Steve, whom Lance and Thomas had known from some earlier Rifts, while the other was another American. Unlike Connor, she mostly kept to herself and did not bother to introduce herself. Still, Lance had overheard Connor address her as Kira at one point. From what Thomas could figure out, Kira and Connor already knew each other in some way before this Rift.

‘At this level, I can only stand here and watch,’ Thomas thought, seeing the four fighters slowly push back and pick off the goblins one by one. Lance and the other three porters were busy, dragging some of the fallen goblins to the side and removing their armour, weaponry, and their Rift-shards. The latter was always a tricky thing. The Rift had fused these shards with the body of the monsters themselves, having arteries pass through it in certain areas, infusing the blood with Rift-energy that spread throughout the body. No matter how skilled a porter got with extracting these shards, they would always end up covered in blood and gore. Luckily for Thomas, Lance was on shard duty today.

“They are retreating!” Connor yelled as the remaining goblins slowly backed off, using their shields to protect themselves from the incoming fire. Before long, their tactic turned into a mad dash, rushing to the place where the tunnel would split off into several other pathways. He then looked over towards his teammates to see how they were doing before he said, “We need to follow them now that we have the advantage.” His voice was calm and composed, but the look in his eyes spoke of an eagerness to prove himself.

“Connor, we can’t. The side passages lead to terrain that the scouts have yet to explore,” Louis said, reloading his rifle as he moved towards Connor.

“Yeah. And besides, we are on an excavating job, not a hunting one,” Steve said, rubbing his shoulder that had taken a beating during this encounter.

Their words of wisdom seemed to fall on deaf ears. Connor was determined to push the party forwards, to sate himself in the fight and the prestige that came with it. “Come on, guys. You all noticed how scared and wounded they are. It would only take a few minutes, tops. Worst-case scenario, we find others or run into unstable terrain. In both cases, we would simply head back and share the intel with Grace and the others,” Connor said, as he watched the other fighters one by one.

Kira simply nodded once, while Louis was hesitant for a while, but finally agreed when Connor placed a hand on his shoulder and whispered something in his ear. Steve was the only one that voted against it but agreed to help when the other fighters voted to go on. They simply gave the porters the order to follow and keep quiet, not even giving them the chance to vote on the matter. Thomas felt an uneasiness about the whole affair. There was something in Connor’s eyes that made Thomas hesitant. He had seen that look before in individuals that were led by dreams of glory. These kinds of people were uncaring about whether their ambitions would burn up anyone near them or not.

Thomas noticed Lance stand there silently, no doubt lost in his thoughts. Placing a hand on his shoulder, Thomas smiled warmly. “Get out of that head of yours. We'll be fine. Besides, if we play our cards right, we might get away with grabbing you a decent shield from a goblin,” Thomas said, whispering at the end.

The group then began moving again, with Connor leading the charge as they followed the trail of goblin blood that would lead them into the unknown.

* * * * *

“Lance, stay behind me,” Thomas said, fending off two Cave-wolves with his shield and keeping a goblin at a distance with his pickaxe. He had lost count of how many monsters they had already killed, but it came at a steep price. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, seeing as everything was happening at the same time. Two porters and the fighter, Steve, were already dead. Lance and Thomas had stuck together as best as they could, but they were against overwhelming numbers.

“You are bleeding,” Lance said, pressing against Thomas’s shoulder to help him keep his position and not get pushed backwards by the monsters.

“Everyone is bleeding!” Thomas snapped. Things were bad… terrible even. Lance’s lower level would make him a liability and he did not have a shield to defend himself. Beyond that, his condition was quite critical. Lacerations covered Lance’s arms and the thick iron armour he wore had large dents in several places. “Just stay behind me,” Thomas said, grunting as he felt another arrow nick his shoulder, further sapping his strength.

The fighters and porters were defending on all fronts on unfavourable terrain. They had run into an ambush when they had chased after the wounded goblins, finding several near a tunnel that led to a large, cavernous space. Shortly after that, they noticed additional monsters. A large group of wolves had surrounded them while more and more goblins came pouring in to reinforce them, several of them carrying bows and arrows and taking up positions on higher ground. In a matter of minutes, the monsters had blocked off their way of escape. The only way out was to fight their way through or fall off the sides of the cliff and into certain death.

There were too many monsters to fight on all sides that it became a matter of when they would get wounded or killed. When the first porter fell because of a stray arrow, the balance of power quickly changed. Had it been just the initial enemy force, the fighters might have been able to subdue one side and get the porters out before they were all surrounded. Connor could have made that decision, yet his pride chose for him when he spotted a heavily armoured goblin that stood a head taller than its brethren. It was a clear sign the creature was a Rift-guardian.

Connor’s greed and pride had forced the party to engage on all sides instead of retreating when they still had the chance. A goblin archer had killed the first porter while wolves had dragged off the other porter. Steve had taken out a fair share of the goblins before more had ganged up on him, stabbing and pushing at him until they all lost their balance and fell off the edge, falling into the darkness of the cave until the unforgiving hard rock claimed their lives.

Beyond the devastating loss of life, the three dead also meant that the defence became significantly harder. Although all three remaining fighters were experienced veterans, their Health, Stamina and Magicka were slowly getting chipped away. The Frenchman was a mess of sweat and minor injuries while Connor’s once impressive armour appeared stained in blood and dirt. Kira looked winded but showed no actual signs of any injuries beyond a slight cut on her leg.

‘This isn’t good. It is only a matter of time before they overrun us,’ Thomas thought, watching Connor bash the Goblin-leader against his helmet, knocking it off to the floor.

The sight of their leader getting injured appeared to halt the goblins for a few seconds, as if waiting for their leader to recover and give them the command to attack. Although the small moment of respite was welcome at first, Thomas quickly noticed the shift in the fighter’s behaviour. Earlier, they had spread out to cover all their sides, but now they moved closer to one another.

‘No! They wouldn’t,’ Thomas thought, seeing Kira talk to Connor as the man shook his head several times before he went still. Then, almost in slow motion, Connor glanced around him, inspecting the horde of goblins, the fallen porters, and finally making eye contact with Thomas as Kira made her way over to Louis.

Thomas could only shake his head, pleading with Connor. He couldn’t utter any words, fearing that it would only hasten the betrayal. He watched Connor tear his eyes away from Thomas and the other porters before Connor, Kira, and Louis suddenly began slashing, bashing, and shooting their way through on one side, surprising the goblins. The sheer brutality and surprise tactic allowed them to retreat yet left the remaining three porters stranded.

“No! Wait!” Lance shouted. The other porter suddenly rushed towards where the fighters had retreated to, hoping that he could escape with them. He barely made it ten paces before a dozen weapons and claws tore him into pieces.

“Lance… Lance!” Thomas said, nudging Lance in the ribs to get his attention. “Hold on to my armour and don’t let go,” Thomas said as he placed all the Attribute points he had gained from levelling during this battle. All of it went into strength as he activated his skill ‘Bullrush’ to increase his strength, straining his muscles that could barely contain all the power flowing through it. “Hold on!” He shouted before he suddenly sped forwards like a projectile.

Although not on a par with the speed of Daniel or Dieter, the sheer increased strength Thomas displayed was enough to overwhelm mere goblins. He used his shield as a ram to push several of them to the side as he rushed towards the goblin leader. He slammed into the monster with enough rage to mimic his fiery hair. Before the monster could counter, it found Thomas’s pickaxe slammed into its shoulder before Thomas activated his skill again.

‘Bullrush,’ He thought, feeling his muscles straining to the point of nearly ripping. His joints felt inflamed and were protesting, but he ignored it. The large monster came to a halt right at the edge of the cliff as it howled at its brethren, ordering them to attack Lance and Thomas. Before the monsters could intervene, Thomas activated his skill again, this time pouring nearly all he had in one last attack.

“Bull… Rush!”

The last thing the other goblins heard was the defiant roar from Thomas as he forced the goblin leader, himself, and Lance off the cliff and into the abyss.

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Author: Osirium

Copyright: 2021 OsiriumWrites

Released: 2021