Mage Tank

Chapter 244: Back Out in the Cold

“Etja’s Spiritual and Mystical defenses are probably better than mine now,” I shouted up at Varrin. We were blasting through the frigid winter wonderland once more. I was wearing thicker socks this time, but my toes were still going numb.

Varrin grunted in response. I was only able to hear him because Wisdom gave a big bump to my senses. It was an inquisitive sort of grunt. I interpreted it as “Okay, and?”

“I mean, my Physical defense is definitely better,” I continued. “I’ve got 22 Speed to let me avoid things, turn hits into glancing blows, and so on. I get 24 Physical DR from my Heavy Armor skill, and another 60 or so from the armor itself. If I block, my shield gives me something like 38 all together between Gracorvus and the Shields intrinsic. Then I get more DR from Auradilato with my passive auras. My base Physical defenses are probably in the 120s while walking around, but it can get up into the 170s when I block and have my other auras going.”

Another grunt along the lines of “Okay, and?”

“But for Spiritual defense, Etja has a 46 in Wisdom, then she’s got natural armor for that as well, and the 40 DR from her new armor. That’s like 100 or something. Whereas I’ve got a 40 Wisdom, 20 from my armor, and 21 from Auradilato. My base Spiritual defense is in the 80s.”

“What about your shield?” Varrin grunted.

“If I block, I get another 38. And if it’s a spell, I get even more DR from both Shields and Mystical Magic. It’s probably closer to 180. Honestly, my spell defenses are a lot stronger than my defense against techniques.”

Varrin flew in silence, then grunted, “Okay… AND?”

“Just feeling like I need some more defense is all.”

“True, true,” I admitted, then glanced up at him. “What’s your Physical defense at?” Varrin grinned, but kept looking forward. With his gear, it was higher than mine, for sure.

I still had twice his HP though.

I daydreamed about shiny new armor and Fortitude 70 super evolutions as we flew over top of the blizzard. We were at an altitude that would probably suffocate an eagle, and I quickly caught sight of the storm’s edge in the distance. As it drew closer, I realized it looked unnatural. The edge of the storm curved, its eastern and western fronts swooping north. It was like a goliath had taken a big bite out of it.

Then there was fire.

A burst of flame shot up into the sky a hundred miles north of us. The gout had to be ten miles high, and I felt a tinge of heat even from this distance. The heat came with a blast of turbulence powerful enough to rip the harness free of Varrin’s body. I fell for a few seconds, getting kicked around by the wind until I activated Therianthropy. Fuchsia wings burst from my back and I stabilized.

Varrin’s flight had been mostly undisturbed as he darted through the disruption like a tungsten meteor. He had to backtrack to meet up with me. My personal flight speed was only

The enormous plume of fire was gone, but the edge of the blizzard curled back as clouds, mist, and snow evaporated. After a mile or so it stopped receding, until another mountain of flame appeared.

I smiled wide and gave Varrin a wink. I mouthed the word “dragons” and he looked upwards in a not-quite eyeroll. It was more of a please-gods-help-me kind of eye direction. I was ready for the turbulence this time, riding out the waves of pressure differentials like a champ. Soon after, we saw the mountain.

It was… a mountain. It was big and tall, but not nearly as tall as the fire had been. I squinted at it to make sure this wasn’t a volcano we were rolling up on, but while the top of the mountain was blackened and scorched, there was no crater or vent that I could see. I also couldn’t find the source of the fire.

The land for miles around the mountain was free of snow, revealing a melted mush of mud and sediment. I’d been expecting the austere beauty of an icy spire rising from flawless, untouched powder. Instead, I’d gotten what looked like Father Winter’s unwashed asshole.

I grimaced as we descended. While the land was dead and the mountain was a blasted hellrock, the air was alive with torrents of mana. It flowed from every direction and into the mountain’s base. Whatever was going on in there, it was sucking the world dry of the stuff.

We didn’t have to search for where to go. A powerful soul sat near the bottom of the mountain, serving as a beacon to my Sight. Varrin and I ‘landed’–meaning we hovered just above the mud–a few hundred feet from the soul’s owner. His back was to a sheer cliff that rose a thousand feet upwards. The mountainside had been carved into the face of a beautiful woman with slitted, reptilian eyes. The woman’s mouth was open wide and led to a large cave or tunnel.

The figure ahead of us was–potentially–a person of some kind. They were eight feet tall with a large, bald head. Their mouth was broad with thin lips turning down at the edges, and their eyes were set far enough back in their skull that I wondered whether they had any peripheral vision. Their nose was wide and flat enough to their face that it almost disappeared. Their skin was about ninety percent wrinkles, with liver spots making up the last ten percent.

They also had the most well-contained soul I’d ever encountered. It was held tight to their body and was utterly still. It didn’t flow or pulse like I’d come to expect. Where other souls were closer to a river or lake, the soul before me was more like the mountain behind him. Solid. Enduring. Unmovable.

I also had no real idea how strong this person was. They were obviously strong, but the compact nature of the soul made it feel like there were depths I couldn’t see into. They might have been on the same level as someone around Level 20, or they might have been a wrinkly god who’d come down from on high to play. I’d gotten so used to figuring out at a glance how much of a threat someone was, that not knowing made me uncomfortable.

“Hello,” the person said. Their deep, masculine voice carried across the distance with ease. It was filled with a casual power that was at odds with their decrepit appearance.

“Hi there,” I shouted back. The man tilted his head to one side and reached up to scratch where his ear would have been, had he had one.

“Are you coming over here?” he asked.

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“Can we?” I asked.

They plucked at their shirt, which was rather nice, I realized. It was off-white but clean of the mud and slop that covered the ground. It had a sheen to it and hung slightly loose, while still staying taut across the shoulders. There was some real muscle under there, making the man look like a jacked up raisin.

I was pretty sure Varrin had that exact shirt.

“Why else would you be here?” the man asked.

“Fair point,” I said.

Varrin and I floated forward. Thankfully, the man stood in the center of a spotless patio, so we could touch down without risking a mud bath.

The temperature near the mountain’s base was warm enough to be considered pleasant. Once we were on the patio, it was hot enough for a pool party. I gave my toes a wiggle, making sure they were all still attached as feeling returned to my feet.

“I’m Arlo,” I said, stepping forward and holding out a hand.

The man looked at the proffered limb quizzically, but eventually went in for the shake. His own hand swallowed mine. I half-expected him to squeeze hard to judge my mettle with a test of strength and resolve. Instead, he gave it a single firm pump, and released, killing my manly fantasies before they’d ever been given a chance to live.

“I’m Nax,” he said. “If you’re trying to get on my good side so I’ll let you in, it won’t work. Token-holders only.”

That got me a little confused. “I wasn’t aiming for your good side in particular,” I said. “But I do like being on that side of people for the most part.” The man looked past me into the distance, studying the mud. He had zero interest in what I was saying. I was getting stonewalled.

“We’re not trying to sneak past or anything,” I said, taking out the coin that Avarice had given us. I held it up. “Here ya go. One premium token, as requested.”

Nax snorted as he looked over the token, then opened his eyes a little wider. They slid forward in his head, moving from the deep chasms of his skull. He fixed me with a look that made me feel like he was only just now actually looking at me. Nax’s soul stirred a fraction, and he glanced over to Varrin as well.

“Humans,” he said. It didn’t sound like he was upset about that, just confirming it for himself. “Where are the rest of you?”

“We have three more associates who plan to arrive via portal,” I said. “Is it all right for me to bring them in?”

Varrin held up a hand to stop me. “Why did you believe there were more of us?” he asked.

“There are always more humans,” Nax said. That struck me as odd, since humans were a relative minority in Arzia. Then he pointed at the coin. “And your invitation marks you down for six more guests.” He swung his finger toward Varrin. “I only see one.”

That was interesting. If the coin was good for myself plus six more, Avarice must have included both Grotto and Shog in the invite. Very thoughtful of her. Shog was off in C’thon world, so he wouldn’t be able to make it. I sent a quick ping to Grotto, seeing if he wanted to come along, but he impolitely declined.

“You may open your portal,” said Nax. “If you wish.” His eyes crept back into their pits.

“Thanks,” I said, suppressing a shudder. I opened the Closet portal, letting Xim, Nuralie, and Etja pass through, then closed it behind them. Nax studied the three of them as they came, then snorted again.

“A surprise,” he said. “There weren’t any more humans.” He stepped aside so that he was no longer standing directly in front of the mouth. His large frame was nowhere near large enough to actually block the entrance, but I appreciated the symbolic gesture. Nax looked us all over again. “Maybe there never were any humans,” he said cryptically.

“Hmm,” Xim hummed, looking up at the mountainside. “It’s a face with a mouth in a cliff face leading to the mouth of a cave.”

“Anything we should know before heading in?” I asked Nax. His wrinkled face scrunched up a bit. He might have been thinking, or the structural integrity of his head might have finally given way, leading to a total collapse.

It turned out to be the former.

“Because it is your first time, you will each need to be tested before you can enter the club.” He scratched again at where his ear wasn’t. “The testing is not too bad.”

“What kind of test is it?” asked Etja. I was silently hoping for a handshake war.

“They are all different,” he said. “And there are many ways to pass.” His eyes opened slightly wider and I steeled my nerves as they slid out again. He looked at Etja more intently, like he’d done for me and Varrin when I’d shown him the coin. She faced him down with a pleasant smile, completely unperturbed by the man’s eyeballs.

“Perhaps you will pass through control,” he said to Etja before turning to Xim. “Or force.” He looked at Nuralie next. “Ingenuity could work. Or passion,” he said with a nod toward Varrin. Finally, his eyes settled on me, growing a fraction wider than I’d seen so far. They looked like they were about to fall out of the man’s face.

After a few seconds, he groaned. “Teamwork. Pah. They hate that one.”

I raised an eyebrow, but Nax didn’t elaborate. He turned back to stare out at the miles of mud.

“It was nice meeting you Nax,” I said. He didn’t respond, which I took as a silent dismissal, so I led the way forward into the tunnel.

“What an interesting fellow,” said Etja. Her voice echoed off the tunnel’s hard surfaces.

“I do not understand our first interaction,” said Varrin. “We confused him somehow.”

“I think that guy was the doorman,” I said. “He called whatever we’re about to walk into ‘the club’. We basically showed up to a super exclusive, extremely out of the way establishment and just stared at him from across the street. He got suspicious, which makes sense.”

“I see,” said Varrin. “He thought you were a miscreant trying to talk your way in.”

“Something like that.”

Xim rapped a knuckle against the tunnel wall. It was smooth and solid, but rang in a way that let us know it wasn’t actually stone. “What do you think would have happened if we didn’t have that coin?” she asked.

I glanced back the way we’d come. Nax’s soul had also been impossible to get a read on. I’d tried inspecting him with the System as well, but nothing had come back.

“Nothing good, I’m sure,” I said, turning back forward. I jerked to a halt and looked around the empty tunnel. “Ah, fuck,” I said. “This shit again?”

Everyone else was gone. I turned around and found exactly what I expected to find, which was that the entrance was gone too. I stood for a while, waiting for something to happen. Nax had said there’d be a test, but it didn’t seem like anyone was about to show up with a scantron and a pair of tiny pencils. Unlike the entrance, the way forward was still there.

I decided to march on, but stopped abruptly when I felt a familiar wave of mana wash over me. Dimensional mana poured into the tunnel until it was as thick as the most saturated parts of the Closet. Then it kept ramping up until it was several times denser.

I felt a twist in my gut and a gentle popping sound filled my ears. I stood stock still and reached out with my mana sense as an uneven wind filled the hall. I couldn’t see the end of the corridor ahead, as though it went off into a distance farther than I could see. As I stared down the hall it stretched even further, and the walls began to close in.

Space was being warped and twisted. The distance between myself and the walls kept changing. Small whorls of spatial distortion came into existence to stir the air and then faded just as quickly. The popping noises were micro-portals opening and closing. They surrounded me, but there was a small buffer where I was safe. An inch or so off my skin.

The moment I moved, I’d be caught in a meat grinder that would mangle my flesh. The portals would take tiny bites until I was riddled with holes. If either of those effects happened to manifest in my brain, it’d be a Bad Time. It wouldn’t kill me outright, but if I fell unconscious in this environment, I doubted that I’d make it.

As I stood frozen, planning how to deal with all this, the System gave me a hint as to what was going on. Once I read the notification, my apprehension faded as I realized the opportunity before me.

You have entered the Hall of the Recondite Ruler

Dimensional Dungeon

Recommended skills: Dimensional Magic 40

The description was short and sweet, but part of me hoped the Dungeon wasn’t. I was always in need of some skill levels, and this seemed like the perfect place to snag a few.