Chapter 9
When the Weak Break
Ω
The air within the dungeon this day was cold and bitter, attesting well to the changing of the season. Harvest was long behind now, its autumn breezes a forgotten memory, and Freeze was thoroughly settling in for the long haul. Even the halls of the dungeon, nestled deep in the ground beneath the monstrous Babel Tower, were no exception to the penetrating chill that now wandered the winds. Just within the first few rooms of floor six, in a particularly large square of a room, stood a small party of adventurers. This group might have been marveling at the magnificent cold this day were they not so thoroughly surrounded by killer ants and dire rabbits.
The chestnut eyes of a young prum leapt back and forth between the throng of insects, now thoroughly unnerved at an all too familiar sight. This very same horror had been the setting to what she had once assumed would be her death. Surrounded on all sides by the clicking mandibles of the massive ants, their compound eyes baring down upon her. Yet this time was different, as she was also surrounded by companions. Nay, this time she was surrounded by friends and she knew her life was in good hands.
Yet even still, with capable adventurers fanned out around her, the prum's nerves stood somewhat on end as the insects chattered away. It was quite the welcomed relief when their din was broken with a sudden shout, followed swiftly by the crackling of some twisted combination of lightning and fire.
"Firebolt!" shouted a whitehaired boy, setting the room ablaze.
"Now!" called another, his hair the dark brown of strong coffee.
Both he and the redhead charged out to either side into the crowd of ants. They ran almost as if racing to make contact with the critters before the boy's spell. The results were, at least for the monsters, quite disastrous. This even more so once the whitehaired one joined the fray. From all around resounded the pained shrieks of the insects as they were cut down, burnt and crushed one by one.
"Bell, I can't catch that one!" the redhead shouted, referring to an ant that had broken off toward the prum.
The whitehaired boy broke off immediately, closing the three or so meters to the ant rushing toward Lily. A bright flash of violet light cut across her field of view, the ant splitting in half before bursting into a cloud of dust. A weakly glowing stone dropped to the floor where it had stood, bouncing twice before coming to a rest.
With a reassuring smile the boy turned and leapt back into the fray, now mostly over through the efforts of his fellow fighters. A few minutes more of the flashes and clangs of their melee and silence once more crept into the room. In almost no time at all the group had dispatched a veritable horde of the creepy crawlers. The prum smiled in amazement, staring wonderingly at the many magic-stones lying all across the ground. Admiring the sparkling stones a moment longer, like stars scattered across the heavens, the prum set about her duty of gathering the dropped items.
"You've really gotten the hang of this, Linc." the redhead stated proudly.
"Yeah, I feel like you've improved a lot the last couple days." Bell concurred.
Lincoln just smiled humbly at the praise, sheathing his blade with satisfaction as they watched Lily go about collecting the loot. It had been a full twelve days now since his training had begun. In that time, despite the difficulties of the first week, he had made leaps and bounds through his efforts. With all the practice and the patience of his fellows, Lincoln had gotten a solid grasp on a wide variety of techniques and stances.
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Is a Gamble Worth a Gander?
FanfictionOrario, city over the dungeon. Adventurers blessed by the gods and goddesses of their familias gather here to make their fortune. A faithful brother has come here to do much the same. A failed blacksmith's apprentice, he turns to the promises of wea...
