Shadowcroft Academy For Dungeons: Year Two, page 28
With a thought, Logan sent Noodle and his pack of Spore Wargs through the town, lifting their legs over doors and splashing every corner with a stench of their own. Even to Logan, it was rank.
Logan contacted Tet.
The cat woman didn’t bother to conceal her grumble. She faltered for a moment.
Logan couldn’t help but laugh.
He felt powerful as he walked through the town, spreading his Eyelash Stinkhorn far and wide, then throwing out his Rapid Growth to get his mushrooms creeping around windows and sprouting on the other side of doors. Not a minute later, people started shouting.
“Dear gods, Wallace!” someone shouted in the distance. “Who farted! It’s unbearable. You should seek medical help!”
“What is that ungodly smell?” came another voice from a nearby house.
Soon a chorus of disgust was ringing out in the night.
He met up with Tet at the grand mansion south of the fountain. In real life, this was where the mayor lived. Tet casually flung a bolt of green energy—her Cryptonic Missile—into the manor and destroyed not just a window but a good chunk of frame around it. Then she raised her dark paws. A cloud of black scarabs skittered out of her hands and into the house. Those scarabs immediately began to chew on the timbers and load-bearing beams.
That was when Tet let out a scream of pure feline evil. “Doom has come to Vralkag! All must leave or suffer the consequences! Flee or die! Flee or die!”
“Oh, gods, the smell!” someone screamed. “Save us from the smell!”
“That is the smell of your doom!” Tet shrieked. “The doom that has come to Vralkag!”
The sound of the scarabs chewing up the house was nearly deafening. A robust woman in a nightgown and nightcap came rushing out holding a baby and trailing a few older kids. She let out a yell. “Dammit, Rosencrantz, you promised the monsters would only try to destroy the guildhall, not our house!”
Tet was a bit more concerned than that.
He triggered his Pneumacity ability once more, leaping from wall to wall, until he was standing on the eave of a house where people streamed out the front door.
Tet had her Feline Agility, and she had parkour moves of her own. Soon both were standing on the slanted wooden shingles, staring down with smug smiles at their handiwork. The snow continued to fall, so it was a bit slippery, but Tet had her claws to keep her steady. Logan felt his big floppy mushroom feet slipping, so he added a couple mushroom growths, Ghoul’s Snare, to keep him rooted to the spot. It was madness down on the ground—families running madly in an attempt to escape the pervading stench. People were chattering about the Doom that Came to Vralkag—this was the power of the smelly cat! Inga wasn’t around, so Logan didn’t drop the Friends reference.
Tet had Bajjy and her Mew Serpents out of sight, circling through the north part of the town so they could hit the guildhall from the west. Logan sent Noodle and his Spore Wargs on a southern route to join the kitties. Their plan was to hit the guildhall hard, destroy that structure, and then move down south to the two inns, the Unlikely Unicorn and the Game of Bones Tavern. However, both Tet and Logan could get started on that attack with another collection of their minions. Since hitting B-Class, Logan was amazed at how many creatures he could summon while at the same time growing his mushrooms.
Right on schedule, Sir Rosencrantz Brandybutter came trotting down flanked by Feathers, the harbinger of the Bald Phoenix, as well as the Magnificent Morty Mercutio Mimsy. A light dusting of snow covered his wizard hat and robes.
Logan pointed.
Herding the throng out of the eastern gate was Sir Mediocritus in his very plain armor with his very straight sword. He was working with Hallsee the Sad, who was red-faced and pale. With them was Daggers McFinn. All looked stricken by the overpowering yuck of Logan’s Eyelash Stinkhorns and the potent litter-box stink from the Mew Serpents. That would’ve been bad, but the Spore Wargs had made it even worse.
Tet shrugged.
Logan shifted his consciousness into Noodle. The world swam before his eyes, and suddenly he saw what the Mew Serpents were seeing, the big barbarian in his skins and chainmail, leaning on his battle-ax, standing guard at the front of the grand hall. He had thick wads of fabric shoved into his nostrils. The smell might be potent enough to drive the civilians out, but Arfgar and the rest of the guild members weren’t going to flee, no matter how rancid the stench. But that was fine. Logan had no delusions that this night would be completely violence free. Thankfully, he had no reservations about taking out dungeoneers.
Logan switched back to his guardian form. From their vantage point, they could see the back of the guildhall. The windows were dark and empty. Perfect. Too perfect.
Tet’s eyes flashed a noxious green color. She opened her hand, and there was one of her scarabs.
Tet slipped noiselessly to the ground, landing in a crouch.
Logan drifted down. In the alley, they called forth their next batch of minions. The fun was only just beginning...
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Tet let her scarab drop to the ground, and it started to grow and didn’t stop until it was a massive creature, covered in glossy black armor, with curved swords instead of mandibles—actually, they were massive khopeshes, swinging back and forth in front of the tank-sized scarab.
At the same time, Logan drew forth his Skullcap Waddlers, armed with Crimson Coral blades attached to sturdy sticks. Mariah Carey raised her weapon. She was about to let out a mighty war cry when Logan shushed her.
Mariah saluted him. The other little mushroom dudes looked at their leader with wonder, blinking like stunned fangirls. They then saluted Logan as well.
The tank, along with its host of mushroom riders, scuttled off down the snowy street.
Tet and Logan took off in the opposite direction, jogging to the back of the guildhall. Their pups and kits were still in the front, waiting in the shadows, watching Arfgar, who was pacing and hitting a big flagon of ale every once in a while. He had a bundle of clanking throwing axes on a leather belt slung over his shoulder. To the east, the townspeople continued to shriek and flee. To the south, people were leaving in droves, unable or unwilling to handle the stink, filling the air like a plague.
Tet tossed off a couple of her Cryptonic Missiles to shatter the windows.
Snarls erupted from the back side of the guildhall.
In the front, Arfgar howled in fury and surprise. “Cloud Deaths dive!” he bellowed. “Furry Fangs bite!”
Logan sent Noodle and his litter mates to help.
From above, a giant eagle emerged from the clouds, soaring down through the snow with its claws outstretched. From inside the hall, the snarls were from dire wolves—monstrous wolf-like creatures with red slits for eyes and huge fangs dripping slobber. Ah. These must be the Furry Fangs.
His gills exploded in a storm of yellow Pollinic Affliction spores. One of the wolves fell into a fit of sneezing, blowing out big wads of mucus. All that sinus action halted the monster in its tracks.
The other dire wolf charged. Logan called forth his ruby shield from his Ring of Pockets and triggered his armor. Simultaneously, his body expanded upward and outward as his fungal exoskeleton thickened. A flick of his ring, and he gripped a silver short sword. Logan was no longer the weak, squishy fungaloid he’d been at Iron Trunk. Now he was a battle tank, ready to go toe to toe with whatever Arfgar had to throw at him.
Meanwhile, Tet thrust one hand straight out and unleashed more queasy green Cryptonic Missiles. A barrage of noxious magic slammed into the incoming eagle. The creature squawked in shock and wheeled around, beating a hasty retreat at Tet’s ferocious onslaught. But Arfgar had used a definite plural in his call to arms. Another giant bird of prey descended and dropped down to help Arfgar fight off the Mew Serpents and the Spore Wargs.
The second dire wolf attacked Logan with ferocious rage, its lips pulled back from drooling fangs. The thing was enormous, the size of a horse, and Logan barely escaped losing a limb with his shield. The creature slammed its shoulder into Logan’s chest, knocking him backward.
Tet’s claws thickened into daggers, her hands swelling in size, and she stepped in, slashing into the dire wolf, which growled and snarled and spat, desperate to sink its teeth into the cat woman.
Logan saw his chance and lunged forward, driving his short sword into the creature’s temporarily exposed ribs. His blade cut through fur and meat with ease; the tip found the thing’s heart, and it slumped to the side.
The other dire wolf continued to sneeze and snort, pulling in ragged breaths as it lay down in obvious pain. Was this a case of mortal sneezing?
Sadly, they never had the chance to find out.
Tet sped over and cut the dire wolf’s throat, because you can’t fight and sneeze at the same time.
Logan blinked and put his consciousness in Noodle, who was scurrying away from the outstretched claws of the giant eagle. From the front of the hall burst another couple dire wolves. One latched onto a Mew Serpent and shook it like a rag doll. The other ripped the throat out of a Spore Warg, though the monster wolf then went into a fit of disgust because the warg tasted terrible.
Arfgar plucked a throwing ax off his belt and hurled it into Noodle—right into his back leg. The warrior flexed his left hand, and a blinding circle of light enveloped his arm, a magical shield if there ever was one. In his right hand, he held the battle-ax. The barbarian’s animal summoning was new, as was the shield, but that wasn’t all. The barbarian slammed his battle-ax into one of the Spore Wargs, cutting it in half. A moment later, a phantom blade erupted from the wound and struck a second warg who yelped, wounded, but still alive.
Arfgar had to be fighting as a B-Class cultivator, because he was full of tricks.
But so was Bajjy.
When Arfgar tried to sweep his ax into her, the Mew Serpent vanished in a puff of inky smoke, only to reappear behind him—ready to strike. A loud screech cut through the night as one of the eagles swooped down and slashed through the cat-cobra’s scaly hide before the Mew Serpent could land a single blow against Arfgar.
Logan was already running low on Apothos, but he’d primed himself for this particular party. He had half of a rotting sheep in his digestion pit, and he could feel the flow of Apothos from his room. It wasn’t necessarily cheating.
Logan brought forth his Kurrybooboos in a rain of spores. The little guys grew into glowing, light-as-air mushroom men, and he sent them bounding off to help their fellow minions at the front of the building. In seconds, the Kurrybooboos had removed the ax from Noodle and were healing the wound. They also took care of the other Spore Warg who had been hit by Arfgar’s phantom ax.
While the healers did their job, Logan got ready for more mushroom magic.
Putting Arfgar from his mind for the moment, Logan quickly ducked through the hole he’d blown in the wall and started growing his Gem-studded Puffballs around the wooden pillars in the center of the building. It was going to be a nice piece of demolition. That done, he grew little knots of mushrooms at intervals all the way to the front door.
Before he ducked out front, he flung his consciousness into Mariah Carey to see how things were progressing. The Khopesh Beetle smashed into the back of the Game of Bones Tavern while the waddlers swarmed in, swords swinging. There were a couple of no-name adventurers drinking there—probably too drunk to be bothered by the smell—but they were soon overwhelmed by the waddlers.
The fire had burned low in the hearth, but those red coals could be used to burn that place to the ground with only a little effort. Unfortunately, waddlers were terrified of flames—fire and mushrooms just didn’t go together unless a nice Bordelaise sauce was involved.
But with Logan riding shotgun inside of Mariah, he could handle that little problem. He darted forward on stubby legs, the world swaying uncertainty around him as he ran. With equally stubby fingers, Logan pulled free a crude shovel that he’d packed for just this occasion. He hustled over to the hearth and went to work, flinging the glowing coals onto the whiskey-soaked bar. The bartender was long gone. He’d sprinted screaming out into the snowy night at the sight of the sword-faced beetle tank coming through the wall like an Egyptian-era Kool-Aid Man.
The bar ignited with a woosh, the waddlers squealed in fear.
Which meant it was time to get the beetle and the waddlers out of there. They left through another wall while the Game of Bones Tavern burned like a Yule log behind them. They stormed through the empty streets, now lit by the flickering light, heading toward the Unlikely Unicorn.
However, it was a bit more west than they could reach—both Logan and Tet were restricted by the Area of Influence, and those minions were already at the very edge. He could hardly feel Mariah. This was a problem. Time to move.
Logan burst out of the guildhall, wheezing and shaky limbed. After summoning all those minions and his Gem-studded Puffballs, he was running on E when it came to Apothos. The only thing keeping him on his feet was his bond with Tet. She was a more powerful cultivator than him, and the fact that she still had a reserve of energy in her core proved it. Thanks to their bond, though, Logan could draw on a portion of that energy as well. Strength in friendship!
Arfgar and Tet were locked in a battle to the death. Two of the dire wolves and one of the eagles were dead, lying in pools of blood. However, two other dire wolves formed in darkness, Arfgar calling forth more of his troops. Another eagle circled overhead, ready to rip apart anything that got in its way. Including poor Tet. Logan couldn’t let that happen, but he also didn’t have the energy to stop them.
That he could rectify, though.
With an effort of sheer will, Logan opened a digestion pit in the mouth of a nearby alley then took control of Noodle. His mind invaded the body of the enormous Spore Warg, and he moved in a blaze, stealing across the cobblestone street. With powerful jaws, he latched onto one of the dead dire wolves and dragged the creature over to the pit, hurling the beast into it with a flick of his head. The corpse landed with a splash, and Logan’s powerful digestive acids immediately went to work, breaking down flesh and sinew and bone, converting them to delicious Apothos.
A fresh wave of energy surged into Logan.
Still in control of Noodle, he made a run at the second dead dire wolf, hoping to add another body to his digestive stew. The eagle wasn’t having any of it, though. It dove with a screech, talons thrust forward like gleaming daggers. A terrible choice. Logan ducked his head and curled his lupine limbs inwards—he looked almost like an oversized roly poly. Except his back was studded with wicked spikes and Blister Wart. The eagle slammed into Logan’s side like a freight train. Logan barely felt it through Noodle’s thick hide.
His spikes impaled the giant bird, and when the eagle tried to flap its way to freedom, Noodle’s barbs held fast.
Another Spore Warg leapt up and latched onto the eagle’s wing, pulling it down, while one of the last surviving Mew Serpents bolted forward and clamped onto the bird’s neck with wicked fangs. The eagle slumped dead to the ground, and it took only a few seconds to haul it into the digestion pit along with its wolfy brother. Another wave of energy hit Logan, putting a bounce in his step.
Tet had been trading blows with Arfgar, but she had the dexterity to avoid his ax, and his radiant shield blocked her dagger-long claws. Once Logan gave her the all-clear, she flung herself onto the barbarian, gripped his skins and chainmail in her claws, and hurled him backward into the doorway of the guildhall. Tet landed on her feet and sped away in a blur of fur and pumping legs.
The barbarian gained his footing quickly enough, but his boots triggered the Gem-studded Puffballs. The initial explosion turned Arfgar into ashes and set off a chain reaction. Like dominos falling, clusters of the puffballs erupted across the floor of the building until the main clumps around the central support pillars ignited. Every window was blown into glass fragments, all support inside the hall crumbled, and the entire structure fell in on itself. Plumes of smoke, dust, and debris boiled out of the ruins.
