Chapter Twelve

Thanks to the amount he’d forced into Sharpen, his Mana Pool wasn’t anywhere near full, which meant he needed to end these fights quick if he wanted to benefit from Alacrity the whole time. Mixing buffs was the whole point of his build, so balancing them was a very important skill. With that in mind, he ducked the lazy swipe of one of the Drakes and delivered three lightning quick slashes directly to the base of its’ neck where the scales would be thinnest. The several foot long, alligator-like creature screeched as the magically enhanced edge of Will’s scimitar sliced through the scales like they were made of soft clay, and with the third blow its’ head drooped as its’ spine was severed.

Drakes were the runt-sibling of Dragons, with scales that weren’t anywhere near as tough and a fighting ability mostly dependent on their size and raw power. He danced away from the other two Drakes in the room, a pair of mighty jaws almost closing around his ankle as a heavy claw swiped past the area where his torso was a moment earlier. Power coursed through him from Alacrity, blending with the battle euphoria to fill him with a sense of unbeatable strength. Another few quick swipes perfectly dispatched the second Drake, and he pulled himself into a flip instinctively when the final one went to shred his chest with its’ claws. Gleeful laughter tore its’ way from Will’s throat as he dived back in and cut the Drake into three separate pieces, not even sparing it a second glance as he sped through into the second room.

Another Drake fell almost immediately, trying to leap forwards and close its’ jaws around Will’s throat, only for him to casually step to the side and behead it in one heavy strike. That one actually made his arms ache, slightly, so he leapt towards the others as a whirlwind of short, quick strikes that scored bleeding lines across their large reptilian hides. Mana running through his veins like lightning kept Will one step ahead of the huge lizards as they snapped and clawed uselessly, slowly being bled out from the dozens of gashes he’d carved across their bodies. He tripped over a rock as he back-pedalled away from a joint offensive of two Drakes snapping at him from either side, but was able to regain footing and push forwards the kill the third.

He cackled as the final two charged him, waiting until the last possible second to dart out of their reach and cut one of their fore-legs from their body. Blood gushed from the stump as he leapt over the wounded Drake and drove a powerful Sharpen empowered slash into its’ head. The final Drake managed to claw him, but between his Endurance and the Ogre-Hide armour it felt more like a punch than a tearing wound. He wobbled slightly then renewed his assault, and continued into the next room.

As a tank, Will had never really been able to benefit that much from buffing Spells in a fight. Maybe a buff to his Endurance, sure, but it was always the damage dealers that got the stacked buffs and tore through enemies like paper. Much as he’d always idolised swordsmen and regretted his build taking him away from the art, he’d always been jealous of people like John who got to have half-a-dozen Spells layered on top of them before any fight. He’d once watched John, under the influence of 3 different buffs, fire a heavy war-bow with the speed of a sub-machine gun and absolutely decimate an oncoming Goblin hoard. Now, as the powers of Sharpen and Alacrity worked together to keep his attacks deadly and his dodges perfectly timed, he revelled in the feeling.

His Mana Pool was draining, but he didn’t care. He had more than enough time to handle these final fodder Drakes, and once the Denmother was down he wouldn’t need buffs for her guard. Absently, he disabled his Soul Anchor and felt a previously reserved section of his Mana re-enter circulation, just for good measure. Now, his blade actually crackled with the sharpening energy as he danced between six sets of jaws and claws delivering crippling blows with every swift strike of his sword.

In what felt like only a few seconds, he was stood in the centre of the room surrounded by another six Drake corpses, and he fixed the opening to the final room with an eager eye.

The first sign something was wrong was the lack of a Denmother guard. The Denmother herself, 15 feet long and seeming to fill even this extra-large cavern with her sheer bulk, roared at him as he entered and he watched fire spark at the back of her gaping maw. That was normal, and he dodged to the side to avoid the burst of flame that followed. But, as he ran around the edge of the room to get an angle on the monster, he noticed that the usual Drake who sat in the room and assisted its’ progenitor was absent. That meant his knowledge of the cave wasn’t totally accurate, and threw the whole plan into doubt.

His Spell reinforced body was easily able to keep up with the huge beasts’ attacks. Though it did surge around the cavern with surprising speed given the size of the creature, the Denmother was built for overwhelming force and not agility. Her fire blasts would scorch the flesh away from his bones, but even without Alacrity he could have probably stayed ahead of them. Leaping over a huge claw, he kept panning his view around the room hoping to see the reason for the lack of guard. His distraction cost him, as the Denmother whipped its’ tail around and managed to send him careening to the floor. His bones cried out in pain as he bounced off the cold stone floor twice before sliding to a stop and forcing himself back to his feet. He tried to dash in and deliver a cut to the Denmother’s exposed stomach, but she crashed herself back down and he had to change direction to avoid being squished underneath the huge form.

Now things were getting dangerous. He kept dodging, landing glancing blows but not being able to hit any vulnerable spots even with Alacrity boosting his speed. The Denmother was tougher, faster and stronger than he had expected it to be. As he realised that, having to bend backwards to prevent his head being torn from his shoulders by a powerful bite, he finally saw the reason there wasn’t a Drake guard in this room. Lying at the back edge of the cave, shrouded in shadow, barely twitching to show it wasn’t a corpse, was the ruined form of another Climber.

“Shit!”

Will shouted as he felt the heat of the Denmother’s fire breath on his back and lashed out with his scimitar to prevent her following up with a claw attack. If there was another Climber in here who hadn’t yet died or Cleared the scenario, the encounter would have been adjusted for their presence without him realising! The Denmother roared again, seeming to grow even larger in the cavernous space and lunging towards him so fast his Alacrity-enhanced legs screamed with the effort of dodging.

His mind raced almost as fast as his body. He kept up the pace of his movement, willing his Mana Pool to hold firm even though he was already reaching the time he’d expected to complete the cave. He couldn’t drop Sharpen and still hope to get through this monsters’ toughened scales, and without Alacrity he’d never dodge her long enough to deliver a finishing blow. He had to end this fight before he ran out of Mana, even though he’d begun to take minor wounds from the blows he couldn’t totally dodge and was starting to feel the drain on his Endurance sinking in.

The timing on this other Climber couldn’t have been worse. They’d failed to clear the encounter long enough ago that the Drakes in the early rooms had respawned, but not long enough ago to have died and let the final chamber do the same. It hadn’t spawned extra Drake guards as it would have for a 2 or 3 person encounter normally, but had inflated the Denmothers’ Stats to compensate. He cursed the Tower and its’ mechanics, blood spraying from his back as he paid for a risky attack by taking a huge claw. He slammed to the ground again, rolling out of the way of a tail slam that would have smeared him onto the cave floor, and stumbled to his feet. The Denmother kept coming, seemingly unphased by the wounds he’d managed to deal thus far, and it took all of his focus to keep ahead of her flurry of attacks.

“Vial…”

The word was spoken with a croaky tone, almost inaudible in the cacophony of the cave, but piercing through to Will’s ears nonetheless. Eyes widening, he dashed towards the injured Climber, who was apparently still conscious.

“Vial...here…”

The Climber was missing an arm and a chunk of the torso, wizard robes similar to those of Okembe having been turned into scraps of fabric and huge burns swirling across the body of the incapacitated figure. Will wasn’t even sure if the Climber was a man or a woman, but as they feebly gestured a shredded hand towards a small silver vial that had rolled just out of reach, he snatched it up eagerly.

The Denmother sent a burst of flame in their direction, and Will had to grab the injured figure and lunge backwards to save them both from being immolated. As they hit the floor, the figure groaned in pain and said a final word before falling unconscious.

“Throat.”

Will broke into a sprint again, drawing the Denmother away from the injured Climber and keeping its’ attention on him. His Mana Pool felt like a starving man’s stomach, aching with emptiness, but he let Sharpness drop and willed the last few shreds of power to keep his speed up. The vial was cold in his hand, and he cast a quick glance towards it. He had no idea what it was, and no Tower interface popped up. What did the injured Climber mean by “throat”? Another tail swipe hit Will as he tried to puzzle out the solution to this riddle, and he felt a rib crack even through his armour.

Another roar ripped through the room, and as he turned and watched the Denmother open its’ mouth wide, flame sparking like a lighter being flicked, he realised what the injured figure had meant. He drew back his arm and lobbed the vial at the spark of flame in the back of the Denmother’s throat desperately, Alacrity finally fading and the backlash to his stamina hitting like a truck. He dived aside one final time, and as he crashed to the ground he watched the vial soar into the onrushing flame, glowing with heat as it passed through and landed perfectly on target in the back of the monster’s throat. Nothing happened for a moment, and as the Denmother pivoted and went to bring a claw crashing down on Will’s prone form, he resigned himself to failure. He’d been too hasty, too cocky, and now he was going to rob Humanity of their last shot at survival.

“Boom!”

The explosion that ripped through the cavern popped both of Will’s eardrums and caused his head to swim in pain. The Denmother, who’d closed her mouth as she swiped at Will, gave a keening wail and dropped to the floor, blood pouring from every orifice of her head and her eyes leaking from a partially visible skull. Will was thrown back by the concussive force, and felt heat burn his skin, landing right beside the other Climber.

Respawning Encounter Cleared: Southwestern Drake Cave 4

Clear Requirements: Defeat all of the Drakes and the Denmother

Clear Contribution: 93%

Clear Rating: B

Clear Rewards: +3 End, +3 Str, Drakesblood Bloodline Elixir, 1500 Tower Coins, Fang of the Denmother [E]”

1st Clear Reward: +1 Skill Point, +1 All Stats, 500 Tower Coins

The extra points of Endurance gave him just enough energy to grab the nearly dead form of the other Climber and drag them out of the cave, collapsing just outside in the open air. He forced himself to stay conscious long enough to erect a Temporary Med-Tent and navigate to the Store Interface. 300 Coins to access the Store from a temporary safe area, 300 spent on healing supplies, and another 100 on weak stamina and mana restoration draughts. He resented spending so much of the Drake cave reward so quickly, but it was necessary to stop this person dying from their severe wounds. As he feebly dragged the wounded Climber into the tent, he uncapped one of the more powerful Healing Potions and forced it down the unresponsive person’s throat. The injuries were bad enough that he was honestly surprised the person still breathed at all, even in the shallow hitched breaths they did.

It took about 5 minutes for anything to happen, and his consciousness was swimming at this point. He saw the burns start to swirl and begin to visibly regenerate, and the Climber’s breathing became more regular and deeper. Satisfied he’d saved this mystery person from imminent death, he swallowed down as many of the remainder of his potions as he could before allowing himself to fall asleep next to them in the small tent.