Shadowcroft Academy Year 2 - Chapter Twenty-Eight

Tet let her scarab drop to the ground and it started to grow and didn’t stop until it was a massive monster, covered in hard black armor, with curved swords instead of mandibles—actually, they were massive khopeshes, swinging back and forth in front of the tank-sized scarab.

At the same time, Logan drew forth his Skullcap Waddlers, armed with crimson coral blades attached to sturdy sticks. Mariah Carey who raised her weapon. She was about to let out a mighty war cry when Logan shushed her.

<There’ll be plenty of time for that later, Mariah. You’re going to ride Tet’s Khopesh Beetle to the south. Hit the Game of Bones Inn first, break as much as you can, but keep moving. Got it?>

Mariah saluted him. The other little mushroom dudes looked at their leader with wonder, blinking like stunned fangirls. They then saluted Logan as well.

The tank, along with its host of mushroom riders, scuttled off down the snowy street.

Tet and Logan took off in the opposite direction, jogging to the back of the guild hall. Their pups and kits were still in the front, waiting in the shadows, watching Arfgar, who was pacing now, and hitting a big flagon of ale every once in a while. He had a bundle of clanking throwing axes on a leather belt thrown over his shoulder. To the east, the townspeople continued to shriek and flee. To the south, people were leaving in droves, unable or unwilling to handle the stink, filling the air like a plague.

Tet tossed off a couple of her Cryptonic Missiles to shatter the windows.

Snarls erupted from the back side of the guild hall.

In the front, Arfgar howled in fury and surprise. “Cloud Deaths dive!” he bellowed. “Furry Fangs bite!”

<Cloud Deaths? Furry Fangs?> Tet wondered for a second. Then she sent her mew serpents into battle. <Bajjy! Kill that barbarian, and I’ll give you a treat!>

Logan sent Noodle and his litter mates to help.

From above, a giant eagle emerged from the clouds, soaring down through the snow with its claws outstretched. From inside, the snarls were from dire wolves—monstrous wolf-like creatures with red slits for eyes and huge fangs dripping slobber. Ah. These must be the Furry Fangs.

<Tet, you get the eagles,> Logan sent. <I’ll deal with the dire wolves.>

His gills exploded in a storm of yellow Pollinic Affliction spores. One of the wolves fell into a fit of sneezing, blowing out big wads of mucous. All that sinus action had halted the monster in its tracks.

The other dire wolf charged. Logan called forth his ruby shield from his Ring of Pockets and triggered his armor. Simultaneously, his body expanded upward and outward as his fungal exoskeleton thickened. A flick of his ring, and he gripped a silver short sword. Logan was no longer the weak, squishy fungaloid he’d been at Iron Trunk. Now he was a battle tank, ready to go toe to toe with whatever Arfgar had to throw at him.

Meanwhile, Tet thrust one hand straight out and unleashed her queasy green Cryptonic Missiles. A barrage of noxious magic slammed into the incoming eagle. The creature squawked in shock and wheeled around, beating a hasty retreat at Tet’s ferocious onslaught. But Arfgar had used a definite plural in his call to arms. Another giant bird of prey descended and dropped down to help Arfgar fight off the mew serpents and the spore wargs.

The second dire wolf attacked Logan with ferocious rage, its lips pulled back from drooling fangs. The thing was enormous, the size of a horse, and Logan barely escaped losing a limb with his shield. But the creature slammed its shoulder into Logan’s chest, knocking him backward.

Tet’s claws thickened into daggers, her hands swelling in size, and she stepped in, slashing into the dire wolf, which growled and snarled and spit–desperate to sink its teeth into the cat woman.

Logan saw his chance and lunged forward, driving his short sword into the creature’s temporarily exposed ribs. His blade cut through fur and meat with ease; the tip found the thing’s heart, and it slumped to the side.

The other dire wolf continued to sneeze and snort, pulling in ragged breaths as it laid down in obvious pain. Was this a case of mortal sneezing?

Sadly, they never had the chance to find out.

Tet sped over and cut the dire wolf’s throat because you can’t fight and sneeze at the same time.

Logan blinked and put his consciousness in Noodle, who was scurrying away from the outstretched claws of the giant eagle. From the front of the hall burst another couple dire wolves. One latched onto a mew serpent and shook it like a rag doll. The other ripped the throat out of a spore warg, though the monster wolf then went into a fit of disgust because the warg tasted terrible.

Arfgar plucked a throwing ax off his belt and hurried it into Noodle—right into his back leg. The warrior flexed his left hand and a blinding circle of light enveloped his arm, a magical shield if there ever was one. In his right hand he held the battle ax. The barbarian’s animal-summoning was new, as was the shield, but that wasn’t all. The barbarian slammed his battle ax into one of the spore wargs, cutting it in half. A moment later, a phantom blade erupted from the wound and struck a second warg who yelped, wounded, by still alive.

Arfgar had to be fighting as a B-Class cultivator because he was full of tricks.

But so was Bajjy.

When Arfgar tried to sweep his ax into her, the mew serpent vanished in a puff of inky smoke, only to reappear behind him—ready to strike. A loud screech cut through the night as one of the eagles swooped down and slashed through the cat-cobra’s scaly hide before the mew serpent could land a single blow against Arfgar.

Logan was already running low on Apothos, but he’d primed himself for this particular party. He had half of a rotting sheep in his digestion pit, and he could feel the flow of Apothos from his room. It wasn’t necessarily cheating.

Logan brought forth his Kurrybooboos in a rain of spores. The little guys grew into glowing, light-as-air mushroom men, and he sent them bounding off to help their fellow minions at the front of the building. In seconds, the Kurrybooboos had removed the ax from Noodle and were healing the wound. They also took care of the other spore warg who had been hit by Arfgar’s phantom ax.

While the healers did their job, Logan got ready for more mushroom magic. <Tet, I’ll bring the guild hall down. You go and take out that barbarian.>

<He will die screaming,> Tet said rather agreeably.

Putting Arfgar from his mind for the moment, Logan quickly ducked through the hole he’d blown in the wall and started growing his Gem-studded Puffballs around the wooden pillars in the center of the building. It was going to be a nice piece of demolition. He then grew little knots of mushrooms at intervals all the way to the front door.

Before he ducked out front, he flung his consciousness into Mariah Carey, to see how things were progressing. The Khopesh Beetle smashed into the back of the Game of Bones Inn while the Waddlers swarmed in, swords swinging. There were a couple of no-name adventurers drinking there—probably too drunk to be bothered by the smell—but they were soon overwhelmed by the Waddlers.

The fire had burned low in the hearth, but those red coals could be used to burn that place to the ground with only a little effort. Unfortunately, waddlers were terrified of flames—fire and mushrooms just didn’t go together unless a nice Bordelaise Sauce was involved.

But with Logan riding shotgun inside of Mariah, he could handle that little problem. He darted forward on stubby legs, the world swaying uncertainty around him as he ran. With equally stubby fingers, Logan pulled free a crude shovel that he’d packed for just this occasion. He hustled over to the hearth and went to work, fling the glowing coals onto the whiskey-soaked bar. The bartender was long gone. He’d gone screaming out into the snowy night at the sight of the sword-faced beetle tank coming through the wall like an Egyptian-era Kool-Aid Man.

The bar ignited with a woosh, the Waddlers squealed in fear, and Mariah shouted in terror, “The roof, the roof, the roof is on fire!”

Which meant it was time to get the beetle and the Waddlers out of there. They left through another wall while the Game of Bones Inn burned like a Yule log behind them. They headed through the empty streets, now lit by the flickering light, heading toward the Unlikely Unicorn.

However, it was a bit more west than they could reach—both Logan and Tet were restricted by the Area of Influence and those minions were already at the very edge. He could hardly feel Mariah. This was a problem. Time to move.

Logan burst out of the guild hall wheezing and shaky limbed. After summoning all those minions and his Gem-studded puff balls, he was running on E when it came to Apothos. The only thing keeping him on his feet was his bond with Tet. She was a more powerful cultivator than him and the fact that she still had a recent reserve of energy in her core proved it. Thanks to their bond, though, Logan could draw on a portion of that energy as well. Strength in friendship! Winded, he stumbled out into the battle.

Arfgar and Tet locked in a battle to the death. Two of the dire wolves and one of the eagles were dead, lying in pools of blood. However, two other dire wargs formed in darkness, Arfgar calling forth more of his troops. Another eagle circled overhead, ready to rip apart anything that got in its way. Including poor Tet. Logan couldn’t let that happen, but he also didn’t have the energy to stop them.

That he could rectify, though.

With an effort of sheer will, Logan opened a digestion pit in the mouth of a nearby alley then took control of Noodle. His mind invaded the body of the enormous spore warg, and he moved in a blaze, stealing across the cobblestone street. With powerful jaws, he latched onto one of the dead dire wolves and dragged the creature over to the pit, hurling the beast into with a flick of his head. The corpse landed with a splash and Logan’s powerful digestive acids immediately went to work, breaking down flesh and sinew and bone, converting them into delicious Apothos.

A fresh wave of energy surged into Logan.

Still in control of Noddle, he made a run at the second dead dire wolf, hoping to add another body to his digestive stew. The eagle wasn’t having any of it though. It dove with a screech, talons thrust forward like gleaming daggers. A terrible choice. Logan ducked his head and curled his lupine limbs inwards—he looked almost like an oversized roly poly. Except his back was studded with wicked spikes and Blister Wart. The eagle slammed into Logan’s side like a freight train. Logan barely felt it through Noodle’s thick hide.

But his spikes impaled the giant bird, and when the eagle tried to flap its way to freedom, Noddle’s barbs held fast.

Another spore warg leapt up and latched onto the eagle’s wing, pulling it down, while one of the last surviving mew serpents bolted forward and clamped onto the bird’s neck with wicked fangs. The eagle slumped dead to the ground, and it took only a few seconds to haul it into the digestion pit along with its wolfy-brother. Another wave of energy hit Logan, putting a bounce in his step.

<Alright Tet! You know what to do!> he called out, before hurrying away from the front of the guildhall. He needed to get a little distance from the devastation that was about to unfold.

Tet had been trading blows with Arfgar, but she had the dexterity to avoid his ax, and his radiant shield blocked her dagger-long claws. Once Tet heard Logan give her the all-clear, she flung herself onto the barbarian, gripped his skins and chainmail in her claws, and hurled him backward into the doorway of the guildhall. Tet landed on her feet and sped away in a blur of fur and pumping legs.

The barbarian gained his footing quickly enough, but his boots triggered the Gem-Studded Puffballs. The initial explosion turned Arfgar into ashes and set off a chain reaction. Like dominos falling, clusters of the puffballs erupted across the floor of the building until the main clumps around the central support pillars ignited. Every window was blown into glass fragments, all support inside the hall crumbled, and the entire structure fell in on itself. Plumes of smoke, dust and debris, boiled out of the ruins.

Tet snapped her fingers and some of that dust hardened into Sand Spears which she used to impale the last two dire wolves. Arfgar and his summoned monsters were no more. The price had been costly though. Tet had lost all her mew serpents and only Noodle was still standing along with three of the Kurrybooboos. Even though Logan had a new influx of energy, it would be a while before he could conjure forth new minions. He would have to use what he had to finish the job—though Tet still had a few tricks tucked up her bandages of her cat mummy’s sleeves.

Logan and two of his little glowy mushroom healers ran and leapt onto Noodle’s back. They went chasing off into the night with Tet loping along beside. On her shoulders was another Kurrybooboo, who raised a hand, eyes glittering and happy.

The minute Logan and Tet were in range, the Khopesh Beetle and the Waddlers resumed their scuttling run toward the last of their objectives—the Unlikely Unicorn.

The place had emptied out a long time ago because of the pandemonium. Destroying this last inn would be simple. Logan and Tet were going to pass their exam with ease!

Until in a blinding flash of light, Sir Rosencrantz Brandybutter teleported in front of the inn’s doors. He held a long sword made not of steel but of conjured flame—like Arfgar’s shield and magical battle ax, that flaming sword was new.

Sir Brandybutter’s tower shield also ignited in flames. Around him flaming angels appeared, a half dozen of them, blazing warriors with white wings and red-hot blades. It seemed Professor Zantho had really leaned into fire for Brandybutter. The eyes of the fire angels were hollow shadows in the middle of their gaunt faces. Snow hit them and sizzled away. The sheer amount of heat made Logan take a step back on instinct.

Mariah couldn’t contain her surprised squeal. “Hot damn!”

“Looks like the party is over, chaps,” Brandybutter slammed close the visor of his helmet. “By Jove, you aren’t destroying this inn. And all I have to do is hold you until my comrades come, which shan’t be long. They are hot-footing over as we speak. Do you get my jest? Hot-footing?”

“Leave the puns to us, Rosencrantz,” Logan growled.

“Agreed, there is already far too much word play for my taste,” Tet said as she casually tossed out two balls of old, yellowed bandages. The balls landed and bounced, quickly unraveling only to reform themselves into a pair of giant Mummified Baasts. The hulking cat mummies raised their khopeshes and slowly advanced toward the fire angels with deadly feline grace.

Logan had figured they would have any number of fights on their hands, and he’d planed accordingly. Still, as powerful as the Baasts were, they were basically made of old dust and gauze—not exactly the most flame-resistant materials on the planet. But the Kurrybooboos leapt into action, bouncing around their stomping feet, ready to unleash their healing power.

The angels met the Baasts head on in a flurry of clanging swords and flashing spells. For every burn or slash, the Kurrybooboos channeled healing Apothos into Tet’s minions. In a matter of seconds, the mummy cats were able to cut apart two of the fire angels, but there was no way they were going to survive all four. But that was okay—really they just needed to buy Logan and Tet a little more time. Long enough to deal with Brandybutter directly.

From the right flank. the Khopesh Beetle charged in, trailing a line of Waddlers behind. They hit Sir Brandybutter hard, trying to overpower him with sheer numbers. Bury him beneath a mound of fungaloid flesh. But the cavalier was quicker on his feet than Logan had ever seen. He easily batted away the beetle’s sword-like mandibles with his flaming sword, then smacked the beetle in the face with his shield, driving it back. The monster bug did not like fire.

Logan thrust his sword straight out and used some of his newly gained Apothos to conjured Ghoul’s Snare beneath the cavalier’s feet. Energy surged out from his core and black tendrils of fungus sprouted from the dirt, wrapping around one of Brandybutter’s ankles. It wasn’t much, but it was just enough to slow and distract the cavalier. The Waddlers surged forward, wrapping themselves around his legs. They overwhelmed Brandybutter, driving him to the ground, where they used their crimson coral weapons to beat on his helmet and armor. It should’ve been the end of him, but no. His armor seemed impenetrable.

And that wasn’t all. Even on the ground, the cavalier fought as ferociously as a cornered wolverine. He slammed his sword onto his shield. An inferno of energy erupted from his armor, blasting the Waddlers off him and turning them into crispy mushrooms, blackened and inedible. Mariah Carey let out a little peep before flopping onto her face.

Brandybutter scrambled to his feet, his armor glowing like it had just come off the forge. The smell of burnt mushrooms danced on the air. “If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought stroganoff was on the menu.”

This updated inferno cavalier wasn’t to be trifled with. Any thought of trying to go toe to toe with Brandybutter fled Logan’s mind. Even in his newly evolved form, Logan was no match for the kind of power the cavalier was slinging. Not only was he strong and fast, but clearly Professor Zantho had made sure that type match-up would favor the dungeoneer. Instead, he retreat toward the dark of a nearby alley. The second he was free from the fray, he sent his consciousness zipping into the Khopesh Beetle.

The world reeled around him as he took a minute to get accustomed to the size and power of the monstrous tank. Still, inhabiting the beetle was a hundred times easier than maneuvering one of Tet’s centipedes. Namely because the beetle had a hundred times less legs.

“Not this time beastie,” Brandybutter said, advancing in his glowing red armor. “As soon as I put you to bed, I’ll deal with that mushroom man.”

No matter how tough the Khopesh Beetle, Logan knew it wouldn’t be a match for the Brandybutter. Again, Professor Zantho had designed this town to defeat him and Tet both. Fine. Logan didn’t need the knight dead. He just needed that inn destroyed—that was the objective and anything else was just gravy on top. Controlling the Khopesh Beetle, Logan drove the big body forward, barreling into the inferno cavalier and pushing him back through the doors of the place.

Brandybutter slashed at the monster bug, and though Logan felt the damage, it wasn’t as painful as he would’ve thought. A Kurrybooboo lighted onto Logan’s shoulder and sent a wave of healing relief down through Logan’s chitin. Brandybutter’s eyes narrowed as the wounds littering Logan’s armored torso healed, and then his gaze shifted to the puff ball of light.

“Not on my watch, old boy,” the cavalier said. He backpaddled and clanged his sword against his shield. A clarion note rang out and a halo of searing fire enveloped Logan, flash flash-frying the Kurrybooboo and melting the Khopesh Beetle’s face off in the process. His sword mandibles turned to goo on the floor.

Worse, the inferno cavalier seemed to have ultimate control over his flames. Not a single chair or table were scorched.

Logan found himself back in his guardian form. The Khopesh Beetle was gone.

Tet was a blur of speed, though, and she dashed inside the tavern. She leapt over the bar and started hurling bottles of booze at the knight. He broke the first bottle with his sword but the liquor struck the wall and burst into brilliant flame. The next bottle smashed into his burning armor and spit up more fire still. Even when he batted a bottle out of the air, the alcohol splashed onto a wall, spreading the blaze. Half the inn was already gone thanks to the beetle’s attack, and with the flames running wild, the Inn wouldn’t last long.

Out front, the Mummified Baasts were keeping the fire angels busy, and one Kurrybooboo was remained. Logan called it to him while he saddled up on Noodle. The little glowing mushroom man floated down behind Logan, chirring contentedly despite the chaos and battle all around. They had a very cheery disposition, Logan was finding.

One Mummy Cat fell, slashed apart and set to the torch, and the other wasn’t far behind.

<Let’s get out of here, Tet,> Logan sent.

The cat woman burst out of a window in a spray of glass while Brandybutter howled, “Betrayed by my own flames! Oh, the irony!

Logan, Tet, and the last of their minions escaped the town through the southern gate as the blaze spread through the snowy night. Like before, Logan rode Noodle and Tet ran alongside them, easily keeping pace. The glow from the Kurrybooboo lit their way.

Yes, the other simulated dungeoneers—Sir Mediocritus, Hallsee the Sad, Mimsy, Feathers, and Daggers McFinn—might make it to the inns, but they were already smoking and gone.

In the fields outside the city, Logan turned to Tet as they watched the orange tongues lick the night sky. He raised a hand. “Give me four.”

She slapped his hand with hers, making sure her claws were retraced. “Here is five.”

“I’ll keep the change,” Logan grinned.

The feline sandmaster sighed happily. “I don’t know what means.”

Professor Zantho fluttered out of the darkness in a spray of gleaming sparks. She landed on a nearby bolder with her arms crossed and a scowl tattooed across her face.  “Fine, maggots,” she growled. “Looks like you both passed without a single civilian casualty. And, to top it off, you killed Arfgar, who I had pumped up with magical items and druidic summoning. You didn’t do too bad with Brandybutter either,” she admitted begrudgingly, “and he was a massively heavy hitter. I made sure of that. Congratulations.”

The last remaining Kurrybooboo flung himself up into the air to hug the fairy fetch, but she drew her sword and cut the mushroom in half. The pieces thumped to the ground. She let her lips curl in the rare grin. “I don’t go in for the mushy stuff. Keep your mushrooms to yourself, fungaloid.” She paused and canted her head to one side. “All things considered though… Not bad, you two. Not bad.”

Tet smiled and hugged Logan. It looked like she didn’t mind the mushy stuff at all.