The Dark Lord of Crafting

Cracks ran up the monolith like lightning bolts, and the stone facade crumbled. Stone cubes crashed into the ground, lodging themselves in the earth. The horses panicked, carrying their riders away until they were brought back under control. Gastard's mount, Marie, having faced down both roaring trolls and the magical eruptions of demons, merely raised her head in curiosity as Salenus split and a titan came forth like a baby snake breaking free of its egg.

It began as an avalanche, a formless body of gravel and soil pouring out of the break in the pillar. But as it came into the open, the entity took on a more recognizable shape. Legs formed, thick as redwoods, and a rough torso that quickly sprouted dozens of arms. The sound was tremendous, grinding gravel, shearing stone, the rumblings of an earthquake that had stood up to take a stroll. Its head came together more gradually, sculpting itself into something like a Japanese Oni mask. A wide, gaping mouth, and plenty of horns.

Harpies wheeled and screamed, seeking safety in the sky. I grabbed Leto, and he yelped as I threw him up onto Marie behind Esmelda.

"Run!" I shouted. "Just run!"

Esmelda hesitated, gazing up at the monster that was swiftly shaping itself into a colossus, and I slapped the horse's behind. They took off.

Gastard hefted his sword. Though it would be only a pinprick to a monster like this, he seemed undeterred. His blue eyes hardened as he sized up our opponent as if considering whether he could climb up to its head and get a whack in before we were all crushed.

"Nothing like this has touched our world in centuries," he said gravely, "it will be an honor to fight it at your side."

The giant was just noticing us, the insects around its feet. Its immense weight caused it to sink into the soil as if it were mud, and its shifting feet pushed up the ground like bulldozers. I'd been thirty paces from the monument, and this thing could bridge that distance in a single step.

"It's a freaking kaiju," I said. "There's nothing you can do. Get out of here." "

A dark titan," he said, "I will not run from it."

"Just try not to die." I sprinted to my work table, which had been miraculously spared from being crushed under falling debris. Salenus, though split, was still standing, a testament to the reality-warping power of the crafting force. Arrows sang, bouncing uselessly off the titan's rocky hide as it got its bearings.

There was something to be said for the bravery of people who would try to fight this thing instead of screaming for their lives, but there was nothing they could do. If I was lucky, the Atlans would distract it enough to give me the time I needed. The shaman's voice raised again, and I heard Batu calling for him as he cast another spell. The young man was driving his horse around to join the primary group. Not a good idea. They would be that much easier to squash if they were all together.

"Father! We must go!" Batu shouted.

The shaman was Torgudai, I realized, an orkhan, and the highest leader of their people. If I wanted to make an alliance with the Atlans, he was the guy to talk to, assuming any of us survived. Light gathered once more around the crystal, though it wasn't as bright as before. What he had done to vaporize Fladnag wouldn't be enough for the behemoth, and I had a feeling he had used up a lot of his strength doing that much.

It was, however, getting the monster's attention. The titan turned, its foot dragging a wake through the topsoil, and faced the assembled Atlans. Some were still shooting, but many had the good sense to ride away. I reached the table and fumbled through the process of arranging coins to craft another block of TNT. Without harvesting more material from the boxes strapped to Fladnag's dead ox, I only had the resources to make one more.

The titan's moan echoed across the grasslands, a mountain speaking, though it was hard to discern if that was its voice or simply the noise its body made when it was forced to move. It lowered its torso, changing shape as it went, morphing into something more like a centipede, still with that humanoid face.

Its mouth closed over a warrior who reacted too slowly to get away, horse and man both, crushing them like a trash compactor. It didn't eat them. Instead, their mangled remains dropped out of its gaping maw as it shifted to attack someone else. Torgudai finished his chant, and light blasted from the gem, striking the titan's distorted face. Chunks of its cheek fell away, but it did not bleed. Its body was a semi-solid mass, uniform in composition. There was only more gravel beneath.

I pulled the lever of the worktable, and a block of bound dynamite sprang into being. Then I fished out a couple of potions, Leaping and Speed, and downed them in quick succession, grimacing at the bittersweet mix.

Torgudai gave up on a second spell as the titan focused its attention on him. Its many arms had become legs, and it was better able to maneuver with its weight distributed among a hundred feet instead of two. The orkhan ran under its head, then off to one side. At least it seemed to use its "eyes" to see, though I had no idea why its perception would be centered on its face when its entire body comprised the same undifferentiated rock.

To my aetheric sense, the titan was a vast, seething presence. But that presence seemed to radiate from the head, weakening in the segments of its body that were the furthest removed. Taking the TNT block under my arm, I jogged to its backside and looked for a route up. The rear legs were still the largest, and Gastard was trying his best to slice them up, but he wasn't having much luck.

Sparks flew as his sword scraped against its hide, and it looked like he was doing more damage to his weapon than to the monster. At least it wasn't paying him any mind.

Its rearmost leg was bent at an angle so that the lower half formed a ledge. I leaped ten feet into the air and clambered the rest of the way up. Its flesh was as solid as any mountain I'd ever crossed. Getting onto its back was more difficult. I threw the TNT up ahead of me. Would dynamite explode from being dropped? It didn't, thankfully, and there were plenty of handholds in its craggy flesh for me to clamber up after the block.

The lower half of its body was stable, as most of the motion was happening closer to its head. It crushed anyone who came close, still seeking to take the orkhan into its mouth. The old man was clearly in good physical condition, sprinting like an athlete to keep just out of its reach.

As I stood on its back, a fireball went off against its left side. The flames washed over it, doing minimal damage, but I saw Astaroth was up and ready to fight once more. His magic was weaker in daylight, but even if he had been at full strength, I doubted he would have been able to do much harm to this monstrosity. It was too big, and not remotely flammable.

Grabbing the TNT, I jogged along the titan's back. It shifted under me, but it was broad and flat enough that I didn't lose my footing. The grinding thunder of a mountain in motion drowned out the shouts and screams of horses and men alike. It didn't feel the clomp of my boots or didn't care. Torgudai had wounded it, if only with a scratch, but the rest of us were only buzzing flies.

Its neck loomed up ahead of me, and I planted the TNT at its base, crouching with flint and steel in hand to light the fuse. The seconds stretched out as I scraped out a few sparks, and the fuse caught. I leaped from the titan's back, dropping into a roll amid the sundered earth. One of its legs swiped at me, and I hopped away, summoning the buster sword. If there was ever an appropriate moment to be swinging a six-foot-long blade, this was it.

Boom.

The bomb went off, a plume of flame and smoke rising from behind the titan's neck. Gravel and stone pelted the field and its head lolled. A cheer went up from the Atlans, but it was short-lived. The colossus was far from defeated. Charging in, I raked my sword across one of its legs. They were as thick as tree trunks, but they still seemed spindly compared to its overall mass. The edge bit into its rocky hide, but the result was uninspiring. The cut was long but thin, and a moment later, it began to close.

Its body was only semi-solid, constantly shifting. Blasting off chunks was effective, but slices and stabs would be erased. I switched it out for the orichalcum ax and kept hacking. The giant was having a hard enough time lifting its head again that I was free to continue my attack. Its legs adjusted as it continued to move, and I followed my target.

Cuts might heal, but what about a severed foot?

My world boiled down to a singular aim, chopping. It healed as slowly as it moved, and I went at it like I was harvesting wood. Cracked appeared, then disappeared. Gravel dropped away, losing cohesion as I chopped. When I was about halfway through the leg, it lifted again to take a step, and the lower portion broke off. I was near its shoulder, and losing the support caused its head to droop again, but now it had noticed me.

One leg out of a hundred. Did it have a health bar? Was I even doing damage, or was this all superficial?

Forgetting the shaman, its face swung, and I had to hop back to avoid getting slammed by its jaw. Its maw gaped, dropping to swallow me, and I ran to one side. It got a mouth full of earth instead. Though it appeared to be using its eyes to see, they were just shallow pits in its craggy mask. Stabbing them wouldn't do anything.

Now that it was pursuing me, I didn't have time to hack off any more chunks. Its head would drop, and I could swipe it as I retreated, but these were only shallow scratches. It would never go down that way. My back and forth with the titan gave Torgudai the relief he needed to try again.

His dark features were bleached white by an eruption of light as another beam struck. More gravel fell from its face, and one of its horns dropped off completely. All along its length, Atlans were attacking. Strafing with arrows, ruining their swords against its hide. They were barely a nuisance to the titan, but it was something to see. Gastard was among them, still determined to do the impossible. Smaller limbs had sprouted from the legs so that now it was as if each of them was fighting a monster of their own.

Its upper half was more active, twisting from side to side as it divided its attention between Torgudai and me. I returned the ax to the Storage Ring. As the titan's massive head turned to lunge at the shaman, I jumped onto the side of its face. My hands closed around its lowest horns, and I used them to climb up on top of its head.

It tried to shake me off, and I held tight, pressing myself against the curve of its mask. The gaping hole of its mouth was far too close for comfort, but I pressed my boot into a pock on its cheek and pushed myself further up. It seemed to take forever to work my way around as the head lolled and swung, but I got there. The dynamite had blasted a hollow into the back of its skull and taken off a quarter of its neck, but the damage was healing.

Gravel and stone stretched and flowed, filling the gaps. I threw myself onto the ridge of its shoulders and called Durin’s Digger out of my inventory. What if I had been going about this the wrong way? I might not be able to meaningfully wound the titan with my weapons, but rock was rock, wasn't it? Some of the cracks that had appeared while chopping it with the ax had looked like mining in process.

A few taps from the bright point of the pick was all it took. One cubic foot of its body vanished into an empty slot in my inventory, and I grinned behind my visor. It might have taken days for me to make the entire colossus disappear, but I didn't think I needed to. I planted my feet and started mining its neck.

Blocks after block popped away. They left behind sharp, perfect edges, but those quickly softened as its body sought to restore itself. A leg swung up, jointless, seeking to swat me. Its shadow warned me of the incoming column, and I dodged back, taking a block out of it before it raised to try again. Astaroth had circled in front of the titan and was launching fireball after fireball at its face. His efforts further distracted the behemoth, who then absorbed a third blast from the shaman.

The leg tried to brush me off, its stubby end splitting into a rough-hewn hand, but I hopped over it and continued harvesting. The effects of the potions were ticking away their duration, but in battle, ten minutes was a very long time. When its neck was down to a third of its original thickness, the titan could barely support its head. It tried to twist around and bring its mouth to bear, but the strain was too much, and cracks ran through the gravel. The section that remained to support its head gave way, and its face fell, separating from the main body.

All along the length of the colossal stone centipede, the legs stilled. The titan's body froze, its semi-liquid form crackling as it hardened. But the head was still moving. Even separated from the body, it was still as large as a modest cottage. New limbs sprouted, and it began the slow work of picking itself back up.

The last of its neck had become a spindly platform. I ran to its end and leaped, landing amidst its horns. They swayed, suddenly as flexible as serpents, and struck me, their sharp points ringing against my armor.

Dropping into a crouch, I swung my pick and harvested the stone at the base of the largest horn. No longer connected to the head, it stiffened and dropped away. The others quickly followed.

Suddenly, I was bathed in a brilliant, burning light. A column of divine energy had descended to consume the titan, and I was in the way. It was weaker than the blasts or the beams, but it blinded me and prickled my skin like the heat of a flame. I flung myself from the top and landed hard on my side.

Minor wounds were adding up. I was down to three hearts.

The air filled with Atlan war cries, and my vision returned gradually. The world was full of shadows streaming in to attack what was left of the colossus. I blinked away purple floaters until I could make out what was happening. The Atlans, along with Gastard, were engaging the head in melee. A dozen new limbs had sprouted to fend them off, but it could no longer rise. Its hide was now more clay than rock, and their swords left marks in its flesh.

The light did not affect them as it had me, but it was weakening the titan. They chipped away at it, ounces at a time, working just ahead of its ability to restore itself. Torgudai had fallen to one knee, his face streaming with sweat, his chant no more than a rasp torn from a dry throat. Though the titan was fading, so was the light.

Tired and bruised, I trudged over to the dead ox to collect more sulfur and charcoal. The battle faded into the background as I made my way back to the worktable to craft one last block of TNT. Esmelda and Leto were astride Marie a few hundred yards away. I gave them a wave to let them know everything was okay. Bringing the block back to the head, I shouted for the Atlans to clear out.

"I've got a thunder!" I said, not knowing the word for a bomb in their language, or if there even was one. They were too busy dealing with the remaining limbs to work out what I meant, but Torgudai backed me up.

"Make way!" His voice failed him, cracking on the second word, and the column of light dissolved. The Atlans scattered as the titan's strength resurged. One man was too slow, and a stone spike punched through his chest and out his back. The others wasted no time in retreating.

I knelt, lighting the fuse. The head had lost most of its shape, but it still looked vaguely like a face. Its mouth split wide as it struggled to lift itself on a host of stubby limbs. I tossed in the TNT. The mouth snapped shut, and then it blew up.

Rock rained everywhere, pelting the Atlans. My armor absorbed the impact of the chunks that dropped onto me, but some of the men fell. A haze of smoke obscured the head, still alive, but reeling from the blast. The living portion was now the size of a troll, and I approached it with my pick in hand.

It had strength left to fight, but I was its kryptonite, devouring hunks of its flesh with every swing. The moving pieces dropped away as they lost their connecting segments, and soon it was just a hunk of gravel four feet in diameter. The hunk hardened, shaping itself into a dome. It was giving up on offense, trying to make itself too dense to break. This tactic merely delayed the harvest.

Cracks formed under my pick as I struck, each block requiring ten or more seconds of swinging to collect. The Atlans let me work, gathering around to observe as the dome morphed and shrank.

Beneath the shell was a glass sphere about the size of a basketball, and at its center a purplish flame, radiating menace. The colossus had a core. I tore the orb out of what remained of its shell. Heavy, at least a hundred pounds, I carried it a few paces away and let it drop.

As I watched, gravel formed around the surface of the sphere like scales. When I tried to harvest it, the gravel crumbled.

Atlans were watching me in awe. I spotted Batu, his mouth open, rooted in place. Torgudai got to his feet and hobbled toward me. He shared features in common with his son, a sharp jawline, and a piercing gaze, but with a face weathered by years of wind and sun.

"Do you know what this is?" I asked.

He shook his head, and I swung my pick, bringing it down on the orb with all the strength I had left. The blow jarred my wrists, but the tip of the tool bounced off the glass, not so much as making a scratch.

"We knew that an evil was bound within Salenus," Torgudai said, his voice raw, "but we thought it would be the end of the world."

"Eh," I said, "it wasn't that big."

Gastard had removed his helmet, and he came to stand at my side. His breathing was deep and controlled. He looked ready to keep fighting.

"If the heroes of old could not destroy it," he said, "then neither can you. It must be sealed again."

I glanced at the monument, a massive pillar of blue stone split down the center. Despite its condition, it didn't look at the risk of collapse.

"I'll see what I can do."