Blessed Time: The Complete Series: (A LitRPG Adventure Box Set), page 107
A fraction of a second later, the dungeon boss whipped her head toward where he’d attacked from, but there was nothing to see. Micah was already beneath her field of vision. The lizard chuffed in frustration. Then Micah thrust upward, his spear slashing open the monster’s neck and depositing more of the neurotoxin directly into the arteries feeding its brain.
She staggered for a second, obviously struggling with the amount of damage inflicted on her. Micah attacked again, stabbing his spear into the underside of her jaw. Once again, he willed the spear to inject poison, but at this point, he didn’t even know how necessary it was. The air-blade coating his spear tip severed half of the Monitor Queen’s tongue, reducing her fearsome jaws to a bloody mess of useless muscle and exposed bone.
Her scales began changing color again, flickering topaz as her body trembled. Micah jumped backwards, only to slip when his feet landed on an ice-covered patch of the dungeon. The Monitor Queen took a tentative step toward him, her remaining eye clouded and distant as blood poured from multiple wounds.
On his back, Micah prepared himself to cast binding vines, but his worry proved unnecessary. The dungeon boss’ legs gave out, spilling her to the floor as the venom coursing through her veins froze her muscles. Her breaths were labored, a painful rattle at the end of every chest movement as tremors shook the great lizard’s critically injured body.
Micah slumped to the dungeon floor, exhaling in relief once before rolling over and carefully returning to his feet on the slippery surface. Behind him, the battle was also over. Only Drekt had slain his myrmidon, a red-and-black lizard almost twice the size of the grass monitors but only coming up to their Queen’s shoulders.
Trevor’s myrmidon lay on the ground, helpless due to the disabled joints in all four of its legs. The river kraken was gnawing cheerfully on the side of its opponent, its tentacles wrapped around the struggling lizard and holding it immobile. As for the final monster, Leeka, Esther, Eris, and the animals didn’t have the sorts of weapons that could deal crippling damage to its bulk. Instead, they had stabbed and worried at the creature until it had fainted from blood loss.
“Yes yes!” Garrat called out excitedly, hurrying into the room now that the fight was winding down. “A great victory. Garrat has not seen its likes before. The way the Queen changed colors in order to use new powers—so magnificent! Garrat was especially impressed by the way the big warrior hacked his myrmidon apart. So brutal, so heroic!”
Micah touched the side of the Monitor Queen, casting coma before he began the process of healing the numerous wounds to stabilize her condition. From his spot at her side, he called out without looking away from his peculiar patient. “Trevor, this is a dungeon—and a high-level one at that. Collect the rewards for conquering it and let me know if there’s anything interesting.”
He’d finished closing most of the open cuts—stitching veins and flesh together just well enough to ensure that the giant lizard didn’t expire—and moved on to purging the neurotoxin when Trevor whistled in appreciation.
“There’s a big haul here, Micah,” Trevor said excitedly. “I don’t think I’ve seen anything this tailored before either. An enchanted cleaver, a magical bow and matching quiver, and a book.”
“What sort of book is it?” Drekt asked, walking over to where Trevor was going through their prizes in order to inspect the cleaver.
“It looks like a text or treatise of some kind,” Trevor replied uncertainly. “It seems the title is ‘The Practice and Principle of Magics Altering the Soul.’”
Micah sighed, casting a glance over at the other injured myrmidons that needed preserving so that he could use them in his enchanting.
“Of course it does, Trevor,” Micah said, his voice weary. “Why wouldn’t there be a rare text on soul magic? At least the gods are trying to help out this time. I suppose that’s an improvement.”
THIRTY-ONE
BROKEN HORN PASS
Micah sighed with relief as their group stepped out of the grass and into the afternoon light. He reached up, wiping sweat from his face before bringing his hand to his neck to touch the enchanted scrimshaw that hung there. Everyone in their group other than Garrat wore a matching medallion, the result of two days’ worth of study and work on Micah’s part.
The enchantments likely would have taken weeks without the help of the book that they had “happened” to earn as a reward for clearing the dungeon. Micah was excited to test out the defensive enchantments’ efficacy, especially after he had so badly miscalculated the ritual to remove the Pontiff’s influence over Anne. As best he could tell, the enchantments should be able to draw upon their wearer’s mana to blunt and deflect the sort of soul attacks that had made tangling with the Pontiff so difficult, but there was no way to be sure until they actually engaged the man or his followers in combat once again.
“Thank the Sixteen,” Trevor remarked gratefully as he stepped into the open to Micah’s left. “Even with the breathing room provided by the little guy, I thought the Grass Sea was going to drive me insane. After so many years in the desert, always having walls closing in on you was starting to make me a bit claustrophobic.”
“It’s not just you,” Leeka interjected, exiting the grass to stand next to the brothers. “I’ve spent most of my life in the jungle, and open spaces are a bit unnerving for me. Still, all those unbroken walls of grass without any features or gap in them? I’d be grateful to avoid a repeat encounter with all of that if possible.”
“The Azure Cliffs, yes yes,” Garrat said cheerfully. “One of the great borders of the Grass Sea. Only a couple of the bravest warriors have dared to scale them, and those that made it more than six hundred paces up their faces were attacked by the drakes that nest there. Very nasty. Many dead.”
“Well,” Micah replied, “we aren’t planning on climbing the cliffs. The plan is to travel under, not over them.”
“About that,” Trevor responded, taking another step into the sunlight and stretching his arms over his head. “Do we have any idea what to expect? All I know is that we’re supposed to raid the research laboratory of one of the greatest dark ritualists to ever live. This feels like the sort of thing that’s going to be filled with traps and monsters.”
“Probably,” Micah said with a shrug. “The gods told me where the tower was, but not much more than that. I’m honestly not sure if this is another one of their silly tests or if the gods just don’t know what’s going on in there.”
“That’s actually a reasonable point,” Drekt cut in as he exited the grass. “My understanding is that this Dakkora woman was aware that one or more of the gods were out to get her. Is it possible that she found a way to hide her tower from the gods’ sight?”
“That’s… very possible, actually,” Micah replied thoughtfully, reaching up to scratch the patchy stubble on his chin. “Dakkora had the support of some gods and was an outspoken enemy of others. She also had a lifetime’s worth of research and skill in the fields of enchantment and ritual magic. If anyone could find a way to hide their activities, it was her.”
Telivern walked primly out of the grass, shaking its head and snorting as it walked over to Micah and pressed the side of its neck against him. A second later, Ravi burst into the open, chased closely behind by Eris and Esther.
Exhaustion. Exasperated.
“It’s all right, buddy,” Micah chuckled, reaching up to stroke the stag’s fur. “They’re just a bit stir-crazy. Once we have some more excitement, they’ll calm down a little bit.”
Garrat interrupted their conversation by clapping his hands together gleefully. “Garrat has seen maps of location, yes yes? He can guide you to the cave where you are going, and then Garrat’s journey is done. He will not wait for you to finish your quest. I am sure you can understand that it is important for him to return to Swiftwater so that he can begin carving his scrimshaw.”
“Sounds good, Garrat,” Micah said, struggling to keep the relief from his voice. “We won’t want to keep you a moment longer than we need you. Drekt, Trevor, and I will be able to find our own ways home.”
“Garrat will miss you,” the small man shouted, bursting into tears as he elbowed past Telivern and wrapped his arms around Micah’s waist. “He has only spent a week or two with Micah Silver, but it has changed his lifetime. Garrat will always remember the kindness that Micah has shown to him.”
Disbelief. Annoyance.
“Shush now, Telivern,” Micah whispered hurriedly. “He means well.”
He reached down awkwardly, putting one hand on the smaller man’s tattooed back and patting him. Garrat’s body heaved, and Micah suspected that his stomach would have been damp if it wasn’t for the waterproof qualities of the Maarikava armor. To his side, Leeka and Trevor had hands over their mouths. Even as he watched, Trevor’s entire body shook from the struggle to avoid audibly laughing at his expense.
Then Garrat pulled away, wiping an arm across his nose and face while sniffing loudly. Micah didn’t look down at his armor, trying his hardest to maintain a polite facade after the emotional outburst from his guide.
“It was good spending time with you too,” Micah replied hesitantly, surprising himself when he realized that he more or less meant it. “There were times when you talked a little too much, but you grew on me. I really hope that the scrimshaw helps you with your romantic woes back in Swiftwater.”
“Yeah,” Trevor said, walking up and clapping Garrat on the shoulder, “I still think you need to learn that ‘stealth’ means ‘staying quiet,’ but I’ve worked with—and will work with—a lot worse people than you. You haven’t tried to sacrifice a villager yet, so cooperating with you was better than that time we were hired by Braaxhon the Despoiler at the very least.”
“Wow!” Garrat replied, wide-eyed as he looked from person to person. “Do you really mean it? Usually when Garrat says that he must go, the response is ‘good,’ or sneaking spice powder into his sleeping roll.”
“Sure,” Leeka responded. “You might not be able to fight, but you’re like Jakaw. A cheerful mascot that helps lift the group’s spirits. Without your constant stories and questions, we wouldn’t have had anything to do but look at grass all day.”
Micah tensed, waiting for Garrat to bristle at being compared to a small monkey that appeared to subsist off of dried fruit and people scratching him behind the ear.
“Thank you, thank you,” Garrat gushed. “You are powerful and respected warriors, and you shower Garrat with such praise. Garrat will make sure to inform everyone that he is friends with such strong warriors, yes yes.”
Micah looked uncomfortably at Drekt, but the big man just shrugged in response, refusing to interject in the off-kilter conversation.
“Then let’s go find the cave entrance,” Micah said, giving the smaller man a thumbs-up. “You’ll have a long journey back to Swiftwater, so the sooner we finish this off, the sooner you can head home and tell everyone about our friendship.”
“Yes yes!” Garrat shouted exultantly. “Follow Garrat. He has not been to the specific cave, but he knows the way to the valley that he believes the entrance to be in. It is not too far of a hike, but it will take some time, yes yes?”
“Sounds good, Garrat,” Micah replied, motioning with his hand for their guide to lead the way.
Barely five minutes later they were at the Azure Cliffs. They were more a light blue than azure, and even that coloration was rather blotchy. As best Micah could tell, there were mineral deposits in the cliff face that seeped out in the rain, staining the whitish-gray rock in wide swaths. From a distance, the color looked uniform, but up close it was much more mottled.
As for the cliff face itself, he was sure it was unnatural. The rock was smooth, almost polished, jutting up abruptly from the prairie. It almost looked like a wall, and a well-maintained one at that. Other than the strange blue dye painting its surface, there was no erosion or major alterations on the rock formation.
Simply glancing at the mountainous rock faces triggered a tingle from his Arcana skill. Whatever forces were at work, they weren’t natural.
Garrat scurried on ahead, clambering atop a pale blue boulder and glancing up at the sun before looking back at the rest of the party and motioning them forward. Micah trudged forward, stepping past the wall created by the cliffs and into Broken Horn Pass itself.
Mountains of splotchy rock towered on either side of them—not the sheer walls of the Azure Cliffs, but rather a steep ‘V’ shape. The angle of their stone-covered slopes was steep enough that climbing would be difficult, and any ascent with a wheeled vehicle would be outright impossible. The path through the mountains was about ten paces wide—enough to move one wagon at a time with a little bit of room to spare, and at a steady but noticeable upward grade.
Micah looked up at the blue-and-gray expanses on either side of their path, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. If the Pontiff or some bandits were going to launch an attack, this would be the perfect place to do it. So long as they found some way to climb partway up the steep slopes hemming the pass in, they could easily just rain arrows down on anyone passing below.
Despite keeping his eyes trained on the barren walls of the pass, nothing of note happened. They trudged for almost two hours, slowly but steadily ascending into the mountains without any sound to accompany them but the wind whistling through the gap in the Azure Cliffs.
Even Garrat, usually a source of constant, meaningless chatter, was strangely silent. Their footsteps echoed through around them, the crunch and clatter of rocks underfoot an unsettling counterpoint to the chilly gusts.
Finally, after just over two hours, Garrat waved them to a stop and ran ahead. About a minute later, he scurried back with a big grin on his face, practically hopping from foot to foot as he approached Micah.
“This is it, Micah Silver!” Garrat said happily, clapping his hands together. “There is a narrow passage underneath a collapsed rock up ahead. It is just where the map says—Garrat has taken you right to the cave!”
“We’ll see, Garrat,” Micah replied. “Show us to the pathway and we’ll see if there’s a cave at the end of the passage you found.”
“Yes, yes!” the little man exclaimed. “You follow Garrat now. He will show you where the secret pathway is, and then he will take you to the cave. You will see, Micah. Garrat is very reliable and helpful!”
“Of course,” Micah said, smiling down at Garrat.
Behind them, Telivern snorted dismissively, but he ignored his friend. The stag had spent most of the hike through the Grass Sea growing progressively more annoyed with their guide, and it could barely contain its opinion of him. Luckily the nomad couldn’t understand Telivern. Otherwise Micah would be forced to constantly apologize for a constant stream of rude and downright offensive commentary from the white deer.
Garrat took off at a jog. Micah joined him, excited to finally have some change in the monotony of the steep inclines on either side of the rocky trail. After about thirty seconds, the little man skidded to a stop, excitedly pointing to where a boulder had tumbled down the angled wall of the pass. Before Micah could say anything, Garrat hurried ahead, ducking around a corner of the boulder before continuing on.
He followed the small man, sidling around to the back of the boulder. There, an opening—maybe two paces high and wide—had been worn through the rock wall of the mountain by a small stream. There was barely a trickle of water now, but at one point there must have been a small river running through the stone, constantly widening the opening before pouring into the main pass.
Micah bent over, following Garrat into the tunnel. The walls were smooth with age, and the passage in general was big enough that Drekt and Telivern wouldn’t have too much of a problem, but anything bigger than them would likely be unable to make it.
After two or so minutes of fumbling through the darkness, Micah stepped into the open. They were in another valley, but this time the walls were almost vertical. There wasn’t the polished smoothness of the Azure Cliffs themselves, but Micah suspected that climbing them would be difficult if not impossible for a forgotten. Even a blessed with a physical class would struggle to make it above head level.
He set out after Garrat once again. The rest of the party shuffled behind Micah, struggling to make their way through the short tunnel and follow the guide along the narrow trail. More than once Micah’s shoulder brushed against the stone walls as the guide clambered over the increasingly rough terrain.
Finally, after almost a half-hour in the claustrophobic passage, the trail suddenly opened up, changing from two paces wide to five or six even as it abruptly began to slope downward. Micah stepped to the side, taking advantage of the extra room to wait for the rest of the party to catch up.
Further down the path, Garrat shouted something indecipherable. Micah ignored him; there would be time to track the guide down and question him once they were all together. There was just something about the narrow passes and high walls that set him on edge, like there could be an ambush around any corner.
Once Trevor and Drekt had joined Micah, they began walking once again. Leeka, Esther, and Eris filed in after them, with Ravi and Telivern bringing the rear. About five minutes later they found Garrat sitting on a rock. Next to him was a hole rent in the side of the mountain. Micah couldn’t see how deep the dark crevice went, but there was little doubt. This was the entrance to the maze of caverns that led to Dakkora’s Tower.
“Micah!” Garrat hopped to his feet, standing triumphantly atop the boulder. “Garrat found the entrance, yes yes? He did a good job?”
“Yeah, you did a good job,” Micah replied, flashing a thumbs-up at the guide. “Thanks for all of your help this past week. We never could have made it this far without you.”
