🎶Enter Sandman - Metallica🎶
The first four floors were completely empty. I saw absolutely nothing. Not a single fucking person or monster. Either someone has been through here about an earlier than me, or the dungeon is starting to play games with me. I really do not appreciate this tomfoolery.
The fifth floor was more to my speed, a horde of killer ants, goblins and kobolds. With the occasional war shadow hiding in the walls or behind a dense group of ants. The drop lizards were spaced out along the roof of the dungeon.
AWACS really is a useful ability.
Using runes I recreated Madaras' 'Great Fire Annihilation.' Would you look at that! Monster cores for days. Auto-loot worked over time as I simply meandered around the floor killing the rapidly spawning monsters from the walls and ceiling. Cypher was not interested in eating anything else. Nor was he interested in fighting. He just wanted to go to the treehouse and sleep. It took an hour to clear the floor. Neither the corridors or rooms were safe. This was the first time I'd been attacked from behind on the upper floors. I honestly didn't mind, the unrestrained application of my runic magic was quite liberating. No infrastructure to worry about, no ungrateful cunts to save.
The dungeon, not satisfied with the ease which we were progressing through it's domain, repeatedly spawned monster hordes all around Cypher and I. Honestly, I just wanted to get a feel for how the dungeon had changed. For me at least, it had been six years.
Next time if possible I'll take Cypher along as well. The experiences he's missed out on, the tactics we could have developed, and not having my purr-o-matic 3000 for six years was torture in itself.
Anyway, now that it's clear that we are going to have to fight out way through to our destination, Cypher started pitching in as well. a clawed swipe here, a bitten off head there. The usual.
*****
Holy fucking hell!
10 minutes to get to the fifth floor and roughly an hour on each floor thereafter. We are currently taking a breather on the stairwell between the seventh and eighth floors. My armour 'Will of the 300' doesn't allow me to feel fatigue or pain, but the amount of magic I've had to dish out has gotten me to borderline mind-down. I'm sipping on some mind and health potions, along with quite a bit of water.
'Note-to-self:
1. Invent a method to inject potions, nutrients, and water directly into their respective bodily systems. The path forward is only going to get harder to traverse.
2. Refrain from excessively using fire and lightning spells until the 17th floor. I need to temper my reserves.
3. Practice other runes, runic clusters and runic spells. The most inconsequential ability can lead to a plethora of possibilities previously unimagined.
4. Refine use of Alchemy in combat. It's possible, just not right now.'
A while later I check with Cypher to see if he's ready, and we step into the eighth floor. The next two floors are going to be much more challenging. All monsters from the first seven floors coming at me hordes. Hordes they would be, all mixed in with monsters covering each other's weaknesses. The Purple Moths would inevitably swarm around me or Cypher. I can handle them, but Cypher has some trouble with them. There are several wind and ice spells to get rid of the annoying pests.
We had only gone a few metres into the floor and we were beset with a horde of killer-ant riding goblins.
Well Fuck.
I didn't expect to repel a cavalry charge in the dungeon. How are they learning? The tactics being displayed are getting better and better. Either the dungeon absorbed the memories of a spirit or god. Or some cunt is teaching the dungeon. Or it has a particular reason to fuck with me. All possibilities are worrying. But now is not the time.
Cypher bolts to right. It's a maneuver we have implemented several times.
I raise stone spikes into the charging monsters. There is a small gap on either side of the corridor. Through thorough trial and error I had discovered that blocking the entire path led to monsters spawning right in my safety space. As a ranged fighter, that is five to fifty metres around me. Depending on my load out, and how liberally I'm using grenades/explosives. I really having to change fighting style mid-engagement.
'Another flaw exposed.'
I should be able to go from shooting with whatever firearm, to hacking, slashing and stabbing with a sword or spear seamlessly. Sometimes having years of training and refinement of one style of combat is not a good thing. Case in point the kobolds spawning from the walls right behind Cypher.
Oh no you don't!
I rushed the vermin with spear and shield. I'd transferred the enchanted knife to Cypher. It had been working overtime today.
I'm holding off on deploying my golems. I have no idea on how they will function in the dungeon. They were perfectly fine in Zombieland. Here I'd only cleaned out Knossos. I hadn't programmed them to handle this volume of hostiles. I'd made some slight modifications, but nothing I'd want to test out in these conditions.
'Another mistake. More and more of them are being revealed to me.'
I close with the kobolds at the back of the formation, a wide arcing slash with my spear reduces them to blood, guts and dust. A shield bash pushed another into it's pack, making them lose balance, stagger or fall. Two slashes and they too join their brethren. Three slashes and half the pack is gone.
I launch some ice lances into the killer-ant cavalry to keep them occupied.
Proceeding with the kobold extermination, a few stabs and shots with my vambraces wipes them out. Cypher is having trouble with the cavalry combination. Every time he swats a goblin, he's bitten by an ant.
That simply won't do.
'Skull crusher'
two large stone walls appear from the very walls of the dungeon and proceed to crush the horde between them.
'Cleansing Flood'
Removes the possibility of additional spawns from the floor for a few minutes. I cancel the earth spells, spikes and walls and wait. Yes the monster cores are washed away as well, but I've gotten so many at this point, I don't mind doing some charity every now and then. Also being killed for my greed sounds like a shitty way to go.
We check up on each other. A few moments to gather ourselves, we move forward. Repeating the process with increasing frequency for longer and longer.
*****
I don't know how long it's been at this point in time, but I haven't moved from this area for at least a few hours. I can't even spare a moment to look at the time. We're still on the eight floor, and the attacks are getting relentless. I've repeatedly emptied out magazines and belts of ammo. My magical reserves are stable, but they are getting below threshold levels more and more often. Killing monsters seems to replenish them. I cannot use my more destructive spells as the cast time is longer and that's time I don't have.
Making fortifications with earth-based runes and defense with water, and lightning seems to be working very well. Right now, I am completely red. The blood isn't mine though. It get's harder to see every now and then. The blood splatter getting on my helmets visor. Thank god for the sci-fi genre. Simply adding clear sapphire lenses to the helmet has already paid for itself.
Water spells are constantly used to clean me and the surrounding area of the blood and gore. It helps for about 2 minutes before I'm in the middle of it again. Those 2 minutes are used to drink some potions. and catch our breath. this is getting more and more ridiculous.
*****
'Put your left foot in, put your left foot out, do the hokey cokey and shake it all about.'
'I'm losing my damn mind.'
*****
Fucking hell! Twelve fucking hours we've been on that floor! How in the hell did so many monsters spawn on one floor.
I am literally a billion valis richer than I was this morning!
We're going to need a longer break and better kit to cover our lacking skill, to be able to survive the next nine floors. That's assuming Rivira is still a safe zone. If it's not, well our substitution seals are in place. I reapplied them on the sixth floor.
I also placed a nuke in the walls of the dungeon on the last floor. I have enough money to buy about 270 more nuclear warheads. 25 kilotons of yield each. I have 15 right now.
I am a hair-trigger away from using them.
No matter, we must soldier on. I have been given a massive leg up in my second life, I refuse to go around nuking towns and cities off the map just because I can. I shall burn them off the map, practice my magic skills in the process, just because I can.
Whoever said "being rich is a superpower," was completely right, by Earth standards.
*****
Cypher and I slept in the stair well for well over fifteen hours. I think it was rest well deserved. Cypher thinks he's being punished for being a glutton. I can't blame him. He's grown another five feet in length and another foot at the shoulder. His form has also gotten more muscular.
Wish I could say the same about mine. I'm still the same, but I'm retaining less water in my muscles. I think it's the adrenaline and the fact that I can't drink enough water even if I want to. The stress, is building.
It's the anticipation of what's coming, based on what's happened. It's the same as being in 'Nam during the Tet offensive. Firefights all day at random times. Being ambushed on the enemies terms. Moving according to their will. Every engagement is decided by your adversary. The heat, the lack of clean water, the traps, the bugs. It's hell.
At least here there are no bugs. Well bugs that I can't shoot. Everything in the dungeon can be killed. You just have to use enough fire power. Speaking of which, I have no choice but to deploy the drones/golems. Some of them are upgraded, others have been strengthened. Some are still the same.
I reset their programming and rearranged their formation. Instead of a vanguard formation, now it's a VIP protection detail. Making sure everything was working top notch, we ate and drank. We can move forward whenever we want. But recuperating and fixing your gear, is an opportunity every soldier relishes in.
*****
We spent three days in the stairwell between the eighth and ninth floors. I just needed firepower to clear out the monsters. I'd enchanted my armour and weapons fit to burst. I could sell my machete back to the SHOP for $600,000,000. Every cut releases a random elemental effect, similarly to the knife, it protects my six.
I added shield projectors to the drones. The Dominators still carried the adamantium shields, they just had additional shields. Instead of a spear, it is now a flamethrower/spear combination. The fire burns at 6000 Kelvin. I could only get the flame function to work for a 1 second burst.
Too far along to turn back, I decided to move forward. If Cypher wanted to head home, he could. He "gently" tapped my head, and told me to shut up.
Alright you bastard, you asked for it.
*****
Fina-fucking-ly! The seventeenth floor!
It's been a month, an entire fucking month, of fighting and recovering, and transmuting monster corpses into supplies. I stopped buying non-essential crap from the SHOP. It might be essential later, but right now, I need food, water and ammo. Also need a shower, but I can do that later, when I know I am safe.
The drone/golems had long since been wrecked or destroyed. Not completely, but they would only slow us down. It wasn't about the materials used in construction, it was the unique combination of lack of testing and too much firepower that led to some indirect shots landing. See the projected shields need to be lowered in order to fire projectiles, flamethrowers, anything at speed. So while the drones would attack, the monsters would rush it. The shields can't hold forever and the drones would be overwhelmed. Annoying cunts.
At this point in time, I was mentally and physically drained. We'd spent seven whole days on the sixteenth floor. With only a day of rest. 'We'd gotten this far, let's clear it all out to Rivira.' That was my thought process that led me to simply ejecting bombs and explosives from my INVENTORY. I used wind magic to fan the flames, and voila, the floor was cleared. Now it was just a massive cavern with stalactites, stalagmites and the Wall of Grief on one end.
A few moments later, the floor started to rumble. From the Wall of Grief, a skinnier, more armoured, and faster goliath formed.
It's true "Pride does comes before the fall."
"Well fuck."
'You got that right."