“What on earth is he talking about?” Clavran asked one of his fellow Korbal, as Howardlight finished his challenge to the dark-cloaked guardian that had stepped forward to meet their attack. From the sound of it, it was Morgana but it was difficult to say, the voice matched, but the appearance was completely concealed by a dark cloak and Observe was similarly blocked. It was as if the opponent wasn’t even there, making it hard to guess what was going on.

“No idea,” the heavily armoured knight next to him replied, only to suddenly move, blocking a Javelin of Ice that had been launched by the now much larger figure, as if the person had entered some sort of elemental armour, one that made Clavran think of some anime he had watched in the past. The ridiculously oversized sword would certainly fit into those stories.

It wasn’t just his companion who had to enter the fight, Clavran, too, had to engage or get skewered at a distance. The massive armour was surprisingly agile, the first swing enough to push one of their strongest guardians back, barely able to deflect the attack with her shield. Golden light gathered around one of the other guardians, helping him to block the follow-up attack, leaving an opening for others to exploit.

After hundreds of fights in the arena, Clavran could recognise openings as quickly as anyone, even if the opening was on a three-metre-tall armour made of Ice and with a push of power, he surged forward, one hand on his blade, already using the technique known as Lightning Draw. His curved sword flashed from its scabbard, crackling power surrounding it and cleaved into the Icy figure, trying to reach the faintly visible person within. The attack cut deep, the lightning discharging and shattering the Ice in the surroundings, leaving a spiderweb of cracks that brought a grin to his face as he retreated.

Only for the grin to falter almost instantly, when the cracks disappeared and the cut was mended, leaving the armour as pristine as it had been before the attack. His fellow Korbal had similar problems, their attacks didn’t seem to stick on their enemy as if the armour was constantly being restored. After a moment of thought, Clavran wanted to slap his forehead in resignation, why wouldn’t the most powerful Ice-Mage amongst the Travellers be capable of repairing the Ice-Armour she had created to fight?

“One burst,” Howardlight ordered and after a few moments of frantic defence from the frontline, every fighter trying their best to keep the armour bound in combat, a call from the backline made them all scatter, just in time to let a massive barrage of magic through. There were jets of Fire, blasts of lightning and streamers of light, only for a shield of Ice to suddenly appear right in front of the armour, blocking most of the attack before shattering into sparkling dust. What little remained of the barrage splashed against the armour, only to be quickly healed away.

“Attrition, it is!” Howardlight called out, just as he was launching some strange, glowing orb at the armour, only to have the orb get parried by the giant sword. “Don’t take risks, just chip the thing down until we get the squishy within, it’s only one person,” he ordered and for the next minute, that was exactly what happened.

The frontline fighters used their attacks mostly to keep the armour engaged and stop it from moving past them to attack their companions further back. Those companions were now in what they commonly called conservative mode, trying to keep their resource expenditure roughly equal to their regeneration, doing their best to aim their attacks in such a way that supported the frontline, without wasting power. Similarly, the fighters worked hard to dodge and avoid, instead of parry and block, every bit of damage that had to be healed a waste of power that might be needed further down the line.

It seemed that their tactic was working, the massive sword certainly capable of dealing tremendous damage but only if it hit. And with multiple people, all supported by magic, working together to keep that blade from landing, things became a lot easier. There was still a risk when fighting a three-metre tall armour even a backhanded slap or a simple kick would cause serious damage but it was manageable.

Or so the Korbal thought, until the armour took a large step back and struck out with a wide, sweeping strike, the sword gleaming with cold, silvery-blue light. In the wake of that strike, a set of five large Javelins, each easily two metres long and shining with deadly magic, manifested and was launched outward, at the casters in the back. They had just enough time to jump aside, the attack powerful but quite obvious, though it left them shaken, especially after it crashed into the back wall, a lacerating hail of shards showing just how much force the attack had carried.

A few curses echoed through the room but ultimately, this new attack changed little. Sure, it forced people to stay on their toes and get the hell out of the way when a massive spear of Ice was flying in their direction, but there had been enough warning to manage.

And so the battle continued, the sounds of battle echoing through the frozen hall. The armour didn’t reveal any additional tricks, only those javelins and the, admittedly, tremendously powerful sword, wielded with some skill but, more importantly, against all common sense. It was that lack of form that almost did Clavran in multiple times, his fighting style honed against humanoid, or the odd beast, in the arena and now, faced with an enemy that could move in ways a living being was simply not supposed to, he had some trouble. Without the allies around him, the armour would have killed him without trouble, a realisation that humbled the swordsman.

Here they were, forty of the strongest Travellers they had been able to find and they were fighting, and struggling, against a single Traveller, someone who didn’t have more time to hone her skill and power than them.

Clavran’s thoughts were interrupted when the armour suddenly surged forward, crashing through the blockade of the frontline and towards the backline, only to stumble and fall to a knee from the brutal strikes the fighters had launched into the opening caused by the reckless breakthrough.

They were about to converge, intent on finishing the wounded enemy off, only for a shout of warning to make them back off, one of the mages screaming in horror. Moments later, the armour exploded, razor-sharp shards of Ice going everywhere, dropping multiple of the fighters, and one archer who had been too close.

From the corner of his eye, Clavran had noticed a faint, dark shape that shot upwards with tremendous speed, vanishing in the gloom above.

“Healers, go, save them,” Howardlight called out, as he, himself, was shrouded in golden light, restoring the wounds he had suffered. The Paladin was incredibly tough, his ability to withstand attacks and recover from them enough to make Clavran somewhat apprehensive, wondering if he could take the other if they ever fought in a duel. Not that it mattered, any illusion of superiority had been thoroughly shattered in the earlier battle against Morgana.

Clavran, along with some of the others, started to explore the ground floor of the tower, dispatching a few scattered enemies, more of the strange wargs and the avians, now close enough to be Observed as something called a Nevermore. Nobody had heard of such enemies but given that they turned into Ice when slain, some of the casters had been talking and theorising.

“This has to be a plant,” one of the other fighters muttered, inspecting one of the smaller chambers.

“You think?” Clavran asked, only to feel his foot sink a little further than it should. Jumping back, the space he had occupied just a split-second earlier was peppered with more of the sharp Icciels, only that they had shot out of the wall.

“Trap,” Clavran warned, picking himself up, “Honestly, I’m not sure. Have you listened to the Casters, they were talking about the amount of power in the air. But either way, this raid is interesting enough for me, whether it was made by Morgana alone or with support from Pantheon, this is awesome. Though I’d love it if it was made by her alone, just think of it. Making your own dungeon, playing at dungeon lord. That sounds pretty epic,” Clavran grinned, fond childhood memories in his mind. Playing with friends, the only limit to their adventures their collective imagination and sanity, it had been great.

“If you say so,” the other replied, carefully testing if there were more traps in their chosen area of exploration, “No matter how epic, the loot completely sucks.”

At that, even Clavran had to nod. Apart from some strange chunks of Ice, too cold for anyone to touch, there had been no loot, making many of the Korbal increasingly cranky. They wanted loot and they wanted it now. If only the massive sword hadn’t vanished, it would almost certainly have been a really cool sword. Even if a little on the large side.

But before they could get at the goodies, they had a tower to raid, there had to be some sweet loot in it somewhere.