Dungeon Tour Guide: A LitRPG Adventure, page 33
“I brought [Analyst] Salman because he’s the best we have on-site,” Jackson said. “We do guard duty for him from time to time.”
“I am sufficiently high enough in the Alder Corporation’s hierarchy to warrant this interview requiring a security clearance,” the [Analyst] continued. “This interview will be conducted by myself and any of the three aforementioned individuals. The interview subject is a Kingsguard prisoner, name unknown… [Divine Assassin].”
He’d used an [Appraise]-type skill at the tail end of his sentence, which was unsurprising. I supposed he hadn’t bothered using one on me because he thought I’d be a non-factor in this interview? Or maybe ‘dungeonbound’ was the only descriptor he needed of me.
“I have been informed that you are a [Healer],” Salman said, addressing me. “Is this correct?”
I nodded. That explained why he hadn’t [Appraise]d me.
“I request for you to sufficiently heal the interviewee to a conscious state.” The [Analyst]’s eyes roamed over the Kingsguard, taking in the rather extensive restraints I’d subjected him to. “Restraints appear… effective.”
“The dungeon ’as a mind of its own,” Ed supplied. “Built them right over him when it attacked Lucas ’ere.”
“Understood,” the [Analyst] said. “[Healer] Lucas, I will repeat my request.”
“I got it,” I said, passing in a bog standard [Healing Stream] combined with a [Multiplicative Heal]. At the level I cast it at, he’d be conscious in less than thirty seconds no matter how hard a hit he’d taken.
Hopefully, the rock would be enough. I’d thought that just cuffing his limbs would be enough at first, but I’d reevaluated as Ed destroyed me at cards.
Most spells required both a verbal and somatic component—well, they called them the voice and gesture here, but I liked my terminology better.
Anyway, there was nothing I could do about his voice. The Kingsguard needed it to talk, after all, so there was no gagging him or anything. As to the somatic components, there were certain spells that had gestures as simple as moving a few fingers. That meant that letting his hands be free was a no-go, so I’d just chosen to grow stone around them, completely encasing the bulk of his limbs in the rock.
That said, there were some spells that only needed a verbal component, and that list, unfortunately, included most movement spells, including [Shadow Step]. Fortunately for us, [Darkness] required somatic components, and I was pretty sure that [Shadow Step] wouldn’t function without deep darkness to utilize.
All we could do was be ready to recapture him if he had other mobility.
As I healed the Kingsguard, I felt the familiar manipulation of mana, a weave of it settling into the area that the man occupied. The [Analyst]’s chosen spell for this interrogation was going to be a [Zone of Truth], then.
Magic did make interrogations far more effective in this world, I had to admit. Knowing that the person you were interrogating wasn’t just making up false information to appease you was incredibly handy.
Salman remained standing at attention, hands clasped behind his back, and I had to wonder whether that was an intimidation tactic of some kind—to loom over the prisoner and bring out the truth or whatever psychological shit that involved. I’d been a STEM major on Earth, not a psych one, so all I could do was speculate.
The Kingsguard gasped awake as my healing pushed him over the threshold, and I toned it down, turning a torrent of [Healing Stream]s into a trickle. Just enough to keep him awake and lucid, but not enough to give him the opportunity to figure out what spells he could potentially use to get out of here.
“Kingsguard,” the [Analyst] said. “You’re a long way from home.”
“A suit, eh?” the Kingsguard said, his lips splitting to reveal a bloody smile. “Haven’t seen one of your like in years, old man.”
Salman didn’t reply, his expression unchanged. “You admit you are Kingsguard, then.”
“Of course I am,” the [Divine Assassin] said, sounding remarkably at ease for his current position. He wasn’t even struggling against his bonds. “What did you take me for? Another talentless monkey?”
“You attempted to assassinate a dungeonbound, attacking two of my employees in the process,” the [Analyst] replied, still stone-cold. He hadn’t moved an inch, though his words continued etching into the fabric of his [Record]. “Is this correct?”
“I must admit, the [Healer] surprised me,” the still-anonymous man replied. “The other two were helpless lambs to the slaughter at first. The one who wields the shield lives only due to the generosity of another.”
Jackson winced at that remark. His reaction got another smile out of the [Divine Assassin].
“Why were you here?” Salman asked.
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” the Kingsguard replied, his smile growing cockier.
“He said that there’d been previous Kingsguard who went missing in this area,” Jackson supplied.
“I recall the incident reports,” Salman said, nodding. “Your two scouts. Why were they in the area?”
The Kingsguard cocked his head, apparently thinking on his answer.
“I feel that it is necessary to divulge the following information,” the [Analyst] said. “Due to the nature of how Ketz’s court system works, I will be able to grant you amnesty if you cooperate. You will be freed if you answer to the best of your will.”
“Wh—” Ed’s complaint stopped before he could even finish his first word, his fellow adventurer placing a hand on his shoulder.
“He ’as this handled,” Jackson said.
Jackson had been briefed outside, then. From how much he’d wanted to kill the Kingsguard earlier and how calm and unsurprised he was now, then…
Yeah, the [Analyst] was definitely lying. There was no way he was letting a threat this big get away in one piece.
“The last transmission from the scouts was that they were going after thieves,” my prisoner said. “We lost contact with them after.”
That fast? He’d barely even thought about Salman’s offer before accepting it. Was he that willing to sell out his kingdom?
“You’re leaving out information,” Salman sighed, the mana of a passive skill flaring. “What was stolen?”
“Artifact. We have more.”
That didn’t narrow it down much, but I suspected that we might not get anything else out of this. Salman asked a few more questions along the same line, but they didn’t really seem to get him anywhere.
I might have to ask Minus One about that. I did recall the first Kingsguard who’d invaded me saying something about chasing thieves, but I had never quite figured out what that was. Given the increasing frequency of their attacks, maybe the thing that M-1 had taken was actually something relevant to the Omen in the south.
“Will there be others after you?”
“What do you think? Of course!”
Fuck me, the Kingsguard sounded like he was having fun.
“There’ll be many, many more,” he said. “Until our forces blot out the sun and your crops perish under our blight.”
“What locations will be targeted?” Salman asked.
“This place, of course,” he said. “Nobody will stop because they heard of my defeat. We’ll send more and more. We’ll send an army if we have to, and the unworthy will drown in the Omen’s fury.”
Wow. That was… certainly something. I’d already suspected that there was going to be more follow-up after this guy anyway—if the scouts disappearing was enough to get the Omen king to send a level 15 after me, what was the disappearance of the level 15 going to warrant?
I had to be ready for war.
“What other targets?” the [Analyst] asked. “Your life may depend on your answers here. A non-response will be treated as a threat.”
“Everywhere,” the Kingsguard said, his eyes wild. “Here, the royal’s capital, the borders, the farms, the dungeons, anywhere and everywhere. We will not stop.”
“Then—”
“What you are witnessing,” the Kingsguard continued, interrupting the [Analyst]’s words, “is the calm before the storm. The omen before the Omen. His wrath will make itself known, and—”
“That’s all very well and good,” the [Analyst] interrupted, slight annoyance creeping into his voice. “Can you tell us about the capabilities of the Omen? And why mobilize now when the two kingdoms have been at peace for years?”
“There is no peace,” the Kingsguard replied. “There was never a peace. There will never be a peace. Your peace is the blindfold you wrapped around your own eyes, talentless one.”
“Great,” Salman replied, massaging his forehead. At some point during the conversation, the Kingsguard had gotten to him, breaking past the stone-cold facade he’d put up earlier. “Goddess, this is going to be a pain to report.”
“What’re the capabilities of your king?” Jackson asked. “You didn’t answer that.”
“Won’t say,” the Kingsguard replied.
“I have everything else I need,” the [Analyst] said, turning and giving me a stare that I couldn’t quite parse. “You may continue questioning at will.”
“Your life is on the line here,” Ed reminded the Kingsguard. “How many soldiers? How much power? How high-leveled is the Omen?”
“Higher than you,” the Kingsguard said. “More powerful than you.”
Ed nocked an arrow. “Dodge the question one more time and it’s your life, ya piece of shit.”
The [Analyst] must’ve had some mana detection ability up because he noticed it at the same time I did.
Fuck. I started using [Reshape] as fast as I could, trying to grow stone over his mouth, but it wouldn’t be fast enough.
“Get down!” the [Analyst] shouted, taking his own advice and diving away.
We heeded his words, sprinting away, and as we did, the Kingsguard screamed an unearthly noise that tore at reality itself.
[Power Word: Martyrdom], the Kingsguard declared, and then the world was fire and light.
Chapter 45
Getting hit by an explosion was never fun, though it was a little more common than one might expect. During my brief time as an adventurer and my ongoing stint as a dungeon, I’d suffered through at least four or five major ones, and it was probably never going to get any easier.
Thankfully, stacking together a few resistances to pain, force, fire, and such—provided to me as part of the suite of spells offered by [Divine Healer], of course—meant that I wouldn’t suffer too much from the hit.
Still, I was never going to get used to the sensation of being fully lifted off the ground by the force of someone else’s spell, to the dulled sting of raging flames searing my skin off, to the impacts of shrapnel on my skin.
The entire process took less than a second, but with my dungeon half’s mind working overtime, it felt like far longer than that.
I saw the air itself ripple as the force of the spell ripped out towards us, hitting Jackson, then me, and then the other two. I watched as the fiery rage of the Kingsguard’s last fuck-you engulfed all of us for the briefest of seconds, observing the stone he’d been encased in shatter and fly at us like so many flechettes.
It would be over in an instant, but even that much was enough for me to evaluate what needed to happen.
Ed first, then the [Analyst]. Despite being the closest, Jackson had managed to reactivate his shield, though the angle it was at wasn’t the best. He would probably suffer injuries, but nothing life-threatening. Ed and the [Analyst], on the other hand, were farther away from the blast than I was, but neither of them had any protection.
I hit the ground, jostling my thoughts, and then I felt a sensation that once would’ve been pain. Now, it felt more like a deeply uncomfortable shiver up my spine each time something new landed.
Alright. I could deal.
First, what issues did I have? [Divine Healer] meant that I couldn’t actually heal myself without healing others, but knowing the damage I’d taken would be pretty important.
I went to cast a [Triage] on myself, but when I opened my mouth to speak the required command phrase for it, I found my words getting caught in my throat. Something about its soreness was keeping me from speaking, which I found a little odd.
When I clutched at my throat, I found out why. I slid my hand up my neck but before I could massage it, my hand made contact with a rough, oblong surface.
If I could’ve sighed without putting my life in danger, I would’ve. Using my dungeon senses told me that yep, I had indeed gotten a chunk of rock about an inch and a half wide and thrice as long stuck straight through my throat. Accompanying it were a few dozen other less major injuries, including a finger that had been blasted off, a leg that was definitely broken given the way it caved when I tried to put weight on it, and probably a bunch of internal injuries that I couldn’t clock without heavily focusing or using [Triage].
Right. Okay. I’d almost forgotten how much [Divine Healer] reduced the amount of pain I felt. I could’ve mistaken my current condition for normal, and that would’ve certainly led to my death if I hadn’t been careful.
This was fine. I wasn’t actually able to heal myself—a rare restriction for a [Healer], but it was one of [Divine Healer]’s few drawbacks—but I would start restoring my body if I helped heal others.
Jackson was fine. He’d still need healing—there were a few burns and lacerations that would certainly get infected if he let them fester—but of the four of us, he’d been the least injured. It looked like he hadn’t had time or the presence of mind to enlarge his shield, since he’d still been hurt and hadn’t been able to protect any of us, but he was intact enough to get to later.
The [Analyst], conversely, was doing a fair bit worse. I couldn’t [Triage] him, but I could see that he had some pretty nasty external burns. Parts of his skin had been singed black, and he was bleeding in a dozen places where shrapnel had struck him. The force of the blow might’ve given him a concussion, too, since he was unconscious. Still breathing, at least.
Ed was dead.
Thank the goddess, it wasn’t an irreparable death. A solid strike to the chest had crumpled it in, and the following blast of stones made into deadly projectiles had torn his heart out, which had been enough to kill him before I’d fully recovered from the shock of the blast.
What mattered was that it had been less than five minutes, and his head and most of his body was still intact. [Revivify] was the only death-curing spell I had, and it was a lot more restricted than [Resurrection]-type spells, which were considerably higher-leveled.
Have to time this right. I was feeling a little woozy even through the pain-reducing effects of my unique skill, which was never a good sign. The last time I’d felt anything resembling pain, I’d died and turned into this mess here.
I made my way to the bloody corpse, each step placed carefully and deliberately. On my third step, my right leg buckled under me, the broken limb not supporting my weight.
Fuck me.
I picked up a small rock from the ground and tossed it at Jackson. Still can’t talk. That’s annoying.
The [Shieldbearer] cried out in pain—apparently, not having a skill to mitigate how much things hurt meant that his comparably minor wounds hurt more than mine—but he did turn to look at me.
He cried out again at the sight of me and his companion’s body, but I ignored his words, pointing at me and then the dead [Arcane Archer].
My arms weren’t working amazingly well, but thankfully, he got the point.
“You can heal him? Also, you’re alive?”
In lieu of a nod, I gave him a thumbs-up. Hurry up, or this fucking rock is going to change that answer.
Jackson supported me wordlessly the rest of the way there, bending down to let me sling an arm around his shoulders. My legs were still fritzing out on me, but he was able to get me to his companion. He was unflinching in his support, at least.
I tried to take a deep breath in, but the obstruction currently jammed through my neck wasn’t very conducive to that, so I settled for just steeling myself mentally, placing a hand on the shrapnel that’d pierced me.
Three, two, one—
With all the remaining force in my burnt arms, I tore the stone out.
“What the fuck?” Jackson shouted, jumping back.
Blood geysered from my throat immediately afterward, warm liquid spraying at my chin and chest. I had to admit it was a little disconcerting to not feel the pain associated with that—
Focus. With this rate of blood loss, I wouldn’t have long if I didn’t start casting.
[Revivify] needed both verbal and somatic components. My hands were functional enough to cast, and with the obstruction removed, I had enough remaining of my vocal cords to gasp out the command phrase.
The spell took effect immediately, knitting together torn flesh and regrowing lost organs. It couldn’t have happened soon enough.
[Divine Healer] triggered as I brought the [Arcane Archer] back from just beyond death’s door, closing the most severe of my wounds.
I coughed as the spell progressed, hacking up the accumulated blood of the life-ending injury I’d just taken.
My throat felt normal again, so I tried speaking. “Ow.”
“Is he alive?” Jackson asked.
“In a second,” I said, wincing as bone realigned itself. “Just—”
“You better not fuck this up,” he warned me.
“Give me some space, okay? You saw, well—” I glanced down and gestured at myself, towards my blood-soaked cloak. “I’m doing my best.”
Ed gasped awake, the sound weak enough that Jackson didn’t catch it.
“He’s alive,” I said, passing him a [Spare the Dying]. [Revivify] brought you from one side of death to the other, but it didn’t take you much further. “I’ll have him stabilized in a second. I need to tend to the [Analyst] afterwards.”
I sent a [Rejuvenating Pulse] and several [Multiplicative Heal]s at the [Arcane Archer]. Each of them exhausted more mana than the last, but any job worth doing was worth doing well. I wasn’t going to let him die.
