Summon the Great Spirits - Book 1 Chapters 28,29,30 (Patreon)

Chapter 28

Orc Dungeon

Ethan sat by the magical fire, sipping his tea. The combined party, waiting outside of the dungeons, seemed reluctant to delve inside. Each member seemed to tell themselves they needed just a few more moments of sunlight. A couple more breaths of fresh air. One last sip of tea, even though they’d brewed their third pot. But excuses wore thin before Twist could prepare another pot.

The parties stood up, saying farewell to each other. Time wouldn’t pass as quickly out here. Both sides promised to wait for the other until they were done. To secure the camp once they emerged and provide support if needed. Radiant and Pit seemed confident in their abilities. Ethan didn’t need to dig within himself to find that resolve. It rested deep in his chest, thumping with excitement to the beat of his heart.

“See ya in a few days,” Radiant said, waving as he and Pit traversed their portal.

“Better get going,” Targe said. “Stay here, Tulip. Be good. Alright?”

Ethan felt a sensation like water dumped over his head. He stepped through the portal, feeling the familiar sensation of teleportation, then appeared in a darkened hall. A system message popped up, signaling their arrival.

[Targe’s Party] has entered the [Orc Dungeon]!

Time is moving at 1/32 rate within the dungeon.

Defeat the [Dungeon Boss] or touch the portal to retreat.

All rewards will be forfeit if you retreat.

Good luck!

The group took stock before they proceeded forward. A chill blew from the interior rooms, washing over Ethan like a frozen wave. The dungeon was themed like a mine, wooden beams holding the walls up. There was even a track on the ground for a mine cart, although it was rusted and destroyed in sections. The entrance room was welcoming enough. Rotting crates and piles of rocks scattered the area.

“Bit cold,” Ethan said, looking around for anything useful. As always, everything within the crates was rotten beyond use.

Like the last dungeon, there were three ways the group could go. Twist edged down one, sneaking out of sight and returning swiftly. Ethan could feel the smile on the Rogue’s face.

“Normal orcs.”

“Thank the gods,” Targe said, heaving a sigh. “I was thinking we were cursed. Rank 1?”

“Yes.”

“Bless our good luck.” Targe clapped a hand on Ethan’s back. “We can do a normal dungeon for once.”

Ethan sat down on the ground, going through his pack. He checked his things, making sure he had plenty of watered wine and backup water. Targe carried their reserve water, but the group wouldn’t go into rationing mode on the first day within the dungeon. They had a full day of feasting supplies, then it was down to dried meats and fruits. The Caller thought about seasonal items provided by the region, and he realized he didn’t know what time of year it was. He didn’t know what climate they were in, either.

“Hey, what month is it?” Ethan asked, reorganizing his pack.

“May,” Targe said.

Ethan narrowed his eyes at the fighter. “May? How can you have a ‘May’? What are the other months?”

Targe listed off the other months. The months Ethan knew from Earth. Which made no sense. Not just that there were twelve of them, but that they had the same names. Not slightly different names. They didn’t follow the fantasy theme, and that rubbed him the wrong way. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized something.

“Wait, say the word again,” Ethan said, staring at Targe’s mouth.

“May. Want me to say it again? May. May… Helt-drant,” Targe said, drawing the last word out.

“Hah!” Ethan shouted, pointing a finger at the Fighter. “I knew it.”

“You knew what?” Twist asked.

“I spoke English on Earth. When Luca brought me here, he did some weird system shenanigans to me. What language are we speaking?”

“Slonan,” Twist said. “Not my native tongue.”

“I’m happy you’re just realizing this now,” Targe said with a nod. “Never thought to ask about it before.”

“So, we’re getting into the summer months?” Ethan asked.

“Yeah. Doesn’t get too hot in Wexenhal. Shaping up to be a pleasant season. Better than the ones from my childhood.”

“Are we clearing the entire dungeon?” Twist asked, seemingly uninterested in the conversation.

“Yeah, I think so,” Targe said. “Should be enough to push us to level 10. Maybe not Ethan.”

“I must bathe in the boss’ blood,” Twist said. “Assuming my [Blood Mage Subcore] gets to 10.”

“Right. I’ll add ‘bathing in blood’ to our list of things to do,” Targe said.

“Please, do.”

Targe had fortunately recovered his spear from the downed orcs outside the dungeon. The single-handed spear seemed like a suitable weapon to poke at enemies behind a broad shield. The Fighter smacked it against his shield, gaining the attention of Ethan and Twist.

“So, let’s go over a few things.” Targe cleared his throat. “We’re doing well as a team so far. Twist’s plan to take a damage-over-time class changes our tactics. Slightly, but enough. I want us to share our core abilities so we can understand each other more.”

Twist shrugged. “Sounds good.”

“You can build a [Fighter’s Core] in two different ways. Tank and damage. I’m a tank,” Targe said. “I have 3 abilities. [Chage] does what it says on the prompt. I charge in with my shield. [Bulwark] makes me take less damage when I block with my shield. [Dig In] doubles that last effect if I’m standing still.”

Ethan had expected Targe to explain the entire system-generated block of info for the abilities. He appreciated the shortened version.

“[Blade Flurry], [Keen Strikes], [Momentum],” Twist said.

Targe let out a sight. “[Blade Flurry] is a cooldown attack speed ability. [Keen Strikes] lets him hit vital points on monsters. [Momentum] increases his move speed after landing a hit.”

“What about your subcore, Targe?” Ethan asked, knowing that Twist’s subcore was new. He wouldn’t have any interesting abilities.

“All geared to making me better with different weapons. I get [Strength] bonuses for using different weapons in combat. That’s why I have the spear. Your turn.”

Ethan had to open his interface to see all the abilities he had. He explained his 2 abilities on his [Caller’s Core], [Rapid Summon] and [Caller’s Resilience]. But that wasn’t all. He was building Lucantele and Telbarantis differently, and each of them had their own abilities. While both had [Pact Upgrade 1], they behaved differently. Tel had [Bulwark], and Luca had [Claw], [Barrier of Hope], and [Persistent Light of Hope].

Then Ethan had to explain something that neither of the other party members had.

“You don’t have class-specific gear?” the Caller asked.

“Nope,” Targe said. “Just generic crap.”

Ethan had to explain the [Caller’s Steadying Stance] on his gloves. Both [Spur] and [Caller’s Mana Regen] on his staff. Then the [Caller’s Sprint] ability on his shoes. Then he had to go back again, because he forgot to explain the passive abilities on his gear. His robe reduced perpetuation cost, while his staff gave him the ability to regen half mana in combat.

“Common rank classes don’t get fancy stuff. Not until way later,” Targe explained.

“Not usually, anyway,” Twist said. “You got lucky with quests.”

But there was a problem with having too much crap. Ethan hadn’t really tested his [Caller’s Steading Gloves], yet. He flexed his fingers, feeling the supple things on his hands as he fell into thought. The Caller didn’t want to think about the comfortable pants he forgot to mention. While they did a great job of preserving his modesty, he hadn’t seen the effect happen. If it stole any health from monsters, it would have been minimal.

“More reason to get you guys some evolved cores,” Ethan said, nodding. “Then the gear will flow.”

“I have this fancy earring, anyway,” Targe said, flicking the onyx gem embedded in his ear.

“Well, now that I feel like a jerk… think we can start the dungeon?” Ethan asked.

Targe offered the Caller a concerned look. “Not trying to make you feel bad. One-on-one, me and you? You’d be dead in seconds.”

Twist raised his hand. “Same here.”

“Rare doesn’t mean good,” Targe explained. “Your [Caller’s Core] is proof of that.”

“I take offense to that.”

“No, listen. Some classes start off relatively weak. If you had a bunch of spirits to summon, you’d fit any role. And you’d do it damn well. You only have two, and you’re filling an extremely special role.”

Ethan didn’t know whether to be offended by that. He wasn’t offended very easily, either. It took a lot to get under his skin. So he thought about it. What Targe was saying was that he didn’t impact the fight with damage. He was a sub-par healer, even if he’d kept up so far. What he added to the fight was invaluable, though. A disposable spirit that could distract monsters. In Telbarantis’ case, several monsters at the same time. He had a pocket tank, and a pocket healer.

“I get what you’re saying. I’m not a damage dealer, a healer, or a tank. The spirits and I are all of those things and something else. A risk-free distraction.”

“Risk-free distraction,” Targe said, closing his eyes and letting out a steady breath. “Damn, that’s a good way to put it.”

“This is all too heavy,” Ethan said, rising to his feet. “I never thought about which person had the better core, or what that meant. Just thought we made a good team.”

“This is not a standard team composition,” Twist said.

“But it works. Now that we’re not fighting some nonsense corrupted monsters, we’ll see how well it really works,” Targe said, gesturing to the western passage. “Let’s make it a tradition to take the west first. Work all the way to the boss, then do the same for the middle and the east.”

“I like that,” Ethan said.

He gravitated to the western side. Something about clearing the leftmost side of the dungeon first resonated with him. The east seemed fine, but the center seemed treacherous. Ethan realized his aversion to the center was because of the corrupted dungeon. Because of the ambush from the rule-breaking monsters there. But here, everything was on the table. The group moved down the western passage, leaving their packs in the first room.

The first room on that side seemed tame. Three orcs was all it offered. A mix of weapons with an unfavorable layout. But they’d faced more Rank 1 orcs in the fields outside the dungeon. Targe could have skipped the strategizing session. Hell, Luca by himself could have given the orcs a thrashing. Instead, like a good adventurer, he proposed a strategy for their attack.

Instead of going in blind, they’d assume the orcs were stronger than normal. They’d also assume there were more dungeon tricks within the room.

“Buffs, pull with Luca, then swap for Tel,” Targe said. “Maim the orcs, then we’ll finish them off. Quick and clean.”

Ethan opened his mouth to mention non-humanoid monsters, but stopped. They wouldn’t need to worry about those. Not yet. They’d figure out how good Tel was at sending animal-like monsters to the ground later. He cast [Summon Lucantele], ordering the Symbol to use [Barrier of Hope] and [Persistent Light of Hope] on Targe before charging in.

The three orcs shouted their cries, then charged down the passageway. Their bare feet slapped against the wet stone ground, echoing off the walls. Targe was waiting with his shield at the ready, spear poised to stab. Twist hid around the corner, daggers ready to flash out. Ethan dismissed Luca and began casting [Summon Telbarantis], the room filling with a faint blue light. When the spirit burst forth from his circle, he snapped wildly at the air.

The first orc slammed against Targe’s shield, gaining a spear to his gut for the effort. Twist descended on their flanks. Tel refused to listen to Ethan’s commands.

“Come on,” Ethan said, gesturing to the monsters. “Get them.”

Then the spirit slapped him in the back, sending him pitching forward from the force of the strike. It did no damage, but he felt the wind of motion behind him as he tumbled. Telbarantis’ jaws wrapped around the midsection of another orc. One holding a single rusted dagger and wearing a mask and hood.

“Stealther!” Ethan shouted, rising to his feet to dust himself off. “Tel spotted him.”

“Damn!” Targe shouted back, buckling under the force of three blows at once.

Ethan slammed the end of his staff into the ground, activating the [Spur] ability. The bell echoed throughout the room. Tel grew to the size of a real gator, and got to work on the orc rogue. The caller issued commands, making sure the spirit didn’t go for the kill. He maimed the monster, tossing it aside to slam against the far wall. Then he was upon the group assailing Targe, snapping jaws crippled their limbs. His thick tail sent them tumbling to the ground with single strikes.

Twist and Targe moved in to finish the monsters off. Telbarantis shrunk to his normal summoned size moments later. The group was left heaving breaths and shaking their heads.

“So much for the strategy,” Twist said.

“I’m adding stealth classes to the list of things to watch out for,” Targe said.

Ethan dismissed the spirit, curing everyone’s wounds as they looted the monsters. Rank 1 [Monster Cores] were more valuable than their Rank 0 versions. They also dropped more money, making it far more profitable to spend the charges on their bracelets.

“Mind if I swap to my [Evoker’s Subcore]?” Ethan asked. “I want to see what I can get for the level 5 skill.”

“Yeah. Works for me,” Targe said, kicking the side of the dead orc rogue.

Ethan found his pack in the room and swapped his [Healer’s Subcore] for his [Evoker’s Subcore]. The [Echo] ability wasn’t great, but the core was epic quality. The description said it was a support mage style subcore, which meant the level 5 ability would have been nice. That’s what the caller told himself. An internal justification for the rare subcore.

“Let’s hit the first room in the middle,” Ethan said. “Should be enough experience from the Rank 1 orcs to get me to level 5.”

“Good idea,” Twist said, gesturing to his own chest. “My subcore needs more experience, too.”

The group took a moment for Ethan’s mana to regenerate. As a [Mana Regen] specialist, that didn’t take long. The first room of the center path had the same layout as on the west. When Luca moved in, knowing what to look for this time, he sent word there was likely a stealther. When the Caller brought out Tel, after the pull, the spirit thrashed around until it found the rogue.

Prepared for the sneak attack, the party made short work of this group. It was only the panic of an additional orc that sent them off-balance last time. When the group stopped to rest, Ethan scrolled through the list of Evoker abilities. The fight had been enough to send it from level 3 to level 5, earning him a new skill.

The skills for Evoker were weird. [Echo] was strange enough, but there was a list of abilities that did similar things. From duplicating effects on party members, to nullifying magic attacks, they were extremely specialized pieces of kit. The Caller was left to consider a few, but something spoke to him. [Duplicate Effect] was vague in its description. Ethan read it off to his friends.

[Duplicate Effect]

Evoker Ability

Cooldown

5 minutes

Description:

Creates a weaker version of any effect. Effects that are channeled have their sustained mana costs halved. Effects with an infinite duration are limited to their base mana cost in seconds.

“What even is this ability?” Ethan asked.

He stared at it for a long time, trying to find a use for the thing. Something lingered in the back of his mind.

“What if this worked on my summons?” he asked.

“Surely not,” Targe said. “Read the description again.”

Ethan read it aloud again. The effect it duplicated was weaker, that was easy enough to understand. Channeled spells had half mana cost, and infinite effects were given a duration. The ability could have been amazing, or decent. But the other options for the subcore didn’t fit well with his build. The party had nothing to offer, so he selected it.

“Done. Screw it,” Ethan said, casting [Summon Lucantele]. “Even if it sucks, the cooldown is 5 minutes.”

Luca sprung from his circle on the ground, looking up at Ethan and tilting his head.

“Presto, chango,” Ethan said, activating the [Duplicate Effect] ability and focusing on Luca. The spirit shimmered for a moment, then a smaller version of the spirit appeared beside it. “Hah! We need to take a 30 minute break, but check this out.”

Ethan activated the [Echo] ability, focusing on himself. Another version of Luca sprung from nowhere. Three silver squirrels stared up at him, all tilting their heads. They looked at the copies of themselves and growled.

“Is this useful? Maybe,” Targe said. “Is this cool? Oh, you bet it is.”

“Tea?” Twist asked.

The two copies of Luca faded, leaving only the original. Ethan agreed to tea and the party sat down in the first room. The Caller had neglected to test if the copy of Luca could use abilities, but he had to wonder how useful that was. With a base perpetuation cost of 14, summoning another copy would consume 22 mana every 5 seconds. Adding another would be 30 mana. His combat regen was only 7.5, making the ability a draining thing.

“Limited use,” Targe said, sipping his tea. “But damn we need to test it. Even if you just bring another copy of Tel out for 15 seconds.”

“This gives us burn potential,” Twist said with a nod.

The delve had started as an ordinary run. Something to test themselves against a fair dungeon. Now Ethan looked forward to his new ability. He looked forward to specializing Luca into healing so he could stop using his [Healer’s Subcore] for good.

Chapter 29

Mana Drain

Two versions of Telbarantis trashed together, sending a pair of orcs cracking their heads on the hard ground. Targe stood like a sentinel, stabbing with his spear behind his wide shield. Twist wove his bleeding magic on the three orcs the Fighter dealt with, leaving Ethan in the back to watch his mana drain away by the moment. The copy of Tel faded away, leaving the original to finish his pair.

Targe’s Party had moved to the western stretch of halls. They fought in the second room on that line, intending to push toward the sub-boss in that wing. But as they cleared the room, looting the monsters, they spotted another room of normal orcs ahead.

“At least three deep for the first sub-boss,” Targe said, breathing a steady breath out. He cleaned his spear off on the mask of an orc rogue, kicking it in the ribs.

“More experience, right?” Ethan asked.

“Yep.”

But the brief fight showed the problem with [Duplicate Effect]. It had drained his mana almost to empty. Even a short, furious fight would send him to empty. Like Twist said, it was a burning strategy rather than a prolonged fight. This wouldn’t work if the Caller was solo, but it worked very well in a team-format. He’d also learned that both versions of the summon could use their abilities. The copy was far less potent, but it was an option.

“Rest up,” Targe said. “We’ll push straight for the sub-boss, then do the same for center and east.”

Ethan sat on the ground, watching his mana tick up every 5 seconds. That was something he learned from watching Void. Normal casters didn’t have [Mana Regen] that scaled with [Mind]. They relied on a resting effect, which kicked in when they were seated or prone while out of combat.

“My instinct is to slot my [Healer’s Subcore] for the sub-boss,” Ethan said. “But the rewards are based on kill time. Right?”

“Other things, too,” Twist said.

“Kill time. How close the fight was. The level difference between you and the boss. Also, how recently the sub-boss was killed,” Targe said.

“So, what would you say, fearless leader?”

“Slot your [Healer’s Subcore] for that fight,” Targe said. “Slow and steady has worked for us on boss-types.”

Ethan wanted to disagree, but that had been his strategy this whole time. When he ran the [Goblin Dungeon], the place where he found the [Evoker’s Subcore], that was his strategy. And it was extremely effective, especially with his massive [Mana Regen]. Once he was well rested, he stood and nodded to his party. They edged through the tunnel, stopping before entering the next room.

There were fewer orcs in this room, meaning there was likely a rogue hidden in stealth. But the party’s strategy was caution, so they observed the room for some time before acting. This room was large, filled with piles of junk and a ramp on the left side. As Ethan focused on that left side, he saw something curious behind a rotting crate.

“Did you see that?” Ethan said, pointing at the wall.

Twist and Targe looked, narrowing their gaze on the wall. The group watched for some time before they saw it. A hand poked out from the wall for only a moment. It emerged through the wall before disappearing an instant later.

“Orcs in the walls?” Targe asked, knitting his brow. “Ever seen anything like that, Twist?”

“Phase Mage,” Twist said, nodding. “Passed through solid materials. Very tricky.”

Targe tapped his foot on the stone, scratching his chin. They hadn’t dealt with a mage before. Three regular orcs, maybe a stealth rogue, and the mage. The engagement would be tricky if the fight drifted near walls. Even worse, if the Phase Mage could allow weapons to pass through its body they’d be in trouble. The Fighter formed a plan around that idea, relying on Ethan’s summoned spirits to probe the mage’s defenses.

“Your old retreating tactic,” Targe said. “We’ll form up in the previous room and affect a fighting retreat based on your summon’s position.”

“So, just keep re-summoning while we run. Got it. Tel or Luca?” Ethan asked.

“Luca. Have him figure out how the Phase Mage fights,” Targe said. “Tel is too slow. Be ready to burn the mage with three versions of Tel if we get desperate.”

Ethan agreed, casting [Summon Lucantele] to start. The silver squirrel appeared, casting [Barrier of Hope] on Targe before moving down the hall. Moving to the previous room, Twist and Targe left the Caller to do his thing. Luca moved in, slashing at the first orc with [Claw] before retreating to the passageway.

Sprinting down the hall, Ethan watched as the Phase Mage burst from the wall. He grasped for Luca, but missed the elusive spirit. A moment later, the orc mage disappeared into the floor. By the time Ethan reached his companions, the orc rogue had burst from stealth, stabbing the spirit in the side. The damage was minimal, but it left a lingering poison effect that chipped away at the Symbol’s health.

Targe activated [Charge], slamming into the rogue and skewering him. Twist came in behind the group to apply his bleeding spell before retreating. The Fighter held his shield at the ready, deflecting blows as he stepped back into the next passageway. Luca did his part, keeping as many of the orcs busy as he could. With the orc rogue prone, the Phase Mage nowhere to be seen, and two of the three normal orcs busy with Luca, the group brought the single one back. Twist and Targe fought it in the hall as they fell back, bringing it close to death.

Ethan’s feet came out from under him. A sensation like fire spread through his leg. Looking down and stifling a scream of terror, he saw a flaming hand emerging from the ground. Targe spun, swinging his spear with a deft strike, but the hand was gone. The Caller had taken a tenth of his health in damage, and a damaging effect lingered.

Luca sprinted down the passageway, jumping into the air to use his [Persistent Light of Hope] ability on Ethan. The pain faded, allowing the Caller to retreat faster. But the spirit’s actions had drawn the other orcs down the hall. The closer they were to the walls, the more likely the Phase Mage would strike. Panic set in, but Targe’s booming voice brought some comfort. The Fighter was collected, issuing individual orders while smacking away strikes from the advancing orcs.

During their retreat, the group had left the orc rogue behind entirely. Another was dead, leaving only two regular orcs and the mage to deal with. Targe issued another order in the first room of the western wing.

“Stand our ground for a while,” Targe growled, holding his shield at the ready. “Ethan, bring Tel out.”

It wasn’t ideal to dismiss a summon. It was better to let it die, but Luca had taken minimal damage. Down to 140 mana, then 100 after dismissing his spirit and summoning Telbarantis, Ethan kept his [Mana Tap Ring] in mind. Tel burst from his circle, searching the area for something to bite.

“Eyes open, little lizard,” Ethan said. With his words he sent mental commands to search for the Phase Mage. Then he backed up near a wall. Tempting the mage out.

Twist went wild on the remaining orcs. He must have used his abilities, because he was dancing around them like a madman. Knives dug deep gouges in the orc’s skill, drawing red lines across their dull green skin. Targe stabbed at them without precision, only seeking to fill them with as many holes as possible. Ethan feigned interested in the fight, glancing behind him occasionally. Then a grubby hand stuck out from the wall, burning with the same magic as before.

Telbarantis received a series of commands from Ethan. In one fluid motion, the spirit clamped down on the Phase Mage’s hand, shaking his head and tossing the creature into the air. The Caller stomped his feet on the ground, activating [Caller’s Sprint]. He activated [Duplicate Effect], and [Echo] the moment the sprinting lizard-spirit found his way under the sailing Phase Mage. Three versions of Tel tore into the mage before he even hit the ground, ripping into the monster without mercy.

Pieces of the orcish Phase Mage fell through the ground. Whatever magic the creature was using had failed him in that moment, allowing the spirits to maim it beyond repair. When the limbless body of the orc fell through the ground, the Symbol and its copies turned their attention to the last monster standing. They dashed across the room, still under the [Sprint] effect’s influence, and went to work on that one.

Both Twist and Targe stood back, avoiding the spray of blood and limbs.

Then the room went silent, save for the pant of exhausted breaths.

“Alright. Yeah, that was cool as hell,” Targe said, his face smeared with the orc’s blood. Monsters didn’t normally bleed that badly. “That wasn’t the plan at all, but it was cool.”

“Extremely cool,” Twist added.

Ethan dismissed the copies of Tel, keeping the original out. Even seeing the Phase Mage get torn to shreds wasn’t enough for him. His experience watching the thing burst from the wall sent the hairs on his neck standing up. He said a silent prayer to Lucantele that the mage was dead. A quiet hope that they were safe for now.

Moments passed. Enough time for the group to feel comfortable enough to move forward. Ethan’s only assurance that the Phase Mage was dead was his mana regen. He’d shifted to his full regeneration, signaling that they were out of combat. They found the orc rogue on the ground, clawing his way toward the adventurers. With a few swift strikes of daggers and a spear, it died.

The party fell to the ground, looking over the trail of destruction they’d created. As many limbs as bodies scattered the trail, painting the walls with the orcs’ failures. Ethan reflected on the fight, realizing how close it was. That was just a normal room, not a sub-boss room. While the rogues were a pain, the addition of a Phase Mage made things doubly hard. This reminded him of the oozes in the [Goblin Dungeon]. A single addition that threw a wrench in their plans.

Targe gave a report of the battle, commending Ethan’s quick-thinking about the Phase Mage. He admitted there was a gap in their plan, but that the Caller had understood the task. Burning the mage was the most important part, and he’d done that well.

“So, that settles it. The [Evoker’s Subcore] is for burst fights,” Targe said. “Which means what?”

Twist raised his hand.

“We’re teaching the new guy.”

“The new guy who just annihilated that mage.”

Targe grumbled.

Ethan cleared his throat. “We need specialist subcores for everyone.”

“Yeah, that’s my point,” Targe said. “We need to collect more subcores. Which means more dungeons.”

“I have no problem with that. I got another level for my [Evoker’s Subcore] from that fight.”

“Good. Now, let’s rest. Then we’ll talk about the sub-boss,” Targe said.

Ethan reflected on the new tradition of resting. He didn’t care for it, but realized the importance of pausing before pushing forward. The mental strain of running the dungeon was a slow-working thing. That sense of drudgery was brought low by good company and hot tea. They counted the hours of the day by their exhaustion and their willingness to press forward.

At least with the dungeon behaving correctly, they could get a look at the next boss. Ethan had equipped his [Healer’s Subcore] for the fight. The party stood at the threshold of the sub-boss room. The Caller let out a chuckle.

“[Big Subversive Orc]. Yeah, he’s big.”

Most orcs within the dungeon were dressed in little more than rags. This one, twice the size of a normal orc, was lightly armored. Heavy padding around the torso as a tattered gambeson, guards on his thighs with bare calves and feet, and a dented pot helm. Worst of all, the monster had Ethan’s least favorite weapons. A spear.

“Subversive. That’s a tricky tag,” Targe said. “Could mean anything. Kinda in the name right?”

“Right,” Twist agreed.

“Burning is out of the question,” Ethan said. “Should do the old ‘spirit tanks the boss’ trick.”

“Right. We’ll send Luca in to tank the sub-boss until we get a feel for its antics.” Targe adjusted the strap on his shield, testing the weight of his spear. He nodded with approval. “Get your bleed spell on him if you can, Twist.”

Ethan cast [Summon Lucantele], then prepared for the fight. With his [Healer’s Subcore] equipped, they were prepared for a long fight. Luca bound into the room, taking a swipe at the monster to trigger the battle. As time slowed down, a system message signaled the start.

Sub-boss engaged!

[Targe’s Party] has engaged [Big Subversive Orc] in combat!

3…

2…

1…

GO!

Luca dodged several jabs from the orc’s spear. Twist snuck up behind the monster to apply his damage-over-time spell. The sub-boss swung around, spear whistling through the air. Missing the Rogue by inches, the bronze tip chipped at the stone floor. Then the party fell back to watch and wait.

The arena was fine for fighting the orc. Like most of the rooms, it was themed as a ruined mine. Piles of junk were spread across the walls, but there were no slopes to give distance. Just an open arena with two shimmering barriers on either exit. As the spirit faced off with the orc sub-boss, the drain on Ethan’s mana was minimal. He held back on abilities, allowing Luca’s raw agility to see him through as long as possible.

But when Luca died from taking normal damage, no tricks, Targe shouted an order.

“We’re going in,” the Fighter said, activating his [Charge] ability.

Ethan watched from the sidelines, allowing [Caller’s Resilience] to boost his mana reserves. Summoning Tel would only work if he activated the [Spur] ability on his staff. Otherwise, the difference in power between a Rank 0 spirit and a Rank 1 sub-boss was too much. No, this was a classic battle of attrition. Something the ground was used to at this point.

Once the mana regeneration effect wore off, Ethan cast [Summon Lucantele] yet again. When the spirit burst from his circle, the Caller ordered him to cast both [Barrier of Hope] and [Persistent Light of Hope] on Targe. The Fighter had taken repeated hits from the spear. Although the shield absorbed most of the blow, some of that damage was transferred to his health pool. Luca ran to assist with the fight, using his [Claw] ability to stun the orc for only a few moments.

Targe shifted his stance, bracing himself before bowling into the orc. He led with his spear, driving it hard through the monster’s padded armor. Once embedded, the Fighter unsheathed his sword and went for the massive orc’s legs. A fist came down on his head, sending him sprawling back. Ethan resisted the urge to shake his staff, instead sticking to his role as a support healer. Despite the damage of the deadly attack, one [Cure Wounds] brought the man back to full health.

Back on his feet to fight.

Twist drove both his daggers into the monster’s back during the confusion, drawing dribbles of monster blood for the effort. The orc spun, delivering a backhand to the Rogue that required a [Cure Minor Wounds] to heal. Without Targe’s follow-up charge, the sub-boss would have descended on him.

Ethan kept his mind on his [Mana Tap Ring], watching as his mana fell to 100.  Luca jumped, latching onto the orc’s neck before shaking his head. The sub-boss grabbed him, pummeling him. Working together had paid off. Twist and Targe didn’t move in to help the summon. They watched as the orc killed the spirit, giving Ethan time to get his mana back.

“Thanks!” Ethan said. He monitored his mana, intent to get all of the benefit of [Caller’s Resilience].

Targe was back in it, bashing the orc in the face. There was more power in these strikes. Even if the Symbol wasn’t actually Lucantele, it was a hard sight to watch. As Ethan watched his mana tick up, he found himself thankful for that fact. Luca had told him the Symbol was just a meta representation of the Great Spirit. But if there were splatters of blood and a sad corpse left behind, the Caller would refuse to adventure.

Instead, the Symbol evaporated into bubbles of silver light. A pleasant sight compared to the alternative.

Twist and Targe worked on the sub-boss, absorbing and dodging around strikes until they’d whittled him down. Ethan just got Luca back out when the monster sagged. But it didn’t fall to the ground like the other sub-bosses they’d fought. The Fighter went to strike the final blow, his sword clattering against an invisible barrier. The Rogue’s daggers met a similar fate.

“What’s going on?” Ethan asked.

“Subversion!” Twist shouted. “I hate this modifier.”

The orc sub-boss muttered something in a strange tongue. He held his spear high, then repeated the words louder. Before long it was a shout that echoed throughout the dungeon. Fearing the worst, Ethan cast his eyes around the scene with concern. Something thundered in the distance. Then a system message popped up.

[Subversion]!

[Big Subversive Orc] has called for reinforcements!

The nearest sub-boss has been summoned to the arena!

[Round 2]!

Sub-boss engaged!

[Targe’s Party] has engaged [Phase Shaman Blarg] and [Big Subversive Orc] in combat!

3…

2…

1…

GO!

Chapter 30

Dungeon Shenanigans

“Damn dungeon shenanigans!” Targe shouted, swiveling to search for the new sub-boss in the room.

The [Big Subversive Orc] remained knelt for a few moments more. As Targe searched, the monster rose to its feet and let out a war cry. The sound signaled the Phase Mage to burst from the ground, seizing Twist by the ankle. The Rogue let out a shout of pain, swiping at the mage’s wrist. Only chipping against the stone below, his slash missed entirely.

Ethan assessed his situation, finding 150 mana to his name and no summon ready to go. He froze for a moment, watching the Phase Mage sub-boss take another swipe at Twist. He realized that his next action could have determined the direction of battle. Without attention on him, it was time to clear up the damage the bosses had inflicted.

The Caller cast [Cure Minor Wounds] on both Twist and Targe, then used his [Mana Tap Ring]. He stumbled back after the Phase Mage took a swipe at him, falling on his ass before the big orc swiped at him with a spear. Targe bashed the [Big Subversive Orc] in the back of the head with his shield, sending the monster tumbling end-over-end. It fell on Ethan, then over in a heap.

Ethan righted himself, groaning to his feet to cast [Summon Lucantele]. Twist had gone into sentry mode, daggers ready as he searched for the hidden mage. It wouldn’t have been a problem if it was just one sub-boss after the other. But the [Big Subversive Orc] had gained his health back. Luca sprung from the ground, jumping into the air to cast [Barrier of Hope] and [Persistent Light of Hope] on Targe. Then the spirit got to work, joining with the Rogue to find the phase mage.

“There has to be a cooldown on the mage’s phase ability,” Ethan said, holding his staff at the ready. He kept his staff at the ready. Abilities locked in his mind.

Targe kept the spear-wielding orc busy, but the mana drain of keeping Luca out was taxing. Ethan held his staff high and shook it, invoking the [Caller’s Mana Regen] ability. The second bell on his staff rang through the arena, a hungry hand bursting from the ground when he did so. Twist and Luca were on it, descending on the hand. But it was too late. The Phase Mage had fled before grabbing the Caller’s leg.

“Burn the big one, Ethan,” Targe said.

Ethan hesitated. But he didn’t let his doubts linger longer than a moment. He dismissed Luca and cast [Summon Telbarantis]. The Fighter kept the big orc busy while he cast, Twist searching the area near his feet. Once Tel was clear of his blue circle, He shook his staff and stomped his feet. The spirit grew in size, dashing across the room to attack the orc.

Slamming the end of his staff into the ground, Ethan activated [Caller’s Steadying Stance]. His mind rushed as it split between himself and Telbarantis. He felt his hunger for the orc. His willingness to rip the thing’s throat out. To grind its bones into dust. The Caller swayed on the spot as the connection deepened. But the spirit was upon the [Big Subversive Orc].

Targe stumbled back from the bloodbath. Even at Rank 0, the combination of abilities brought together reduced the sub-boss to nothing within moments. The Fighter had laid the groundwork for the burn. Small wounds that reduced the orc’s ability to respond. When it fell, the spirit searched for something else to gnaw. Nothing came by the end of the various effects’ duration. When [Caller’s Steadying Stance] wore out, Ethan fell back onto the ground.

Ethan clutched his head, a searching pain flooding through his mind. The intent to attack, to main, still lingered there. An unwelcome guest as much as the hand reaching up to pull him through the stone.

“There!” Twist shouted, dashing over and channeling a quick spell.

The Phase Mage’s hand burst with blood, a faint shriek of terror from under the rocks. Targe was there to grab the offending hand, digging his feet in and preparing to hoist the damned mage out. Twist joined him, counting to three to coordinate their heaving lift. Clad in animal furs and hooded with a bear’s head, the Phase Mage was removed from the stone. Like last time, it soared through the air. Twist threw both his daggers, slamming hard into the monster’s chest.

When the orc hit the ground, there was no thud. It passed through the material yet again. Targe cursed, but Twist watched. Moments passed when nothing happened. The Rogue crouched as though he saw something, the bolted in a random direction. To catch the handles of two daggers as they emerged from the ground. The Phase Mage shouted in pain as he twisted, then pulled the weapons apart. The shouted stopped when Targe brought a sword down on the monster’s head, splitting it down the middle.

A system message appeared as the barriers dropped.

[Targe’s Party] has defeated the [Big Subversive Orc], earning a [Gold Sub-boss Chest]!

[Targe’s Party] has defeated the [Phase Shaman Blarg], earning a [Gold Sub-boss Chest]!

Defeating a sub-boss with 4 party members has earned a [Gold Bonus Chest]!

Defeating a sub-boss dual-encounter has earned a [Silver Bonus Chest]!

The party collapsed to the ground. Ethan couldn’t remember the last time he felt this spent. This headache raging through his mind wouldn’t go away, even after he cast [Cure Wounds] on himself. He dismissed his summon and fell back, clutching at his skull. The sound of three chests dropping from the ceiling didn’t help matters.

“You alright?” Targe asked, rushing over. Unprompted, the Fighter tipped watered wine into Ethan’s mouth.

“Remind me not to use the gloves,” Ethan said. “Ugh, screw those gloves.”

“What happened?”

While Twist opened the chests, Ethan explained what happened. The overwhelming sense to kill was almost too much to take. Perhaps it was because he’d used so many abilities on his summoned spirit. Without experimentation, it was impossible to say. And he wasn’t interested in trying that again anytime soon.

“Good news,” Twist shouted over. “You finally have a hat.”

A dome-like cloth hat soared across the room, hitting Targe in the face. It was a weird hat. Baby blue and domed, almost like an umbrella, it looked completely impractical. Hanging from the brim, which was facing down, were strips of cloth. Whoever wore the hat wouldn’t be able to see a damn thing. Of course, there were four bells hanging from the front, both sides, and the back.

“You’re really earning your name,” Targe said, cramming the hat on Ethan’s head.

To the Caller’s shock, he could see. The cloth that dangled down was still in his way, but he could see perfectly fine. He removed the hat, checking that the cloth was there. It was. When he inspected the item, the description explained what was going on.

[Caller’s Domed Hat of Sight]

[Headwear]

Rank 1

Epic

Description:

Doubling as a weather-deterrent device, this caller-specific design of hat enhances their connection with the spirits.

Effect:

Allows you to see your summoned spirit through walls.

Increases the mental connection between you and your spirits.

+5 [Mind]

Ethan crammed the hat back on his head. “Five [Mind]?” he asked, more of a shout than a question.

“You look like an idiot,” Targe said.

“Wait, there’s no bell effect on this one,” Ethan said. When he turned his head, the bells were silent. “Decorative, I guess.”

“Now we don’t have to see your face,” Twist said, presenting another item for Targe. “Good news for everyone.”

“Har-har,” Ethan said. He hardly had to inspect the item to know it would be useful for the team’s tank.

The shield was an all-metal construction. Ethan doubted the real-world applications, but didn’t know enough about shields to make a decision. It was shaped much like the old kite shield, but significantly larger. Made of some kind of iron, banded around the edges with a darker metal. Rivets bordered that raised strip, and the image of a bull rested in the center, painted with green pigment. It was half the height of the fighter, and seemed to weigh just as much.

Targe looked at the item with reverence.

“Do we need to give you two a moment?” Ethan asked.

“Maybe,” Targe said, running his fingers over the shield’s surface. “Been using that mundane shield for a while. Damn, this new one is so light. Did you inspect it?”

Ethan hadn’t. He pressed his will against the item, inspecting it.

[Heater Shield of the Bull]

[Heater Shield]

Rank 1

Epic

Description:

Hold firm behind this sturdy heater shield.

Effects:

+3 [Vigor].

Reduce the damage you take while blocking with a shield by 50%.

It seemed like a simple thing, hardly worth the epic rarity. But a 50% reduction on damage taken while blocking was massive. Even though a person blocked an attack with a shield, they normally took a percentage of damage to their health anyway. This reduced that by half. That was massive. Ethan clapped a hand over the Fighter’s shoulder.

“You’re a real boy, now.”

“Some mage gear, too. Pants,” Twist said. “Not a bad haul for two sub-bosses. Just a shame…”

“What?” Ethan asked.

“If we take the [Dungeon Core], we don’t get the final boss’ loot,” Targe said. “Small price for helping a Great Spirit, but… hard not to think about what could be.”

While it was nice to think about hoarding gear, that’s not why they were here. Ethan could see the shine in his companion’s eyes as they thought about the extra loot. This would be a test for them. Resisting the urge to take the final boss’ chests instead of helping Lucantele. Assisting the Great Spirit wasn’t tangible. A fancy new shield was. He considered what he’d do if they went against Luca’s wishes. A solo path forward. Something he wasn’t sure he wanted.

Sure, Ethan could likely solo these dungeons. He might get really good at it. But as Twist removed the flame artifice from his pack, setting it down in a section of the room, he remembered what delving with others was about. Long nights without the sky above his head, or even a roof, meant an amount of insanity. A need for social interaction, even for the man who previously worked the night shift. He didn’t get placed on that cursed shift because he wanted it. He was just too amiable to object.

“Stow your worries,” Targe said, punching Ethan in the arm. “We’re in it for the spirits. Same as you. Luca wants [Dungeon Cores]? We’ll load Tulip up until she collapses.”

Ethan came to rest near Twist. He always enjoyed smelling the aromas that were issued from that pot. They’d rest for the ‘night’, whatever that meant down here. A calm moment before they took out another sub-boss, then the boss itself. Targe’s words were more soothing than he could have realized. A beacon in that dark dungeon.

“I have to ask why,” Ethan said, adjusting his new hat. He might have been able to see through it, but the hanging cloth tickled his nose when he moved. He took it off for the meal, anticipating Twist’s move after the tea was done. “You’re not doing this out of the goodness of your heart.”

“Maybe,” Twist said, shrugging. “Some people do good things when running from their past.”

“Maybe we owe you,” Targe said. “You helped clear our names. Didn’t you?”

“But I didn’t do anything, did I?” Ethan asked. “Telbarantis did.”

“Well, there’s your answer!” Targe boomed. He removed his wineskin and held it high. “To the Great Spirits. Those who washed away my debt to the army.”

“To the Great Spirits,” Twist said, finding his own wineskin. “Who purged the sin of my people.”

Ethan found his wineskin, raising it over the fire to toast with his friends. “To the Great Spirits. To Lucantele, who pulled my soul from the void. Brought me to Avansea and you two chuckleheads.”

The group pressed their wineskins together, laughing as they squished above the flames. Each drank deeply from the skins, drowning the awkwardness in a slight buzz brought by the wine. They fell back and laughed about it, burning away their pasts together in that dungeon. Sitting by the fire, each man’s sin was washed away. Through mutual combat, a hope for the future, or a new beginning. Everything fell away, like the names new adventurers took.

Deraeda the dark elf, enemy of Wexenhal sat as the Rogue Twist. Sven, traitor to the king’s army, rested as Targe the Fighter. Ethan the outworlder reclined as Bells the Caller. Pasts forgotten. Desires renewed as adventurers in the [Orc Dungeon]. Brothers reforged in their blood. In their trust.

Ethan sipped on the tea as he reflected on those thoughts. Dramatic as they might be, reinforced by the wine, he drank the citrus tea Twist had prepared. While the Caller had little to do with the preparation of food—constantly hopeless in all culinary matters back on Earth—he enjoyed watching the process. Dinner was some manner of stew today. Twist seemed to have endless jars, skins, and containers of stock in his bag.

The Rogue dumped chunks of meat in a blackened pot. Sizzling filled the open sub-boss room with the scent of browning meat. He dropped a knob of butter in, then diced an onion with ease. Carrots went in next, then some herbs Ethan didn’t recognize. Salt was added at some point, but the Caller had missed that step. Then, in one great pour, Twist added the broth. Perhaps it was stock, but the effect was immediate. A hissing sound issued from the pot, then silence. Several minutes later, it boiled.

“Damn, that smells good,” Ethan said, edging closer to the pot. He took in the smell of the rich aroma. “That’s an adventuring meal if ever I smelled one.”

Targe offered a lop-sided smile. “I don’t think most people put this much effort into food within dungeons.”

“I enjoy my cooked meals,” Twist said, glaring from under his mask.

The wine was making Ethan brave. He stared at the stone facade of his companion, not knowing what the man looked like beneath it. “Do you ever show your face to your friends?”

Twist paused for a long moment, holding a wooden spoon in his hand. His frozen motion remained for some time before Targe cleared his throat.

“Twist was wounded when he was escaping,” the Fighter interjected. “Burned half his face badly. It’s a pain point.”

“Sorry,” Ethan said, suddenly feeling like garbage. “You can borrow my hat, if you want.”

Twist laughed.

Ethan couldn’t help himself. The mirthful chuckle from the dark elf made him laugh. A deep belly laugh that caught the attention of Targe. The Fighter snorted at first, then burst out laughing. It was all they could do to keep stirring the stew while cackling in the dungeon. The ridiculousness of the situation set on in full, and they were soon on the floor, rolling around and ignoring the stew. A stitch formed on the Caller’s side, forcing him to beg for a break.

Fortunately, Targe’s fortitude allowed him to keep the stew from burning. Then the chuckles died down, and Twist served up three bowls of the hot stew.

It was a rich aroma that did the flavor no justice. Despite being a simple dish, it had a deep flavor that spoke to Ethan. Like a comforting blanket that washed over him as he sipped the thick sauce. He remembered carrots being overpowering on Earth, often fouling a good stew. But the flavors here mingled perfectly. Like a well-executed dance. He couldn’t help but see the similarities between that delicate balance, and the Rogue’s ability to dance in combat.

The wine was talking too much. So Ethan sucked down his stew with delight, partaking of the hard bread that Twist had to offer. The dark elf was in the mood to share more about his past, detailing the brutal rituals that his people endured. From birth, they were trained to fight. To take the best core and subcore combination to serve their under-empire.

The conversation swayed to Targe’s past. His was much more boring, containing none of the training that Twist endured. A familiar story in this world, where a man wanted to rise above his station and take a core. He joined the king’s army to see that dream become a reality, then realized he wasn’t a military man. At least he didn’t have an outrageous loan on a truck like they did back on Earth.

Instead, the Fighter got a ducal pardon to ease his passage through the world. That point seemed to make everything better, in Ethan’s mind at least.

“How about we get some rest?” Targe asked, getting his bedroll from his pack.

“I never sleep well in dungeons,” Ethan said, pulling out his own plush bedroll. “Something eerie. Especially since we’re sleeping next to them.”

The bodies of the two orcs were still there. They’d decay over time, but until then they rested near the adventurers.

“Don’t expect a full night’s sleep,” Twist said. “Just get what you can.”

Like true adventurers, no one stripped down to sleep. Ethan kept his hat off, but everyone slept in their gear. It might have been fear of the dungeon screwing them over, or laziness. But they all climbed into their bedrolls and settled down. The constant pulse of magical light from the dungeon made sleep slow to come. But the exhaustion of the day won over each of them in turn.

Snores filled the open room before Ethan had fallen asleep. Something he expected to keep him up for hours. But as his mind drifted, he couldn’t realize that wasn’t the case. He fell asleep with his friends.