Primus City - Arcathis
“Break them.”
The command repeated over and over within the mind of Arcadia’s latest Demon Lord. Absolute. Undeniable. Impossible to ignore, or disobey.
Thus, the empowered Madjinn focused his magical might on the nearest target: Pandarus Tower. Sitting in a somewhat populated downtown area of Primus, the tower was, in the words of those who had to walk by it every day, a ‘gaudy eyesore’. A giant, golden P was emblazoned on its center, and gold trim lined the tower''s edges and windows. It wasn’t real gold though, just plated with painted metal to appear to be gold. A wealthy pretense covering up something that was objectively worthless, like every product the Pandora Organization produced and sold.
Pandarus Tower was a monument to everything Eridion Pandarus had spent his life scheming, backstabbing, and deal breaking to achieve after inheriting and greedily stealing his family’s entire fortune for himself, but it was, at its core, a facade. Even on the inside, anything golden, had been painted to be so. Anything that looked like silver was actually a lesser metal, polished by the underpaid magicless lower class maids to shine like silver. Even the seats weren''t bound with leather, but rather a magically conjured material designed to cheaply imitate the work of skilled Leatherworkers for a fraction of the price.
Despite being a monument to objective evil, and a house to thousands of unspeakably morally abhorrent parties of the sexual nature, good people did work at the tower, and as the Madjinn Demon Lord lifted a massive, muscled orange arm and then swiftly brought it down, most of the people within died. As did a piece of Pandarus’s soul, as his command from Dagorath, entirely on purpose, forced him to destroy what he’d built with his own hands. He was being made to watch it crumble to dust and debris right after gaining the power he’d so desperately craved.
This in turn, again entirely by design, made the newborn Demon Lord enraged on a core level, and the Madjinn could’ve sworn he heard the amused chuckle of the God of Monsters within his head. Pandarus had no doubt Dagorath was watching his every move with, at most, mild interest. Now properly enraged, the titanic genie raised his orange arms, and the remnants of his tower rose into the air with them. As expected, his narcissistic mindset had led to one conclusion: If he could not have and rule Primus, nobody would.
As the city held its breath, waiting for the untold destruction, chaos, and death a magically propelled sky-scraping tower of Primus would inflict on its people, a lone figure appeared in the sky. He shone with a bright blue radiance, his royal blue robes woven with celestial patterns and trimmed in gold flaring out around him, with an unmistakable white mane of hair. His form grew larger, not nearly the size he had been when he had crafted this world, but just large enough so that Pandarus and his son could see his expression: the face of a God who was, in every way, Done with their bullshit.
In all the long ages that Dagorath had unleashed his Demon Lords and monster armies upon Arcadia’s people, Galdurath and Laurelin had not intervened, as they feared their son would leap at the chance to confront them in combat. To do battle on the scale of God was to ensure that nothing on Arcadia would survive that battle, and neither Dagorath nor his parents wished to restart everything from scratch, with just the three of them. As depraved as the God of Monsters was, he enjoyed the comforts of Arcadian society, their inventions, their foods, and the idea of being alone on a ravaged world with just his parents…genuinely terrified him.
Though he would never admit that, he did worry that in such a scenario, they would not hold back against him, likely choosing to lock him away on Arcadia, remove the device powering the planet’s core, and begin their long search again for a new world to start over on, leaving him to rot, floating on the ass end of the Multiverse, forever imprisoned and forgotten.
The tint of the sky above Primus shifted from red to blue, as Galdurath summoned his staff, banished his son’s influence, and with a wave of his hand, and then forced the debris around Pandarus to form a series of circular platforms made of stone and metal that surrounded the orange genie''s massive frame, and held it there, unable to flee. Once the pitiful Demon Lord was bound, he used his awesome power to guide the souls of his deceased tower staff back to their bodies, and with a bit of minor time manipulation, rewound them to a living state, and teleported them elsewhere. Manipulating time was something only the strongest wizards and sorcerers ever attempted, and only with great need, but Galdurath had long since mastered it, and could do this much at least with no major consequences. Like a Weaver with fabric, he restored the flow with the lives of those who did not need to perish here, in his wayward son''s latest tantrum.
In the ages since the last Demon Lord was slain, Galdurath had warned his son: the next Demon Lord he raised would be slain immediately, and he intended to keep that promise, as he had all the others. The promise to fight his monsters with superior heroes. The promise to shatter his armies with a single modification to the planet. He had made good on both of them, and the likes of Eiridion Pandarus would not make him a liar.
With his interfering finished, Galdurath addressed his city, a city that had been his home for more ages than he had spent anywhere else in his long existence.
“People of Primus! Return to your homes. My power shall keep them protected, and intact. Not one of you will be left to the Demon Lord’s mercy…however I cannot guarantee your safety if you remain outside. Proceed calmly and orderly to the nearest roofed residence, and await the all clear.”
Then, in the minds of every capable adventurer in Primus, Galdurath addressed them directly. “Heroes of Arcadia. Arc Wardens and Adventurers over the hundredth level…lend your city your skills. The Demon Lord dies today. I have entrapped him here, and it is here that he shall die.” To their credit, and despite their standing, not a single Arc Warden, draconic, or runic ranked adventurer denied his call. Even as corrupt as their society had become, they yet answered the summons of the God of Magic. That boded well, for young Drake Long’s mission.
Almost as an afterthought, Galdurath addressed Drake Long as well as those destined to venture with him into the depths of the Wallow Dungeon against Chronogrin. “The time has come to purge the Wallow. Gather your materials and your allies. The Goblin Emperor is tied to this scheme. End him.”
It should be noted, that for all his wisdom and insight, the God of Magic had missed that the Final Boss of the Wardengrave Dungeon was also involved, but their methods and contributions had been more subtle, and thus they remained hidden. Galdurath returned to his own Tower of Knowledge, and with a pulse of powerful magic, a protective blue barrier appeared over every single dwelling of Primus, allowing the denizens in, and keeping falling debris or spells out.
Back at the Academy, Drake and Rose shared a look of relief, and also nervousness. It was comforting to know Galdurath was taking a comparatively active role for once. It was less comforting that he’d given them a mandate to purge the Wallow. Class Seven slowly formed up around them, and the mysterious hooded woman who’d approached Drake disappeared as his focus was taken by Vincent. “Everyone…heard that, right?” The enchanter chuckled nervously. “L-looks like the God of Magic himself wants us to clear a Dungeon…no pressure…”
“It’s not just you guys.” Came a familiar voice.
Rael Astorius, already in his armor, was striding towards them at the head of Class One, who was also equipping their gear. “We too received the order. As did Class Two and Class Three. Instructor Kang and Class Four are leading Classes Five, Six, and Eight in a Goblin purge around the Wallow. We don’t want them becoming empowered by the Demon Lord, and going on a rampage.” His logic was sound, as Drake recalled from Aslan''s teachings that any monsters that managed to approach a being blessed by Dagorath immediately grew in level and power, often becoming a higher class of monster as they did.
Behind Rael, came the respective student leaders of Classes Two and Three, and their twenty or so other members, all of whom had just watched Drake beat the lightning out of Skalos Lycaon. Drake tilted his head at Rael, as the two clasped forearms in the manliest of greetings. “What about the other Academy students?”
Rael smirked. “Anyone below level one hundred is going to the Filthpit. They don’t want the Orcs there breaking free. Students that are Third Year and above are probably over one hundred, and since they’re technically ranked as Arc Wardens…” His gaze shifted to the giant orange genie in the distance. Flashes of light and magic were already rolling over him, and his massive, magical counter attacks were typically either knocked skyward by somebody Drake couldn’t see at this distance, or dodged, and left to Galdurath to deal with. True to the God of Magic''s declaration, the city did not break under the wayward spells.
Class Two
Class Three
As Class Two and Class Three joined their growing group of powerful teenagers, Drake greeted them personally. Nobody in Class Seven argued with him taking charge, at that moment. He asked for their names, and classes one by one. It was, without a doubt, a diverse group of teenagers, all on the verge of level fifty. Every single one of them seemed very unnerved, and Drake empathized. For them, the arrival of a new Demon Lord was practically a fairytale. There hadn’t been a new one in an entire era of their world.
The current era, or perhaps the most-recent-but-now-ended era, the Dungeon Era, had seen the rise of their safe society, an exploding population on the planet, rapid advancements in magical technology, and the cemented status of magical nobility as the rulers of said planet. Many here had likely expected a free and easy ride to luxury like their parents, grandparents, and great grandparents. Now…the God of Magic wanted them to clear a Dungeon with a time-wielding Goblin Emperor waiting at the end.
For Drake…he’d honestly been expecting this since he learned Demon Lords were a thing. So far his new life was checking all the standard isekai boxes. Dagorath’s actions weren’t exactly a surprise, at least to him.
There was something that bothered him though…dropping a Demon Lord on Primus, literally the strongest concentration of highest leveled warriors on the planet, all but guaranteed his servant would be slain quickly, and his power wasted. If he was the child of the Gods that Drake knew, Dagorath was no fool. Which meant one of two things: Dagorath had been able to empower this Eridion Pandarus with minimal effort and cost, and was doing this to cure his boredom, or, after recouping his power from past Demon Lords, he was alright with wasting it on a very big, very flashy distraction, while his minions within the Dungeons put whatever their plan was into motion while the Arc Wardens were all distracted. He wondered if more than one Demon Lord had ever appeared at one time, but as he started to ask the question, he saw the faces of his peers, and decided to save it for a later time.
Once Drake had the vaguest of ideas about Class Two and Three’s capabilities, he nodded, and spoke up. “What we need to do first…is prepare. Quickly. Each Class, have someone assigned to gather those of us who aren’t here. Classes One, Two, and Three, gather as much food as you can from across the campus. Buy it if you have to, even from the vendor carts. Raw ingredients are also fine. We need to be able to last as long as possible in the Wallow.”
Most of Class Two and Three split off to do just that, as did a few from Class One. Rael gave Drake a nervous smirk. “What about you guys?”
Drake gave him a confident wink. “Oh, I got plans. We’ve uhh…subtly been planning to clear the Wallow for a while now. We were going to wait to ask you guys in Class One to help during our exam, but…it seems our timetable has sped up.”
Rael chuckled, despite the situation. Of course Drake had been planning to clear a Dungeon. As a first year. He shook his head at the absurdity of this day. “How can I help?”
Drake smirked at him. “Head to the Guild. Gather as many low level Adventurers as you can, and post a quest. Anyone who wants to level up, and level quickly, should meet us at the Wallow’s entrance.” Rael nodded, following his logic, and started moving towards Primus’s Adventurers Guild at a quick pace. Drake turned to Vincent, then. “You have the materials? And the thing?”
Vincent nervously pushed up his glasses. “I have the new Bag of Holding, and the food we’ve gathered already has been transferred over.” The usually calm, cool Enchanter kept glancing with worry at the giant orange Demon Lord across the city. The battle would not wait for them, but once they were in the Wallow, they might manage to exit again before the Demon Lord was slain. “I also brought your freshly forged toy…though I don’t see how a construct Familiar is going to help in this situation.”
Drake chuckled. “It’s going to save our asses from being expelled, Vincent. I’d have thought you’d like that. Clearing the Wallow, even on Galdurath’s orders, is not going to be a popular move…unless we show Everyone what those wretched little rape monsters really are. Right now, too many people think of Goblins as cannon fodder for low level Adventurers. We’re going to show them all exactly what they’ve always been.” As Rose handled getting Class Seven to gather supplies, like potions, for three classes worth of healers and spellcasters, Drake began Omnicrafting.
He was, once again, borrowing a tactic straight out of an anime, one that, he realized sadly, he would now likely never see the conclusion of. But it had given him an idea, and given that Arcadia had seen nothing like this before, it might just save them from the fury of the powers that be from stripping their adventurer ranks or expelling them from the Academy. The Wallow was considered a vital resource for low level experience by Primus and the Adventurers Guild, a fact that Drake had only confirmed after resolving to clear it. In fact, many people, usually always lower caste commoners, had been begging the Adventurers Guilds to do something about it. For centuries. Their requests had been logged, and summarily ignored.
The problem was, those commoners were always silenced. Either bought off, disappeared, or unable to garner interest because there was simply no framework with which to reach large groups of people in Arcadia’s society, and make them spare a fuck for the people getting captured and brutalized around the city’s Dungeon. Much as Drake had despised social media back on Earth, it had managed to link people together and share information when shit hit the fan. As long as he revived that aspect of it, and not the useless food pic snapping, vile commenting, stupid trend starting nonsense, he reasoned it was worth bringing to Arcadia. Of course, he knew in time those things would probably arise as well, but he would not be creating them. Just the means to record them.
Arcadia’s Artificers had actually managed to create something akin to a personal robot. They were largely inventions for rich people and successful adventurers to use for menial tasks like counting Gil and folding laundry, but, anyone could bond with one, and they were magitech creations, which meant they had the core functionality that Drake required: advanced magitech recording devices in their eyes that captured both image and sound. Typically used to prevent thieving by desperate servants against their rich employers, Drake would now put the rather intricate magical devices to use for a cause that was actually noble.
With his Omnicrafting, he bonded a Surface Link to the flight-capable construct. It had once looked like some kind of gaudy bird, but had yet to be activated as a bird. Thus, before its highly complex magical ''brain'' core could identify itself as a mechanical avian, Drake altered its form completely, to something that someone from Earth’s modern era would easily recognize.
Four tandem rotor blades for balanced recording, two omnidirectional eyes now mounted both above and below on rotating metal housings, three high capacity magic storing crystals that would recharge from the ambient magic that permeated Arcadia, and one Surface Link, which would allow them to send recorded visual and sound data across the leylines, to the surface of Arcadia. Vincent watched him work, with interest. “What…in the fuck did you do to that bird Familiar?”
Drake cackled with fake maniacal laughter. “It’s no longer a bird…it’s a Drake Recording Omnidirectional Network Expositor! A Drone! Say hi, D.R.O.N.E.!” He had, of course, left the intelligence matrices and communication functions intact. He really hadn’t even altered too much of the original design, the parts were essentially the same, they were just in different places. He half expected it to break anyway once he turned it on, but Arcadian technology, he had found, tended to be a lot more reliable than the tech back on Earth. Magic was just unfair, they even had spells to stop natural entropy of materials. This construct would likely outlive him.
The rotor blades started humming, and those of Class Seven who hadn’t departed watched in shock, as the strange magitech familiar floated into the sky. “Greetings, Owner. Please assign a designation.” Drake repeated its name, and the acronym. “Understood. This unit will be known as Drone. Please designate primary function.” Once again, Drake repeated what the drone’s task would be, namely, recording their heroic exploits in the depths of the world’s Dungeons, and streaming them live for all to see.
“Error.” Drone said. “No receiving device has been paired. Cannot complete primary function.”
Drake chuckled. “Stay tuned, Drone…that’s coming next.” Since the Surface Link, typically a device attached to a Resonance Crystal to call for help from within a Dungeon, was capable of compressing sound, and with a little alteration from an Omnicrafter, visual images as well, the hardest part of encoding and transmitting such things from the depths of a Dungeon was already done for him. Now they just needed a screen capable of receiving and playing back the visuals and audio while adjusting for any time distortions.
A circle of glowing runes surrounded the pile of materials Vincent had purchased earlier that day. They’d been planning to test the TV setup first, but now they had to hit the ground running and hope it all worked out. First, he engraved runes into the sheet of glass they had, which would convert the condensed visual magic data back into color images. Then, behind the screen, noise cancellation runes and magically enhanced diaphragms surrounded by enchanted copper wire would reconvert the condensed sounds back into waves. Crystals to power the device and regulate distortions like lag and time dilation. And finally, a platinum antenna, enchanted by Vincent for extremely long range receiving. He claimed it could receive signals from across the entire planet, so a Dungeon should be no problem.
As the crafting finished and Drake exhaled, wincing at how much magic that had drained, the only question that remained, was where to mount this thing. As he tiredly voiced that concern, Vincent smirked at him. “The Headmaster gave me permission earlier to use the side of the boy’s dorm building.” With a tired groan, Drake lifted the heavy magitech television and headed for their dormitory. In short order, they had it mounted to the wide side of the building facing the rest of the campus, at which point, Drake powered it on.
Drone chirped as he did so. “Device recognized. Pairing. Pairing successful. Shall I save this device for future use, Owner?”
Drake nodded. “Please do so, Drone. Begin streaming audio and visual data.”
The drone sat silently for a minute, then, its two eyes burned to life with blue magic, fading after the initial surge of power. “Audio and visual transfer confirmed. All systems are functional.”
Drake smirked up at the TV, as he saw Vincent looking between it, and Drone, on the screen, in full color. “We only fucking did it…now then…Drone! Can you tell what your limit is with transmitting to this device? Like in terms of distance?”
“Audio and visual magic recordings can be sent so long as there is Magic between this unit and the paired device. Estimated range…infinite.” Drone answered, in its mechanical deadpan tone.
Drake blinked. “Infinite!?”
Drone chirped again, probably a leftover from being a bird. “Affirmative. Magic is omnipresent on Arcadia. Unless this changes, transmission range distance is calculated to be infinite. Addendum: Longer distances will take longer amounts of time to transmit data. Calculating maximum amount of time based on maximum distance…maximum transmission from furthest planetary point calculated...receiving time with the paired device is eight standard Arcadian hours.”
Drake whistled. Drone copied his whistle, and that made both him and Vincent smirk. “Well uhh…tell me if that changes, Drone. Rest, for now.” As Drone powered off and Drake shoved them unceremoniously into the Bag of Holding, the TV screen didn’t turn blue or get static and fuzzy, but rather started giving off lights like an aurora borealis screensaver, causing both Vincent and Drake to watch in awe.
“It’s…got to be the Leylines.” Vincent murmured. “Until it connects again…I guess this is the visual it’s picking up.” Seeing Drake''s posture was sagging from a lack of magic, Vincent hit him with an enchantment that would speed up his magic recovery rate, which helped.
At that moment, Varan Kasra, the Olephan elephantine humanoid who served as Class Two’s primary tank, approached them. Like his elephantine ancestors, his frame was massive, covered in crimson and gold trim runic tier armor, and enhanced by the similarly crimson shield he carried, emblazoned with the Arcane Eye of the God of Magic. In his main hand, was a massive spear that connected to his wrist with a chain. As a Dragonslayer Knight, this allowed him to deal with flying enemies very effectively.
“Drake Long.” He rumbled, setting down a large bag of food and ingredients with his long gray wrinkled trunk, “Class Two is heading for the Wallow Dungeon. I am to deliver these, and inform you to meet us by the main entrance.”
This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Drake nodded, glad that someone among them was taking initiative. “Very good, Varan. Ahh, actually, before you go, take this.” He handed the elephant man one of the walkie talkies. “If you hold this button and speak, we will hear your words from a great distance. Its range is greater than the Party Comms. Even in a Dungeon…theoretically. I have one, and Vincent has two more. We’ll pass them out to each Class once we rendezvous.”
Varan looked at the device, and then at the screen, and a smile pulled up his elephant lips, below his trunk. “For one who is not an Artificer, you are quite adept with creating magitech, Drake Long. I will give this to our Class Leader, Elorin.”
Drake nodded. Elorin Alden was a White Wizard, the main healer of Class Two, and one vowel away from another White Wizard that Drake was very familiar with. If he led Class Two, they were in very good hands. Probably. “Let us know if the situation changes at the Dungeon.”
With a final nod, Drake’s eyes widened as the massive Olephan crouched, and then leapt what had to be fifty or sixty feet in the air. He had wondered why a heavy and presumably slow tank had been used as a messenger, and now he had his answer. Apparently, Dragonslayers had mad hops. He noted that mentally, for later.
Drake turned to Vincent then, “I’m going to go check on Rael. Get the Class to the Wallow for me. Rose and the others should be back soon.”
Vincent nodded. “Go on, I can handle it. I’ll see you at the entrance.”
Having partied up before splitting off, Drake had a vague sense of where his raid group was, and the fact that Rael was still alone at the Guild worried him. Any new willing participants should’ve joined the party by now. Drake hopped on Falkor, and the pair watched the battle with the Demon Lord as they hurried for the Primus Adventurer’s Guild.
Suddenly, their eyes widened as a fireball, one of many aimed presumably at one of the adventurers fighting Pandarus, arced towards them after some kind of deflection. Sharing a look, Drake leapt off of Falkor’s back, landing in the dragon’s palm, before being flung towards the oncoming fireball. Drake put the level disparity from his mind, focusing his Ki into his Dispelling Fist. It burned through quite a lot of his recovered magic, but the monk came through mostly uncharred, and the fireball dissipated harmlessly. As strong as Galdurath was, blocking all these spells had to be draining him.
Drake returned to his dragon, as they floated before the guild. “You should probably head back to Laurelin, bud. I have a skill that should send you back there.”
The doggo-turned-dragon snorted a cloud of smoke at him. “I will help Galdurath. Even a God must have a magic limit. I can break fireballs as easily as you can. I’ve been practicing.”
Drake nodded, not inclined to stop him if he wanted to risk his safety to help. “Alright. Just be careful. And try to stay out of that thing’s sight line. And don’t go near it, either. When we need you in the Dungeon, I’ll summon you. Good luck!”
With that, the pair split, and Falkor almost immediately got his chance to barrel roll through another stray fireball, dissipating it with his own mastery over fire, before hiding behind a building. Drake meanwhile, landed by the guild’s entrance, and headed inside. The sight he found was not encouraging.
Most adventurers, it seemed, had taken shelter here, alongside several civilians, the majority of whom were lower caste. Rael was there, with several seasoned warriors behind him, arguing with a man who had to have been a noble, who was in the middle of a pompous tirade. He was well dressed in a dark brown high quality overcoat with purple accents, over an equally fine crimson vest. His ascot was loose and disheveled as was his slicked back brown hair, and his face was flushed red as he was shouting at Rael.
“…ill Not be leaving the premises! We need them here, to protect the people taking shelter! Every Demon Lord in history has had minions! I will not let some student deprive the good people of Primus of their protection!”
“Rael.” Drake interjected as he entered in a hurry, robe flaring behind him, “We need to get moving. Things are getting dire in the Wallow District by the sound of it.” Even with four full classes of students further bolstered by Classes One, Two, Three, and Seven, the entirety of the Academy''s first year classes seemed to be having trouble, going by what he could hear over the telepathy based communication partying up granted. Apparently, the goblins were out in force, further reinforcing Galdurath''s words.
The nobleman huffed. “Great. Another one.”
Rael ignored him, giving Drake a look. “These Adventurers behind me offered to help, but this…aristocratic gentleman won’t let them depart. He’s afraid the Demon Lord’s minions will come knocking.”
Drake raised a brow and then glanced at the lower level adventurers. “And the lower level Adventurers cowering behind the commoners?” Rael simply shook his head. Apparently, nobody wanted to risk fighting empowered goblins at a low level.
“They’re too weak to defend us!” The bespectacled noble all but shrieked, his nasally tone tinged with panic. “We need to stay here! With the Adventurers we have! You can’t seriously prioritize the Wallow District over us!”
Drake got in his face, staring him down. His level was one hundred and two, and his class was listed as Ranger, yet he wore no armor and had no weapon. “And why wouldn’t we prioritize them? They’re the ones currently in actual danger.” He floated above the noble then, ignoring him entirely as he addressed the commoners in a calm but authoritative tone.
“Listen up! Rael Astorious and I are the strongest First Years at the Academy! With us, and the other high level Adventurers protecting you, we’re going to move everyone to the Academy grounds! The wards are much stronger, designed to repel Monsters, and there’s a lot more room, and supplies! Currently, there are no Monsters outside, and with Adventurers around the Dungeons, there probably won’t be any! Pack up what you can carry, help each other if possible, and get ready to move! The Guild is not a fortress, and the Guild Master isn’t here. He’s fighting right now, to keep us all safe.”
The noble was fuming now, and grabbed Drake’s leg, trying and failing to bring him to the floor. “I am the authority here! Not a couple of teenagers with no clue! We are NOT leaving!”
Drake’s eyes narrowed, and he spun rapidly in the air, kicking the man’s wrist tendons and freeing his foot. The nobleman sputtered indignantly, “How Dare-”
Drake cut him off. “Oh I’ll dare, Asshole. Hold us up any longer and I will personally tie your cowardly ass to the support beam, before we leave. The God of Magic asked for everyone above level one hundred to fight the Demon Lord. That includes You, at one hundred and two. And yet here we find you, cowering with the women, children, and novice Adventurers.”
The room filled with murmurs and chuckles, and the man flushed harder, before attempting to save his pride, “I-I’m just a crafter! A producer! My level reflects my crafting skills! They’re not for combat!”
Drake nodded. “Good. Then you can use them to help your fellow citizens. At the Academy. Look, I understand you’re scared, and that this hasn’t happened in Primus before, but you’re not safe here. Galdurath’s barriers won’t stop Monsters from coming inside. The ones at the Academy will. And we can get you there.”
At that point, Kelista, the guild’s clerk, chimed in as well. “I’m leaving with Drake Long, and the others.” She declared, and Drake blinked, as his name inspired more murmuring. His reputation was preceding him apparently, though he had no idea how. He didn’t think he’d done nearly enough yet for name recognition. She addressed the nobleman then. “They may be First Years, but Mr. Long and the young Lord Astorius are both Adamantine Rank, and have actually been in combat, Lord Wyrmstrag.” When he indignantly opened his mouth, she added, “They fight Monsters, they don’t just shoot scared wildlife for sport, and yes, there is a difference.”
Kelista was the crack that broke the dam, and the nobleman fumed quietly, a vein in his temple visibly throbbing as the commoners passed him by without acknowledging his presence. Drake took the initiative, saying, “Rael, guide them at the front. High levels, watch our middle, and leave the rear to me. If any spells come our way, do not panic. I can Dispel them. Under no circumstance should anyone run from the group. Stay close to each other, and call out any enemies you see!” He glanced at Rael, who nodded, and said, “Alright people! We’re power walking! Quickly and calmly, let’s move!” As they filed out of the guild, Drake looked at the nobleman. “Are you coming with us or not, your Lordship? There probably won’t be Monsters around this district, but I can’t guarantee your safety here.”
The purple-eyed man took a deep breath, and then finally nodded. “Fine. But…Drake Long, was it? You will be held to account for your disrespectful tone to a Noble of Primus!”
Drake stared at him incredulously. “Right now, you should be more worried about whether that Demon Lord has the magical power to level the city, not my fucking tone! Now move!”
It was only a few blocks to the school from the guild, and nothing interesting happened on the way. Once they were within the safety of the Academy’s wards, Drake addressed the adventurers, as Lord Asshat led the commoners towards the main building. Drake let tem go, having had more than enough of the man''s pompous cowardice for one day.
“Any level twenty or above should come with us to the Wallow entrance! For reasons I can’t disclose…this may be the last chance you’ll have to level up off the Goblins there, and as I’m sure some of you have heard…I have an experience boost that applies to my allies.” He saw the hesitation in their eyes fade, as he said that, and smirked, as his guess at the reason for his name recognition was all but confirmed. Experience boosts were apparently very difficult to acquire. Grinding early levels was notoriously hard for most classes, and Drake had heard it was hard to find a party that would bother taking on a newbie. “We have enough higher levels to break into parties of four. Stay close to your leader, and shout if you run into something you can’t deal with. Who’s coming?”
A sea of eager hands rose, and they managed to form roughly nine parties. One of them had two rather strong adventurers, a steel and mithril rank, so Drake had them bring along a few level tens as well. They wasted little time in heading for the Wallow, which sat between two districts of Primus, Steelspire, to the west, and Stoneward, to the east. Almost immediately, they could tell this part of the city, the Wallow District, was essentially abandoned, but not uninhabited.
A single crossed street, and then very suddenly, the buildings were ramshackle and barely structurally sound, the people, what few were out and about given the rampaging Demon Lord in the distance, were wearing scraps of clothing, and had an all too familiar lightless look in their eye that Drake had seen from the hopelessly destitute in New York City. He’d hoped he’d never have to see that look again, but it seemed even Arcadian cities couldn’t support all of their citizens.
He also noted that the usual route to the Wallow Dungeon had avoided areas like this. The houses lining that one were at least functional. This time, they’d taken the shortest route, cutting through areas and small city neighborhoods that were more akin to a ghetto. Drake now regretted letting the others lead the way here last time. The closer they came to the Dungeon, the worse things got.
Then, they heard it. The unmistakable sound of large scale combat, and the telling screams of unlucky victims to goblin perversion. "Join the others! Low levels, stay out of the Dungeon!" Having not taken on a group himself, Drake sprinted ahead towards the nearest screams with his airbending, and sure enough, found the goblins doing what they did, a hapless woman in their midst.
“Fucking Goblins…” Drake snarled, shaking with rage, and upon hearing him, the rapey little green monsters turned toward him, and then chuckled, seeing he was alone. One of them however, didn’t stop. He was positioned above their victim, his foul green appendage in his tiny, foul green hand. Then, as Drake became a blur and vanished from sight, the goblin became a foul green smear on the wall, and parts of Drake’s fist. The goblins babbled in confusion, then turned, as they heard Drake inhale.
He could’ve used the whole Shout, but that would’ve burned more of his depleted magic and likely hit the unconscious woman as well or at least burned her from the intense heat. In that moment, all he desired was Fire. Change given form. Power, at its most primal. Paarthurnax’s words echoed in his head, straight from Skyrim.
‘What will you burn?’
The goblins.
‘What will you spare?’
Their victim.
He embraced these thoughts, as he inhaled deeply.
“YOL!”
The ruined structure of the building frame erupted with a loud boom and concentrated flames, reducing the goblins to ash and black smoke.
Panting from fury more than being spent, Drake turned to the woman, only to find her bleeding out from multiple stab wounds. Somehow, his revulsion for the goblins grew. There wasn’t even a purpose to this, their only goal had been filling her last moments with the worst pain they could inflict.
She was human, and judging by her clothes, what was left of them, she was a local. Probably just too close to the fighting when it began, and judging by the drag marks now covered in goblin ash, her captors had brought her here recently. They didn''t seem to have defiled her already, and he hoped that was true. Drake frowned, not having a healing spell, or the potions in the Bags of Holding that were with Vincent and the others. What he did have however, was Ki.
“Guess we’re going full Kung Fu Panda…” He muttered, as he shifted his hands through the air quickly, separating positive energy from negative within his body, and guiding the positively charged Ki into the poor woman’s body.
Or at least, he tried. But nothing happened. No golden glow, no stirring instrumental music, no miraculous mending of wounds, nothing. He took another breath, and focused, not giving in to panic. First, he reviewed what he knew about Ki, Chi, Qi, or whatever one wanted to call it. Universal Energy also worked too. From what he’d seen, it existed everywhere, even in magic, which was probably why his Dispelling Fist worked at all. Then, he mentally reviewed how monks in the mediums he was familiar with managed their healing.
World of Warcraft’s had used mist as a medium, probably mostly for cool visuals, and because it was literally in the name of the expansion they’d been added in, but the concept was what mattered. Monks, as he recalled, had a rather potent instant heal that, lore wise, had them enhancing the Chi of the person they’d targeted, to speed up the body’s natural healing process with their own Chi infused mist. Though Po hadn’t healed anyone as far as he could remember, the concept from his universe was actually similar. He hadn’t manipulated other people’s Chi like Evil Bull Guy, he’d drawn it from around him, and others, and guided the flow. It wasn’t about positive or negative energy, in fact, balanced energy was probably more important.
Opening his eyes again, Drake narrowed them, as he realized he was running out of time. The poor woman had lost a lot of blood already. He stayed focused, and raised a hand again, this time, kind of like he did while airbending, guiding the natural energy of their surroundings into his palm, and then into his target. Not to force her wounds shut with Ki, but to speed up her body’s recovery process. It was working, but too slowly, so Drake added some of his own magic to the mix.
Sure enough, the magic reacted strongly with the focused Ki, and her body started mending quickly. Once again, Drake drained his already depleted magic, and though his Corestone Catalyst and Vincent''s spell had recovered much, healing the goblin’s victim had once again left him quite low. Then, suddenly, her body shone with a bright blue light, and vanished before him. Drake panicked as he wondered if that was his doing, but then stopped, as a familiar baritone thundered in his skull.
“You continue to impress me, Drake Long. I will make sure the woman receives the care she needs. Go, with my Blessing. Your allies will need you.”
Drake suddenly gasped, as a torrent of magic, directly from the leylines, was focused around him in an innervating blue cyclone of magic restoration. Slowly, Drake understood why Galdurath could seemingly protect a city as large as Primus indefinitely. Firstly, he was a God, but even Gods had to have a limit of some kind. With the ability to draw on the leylines, Galdurath was essentially invincible, with an infinite pool of magic and a divine grade spell list.
“Mirror Image.” He intoned, and his rainbow of ass kicking clones separated from his main body in a circle around him. “You all know what to do?” He asked, double checking.
As one, they answered him. “We slay all the Goblins!”
Drake nodded, and then, his eight copies launched out of the building, into the air. Drake joined them, and red cloak was already getting to work with a focused stream of firebending from both fists, and his mouth. Goblins died, rapidly, but the scene before him was nightmarish.
A surging green mass of monsters from the entrance of the Dungeon was clashing with a struggling defensive perimeter being enforced by the entirety of the Academy’s first years. His clones made an immediate impression on the goblin’s numbers, and he heard Garret’s cheering roar herald his arrival as green cloak slammed into the middle of the horde, and sent hundreds of spears of earth through their foul bodies. Yellow cloak used his airbending to force them back from the beleaguered students into a manageable clump, while blue cloak flew into the clump of healers, shamelessly winked at Rose, and then started channeling Ki from around them, into his water-tuned network, and then into their healers. The natural mana regeneration of the stance was heightened, and the mostly female healers straightened up, as their magic recovered quickly.
The other Drakes floated above the sea of little green assholes firing off smaller Ki Blasts, and before they were even needed, the other Classes made brutal use of their enemy being forcibly clumped by the wind. One of the healers, a wind user of some sort who looked like a doe to Drake’s eyes, helped yellow cloak keep them clumped with wind manipulation of her own. Then, came the tanks. Garret was flanked by Varian, Sethis and Bjorn at the tip of their wedge, with a whole host of diverse and bulky races beside them.
Varian ordered them into the Dungeon entrance, knowing numbers wouldn’t matter in the smaller tunnels. Drake recognized a few, like Vasari, the turtle man, but he also saw Varan, the crimson clad Olephon from earlier right alongside them. Where his spear struck, entire lines of goblins were impaled to death. But there were always more surging forth from the mouth of the Wallow.
Just as they were about to take the entrance with the damage dealers helping their tanks with ranged attacks, the composition of the goblins changed. Hobgoblins suddenly charged forward over the dead and fading corpses of their kin, forcing the tanks back with the sheer amount of bodies. The hobs at the front became battering rams, all too willing to take the damage to avoid a permanent end in the Wallow.
Drake was contemplating a costly multi Kamehameha, when suddenly a knight in full plate armor that he hadn''t really noticed before now formed a golden storm of death as they leapt over the wall of burly beastkin, and straight into the ranks of the hobgoblins. The figure shining with what had to be Laurelin’s divine light buried a glowing goblin axe in a hobgoblin’s skull, and then drew the giant golden greatsword on his back. It lit up with intricate runes along its length as the plate armored warrior intoned, “Retribution Aura…” A golden rune appeared below him in a large circle, catching the full entrance of the Wallow perfectly, as if it had been made for the purpose of covering that exact space.
Drake got a good look at him, in the moment before the hobgoblins surged towards him. He’d been with Class Three earlier, but hadn’t really stood out at the time. His name was listed as Aegis Bryllon. Class, Divine Slayer. Level forty two. Unlike most, there was also a title below his listed name: The Green Reaper. Titles like that were usually given only by the system, and only after killing an absurd amount of specific types of monsters. Drake didn''t have to guess what he''d killed to receive that one.
As the hobgoblins leapt at him, the armored knight flared with holy power, shouting, “DIVINE STORM!”
And that was exactly what erupted around him. A storm of swirling golden divine energy reduced the hobgoblins, and the lesser goblins among them, to ash as the raw energy touched their foul forms. Much like the variant of the move Drake was familiar with, the more enemies it hit, the higher chance Divine Storm had to activate again. Aegis advanced relentlessly, beheading any hob that came near him and didn’t immediately die. The tanks were right behind him, and seeing their momentum, the damage dealers and healers followed, forcing the goblins back into the Dungeon, and giving them a permanent end. Drake puzzled over the man’s name, in his head, as his copies advanced with the group.
Aegis Bryllon.
Having one hundred and ninety intelligence made rearranging the anagram the man’s name hid quite easy, and a wide smirk appeared under his hood. In his head, assuming the Goddess could hear him, he said, “Laurelin…you did say I was the only person you isekai’d other than Galdurath, right?”
He heard an amused giggle from the Goddess. “I’ve been known to guide a soul or two to a new life on Arcadia, from across the Multiverse…when their time in their own Universe comes to an end, of course. It’s not technically what you two nerds would call ‘isekai’. They were simply guided into rebirth here, and not in their own Universes.”
“Of course.” Drake said, "And I''m guessing he''s not the only one?"
"You''ll just have to traverse the world and find out how many there are." Laurelin answered with her amused tone.
Chuckling darkly, Drake followed after the man who was, quite possibly, the most ideal person one could want in a party dedicated to destroying a Dungeon full of goblins.
The classes chosen by Galdurath broke into their parties of four as they advanced down each tunnel. The other classes of first years and the lowbies from the Adventurer''s Guild remained outside, dealing with the goblins that had managed to escape in the fighting. Aside from their usual dark deeds, they could also potentially dig new tunnels into the Wallow if they had enough time and energy. Two parties guarded the entrance with Class Four’s Instructor, as his level was in the high nineties, and they would keep those inside from being overrun.
Tunnel by tunnel, they followed the established maps of the Wallow’s top level, and used their skills to block off cleared out dead ends. Drake’s clones all benefited from his Battlefield Awareness, and called out goblins wherever they found them. Eventually, they found the Floor Boss, and it was decided that the lowest level party would take them, with help from a Drake clone.
The Floor Boss wasn’t too interesting, just a slightly stronger than normal hobgoblin sitting in front of a rather shoddy treasure chest with his giant axe and bad attitude. Apparently, this meant the loot was the worst quality. Aegis wasn’t content to just sit and wait for them to finish, so he took the original Drake, and one other volunteer, a foxy female called Koreia, whose Dancer Class was able to synchronize with and even heal melee damage dealers like Drake and Aegis.
The other students were quite amused by the colorful cadre of Drakes, as the original departed with the other two to look for more goblins. They’d all agreed to go in groups for one more thorough sweep of the tunnels, and Drake entrusted Rose to black cloak while everyone else picked their favorite color of Drake. He personally wanted to probe Aegis for knowledge.
“You kill Goblins well.” The knight said, after a brief awkward silence, looking towards Drake, and not their vixen companion. “I heard about the Moblin Tyrant. I’ve only seen a Moblin down here once. At a distance. We didn’t have the supplies to kill it.”
Drake looked around with his perception skill again, but found nothing. “It was tough.” Drake admitted. “I thought for sure that I was dead when it pulled me under the fortress.”
Koreia’s twin white fluffy tails swished as she leaned closer to Drake and stared at him with her big orange-brown eyes. He blinked but didn’t otherwise react as she said, “You really faced the final phase of a Floor Boss infused by a shard of Dagorath all alone?”
Drake nodded, and allowed himself a confident smirk. “I did. I can actually punch things and heal sometimes, and that managed to keep me alive down there.”
Aegis cut in then, after confirming Drake hadn’t sensed anything. “The underground part of the fortress…I’ve heard you say that they had extensive tunnels down there. Do you remember how many?”
Drake thought for a moment. “I was focused mainly on trying not to die, but…hmm. Let me think for a moment.” Drake closed his eyes, and focused on blocking out the panic and fear in his memories as he recalled his fight. Once again, his enhanced brain helped him do this quite accurately, and quickly. “At least ten…and a large main one that seemed to head directly down at a sharp angle.”
Aegis stopped in his tracks. “You’re sure it headed downwards?” Drake nodded, and he swore. “The levels of a Dungeon are supposed to be choked by small but universal points. These are usually what keep the higher level Monsters in the lower levels.”
Drake’s eyes widened. “If they’re just tunneling past them…much stronger Goblins could be at the second level by now! Who knows how many years they’ve had…”
“And where else they’ve tunneled…” Aegis said, looking downward.
As if waiting for that revelation, a booming, omnipresent, and malicious laugh echoed through the tunnels. The three of them shared a look in the brief silence that followed. Drake blinked, and then looked down at his feet, as he felt a tremor through the ground, and as the Floor Boss team confirmed they had taken it down, one second later, the floor of the first layer began to collapse under them.
They tried to cling to the sides of the cave tunnels, but found them to be covered with some kind of foul, clear ichor they hadn''t noticed earlier. Almost instantly, the entirety of the three classes scattered through the tunnels of the Wallow’s first level were free falling to the second level. That might have been bad enough for most adventurers in the Wallow, but these were pretty high level, and the Final Boss was well aware of that.
Thus, to ensure their death, the entire second level of the Wallow had been reformed. Drake, who’d been there before, likened it to Mordor at the height of Sauron’s influence. The air was thick with heavy smoke, the overpowering stench of goblin filth, and the distant echoing howls of their canine mounts. Four black metal keeps occupied the cardinal directions of the level, with one massive black iron citadel in the space where the ruined fortress they''d battled the Moblin Tyrant had once been, guarding the entrance to the third level. Whoever their blacksmith was, they’d clearly been improving.
Then, as they fell further and people started flying and catching those who couldn’t, Drake saw it. What he’d mistaken for the rolling hills of green that had comprised the second level of the Dungeon last time were still there, but instead of grass, what awaited them at the end of their well over a thousand foot drop was a teeming horde of Goblins that filled the entire level of the Dungeon.