Azarinth Healer: Book Three - A LitRPG Adventure, page 53
“And you want to get them out. I have heard of the Taleen. Elusive dwarves from the south. To think that such a small faction remains while Rhyvor has fallen,” Maro murmured.
“Small faction?” Ilea asked. “What I’ve seen of their cities is dungeons now too, ruins. But they had pretty insane technology. Some sort of teleportation gates and machines that still fight to this day.”
“Teleportation gates? I see. That would… change things. Perhaps they fooled others into thinking they were inconsequential after all. Interesting, but alas, my knowledge is outdated, and space magic is not a specialty I’m familiar with anyway. If Scipio was still around, he’d probably be able to give at least some insight.”
“Elana mentioned him already. He was looking for realm travelers and apparently never returned.”
Maro looked at her for a long moment. “Ah, that makes sense. As to your conundrum, do you know the power of the machines residing in these dungeons?”
“Three marks, no specifics.”
“Show me your magic,” Maro said, again with perfect confidence.
Ilea summoned her ash, formed a few limbs, then decided to show her wings as well, and she flowed a bit of healing into him as well.
“Teleportation?”
Ilea blinked.
“What kind of attacks? You can heal, so strike me. I can take it.”
Ilea smiled and did just that. Using all of her abilities, she threw a single light punch to his arm, her magic sizzling into and through him. She saw him wince, but the look in his eyes changed almost instantly to one of curiosity. She healed him and stepped back.
“Now now, that is quite something,” Maro murmured. “Ash creation, teleportation, flight, mana intrusion, and, most curiously, arcane healing. There was a small order in the south that I’d heard was boasting about this kind of healing. To see it now… Part of your intrusion was based on this healing too, if I felt that correctly.”
“It is,” Ilea confirmed. “You knew the order?”
“No. Which also means you didn’t know it. A relic, then, found or given. Either way, you wield a dangerous combination of magics. And it seems you understand your strengths already – your creation and your healing. And you’re an instinctual fighter. You trust your abilities, I can see that. When was your last evolution, if I may ask?”
“At level two hundred.”
“Then your next will likely happen at three hundred. You’re not close yet, but I’m sure the change will be substantial if you manage to survive. Enough, perhaps, to face down three-mark monsters.”
“You think so?” Ilea asked. Three hundred didn’t feel super far away, but she was surprised to hear he thought she could face level five hundred beings.
“With what you have already, yes. Yes, I think it’s possible. And you’d likely be a stronger fighter than me.”
“What’s your level, anyway?”
“Past three hundred, but not far,” Maro said. “You’ll know soon enough if you keep fighting. And if you have any specific questions, I’ll be happy to answer them.”
“I’m more interested in fighting you, to be honest,” Ilea said.
The king laughed. “Sure. Once I’m out, I’ll have to kill you anyway for the whole ‘necromancer taking over the world’ plan.”
“Ah yes, the ‘necromancer taking over the world’ plan. I’m familiar with it,” Ilea said. “I’m the hero who will face you and lose, but then rise up from the ashes while you’re on a rampage, then I have a training arc and return to face you again, and you’ll be like—”
“You fool, I have faced you before, you are nothing to me! You will die here!” Maro interjected.
“Oh, but I’m not the same as I was last time, necromancer,” Ilea said, ash spreading behind her.
Maro made a shocked expression, perfectly acted. “You… what is this… power I feel?! You will never win!” he roared, the sound descending into laughter at the end.
“Can you two shut the fuck up for one minute?” Terok added with a shout of his own.
“She’s saving the world!” Maro informed him, then turned back to Ilea. “Some people don’t get it.”
Ilea shrugged.
“Now, on finding your friend. I think you’re on a good path. I suggest focusing on level three hundred for now, if you don’t have anything else to go on. The Kingsguards might help with that. Try to get as many resistances as you can as well. Fighting more diverse monsters would be preferable, as much as that may slow things down. You can heal your injuries yourself. You should also look into Pain Tolerance. The second tier is difficult to achieve, but it would be invaluable for a warrior or a battle-healer like yourself.”
Ilea smiled.
“Oh. Of course,” Maro laughed. “Once you hit your evolutions, more options will open up, I’m sure of it. The resources left in the vaults here and potentially my direct help, if you’re interested, should both help as well. As long as you don’t die prematurely.”
Essentially what I’ve been doing already. But I suppose it’s good to have a more specific goal. Level three hundred. That’ll take a lot of monsters. But if the jump is as big as my last evolutions, I’m inclined to believe him.
Ilea looked down at her fists and smiled. She didn’t know exactly what she’d expected to find down here in this vault. An ancient set of rulers was certainly not it. But if anything, this confirmed that there wasn’t a shortcut. She needed to go into Taleen dungeons, fight the strongest machines they could throw at her, uncover whatever secrets were hidden, and gather resources, allies, gold, and gear to help Christopher with his research.
And all that, she knew, would help both Claire and Trian too. And herself, because her magic would get cooler, and she could fight more dangerous monsters.
She thought of the masked person she’d seen flying above Virilya, the power that they’d wielded. She thought of the basilisk, a four-mark beast, and the elves that had attacked Dawntree and Salia. There were a lot of dangers out there in the world, and she felt as if she couldn’t stand still. She had to face the next danger not only to survive but to then face the next challenge. And if there was nothing in her way, she would go out there and find it herself.
Ilea smiled to herself, thinking of the Azarinth temple, of the wolves that had attacked her on her first day here. While she had long eclipsed them, she knew there was always another creature out there more dangerous than the last, a monster that would get her blood pumping, something worthy to fight, to defeat.
Always another drake.
FORTY-SEVEN
Underground Paradise
Ilea left soon after, though Terok stayed to discuss potential ways to at least get Elana out in a more reasonable time frame.
When she walked into the cathedral, closing the double doors with the ash floating behind her, she found that Elfie had returned.
“Hey there, historian.”
The elf rolled his eyes before he looked back to the book he was reading.
“Did the dwarf die?” he asked a moment later while Ilea checked her armor for damage.
The undead knights had barely scratched her, courtesy of her ash creation’s third tier. If she could somehow make it more durable, the stuff could replace her armor permanently.
I’d never have to worry about steel again. That would be nice.
“He should be fine if he doesn’t drunkenly stumble past his runes.”
The elf sat up and looked at her. “Did the key work?”
“Question for a question. Why did I find elven armor in a Taleen dungeon? I thought you lot didn’t go down there?”
Ilea sat down with one arm resting on the chair, her head cocked to the side. The elf stared at her with his gray eyes.
“Either someone brought it there, or a cursed one died in the dungeon.”
“Cursed one?” Ilea asked. “So there are elves who enter dungeons?”
When he didn’t answer, she smiled.
“The key worked.”
“That’s all?” he asked with a grin on his face, hissing a moment later. An amused sound, Ilea thought.
Ilea shrugged. “Questions and answers, Elfie. Isn’t that the bargain you suggested? You’re being a dick, so I’m being a dick.”
His claws dug into his chair, but his smile remained, a spark of either joy or madness reaching his eyes. Ilea couldn’t quite tell. He considered for a moment, then hissed again, as if he had come to a decision.
“There are some who choose to enter dungeons. They are forever marked as cursed ones. I believe they call themselves the Cerithil Hunters. A preposterous name.”
“You don’t seem so sure about that. What does it mean?”
He made to speak, then chose not to.
“Why do they go into dungeons if they’re then marked as cursed? I thought you couldn’t even enter?”
“They seek to destroy the Taleen creations. I understand they seek to find their source and bring an end to them.”
Ilea listened. She could tell something was different. He seemed almost… emotional.
A connection to the Taleen. Elves who delve into their dungeons… to find their source? Where they’re created?
She was sure she could learn more from him, but the topic felt delicate, not something easily shared, so she didn’t want to pry further just yet.
“We found two survivors of Rhyvor. King Maro Invalar and his wife, Elana. He activated a spell or machine to defend the city against its attackers. That was long ago, and it seems the attackers were repelled and the undead remained, but nobody was left or willing to rescue the rulers. I woke him up, but to get him out of there, we’ll have to kill all the knights still connected to him.”
The elf stood up and started pacing. “Alive… after all this time… to speak to the rulers… and you believe them? You think them the true royals?”
Ilea shrugged. “Probably. Might be a fake story, but the undead he controls are called Kingsguards. He might be a prisoner too, but it doesn’t make sense. The captain of the Kingsguards… all of that would be fake otherwise. And why leave them in control of the knights if they aren’t who they say they are? I don’t know, Elfie. I don’t dislike them, personally. And I don’t really care if they’re king and queen of this forgotten kingdom.”
Elfie began to spread a curse around him. “I do. Is there no way to get them out?”
“Not for now. He’s stuck, as I said. Can’t leave without the knights being dead. Maybe you can go in and help take care of them? Now I know elves go into dungeons, can it really be that bad? Cursed ones… You already use curses – it’d be a fitting name for you.”
He hissed and hurled a powerful barrier at her, but Ilea simply blinked through it, ignoring the growing curse around her.
“You’re right, actually. With that weak-ass magic, you’d be useless in a fight against the knights,” Ilea snickered, dodging another barrier. “What’s your level anyway?”
The elf calmed down, his magic subsiding before he sat down again. “You can’t tell yet? Your Identify skill is execrable. Did you arrive in this realm without one?”
Ilea stayed quiet.
“I’m two eighty. Meaning your Identify skill is below the level of a human child. Impressive.” He clapped.
She smiled, ignoring his provocation. “Why do they want to destroy the Taleen machines?” she asked instead.
The elf tapped his chair with a nail and hissed. He glared at her and then blinked his eyes. “Because, human, the dwarves – all dead and gone by now – left behind more than ruins to explore for you and your squabbling little species. The machines are spreading throughout the lands of the Domains like an infection, searching the vast forests and mountains, to find and kill every one of my kind, every warrior that stands in their way. Like a curse placed on us by a dead people.”
Ilea looked at him. This was certainly something new, something nobody had ever talked about.
“The Taleen send out machines to hunt down elves?”
“They do. Tens of thousands of them. My people welcome them as a challenge, as a rite of passage to reach maturity.”
He spat on the ground, his expression turning to one of horror immediately after. Ilea watched in amazement as he dropped to his knees and cleaned up the spit with frantic movements.
“We fight them, destroy them by the droves,” he continued. “And the cursed ones go into their dungeons and destroy what they can find, but it doesn’t change anything. The machines still come, unstoppable, in greater numbers with every passing year.”
Ilea leaned forward as he sat down again, his face not revealing any sentiment in regard to what had just happened. “How long has this been going on?”
The elf ignored her question. “Can you get the queen out if the king is stuck?”
“Maybe. She lacks a teleportation ability to get past the Kingsguards. There might be a way for Terok to get her out, and he’s working on that right now. I’ll be hunting down monsters to get stronger. I’m not quite ready to face the Kingsguards yet.” She smiled. “But I will be.”
He hissed, a contemplative sound.
“Is that why you’re a historian? You’re trying to figure out why the Taleen are coming after you?”
The elf looked at her. “I am over six hundred years old, human, and even I was only deemed mature after facing down a sea of Guardians, killing my first Taleen Centurion.”
Ilea chuckled. “Guess I’d be classed as mature too, then.”
He hissed.
“Why not join those Cerithil Hunters? Bring an end to the machines?”
“You tread dangerous ground, human. Now begone. Leave. I am tired of your presence.”
Ilea grabbed one of the bottles they’d found in the king’s chambers and poured herself a glass. Looking at the elf as she set the bottle down, she took a sip.
“No, I don’t think I’ll do that.”
His curse flared up again, but she just sat there, ash swirling around her as she stared into his eyes and took another sip. Healing mana flowed through her, taking care of the damage as it was caused. His attack was nuanced, dangerous, and lethal, but she’d faced worse before, and either way, he lacked the punch to finish the job.
He really might be at two eighty.
The elf stopped his magic after a minute, simply turning away to continue reading. At least Ilea wasn’t annoying him with further questions.
So the Taleen army I’ve seen wasn’t made just to defend whatever Iz was. They built robots to hunt down elves. But why?
She didn’t know. They mustn’t target humans, otherwise either more people would know about this or they’d all be dead and unable to tell the tale.
Probably good news. Kyrian might still be alive if the machines don’t actively hunt him down. As long as he can escape whatever place he got sent to.
Cerithil Hunters… She wrote the name in her notebook and smiled. Has a good ring to it.
Night had fallen when Terok joined Ilea in the cathedral. She’d decided to wait for his update before she left for an extended period of time. And she wanted his advice. With Maro’s knowledge being so outdated, a scavenger from Hallowfort could surely provide some more up-to-date knowledge on local dungeons and dangerous beasts to hunt.
She poured each of them some of the ancient beverages they’d found earlier, the two of them sitting in the warm magical light provided by Terok’s machine.
“You sure this stuff is safe to drink?” he asked.
Ilea smiled. “No. But an ancient king just confirmed that resistance training is important.”
“You’re using that as an excuse,” he chuckled.
“Don’t worry. I can heal you if it fucks you up.”
He sighed and took a sip. “Hmm. Not too bad actually. They left behind good enchantments.”
“Think you can get her out?”
“With time. And potentially some help. I’ll keep working on it, if only to get into their good graces. Whatever they do after they’re out of that vault, I’m sure it will have an impact.”
“Planning ahead, eh?” Ilea smiled.
“We’re not all sustained by fighting monsters day in, day out.”
“Speaking of which, I need a local guide. I’ll have to fight a ton of stuff to get to three hundred, and I think I’d enjoy some variety.”
Terok nodded. “You’re really planning to go through with it.”
“Thought I was kidding?”
“I’d hoped you were, but no,” Terok said. “So, what have you found and fought in the region already?”
She relayed what she’d encountered so far, and Terok nodded along, his eyes occasionally widening in between deep draughts from his glass. Eventually, the two moved on to specifics, the first topic being how to tackle the Penumra residents called Drop Saurians. Ilea currently found them too dangerous, mostly due to her inability to fight one at a time.
“Can you blind them, maybe? Obscure whatever it is they sense with?” she asked.
“We’ve already tried smoke, freezing, fire, dark magic. They seem to rush into whatever magic they can find. You’ve seen how big they are, haven’t you? Once they notice anything intruding on the dungeon, they group up, more and more appearing every second. Your high Poison Resistance might be enough to battle them, but combined with the ranged monsters, I doubt you’d be very effective. I don’t believe they can heal themselves, at least.”
Ilea put a question mark next to the hastily sketched Drop Saurian inhabiting the Penumra dungeon in her notebook. It would’ve been the closest dungeon to Hallowfort – next to the Descent, of course.
“Levels unknown?” Ilea asked, and she saw him nod through her Sphere. “I could try again, but it might not be the best start. If they catch me and prevent me from blinking, I’d be toast… probably.” Their damage potential was hard to gauge, but it likely wasn’t below the knights of Tremor.
“The city ruins leading to the Descent,” she said, turning the page in her notebook. “You said those are dangerous?”
