Worry not about the Dungeon. Find happiness where you can, let the sun shine on your face, and prepare.
That is all we can do.
Excerpt from The Beasts of the Dungeon.
REPLACE WITH LINE BREAK p^o^q REPLACE WITH LINE BREAK
The thirteenth Gate hummed to life, and Marcus sighed in relief. It had almost taken half an hour to connect it to the network, and he hadn't realized how quickly the difficulty would rise. But it was done, and with it, all four corners of the Empire were connected.
It had been almost a month since Strada. The Dungeon Break was still raging, still growing worse, but the Empire's increased mobility was holding things together. A Legion not needed was swiftly redeployed, entire companies of specialized mages going to and from as they pleased, and overall things were stabilizing.
But not for much longer. Hounds had been spotted drowning themselves at sea, rabidly chasing distant sea monstrosities, and any amusement he might have found in that was absent. It meant they'd crossed the entire continent, and when he'd asked Vistus if that had happened before, the man had just looked uncertain.
Even his isolated home was in danger. Burrowers had finally laid proper tunnels, and his Academy was stretched thin trying to provide enough earth mages to stop the creatures. It was… good for them. Many in his home had questioned the need for a centralized magical order, even if none dared to say so to his face, but those voices were quiet now.
His long absence meant he was starting to become only distantly involved in its working, but the Council of Three had been carefully chosen. Gratham, the old Scribe, was a Royal loyalist if there ever was one, and damn good at his job. Domnic was loyal to Elly, as all her people were, which translated to him. Her warmages were more soldiers than scholars, which helped.
Emma was the only unknown as a former Court Mage, but that woman was far too smart to go against him. Vess was keeping an eye on all three, of course, and had found the predictable thing. Emma was supporting the Academy in full, because doing so was to her own advantage.
Marcus shook his head, nodding to Donna. His apprentices activated the Gate, only needing two tries to link it to Strada. The connection was put on hold, but that mattered little. Donna beamed at him, and even Barcus looked pleased.
They were progressing well. The initial activation still had to be performed by himself, but the act of switching between connections was already—
Elly arrived in a flash of speed, her expression closed off and blank. Marcus felt his good mood drain even before she spoke, though that didn't help. "There's a horde underway. Vistus says Longdale won't endure. He's already called an evacuation."
"Fuck," Marcus replied, waving towards his apprentices. "Send a priority message. Anywhere that has room. Have the Royal Guards keep order, if you must. There can be no panic."
Panic led to chaos, and chaos made sure fewer people would be able to escape. And between him, Elly and Vistus, they held a lot of might. If the old Archmage still called to evacuate, something else was going on. Calamities, most likely.
He teleported himself and Elly towards the city wall, going up then down to achieve it. Storm clouds bloomed in the not-so-far distance, which would limit his mobility, but those weren't here yet.
Longdale spread below him while they traveled, but he cared little. After seeing the first few industrial centers of the Empire, he'd seen them all. Big, populated, with strong walls and numerous guardsmen. This one seemed to focus on brick and ore, resources that were funneled into the city from the entire region, but that hardly mattered now.
Vistus nodded at their arrival, returning his gaze to a distant thundercloud. But, as Marcus focused, he saw that it wasn't a cloud at all. Those were Hounds. "There's no Calamity, is there?"
"Calamities don't fly," the man replied, sounding like he would have preferred it. "Elly, your estimation?"
She replied after a long moment. "More than half a million. Probably close to a whole million, actually. Mostly bats, but there's birds too, and even a few hellions. How many could we kill before they get here?"
"Not enough," Marcus replied, casting a look at the city. Fuck indeed. "Ignore the hellions. They're dangerous, but only to organized armies. Their suicide attacks don't matter much here. Vistus? What's the play?"
The man straightened. "We buy them as much time as we can. I could feel the Gate activate, and Clarissa will stand guard while the VIPs and children evacuate. The more we stall, the more we save."
"VIPs?" Elly asked, tone dangerously low. She and Vistus had been getting along, but evidently not by that much. "Are you suggesting—"
Vistus cut her off, his tone carved from iron. "Skilled mages, military officers and other such personnel will go first. It is not kind, it is not moral, but it will be done all the same. This is a fight for the survival of our species, and it demands logic. The death of one good earth mage here will lead to hundreds of casualties elsewhere, and well-trained officers take years to grow. Generals even more so. You are not this naive."
Elly was clearly inches away from rounding on the man, but then her expression shifted. It became altogether colder, something which Marcus didn't enjoy seeing. But Elly had saved her people from the undead, and he imagined that had taken some hard logic too.
Actually, from what she had told him, he didn't need to imagine at all.
"We delay as long as we can," Marcus agreed, breaking the not-so comfortable silence. "How many ground based Hounds?"
Elly grunted, her eyes clearly inspecting the danger. "None that I can see. Is that usual?"
"No." Vistus didn't seem happy about that in the slightest. "But nothing about this, or truthfully the last several, Dungeon Breaks have been usual. Reserves?"
"Holding at eighty percent. Donna and Barcus are helping me power the initial Gate activation, these days."
"I'm mostly healed from four days ago," Elly added. "Ten minutes at full power before I start to slow. Not sure how much help I can be, however."
Marcus didn't agree, because he wasn't an asshole, but he didn't really see a way either. Elly was dangerous, highly dangerous, but her power only properly shined against a single opponent. Against swarms, especially something like this?
"They're densely packed?" Vistus half asked, half stated. Elly nodded. "Then me and Marcus will handle this. We both have extensive area of effect spells, but our defenses will be lacking. Mobility will be an asset, but I don't doubt some will reach us."
Elly nodded once. "I'll take care of that."
"Good," Marcus said, clapping his hands. "Then let's not waste any time. Ready?"
Both of them nodded, and he teleported them up. The swarm was far, if not nearly far enough, but teleportation was fast. Fast in a way even his own mind didn't fully comprehend. There was no movement, after all. There was no wind in his face to tell him how quickly he was moving, or an ache in his muscles to say how much effort had been exerted.
It was simply an effort of will, and then they were somewhere else. Moved without moving, crossing distance without having crossed it.
As such, it felt like no time at all until they were in range of the Hounds. Whole clouds of them, screeching and screaming and seeming so very hungry. And as Hounds usually did, their focus was on the closest human. On the closest source of meat.
He'd seen the shelters the Empire built to keep their livestock safe. How the beasts tried to hunt for fish, often unsuccessfully. But what was worse than their single minded hunger was the fact it was smart hunger.
Not smart as an individual, but as a group. So while thousands, tens of thousands of Hounds turned to them, more didn't even notice their existence. Those Hounds were far too busy making their way towards Longdale to care.
Even when he lashed out with his sixth-tier 'fuck you and everyone close to you' spell—a name he coudln't find much humor in at the moment—their numbers barely dwindled. Thousands did die, but that mattered little when bodies fell out of view moments later. The only real saving grace was that his targets were so very closely packed together, and thus particularly susceptible to area of effect spells.
Marcus could feel Vistus transmuting flesh into explosives, ripping whole chunks out of the swarm, but it wasn't even ten seconds before Marcus had to move them back. Elly was just in front of them, calmly picking off individual Hounds with her bow, but if they got caught with a full charge…
He had faith in Elly, he did, but faith was secondary to logic. And logic dictated that her blade wouldn't be able to stop that many.
The rhythm, at least, was easy to find. It was far from the first time they'd done this, the three of them. Vistus offered flexibility, Marcus movement and Elly defense. But while that worked well, it wasn't this. It wasn't a mad scramble, nor where they usually ignored.
For every Hound they killed, five flew unimpeded. For every thousand they slayed, thousands more would reach the city. But they were slowing the mob down, even if he wasn't sure by how much.
Marcus lashed out to the right, feeling his reserves dip once again as the sixth-tier spell wiped out a mass of monsters. He teleported them backward immediately afterwards, plucking Elly from where a hundred birds were descending on her. Not that she wouldn't have been able to kill those, of course, but getting bogged down was very far from their objective.
Vistus did something to the air, barely reacting to the teleport. A dozen Hounds froze, their skin turning red, and a split-second later a deafening explosion rocketed the air. Thousands of corpses rained from the sky, soon replaced by thousands more. Vistus sagged, mumbling something under his breath.
Marcus didn't have time to pay attention. A hellion was dodging every arrow Elly was shooting its way, its form shockingly agile, and the bird would kill itself trying to score a wound. A scratch, even. Normal Hounds could be counted on for some level of self-preservation, but not those.
He teleported it down next to his wife, who planted her dagger through its skull without so much as blinking. The next moment he was killing again, and then again, and again and again and again—
Marcus cursed when he noticed the city walls of Longdale rising in the distance, mentally backtracking. They'd been fighting for about twenty minutes, which might, might, have been enough time for the evacuation to have fully started. The Empire was efficient, but it was still a big city.
He checked his own reserves, cursing again when they proved below a third. Even having killed Silent Gods knew how many Hounds, the flock seemed barely reduced. The landscape was littered with their corpses, it wasn't enough. Not nearly enough.
Their proximity to the city meant its defenders were opening fire, a massive lance of flame punching a line straight through the horde, but they only had so many heavy hitters. The sixth tier mage from the Legion was all he knew about, but maybe the Great House had more.
If they did, he didn't notice. What he did notice was the runekasts, the large stones they threw killing dozens of Hounds a piece, but it was just so small. So insignificant. Quantity was a quality humans were sorely outmatched in, and though most of what the Dungeon spewed forth was less than intelligent, it wouldn't matter. Not here.
So Marcus watched, half helpless and half cold, as the first Hounds reached Longdale. Its mighty walls meant nothing to those that could fly, the reinforced rooftops only able to hold so many at bay. Over and over he killed them, and over and over they didn't seem to care.
"Pull back to the portal," Vistus called, his tone sounding so very flat. "We'll stay behind. We're finishing this?"
Elly nodded at the question, and Marcus joined her. Even if it was cold, once Longdale was empty they could return to their usual strategy. Probably after a few hours of hiding underground to let their reserves refill.
The Hounds would die. Just not before killing everyone in the city.
It was better to be inside the city itself. Teleporting became somewhat difficult, what with being unable to go up then down, but there were defenders. So many defenders. Militiamen fighting alongside legionaries fighting alongside armed housewives, a whole people fighting for their right to live.
Which was better in the sense that he could see what he was fighting for, but also worse, because he could see them lose. He could see a flock of hundreds descending on a fortified alleyway, swallowing it whole and leaving nothing behind. He could see shutters being smashed aside, and he could hear the screams that followed.
Cellars, houses, manners and workshops; nothing was safe. If the Hounds smelled someone underground they dug, if they heard them inside they smashed. One street after the other vanished under their wings, leaving nothing but silence behind.
Marcus was on the Gate dome now, a dome that should have had Clarissa protecting it, and he could see a stream of children trying to make it towards them. A hundred fighters were escorting them, unit cohesion long having broken down, but they wouldn't make it. Not even the undead and demons with them, fighting so very hard to save actual children, could do anything about that. Marcus could already see a group of bats turning towards them, pushing off from the belltower they had landed on.
A spark of rage made him teleport them all, a small gap in the dome allowing him to see inside, but that only used up what remained of his reserves. He was under five percent now, which he had to ration to move himself to safety.
Moments later he spotted another group, almost identical to the one he'd just saved, and he finally understood the sheer rage some felt towards the Dungeon. He finally understood the hatred, and he turned away to collect Vistus and Elly.
He had no desire to dream of what was about to happen.
"The last of them are inside the dome, your people included." Marcus reported when he joined the pair. They were inside a fortified barracks, with Vistus having sealed the doors and windows shut. It would hold, for now. He felt a pulse of magic. "The Gate has just been deactivated."
Vistus sighed. "Then we are done here. I'm at ten percent and holding."
"Five, as agreed."
Elly was staring at her hands, only looking up after he called her name. "What? Oh. I didn't have to tap into my full strength for more than a minute. Not that that matters."
Something smashed against the wall, which Marcus ignored. Then another dozen somethings joined in, but he ignored that too. He moved to Elly instead, putting a—hopefully comforting—hand on her shoulder.
She was hugging him with almost crushing strength soon after, not that he minded. He could only imagine what kind of memories this brought back.
It was almost better when a Calamity killed a city. Those at least were expected to. They were the enemy, and killing them removed the problem. But this? This wasn't like anything he'd seen before.
The rain picked up and the wind howled, battering against their little island, but he didn't care. Vistus moved them downwards soon enough, deep beneath the earth, and it would take the flock hours to dig that deep.
They weren't in a hurry. Not anymore. The Hounds would move on, yes, but not soon, and definitely not in a few hours. So he meditated as best he could, Elly clinging to his side a little more closely than usual.
It was rare to see her vulnerable, especially when in the presence of not-just-him, but Vistus wasn't really here, either. The man had made himself a small side chamber, in view but with his back turned. He was talking quietly with the Felid demon, and Marcus didn't care to eavesdrop.
They rested for five hours, at which point Elly's hearing started picking up more and more flight. He wasn't fully recovered yet, and neither was Vistus, but that wouldn't matter overly much. This next phase, compared to the last, was much more… relaxed.
The moment they rose from their earthen fortress the Hounds started circling, which was unsurprising now that the creatures didn't have any other distractions. So Marcus collected the flock by teleporting himself around the city, making some noise where necessary, and then they went into the countryside.
And from there, this was routine. Kill, move, kill, move, rest, kill, repeat. There was no more haste, no more pressure, and that let him balance death with efficiency. From a million strong to less than half, then a quarter, then just a hundred thousand. Fifty thousand, twenty, and by the time the flock numbered less than ten thousand strong, two days had passed.
It was just… work. Not fun, not easy, but just work. Something that occupied his time, something to which he had to pay attention, and something he knew would end soon enough.
By the time the last of them had died, by the time they had sown the ground with a million corpses, Marcus was calm. At ease and almost well rested. Why not take a nap, after all? Why not rest when his mind grew tired? The Hounds had already killed everyone.
Vistus created a small seating area for them, chairs and lunch and more rising from the dirt, and Marcus sighed as he fell into the former. They had circled back to Longdale, just in case there had been any refugees fleeing the flock, and the city was dark and silent in the distance. It made for a good backdrop to his mood.
No raging fires, no flaring tempers. Just quiet, dark thoughts, and the cold knowledge that this sort of thing was happening all over the Empire.
Then Elly sniffed the air, slowly turning to the south while the sun started peeking over the horizon. Marcus turned to her, pouring himself some tea. "What?"
"I smell Calamities. Five of them."
Marcus couldn't quite stop the incredulous, mad bubble of laughter that rose up in his chest, and neither did he try very hard. He took a sip from his drink, gently setting the cup down on the table.
"Perfect."
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