Shadowcroft Academy Year 2 - Chapter Thirty

Chadrigoth of the Diabolus Diaboli, of the Eritreus Elite had watched Inga leave Enrico’s Inn and Fry Kitchen. The fungaloid weasel soon followed. What had happened to Tet was unfortunate, but accidents happened, especially at a place like Arborea, with so many secrets and treacherous places—places Chadrigoth was not afraid to go. He’d been there in the Submerged Hell with Tet. Of course he had. It was all part of his secret plan.

But having Tet join with Logan for her mid-terms had nearly broken Chadrigoth’s mind. He didn’t understand how everything could go so wrong. It was like home all over again. Rockheart had all but abandoned him, and his team had been embarrassed over and over. Magmarty, destroyed by a low C-Class cultivator. His girlfriend, Lady Elesiel of Everstar defeated in front of the Fairy Fetch, to Chadrigoth’s great and undying shame. Even worse, it was by someone as genuinely awful as Logan Murray, the dungeon core who never should’ve been allowed to attend such a prestigious institution as the Shadowcroft Academy for Dungeons.

Both of these Terrible Twelfth morons thought he wanted to fight, and maybe it might go that way, and Chadrigoth would fine with that—he wanted a re-match after what had happened before in Vralkag, just outside of Enrico’s. He couldn’t forget that he’d been ensorcelled by some kind of pastry magic to stay away from the Terrible Twelfth for thirty days. He probably should be mad at Melvin, but the kitchen ghast’s food was too good for Chadrigoth to hate that dorky dungeon douche.

Still, standing in the market, Chadrigoth had to pause. It was sobering to see Logan Murray so tall and wide, his big fingered hands curled into fists. New mushroom growths sprouted along on his neck, back, and shoulders, giving him more bulk. The air swirled with deadly spores and hung heavy with the promise of impending violence. The abyss lord might not have any respect for fungaloid, but he had to respect the spores. Afterall, he’d seen them reduce Magmarty into a pile of rock, ash, and fungi.

Inga’s eyes glowed brightly, and she unfurled her wings. Long flashing blades extended form her hands—those would be her Chrysalis swords.

While Chadrigoth didn’t want to start the fight, he’d end one if he had to. First though, he wanted to talk and get clear the air. Honestly, this conversation was a long time coming. “It’s fine Tet is hanging out with you. She can do what she wants. And sure, you’ve been making some waves, but it won’t matter in the end. Either you’ll die at this school or you’ll die when the first dungeoneers come. Makes no difference to me.”

Everything he said was a lie. He hated that Tet was spending more time with the Terrible Twelfth. Chadrigoth blamed himself for that. He’d failed to show her that the First Cohort would always rank the highest and give her access to the best tinctures, techniques, and resources to improve her rank. Yes, he should’ve visited her more when she was in the infirmary, but he’d been busy with his secret project. That project had taken over his whole damn life. Nevertheless, he wouldn’t abandon it.

The fungaloid dropped his fists, though the spores still glittered around him. Inga re-absorbed one of her swords, but the other blade remained, posed to strike if need be. Shopkeepers and shoppers looked on, but some of the stall owners started closing up so they could seal off their booths and not lose merchandise. Fights in Vralkag were rare but not unheard of.

A goofy grin split the fungaloid’s face. “Gee, Chadrigoth, I can feel your support. Warms my heart. Why are you really over here?”

“I’m done playing games with you. Tet will realize where her true loyalties lie. In the meantime, I’m going to ignore you. I’ve already spent too much brain space on you losers. You’re not in my league and you will never be. Stay out of my way and I’ll leave you alone but hear me—if you get in my way, I’ll destroy this town, this school, this realm. And you with it. I won’t even think twice.” Chadrigoth exhaled fire from his nostrils as he turned up the temperature on the black flames flicking around his head like a crown.

Inga final spoke. “Is this about Toddrick?”

Despite his considerable heat, a chill raced down Chadrigoth’s spine. “My brother? What about him? He’s a very successful dungeon on Gloogig. Why would you bring him up?” Chadrigoth’s first impulse was to reduce the marketplace to a smoking crater with a hell cracker blast. His next was to summon a dozen Unleashed Spawn and sic them on the mothmancer. He pointed a finger at her. “Choose your next words very carefully.”

Inga clearly wasn’t cowed. She once more conjured her other sword. “The Codex Athenaeum just got a few dozen back issues of TGZ and the Eritrean Inquirer. I’ve been perusing them, and they really enjoy discussing the affairs of the Diabolis Diaboli. Your family is very famous—especially amongst the tabloids.”

“As they should be!” Chadrigoth hissed. “But why in the name of the seven hells would Shadowcroft’s library have The Thirty Galaxy Zone and the Inquirer? Why would you read that trash?”

“Because,” Logan stepped in front of Inga. “We want to know who hurt Tet and who’s been killing dungeons.”

Chadrigoth hardly heard him. “You know, my family is, at this very moment, guarding some of the most powerful nodes in the multiverse against dungeoneers. But of course you know that. Everyone wants to talk about my father and Toddrick, and you’ve obviously read that I’ve been a disappointment. Me. I’m the most powerful core here at Shadowcroft, but just because I went the traditional route, I don’t have their genius. You’ve read about my father, Norman, right? Norman Nobleblade? And the Weeping Hells, an S-class dungeon. My father is a Heartwood Cultivator, and he got there himself. By himself! Do you know how rare that is? Of course you don’t! You both are such morons!”

The market stalls near Chadrigoth were smoking because the angrier he got, the hotter the hellfire flowing through his veins burned. Black flames swirled around him like a midnight inferno. A few shoppers, standing a dozen feet away, coughed a bit at his smoke.

The abyss lord knew he needed to stop talking—that he was letting Inga get under his dark-blue skin, letting himself get worked up—but he couldn’t stop himself from ranting “Do you know that Rockheart wanted to take us to my father’s Weeping Hell last year for our field trip? That’s right, we went to the Slaughter Pits instead because my father was too busy for a school field trip. Of course he was. And besides, the Weeping Hells is actively stopping dungeoneers from killing the Tree constantly. It’s powerful. He’s a powerful Heartwood dungeon lord, you know, or did I already mention that?”

Both fungaloid and the mothmancer were gazing at him like he lost his mind.

Let them think what they wanted. He knew the truth. And it was oddly freeing, throwing this fit, unleashing his ire on them. “Everyone knows Father is a Heartwood, just like everyone knows that Toddrick is a Jade Leaf. Both of them did on their own. No schooling. Toddrick just cultivated himself right into a dungeon core, and then took off to Gloogig, which is beautiful. Sure, he said there was a bunch of nodes there, and I guess there are, but he really went there for the gorgeous glaciers and Greta, but we won’t talk about Greta. It’s not like Greta chose him over me.”

“Who is Greta?” the fungaloid muttered.

“I’m not talking about Greta!” Chadrigoth roared. More stalls were closing. A few of the shopkeepers whispered about calling the town guard. Or Rockheart. Or Shadowcroft himself.

Let them.

Chadrigoth’s fury knew no bounds. “If you must know, Greta was a princess of Haven Home, one of the emperor’s descendants, and she liked Toddrick, sure, but he was two years older than me. There’s a big difference between a fifteen-year-old prince and a thirteen-year-old kid. But it was too late. Greta and Toddrick, together forever. She stayed human, moved to her Gloogig palace, and so it’s Toddrick and Greta all day long and every day. Not that Greta was like Tet. The two are so different. It wasn’t like it hurt me that Tet chose to do her mid-terms with the fungaloid. Ha. That’s laughable.”

Chadrigoth curled his hands into fists and took several deep breaths. Okay, so maybe this was getting a little out of hand. Logan Murray wasn’t worth it, he reminded himself. He was a loser from an Apothos-poor speck of dust in the ass end of the Universe. Chadrigoth was the most powerful core at the academy and a prince to boot. Finally, the abyss lord managed to get control of himself. He’d been so distracted lately, so consumed by his project. It was a way of being just as good as Toddrick, not that he needed to prove anything to anyone. Especially not Toddrick or Greta. He was very happy for them. He’d come to Shadowcroft, not to be admired by Rockheart and the other students, but as a way of walking his own path. And the academy was one of the premier institutions in the universe after all.

“Where was I?” Chadrigoth asked.

Inga had re-absorbed her swords. “I think you were telling us about your brother.”

That added more fuel to his rant furnace. “Which one? Toddrick is the golden boy? Or maybe you mean Braddrick, who just loves to bad mouth me to my mother. Oh, we’ll talk about my mother in a minute. But first we have to mention Alddrick, don’t we? Alddrick who is studying cultivation, but he doesn’t care about protecting the Tree. He just wants immortality. He’s five bad minutes from joining a dungeoneering guild, I swear. Then there’s Brian, who does nothing—and I mean nothing. Which makes Mother talk about him all the time. She started the rumor about him and the Psuche Powder. It’s not true, by the way.”

Chadrigoth hated Brian the most because he was pretty sure Brian was the most talented of the Nobleblade brothers, but he was squandering that talent on fancy dinners, too much silverware, and gourmet coffees.

As for the Psuche Powder, it was Chadrigoth who was up to his knees in the red substance. In fact, he even had a little of the powder in his pocket at that moment. He had plans. Oh, he had such plans.

“What about your mother?” the fungaloid asked. Was that a smile on his face? Or a grimace of terror? It didn’t matter.

“My mother?” Fresh rage blinded the abyss lord. “My mother drove us constantly, nothing was ever good enough, and of course, she was so proud that her husband had transcended the court, though I secretly think that she thought Toddrick would stay with us in our palace.” He laughed. “The joke’s on her. Toddrick left her, and Mother is so jealous of Greta. Ha! I’m glad she suffers. Mother, not Greta. Mother always said I would never amount to much. Your own mother, telling you that? Can you imagine that? It’s cruel. But I showed her. I showed them all. Just like I’ll show you!”

He took three grand steps and got in Logans’ face. The fungaloid’s spores turned to ash in the intense heat of Chadrigoth’s flames. “Not that I have to show you anything. I don’t have anything to prove to anyone! My mother always said I had a chip on my shoulder, but that just shows you how little insight she actually has!”

Logan blinked, an expression of dizzy wonder on his face. “Wow. Just. Wow.”

Chadrigoth realized his mistake. Not that he’d basically gone on a rant and told these worthless cores about his family issues. No. If the moth woman had read those gossip rags, she would’ve known all about his family drama already. No, it was more that talking to them might lead to an accidental confession about his secret project or any of his other private business. Also, right then, he decided that he was going to finish what Rockheart had started the year before. Without Logan around, the focus would return to the First Cohort. That would make his parents sit up and take note.

The abyss lord backed up and extended a single claw. “Like I said, you stay clear of me and I will ignore you. You and your pathetic attempts at being anything other than a weak Urothling are so far beneath me it’s not funny. Which is why I’m not laughing.”

Chadrigoth spread his dark, demonic wings and took to the sky, flying away from the marketplace and the dumb looks of those losers. The abyss lord was going to be a winner, and he wouldn’t suffer through the days of his schooling having to deal with people that were so inconsequential. He glanced down at the two specks that were Logan and Inga. They were beneath him, literally, right where they belonged.