[The Impeccable Adventure of the Reluctant Dungeon] - Book 4 - Chapter 31

The dungeon’s avatar shook for several seconds. Due to the effects of the chrono spell, the action was effectively over when it started.

 

CONGRATULATIONS!

You have captured a triple hero!

0 Core Points obtained

News of your achievement shall be known throughout the entire continent.

 

CONGRATULATIONS!

You have defeated a rank 9 dungeon!

0 Avatar Core Points obtained

News of your achievement shall be known throughout the entire continent.

 

“That’s awkward,” the dungeon said as the pair of messages flashed before the eyes of his avatar. He could see the logic behind each of them, just as he witnessed the rules of this universe struggling to make sense of an event considered impossible. “We broke the universe…” he admitted, uncertain whether that was good or bad.

And who’s to blame for that? Max’s thoughts echoed in the dungeon’s mind.

Images of the universe falling apart appeared in Theo’s consciousness. He could see a great unravelling of everything: the room, the castle, even the Demon Lord himself disintegrating to primary particles before fading away into nothingness. The dungeon envisioned the effects of entropy coming into effect, using his avatar as a starting point as they spread on, devouring the continent, the world, then the universe itself, and all because someone hadn’t considered the possibility that a dungeon-trapped hero ghost could share the consciousness of a heroic avatar.

A beam of golden light flew by the avatar’s face, slamming into the unprotected side of the Demon Lord’s head. Prince Thomas had used yet another of his slow but powerful ultimate skills, reducing the monster’s head to pus.

Unfortunately, having a head wasn’t a requirement for a demon to exist.

The creature’s arms moved swiftly, slamming the royal in the stomach. The golden breastplate flashed bright white before quickly darkening as the hero was sent flying across the chamber into the wall.

The action caused both Theo and Maximillian to snap out of their disturbing thoughts. However, Max was slightly faster to react.

“Seriously, Tom?” the avatar asked, in the most disapproving fashion. “That’s why I told you not to focus your training on slow and heavy attacks. It’s never worth it. Not that you listened, by the looks of it.”

“Baron?” Prince Thomas managed to utter, staring at the avatar. His pride was already wounded by the humiliating fashion in which he had been through across the room. Being lectured by a newbie hero made it unbearable… at least it would have, if the effects of Max’s possession didn’t bleed into reality.

Looking from afar, there was no obvious difference between the avatar now and what he had been a few seconds ago. Yet for someone who had developed his hero perception to the limit, a different image emerged, superimposed over Theodor d’Argent.

“Hardly.” The avatar grimaced. “Well, technically yes, though not through lack of trying.”

Taking advantage of the baron’s apparent distraction, the Demon Lord thrust his arm towards the avatar’s neck. The appendage extended, nails growing to the size of short swords. Just before they could reach their target, the elf rapier effortlessly slashed the air, slicing the hails, fingers, and hand, into thin pieces that scattered on the floor.

“The kids must have done a number on you,” the baron said with a subtle note of mockery. “To think your fingers would fall off after a simple strike.”

“You’re not the baron.” Prince Thomas rose to his feet. “Who are you?”

“Always the kid,” the avatar shook his head. “I had hoped that after all that time you’d improve.”

The royal’s eyes widened in disbelief and slight fear. The attitude, mannerisms, and way of speaking pointed to a single person. Yet, that person couldn’t be here; he had died years ago to a roaming dungeon, potentially a minion of the Demon Lord. And still…

“Master Maximillian?” the prince asked, all but stuttering.

“In a manner of speaking.” This was the part Max hated. Precisely for that reason, Theo relinquished full control of his avatar to the ghost. “It’s magic,” the avatar said, his expression souring.

“The baron brought you back from the dead?”

Ha! As if that idiot could do anything! “He used some memory magic spell,” the avatar continued. “Since he’s incapable of dealing with the situation at hand. Of course, he could have done that a lot sooner.”

You backstabbing snake! Theo’s calm quickly changed to rage. Until recently, he didn’t have the magic energy nor the ability to attempt this. Becoming a rank nine dungeon made impossible things a lot less complicated; the mana gem’s energy didn’t hurt, either. Without the former, there was a good chance that sharing the avatar would have failed. Without the latter, they wouldn’t have had the magic energy necessary to maintain the “possession.”

“I know you,” the Demon Lord said, regrowing the missing parts of his body. “You were the one that destroyed my favorite minion.”

“Archdemon Ziken? Never thought much of him,” the avatar smirked. “Far too arrogant for the skills he had. Although looking at you, I see where he got it from.”

“Just because you’ve killed an archdemon, doesn’t mean you can harm me.” For the first time, the Demon Lord audibly snarled.

“In your state? Don’t bet on it.”

The cocoon covering the demon’s half peeled off, falling to the ground. Beneath it, the fully reconstructed form of the monster emerged, including the left side of his face with all eyes fully restored. They had become more than eyes, though; it was as if a dozen burning purple embers had taken their place.

Theo felt their pull as the eyes tried to suck in all the magic that maintained his avatar, Max included.

Instantly, the avatar leaped several feet back in a series of pulls and sidesteps.

“It’ll take some work to finish him off,” the ghost of Maximillian said using the avatar’s body. “What’s your condition?” he turned to Prince Thomas.

“I’m good for another hour.”

The avatar’s eyes narrowed.

“Maybe ten minutes,” the royal admitted. “Possibly a few less. I’ve already performed several of my specials.”

“All useless ones, no doubt,” the avatar grumbled. “Did you manage to get a hit at least?”

You really are a bastard. Theo said, sharing his thoughts with the ghost. He always had his suspicions about the matter, but now there was concrete proof.

As if you treat your apprentices differently, Maximillian countered.

“A few,” Prince Thomas replied.

The momentary joy he had felt upon learning that an accomplished legendary hero had joined them in spirit was quickly soured by Lord Maximillian’s attitude. There was a reason that the man never took on a true disciple. Even his own son had chosen to take on the bureaucratic nightmare that came with running the hero guild than learning all from his father.

“Do you have anything useful left?” the avatar asked without batting an eye.

“Possibly,” the royal said, suggesting that the remaining kills weren’t something the ghost would approve of, either.

“Then, we’ll have to work with what we have.” The avatar sighed.

“How touching.” The Demon Lord’s voice split in two, witnessing the reunion. “A reunion between master and apprentice, both of them insects.”

Black scales grew out of the creature's body, covering every inch up to the neck. That wasn’t all, though. Each scale was a creature in itself: a minor demon with its own eyes, mouth, and extremely sharp teeth.

Alarmed, Theo used his avatar to cast an arcane identify spell. Unsurprisingly, the first several hundred attempts were disrupted. Yet, there came a moment when the dungeon’s persistence won out, allowing him to take a glimpse.

 

DEMON LORD ENELYION

Considered the seventeenth strongest demon, Demon Lord Enelyion participated in the Demon Wars and attempted to take over the world a total of five times. In three of those times, his efforts were unsuccessful, resulting in him being banished almost immediately after appearing. In the remaining two, he reigned over a large portion of the world for three centuries before being killed by a coalition of heroes, elves, and high-level mages.

Demon Lord Enelyion is said to carry a swarm of all underlings that displeased him, which he uses to create living weapons and armor in battle.

Note! Since the demons’ strength is linked to the Demon Lord’s power, the armor and weapons are considered indestructible.

 

Indestructible armor? While it could be interpreted as a sign that the monster felt threatened enough to consider his opponents seriously, Theo didn’t see any upside in this. Frankly, he preferred when the creature was playing around. At least then he could get a few hits in.

“Living armor?” Max noted via the dungeon’s avatar. “I should feel honored. I’ve only read that in historical poems.”

“Wouldn’t you like that?” The Demon Lord took a step forward.

Theo was expecting him to form a menacing sword of some type, but nothing of the sort occurred.

“Demon swarm armor,” the creature boasted. “My own invention. All other Demon Lords were so set in their ways that they’d consume everything that disappointed them. Ruling over the world twice showed me a different perspective. Even a swarm of insects could defeat a powerful entity under certain circumstances.” All the scales on the demon’s body started hissing and growling. “So, what better way to fight a swarm than with one of your own?”

The logic failed to impress Theo, but he could see how it complicated things. Fighting one demon was difficult as it is. Fighting an army, even if it were a small army, was borderline impossible. To make matters worse, the Demon Lord was taking advantage of the dungeon’s weakness. Even with Max controlling the avatar, any use of powerful heroic skills would be detrimental. A standard hero, one would argue, might find a way to defeat the demon armor, one crack at a time. In this case, Theo had to regrow the hands of his avatar each time.

“You know what they say about crabs,” Max said, raising the elf rapier. “All it takes is one hole in their shell.” He charged forward.

Both swords flew around in ways that Theo could only imagine. All the skills he had learned, all the spells he had acquired, and even the knowledge he had consumed could never have described the actions his avatar was doing. In a way, the fighting style was similar to that of the Everessence: patterns of chaos linked together through a grand principle of intuition. One needed the perception of a hero just to be able to keep up, let alone surpass it.

Oh, boy… The dungeon mentally swallowed. He had to acknowledge his tremendous luck that he never had to actually face Lord Maximilian while he was alive. If the old man hadn’t tripped back when Theo was just a one-room dungeon, he wouldn’t have been in a condition to do anything about it. And to think he had sent out Cmyk to deal with the man.

Stepping back for a split second, the avatar switched swords, moving the elf rapier to his left hand. The legendary sword Max originally held didn’t seem nearly as powerful as the divine weapon, but the old hero was far more used to it.

The pause in attacks lasted barely a fraction, yet against an enemy of such power that proved enough to create an opening.

Three of the thousands of black scales covering the monster’s body changed form, quickly extending in the direction of the avatar’s neck. Not only did they grow in size, but their entire features transformed into the upper halves of sharp-clawed demons.

Run! Theo instinctively used his swiftness ultra spell. When he had full control of his avatar, that would be the go-to spell he’d resort to when in a dangerous situation.

Much to his surprise, the spell triggered, pausing the claws of the demons inches from the avatar’s neck. From here on, he had only moments to perform a single action, which he did, leaping safely backwards.

What the hell did you do?! Max the ghost shouted in the dungeon’s mind. That wouldn’t have killed me!

Right. Just ripped the throat of my avatar wide open. Theo grumbled. Do you know how much energy it costs to fix that? Not to mention that he’d probably leave part of his demonic essence in the wound.

So, what’s a little pain? Max snapped again. The whole point was for him to hit me!

So, you hate me that much? There are better ways to defeat him than sacrificing me for your advantage!

The truth was that Theo didn’t want to experience the pain and the inevitable magic drain that came along with it. The confidence of his explanations, though, gave the ex-hero a reason to reconsider.

Explain. The ghost thought, raising both weapons of the dungeon’s avatar.

Both of us have control of the avatar, Theo said. That means we’re twice… no, three times faster!

The realization had hit the dungeon just as he was saying it, but there could be no doubt that it was the greatest advantage he had stumbled upon after using the chrono spell. In all the movies he had seen in his previous life, possession was illustrated by one entity gaining full control of another’s body. Here, things were vastly different. For one thing, his avatar retained the properties of a dungeon, in which Max was merely a guest. Theo had allowed the ghost to direct the avatar, but apparently that didn’t exclude his doing the same.

Two dozen scales abruptly extended, flying towards the avatar like sharpened tentacles. Before they crossed even half the distance, a stone outhouse emerged from the floor. Fractions of a second later, it was coated with layers of ice. None of that was strong enough to stop the Demon Lord’s attack, but they slowed it down for long enough for Max to leap the avatar away to safety.

“I get it now,” the avatar said. I’ll do the heroic things, and you’ll take care of any magic.

“Get what, Master Maximillian?” Prince Thomas asked, privy only to the spoken part of the avatar’s conversation.

“I get what we’re supposed to do,” the avatar snapped back at him. “Have you started preparing your next attack?”

“Yes. I—”

“Stop immediately! It’s worse than useless now that he has his living armor on! All you need to do is two things: distract him as much as you can and remain alive. Think you can pull that off?”

Theo noticed a glint of anger and determination flash in the prince’s eyes. Most likely, that was a phrase that the royal had frequently heard during his hero training. The dungeon understood and sympathized. Theo himself had known the old ghost effectively for several months and already knew that he couldn’t stand him. It was an outright miracle that Liandra liked the old nuisance.

“I’ll act as support,” the prince said, not using the previous honorifics.

Grunting in acknowledgement, the ghost drove the avatar forward.

Both sides clashed once more. Things were a lot more even now, though that didn’t mean that any side had a particular advantage. If anything, the Demon Lord had the upper hand, using his swarm of demons both to drown all attacks against him.

A battle of tactics and attrition ensued. Theo and the heroes focused on eliminating enough demons to create a chink in the Demon Lord’s armor. Meanwhile, the monster was gradually corrupting their armor and weapons, rendering them just a fraction duller than before. All the heroic gear was special—powerful heirlooms handed down for generations. They had the power to effortlessly cut through any evil remaining untainted. Yet, even sacred weapons had their limits. Just as in the war between deities and demons, slowly the weapons started to give in.

Prince Thomas’ sword was first to shatter. Already dimmed by the constant slashes, it failed to cut through the last pair of demons that emerged from the Demon Lord’s protective scales. One of the creatures grabbed the sword with both hands while the other tried to drive its nails through the prince’s skull. The attempt, thankfully, was foiled by Theo, who cast a quick ice spell, creating a chunk of ice in front of the man’s face. As a result, all that Prince Thomas received was a blunt smack on the forehead as the block of ice was propelled forward.

Was that necessary? The ghost of Lord Maximillian asked as he kept slicing the scores of claws and tentacles flying his way. Of course, it helped that the dungeon would also tip the scales by freezing time with a swiftness spell when needed.

You’re welcome for saving your apprentice! Theo snapped back.

He’s not my apprentice. Just a rookie that tagged along.

There was a lot to be said about that matter. Unfortunately, Theo had started to notice the flaw in his web of plans. The fight in the Demon Lord’s chamber could be said to be going well. It was far better than before, forcing the monster to fight them with all its power. The bubby battle was also going well. Largely thanks to First’s dragon, the minion had been driven to a state in which it was forced to spend more energy on restoring its own self than transferring it to the Demon Lord. Unfortunately, in both cases there was a hidden cost: Theo’s survival.

Even if Max had promised to “tone down his heroics,” a constant supply of magic energy went into countering the destructive effects on the avatar’s body. The same could be said for the city of Rosewind itself. The fire dragon was undoubtedly efficient when it came to keeping the rabbit in check, but in the process, he scorched quite a bit of the dungeon’s main body.

Suddenly, Theo had a realization. While on the surface one could be thankful for the assistance, the fact remained that they were merely allies. Particularly, they were allies who disliked him and wouldn’t shed a tear at his demise. Max, for starters, never hid that he despised the dungeon. The only reason he hadn’t done anything on the matter was because: he didn’t have the means and get destroyed in the process. Currently, he was fighting Theo just as much as he was fighting the Demon Lord. It wouldn’t be out of character for the old ghost to sacrifice himself the moment he knew that his granddaughter was out of danger. The same could be said about the council of dungeons. The dragon had made it clear that all discussions would be paused till the potential death of the Demon Lord. Not only that, but he was particularly careless when it came to fighting, occasionally setting part of the colossus on fire as well.

Anger filled the dungeon’s consciousness, anger that Theo hadn’t felt since his previous life. He had gone through a number of challenges to reach this point and, as a reward, was being attacked on all sides. The dungeons wanted to destroy him because he wasn’t a proper dungeon, while the heroes wanted to do so because he wasn’t the hero he presented himself to be.

A sliver of regret echoed in Theo’s mind. Maybe it would have been better if he had endured the cicada squirrels? He wouldn’t have gotten involved in any of these messes, that’s for certain. Most likely, he’d still be safely sleeping, surrounded by mountains and deadly forests, without a care in the world. It was tempting to do so even now. Instead of focusing on the fight, he could spend the same amount of energy to teleport elsewhere and hide until the entire thing blew over. Let the others duke it out between themselves and leave him alone. It was the practical thing to do. And yet, he felt strangely reluctant to do so. Could it be that saving the world so many times had made him greedy? Felling and starting from scratch didn’t seem appealing anymore. Rather, there had to be a way in which he managed to bring to the Demon Lord’s defeat, while escaping the dungeon’s reach.

Playing around with possible options, Theo kept casting a series of blessings on the Demon Lord. The effects were negligible to the monster itself, but the scale-demons writhed in pain, allowing Max to decapitate several, then thrust the elf rapier into the unprotected spot of the Demon Lord’s torso.

“Hero strike,” the avatar said.

Divine power flowed through the rapier, burning a hole in the demon lord’s flesh. The energy was so great that it went through his back, sending out light like a sacred flamethrower.

Anyone could see that the pain inflicted on the monster was substantial. Sadly, the same could be said about Theo.

The dungeon’s energy consumption massively spiked in its attempt to regrow the flesh of the hand holding the elf weapon. One second was enough to prove that doing so was a losing battle.

Theo covered the palm of his hand with ice, but it was too late. The pain caused his grip to loosen just a bit, and that was when the ten spikes emerged from the demon’s body, piercing the avatar’s chest and, more importantly, pushing him back.

The ghost of Lord Maximiliian reacted, shattering corrupted thorns, though even he was unable to hold on to the other sword.

“Now you’ve done it!” the avatar shouted.

To an outside observer, it seemed that the baron was addressing the Demon Lord; in truth, this was an argument between Max and Theo.

What did you expect? The dungeon shouted. I told you to be careful with your tricks.

I need those “tricks” to kill him! The ghost countered. You could have hold on a bit more! What in the world did my granddaughter even see in such a weakling…

The avatar leaped back as dozens more tentacles shot out, aiming in the baron’s direction.

This time it was Prince Thomas who put an end to the attack, severing the entire cluster of them with a single slash… and a sword that Theo hadn’t seen before. Apparently, heroes were always stocked up on weapons, and seeing the enemies, they thought it was no wonder.

“Are you alright, Master Maximillian?” the royal asked, taking a defensive stance. “That was a magnificent strike.”

Both Max and Theo looked at the Demon Lord. The elf rapier was still there, stuck deep in the monster like a pin in taffy. White light was still shining from the demon’s back, like an active blowtorch, even if significantly less than a moment ago.

“You must have gotten a heart,” Prince Thomas added, cracking a smile.

“Just one,” the avatar replied, displeased. “He’s just wounded.”

Theo knew from experience that a wounded demon was usually a lot more vicious. If the ones he’d fought in Gregord’s Tower were an indication, there was a good chance that the Demon Lord went berserk about now. On the positive side, that means that he’d also become a lot stupider.

Keep up the pressure! The dungeon urged, sending dozens of blessing-tipped ice daggers at his enemy. Normally, such a spell wouldn’t do anything at all, but in the creature’s weakened state, this could be what turned the tables for good.

Theo was about to add more when part of the chamber floor was abruptly drawn towards the Demon Lord.

Both the avatar and Prince Thomas leaped up to avoid getting tripped by the very unusual rug pull.

“Nice try!” Theo said through his avatar. For a moment, one could almost say that this was one final act of desperation. That was before a section of the floor poured into the Demon Lord.

“Master…” Prince Thomas whispered. “What’s happening?”

For once, even Maximillian was dumbfounded, unable to come up with a response. Theo, though, knew exactly what was going on.

“He’s replenishing his strength,” the avatar said. “He’s sucking in the corruption of the castle.”

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