Dual Wielding

The edge of town had been turned into a makeshift barrier, with barricades hastily thrown together as the able-bodied townsfolk readied themselves. A few of the hunters had set up on the tops of nearby roofs with bows, scouting the darkness for signs of movement.

Wyn meanwhile, barked orders and information to the town guards so they could spread the word about the monsters he was aware of. “…don’t try to cut the skeletons with black metal bones, use blunt force instead, and if you’re fighting a large bony spider, make sure to aim for the ligaments.” He wanted to continue, but at that moment, one of the hunters sounded the alarm and everyone took their positions.

Wyn turned to the hills, and his eyes picked out the horde of monsters moving towards them. It was as if the entire dungeon had been emptied, hundreds of monsters spilling out across the fields.

“Spirits help us…” He turned to see an older man wielding a spear, the tip shaking in his hands. “There’s even more than last time.” Wyn looked to the next man, his face had grown even more crestfallen at that declaration. Up and down the line, people were trembling. Fear gripped them like a vice and spread from man to man. Wyn could see it in each of their eyes, they didn’t think they could win. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure they could either, but someone had to believe, someone had to stand up and start it.

Wyn grabbed a torch out of someone’s hand, their protest sputtering even weaker than the flame as he leapt over the battlements and began to walk towards the monsters to audible gasps from the assembled warriors.

“Why are you here?” he yelled, forcing his voice to project over the wind and rain. “Why do you stand in the rain instead of huddling in the garrison? I hear your voices! I hear your fears! You think we’ll surely die; you think our fight is futile… You are wrong!” He thrust his torch into the air, holding it above his head. “I am Wyn, son of Reyna, guardian of the tomb, the pit from which these monsters have crawled! Is there any among you who knows them better than me? They think they’re bringing hell to us. Well, I disagree, when those beasts reach this town, they’ll find that it was waiting for them right here. Raise your spears high men! You came here to defend our town, our home! By the time day breaks, every monster out there will be dead by our hands!”

The rainfall seemed louder in the silence that followed. Damn stories always made it seem so easy, maybe it wasn’t the proper time.

At the very least, a few men seemed to shake less at that, their eyes focused a little more. Wyn turned to the horde of beasts, and saw that a large grimwolf had sped ahead of the rest. The mutt was the size of a small horse, with singed fur and a mouth that puffed with smoke. It pounced at Wyn, but this threat was beneath him by now, a mere first floor monster. He whipped his sword through the air, bisecting its head from the rest of its body as it flopped to the ground behind him, killed in one clean stroke.

Ah. Now is the proper time.

Wyn roared with every ounce of fury he could muster, and Straetum roared with him. Then, like an avalanche falling down the side of a mountain, the wall of monsters crashed into him.

***

Corrin awoke with a start, breathing quickly as he regained his bearings. “If I pass out one more time, I swear to the spirits…” He growled.

“Welcome back Corrin,” Azoth spoke smoothly, his voice calm, but with a hint of excitement, “How do you feel?”

Corrin patted his chest, taking several deep, testing breaths. They seemed to come so much easier now, like a weight he hadn’t even realized he’d been carrying had been taken off his chest. “Good, really good actually.” He shook the numbness out of his hands as he stood up.

He checked the gash on his leg, which had disappeared, healed entirely, along with the rest of the wounds. His body felt fresh, like he’d never fallen into the dungeon at all. Corrin had almost forgotten what it was like not to be in constant pain, and the relief was so great he almost laughed. He rolled his shoulder and stretched his back, reveling in what it felt like to finally have a healthy body again.

“Try channeling your mana,” Azoth suggested, a small grin creeping onto his face, though it quickly fell when he saw Corrin’s confused expression. “That energy, surely you’ve noticed it by now. Use it.”

Corrin tried to breathe it in as normal, but didn’t feel anything more than a trickle, like there was some sort of resistance preventing him from taking in more. “What the hell did you—” He trailed off as he tried to feel the effect of the trickle on his body. When he tried to imagine the pool of energy as he had before, he saw it. Not an imaginary concept he’d thought up to help him control it, but an actual, swirling flow of energy within his body. It was as though he’d lived his whole life blind, and only now opened his eyes.

“Woah,” He murmured.

“Mana, Corrin. For someone like you, it is power incarnate, the very essence of reality altered into a form you can harness. It will strengthen your body, enhancing it beyond its limits, and so much more.” Azoth’s voice was like a whisper, though even his whispers seemed to fill the whole room.

“It’s… incredible.” Corrin said, and he meant it. As he watched, fascinated, he realized that the black and white energy—mana, seemed to pulse and change speeds with his breathing, and it flowed through channels in his body without his direction, in a spiraling pattern too complex for him to begin to understand.

“Use it,” Azoth demanded, “Summon it to your hand as before. Quickly.”

Corrin nodded and began the slow process of pooling the mana in his hand, willing it to travel through the channels that had been set for it.

It responded almost immediately.

The mana flowed into place with the speed of a snake striking its prey, the power in his hand spiking almost as fast as he could think of it. It felt less powerful than before, and was restricted by the channels, while before it had been completely free, but it seemed somehow more refined, and the control was incredible. With a thought, the mana pooled, slid and strengthened any part of his body he wanted.

“Before, you were taking mana into your body with no restraints, like forcing yourself to drink a lake’s worth of dirty water all at once. Your body simply can’t handle that sort of strain, and it was killing you. I’ve imprinted a mana channeling technique on your soul, a filtered straw if you would.”

“That pain in my chest…” Corrin realized.

“The result of mana poisoning. Raw mana is poisonous in most cases, but with a channeling technique, your body learns to filter out impurities. It also restricts its flow to an amount your body can handle, solving both problems. That’s why you can’t take any in right now, you’re already long past full.”

“And the speed?” Corrin asked in wonder.

“The channels increase the pressure, while decreasing the amount you’re trying to command at any time. With practice, you’ll be able to take in more, but for now, you’ll need to expel what you already have.”

Corrin was distracted, moving the mana around his body, but he got the gist. “Thank you. You’ve been… surprisingly helpful, for an evil spirit,” He admitted.

Azoth cackled raggedly, “I’m no spirit Corrin. Some sniveling lower being who enjoys giving vague answers and half-truths. I am beyond them, along with your… human concepts of good and evil. I am more than capable of being helpful to something like you.”

“But I doubt you’re doing it out of the goodness of your heart. You must have some reason or reasons that you’re doing this.”

“Did I ever claim otherwise?” Azoth asked.

Corrin tried to be on guard after that statement, but even with the newfound power, being in Azoth’s presence seemed to suffocate his mind. “And what are those reasons now?”

“Now that,” Azoth paused, grinning wickedly, “Is not something I will tell you.”

“So much for being helpful.” Corrin turned to leave. “Thanks for saving me, but I’ve had enough of this place, I’m heading back.”

“One more thing, Young Corrin. Those monsters will bar your way no more. In fact, I will provide you a path back to the surface.” The demon raised his hands and the stone shifted, a new stairwell appeared in the wall, leading upwards. “However, there is still an excess of mana in your body, and it will still kill you unless you exhaust it all. Luckily, I’ve given you the perfect excuse to do so.”

Corrin whirled back around on his heel. The tone in Azoth’s voice finally set him on edge. “What did you do?”

Azoth spread his hands magnanimously. “My my, you should be thanking me Corrin, I’ve given you what you’ve wanted. All the monsters within this dungeon have left, and as part of our deal, I’ll ensure none respawn. This dungeon will become inert, and you won’t have to clear it any longer. Isn’t that what you and your friend wanted?”

“What did you do?” Corrin drew his sword, though that only elicited laughter from the darkness.

“I sent them out of the dungeon, most will be heading south. Perhaps they’ve already arrived by now…” Azoth trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air.

Corrin’s blood froze in his veins and rage flooded his body. Without a thought, mana surged into his arms, and he slashed at Azoth, the air crackling with power. But the shadow merely parted briefly before coalescing back together, and an even bigger grin stretched over the demon’s face.

“Now, is that any way to treat the one who has given you what you wanted? I would hurry Corrin, who knows how long they will last without you…”

Taking one last hateful look at Azoth, Corrin turned and began running up the stairs, channeling the mana in his legs to send him up faster than he thought possible, bounding up three to four steps at a time. All the while, he felt the mana in his body churning. With each step, he became more aware of its existence, and was able to feel it more clearly.

As it flowed through his legs, little motes of power trickled out of the channels and into his muscles, suffusing them with strength. Even with his newfound speed though, the tunnel ahead seemed endless. The slope of the stairway wasn’t particularly steep, and he must be thousands of feet deep by now. To his surprise though, only a few minutes later, he suddenly found the tunnel exit, putting him back into the tomb, in familiar tunnels.

Looking around, he recognized it as the first floor, and after a few minutes gathering his bearings, he sprinted towards the exit.

As he drew closer, he was able to smell the fresh, stormy air, so sweet after his time in the caverns below. Finally, blessedly, he saw a flash of lightning up ahead, and rounded the corner to see the way out. As he dashed out into the storm, he came skidding to a stop at a horrible sight. A mutilated corpse lay in the grass, the rain washing away the trickles of blood that seeped from it. Though it was mangled beyond recognition, Corrin recognized the spear that lay beside it, its shaft painted a deep blue.

The sight instantly sobered Corrin from the feeling of power the mana had granted him, and his rage grew sharper still. He didn’t have time to grieve, but he couldn’t help but stand in the rain for a moment. Why did Orm’s death affect him so much? They were hardly acquaintances, but the man had been kind to him and Wyn.

And his death was Corrin’s fault.

Corrin’s fist clenched as he burned the sight into his brain. He wouldn’t forget. “I’m sorry… I swear, I’ll save the rest. Your family will live.”

He took off towards Straetum, leaving the body behind.