Shadowcroft Academy Year 2 - Chapter Twenty-Seven

The next two weeks raced by in a series of grueling days of classes and even more brutal nights, spent tucked away in the Library or cultivating and strategizing inside the walls of the Coliseum. But by the end of it, Logan and Tet were as ready as they were ever going to be. Hopefully, it would be enough. Both Professor Zantho and Professor Arketa made it abundantly clear that the siege of the simulated town was a critical mid-term and the single biggest test outside of finals since it brought together both their Minion Management and their O.D.D classes—O.D.D. was how Zantho referred to it since she was a fairy fetch who enjoyed a good acronym.

Professor Zantho had also driven home the point that she was going to throw the book at Logan and Tet. Not only did they have the advantage of being two B-Class Dungeon Cores, but she had an ax to grind and Logan was the grind stone.

Both Logan and Tet stood in the plain inner sanctum of the Tartarucha Cells on the night of their mid-term. They were sealed in by a huge wooden door which would lead up to the simulated version of Vralkag. The Threshing Turtle’s wheezy voice croaked through the stone corridors.

“Well, Logan and Tet, I know you’ve made several trips into town, and I know you’ve been working hard. I pray your hard work will pay off tonight. In a few minutes, the door will open. Keep in mind, a dungeon core leaving the dungeon is a dangerous bit of business. A dungeon is armor for our true selves, yet sometimes a terrible need arises, and you must venture forth, yes? But do so with wisdom and prudence in equal measure. If your gem core is shattered, you will join the Tree of Souls. You have until dawn—three hours from now—to destroy the town hall and the two inns and not a minute more. Let the Tree bring speed to your feet!”

Logan threw a glance at Tet, who nodded at him. The Symbiosis crystal growths on her black fur winked in the torchlight like a hundred diamonds. She summoned forth her most powerful boss-level mew serpent, then quickly summoned five more of the more basic cat cobras—their long tails ending in the gleaming sharp blade. Huge emerald eyes gleamed over their feline mouths, chock-full of teeth. The boss mew serpent was wreathed in shadows, plumes of curling black mist rising from its eyes. The mew serpent had long daggers instead of fangs.

“I live to serve thee, mistress,” the creature hissed, dipping its serpentine head in reverence.

“Very good, Bajjy,” Tet purred. “When we reach the surface, we’ll need you and the other mew serpents to drink a great deal from the fountain.”

Bajjy moved her great head back and forth. “This is an odd request, mistress. As a creature of Morta and Terra, I can go a long period of time without drink or sustenance.”

Tet winced. “Yes. Well. This is going to be an odd night, I fear. But do as I say.” She threw a troubled look at Logan.

He shrugged. “It’s weird, granted, but we’re going to stick to the plan.”

Logan took a moment to conjure his own motley crew of minions. He drew forth Noodle Doodle, his boss-level Blistering Death Warg, and five other Spore Wargs. Noodle was far bigger, with the black and red Blister Wart mushrooms covering his back along with some nasty chitinous spikes. If those spears didn’t get you, the terrible rash wound.

From the extra-dimensional storage space, thanks to his Ring of Pockets, he summoned the saddle he’d been working on in Professor Crucible’s class and strapped it onto Noodle. And not a moment too soon. The wooden doors creaked opened on rusty hinges. The faculty at Shadowcroft loved their sound design. Just ask Marko. He was loving his elective.

The Threshing Turtle’s weary voice returned. “Remember, dawn is in three hours, my friends. Destroy the three buildings and leave no brick standing. Serve the Tree of Souls as best you can.”

Simple stone steps led from the inner sanctum up into a cold winter’s night. Tet raced up with her mew serpents while Logan rode Noodle. They emerged on the outskirts of Vralkag.

The breath caught in Logan’s chest at the sight of the simulated village. Truly remarkable. Brick for brick, house for house, it was a perfect replica. Right down to the cobblestone streets zigzagging through the maze of buildings. If Logan didn’t know better, he would’ve thought he was standing before the real Vralkag—not merely a simulation. Even more than that, somehow, the Threshing Turtle had simulated a moon in the sky strewn by clouds that soon overtook the glowing orb. What kind of power did the Threshing Turtle hold to be able to create something like this, Logan wondered. And this is what the old tortoise could do with a cracked gem, he reminded himself.

Snow began to fall, enhancing the soft light of the medieval town’s windows and the magical fire of their streetlamps. It was peaceful scene.

Too bad that peacefulness wouldn’t last, and while Logan didn’t like the idea of raiding the town, he had no choice. Families could be seen through lead-lined windows getting ready for bed. Soldiers patrolled the streets, while people milled about in the market. They were simulated people of course, but they looked real enough to make Logan deeply uncomfortable. The shopkeepers were closing up their stalls, packing up their wares, and returning to their own homes. The richer folk lived to the east while the poorer vendors went to the south, where the two adventurer inns were.

Logan and Tet stole through the grasses. There was little light, but Tet had her Tomb Sight, and Logan had his Fungal Vision so neither needed light to see.

Silent as church mouses, they slipped around to the eastern gate, located on the far side of town, where there was a fountain in the middle of a sprawling town square. The air was cold but not cold enough to freeze the water in the stone  basin—a small miracle. With baited breath, Logan and Tet waited for a village patrol to pass, their boots clacking on the pavers as they marched. The second the cost was clear, they dispatched their minions, directing them toward the basin

Mew serpents and the spore wargs alike started gulping down water.

Creating their minions had drained a bit of Logan’s and Tet’s Apothos—especially outside of a dungeon—but their cores still brimmed with latent energy.

Logan dismounted and crept forward on foot, keeping to the shadows. He posted up outside the fountain square while Tet made sure both their monster cats and monster dogs drank every drop from the fountain.

But they were running out of time. A pair of guards in fur cloaks and rusted chainmail were headed their way.

<Tet, we have company. Pull your minions back into that alley over there.> Logan loved being able to communicate silently, especially since they were on a mission of absolute stealth.

The mew serpents slithered into the alleyway, quickly swallowed by the inky shadows.

Logan sent Noodle and the rest of his pack into an adjacent alleyway. The fungal pups seemed to vanish in the gloom. Logan dropped low and took off at a run, darting across another street. The clank of metal armor and was closer now. He triggered his Pneumacity ability and jumped, a feeling of weightless invaded his body. He drove a thick-toed foot into the wall, and effortlessly parkoured his way up the building—leaping on a windowsill, catching hold of a shutter, until he was perched on a sloped roof.

The guards passed by below, never bothering to look up. Guards never bothered checking the rooftops, which is why they were the haunt of thieves and cutthroats.

Logan took a second to enjoy night, the quiet fall of snowflakes, the wet smell of the street, the still air. He marveled at how me must look standing there, sort of like Batman–a capped mushroom crusader, ready to bring the sow chaos among the corrupt of the city. It would be simulated chaos, but he found himself looking forward to it in a strange way. No actual humans would be hurt no matter what he did, but he wanted to show Professor Zantho that he could achieve his objectives without murdering civilians. Also, like Batman.

Logan watched the guards take a turn around the eastern fountain square. They disappeared down the street where they’d come.

<Waiting on your word,> Tet sent, cloaked in shadow.

<Just waiting for the guards to get a little farther away.>

From his vantage point, Logan could see the guild hall’s lights as well as the two taverns farther south. It was clear that Professor Zantho had set up the dungeoneers there, and they would be ready for an attack. Zantho hadn’t sent the civilians to inhabit those positions like he’d thought, but the professor had still underestimated him. Logan rubbed his big hands together. He had the urge to mwa-ha-ha like a supervillain but kept quiet.

The guards turned a corner. Logan leapt from the top of the rambling house and drifted lightly to the ground. He let his Eyelash Stinkhorn spores drop from his gills. The spores mixed with the snow and he waved his hands dramatically, sending them into the cracks under doors and through the imperfect windows. Already, he could sense the stink of the fungi, which to him smelled a bit pungent but rather pleasant in its way. An earthy aroma.

With a thought, Logan sent Noodle and his pack of spore wargs through the town, lifting their legs over doors and splashing every corner with a stench of their own. Even to Logan, it was rank.

Logan contacted Tet. <Spores going out and my dogs are on their rounds.>

The cat woman didn’t bother to conceal her grumble. <I have my mew serpents…> she faltered for a moment.<Doing their business against doorways and windows. The smell is very unpleasant.> Then she let out a groan. <This is completely disgusting.>

Logan couldn’t help but laugh. <Yep, which is why it’s going to be so effective.>

He felt powerful as he walked through the town, spreading his Eyelash Stinkhorn far and wide, then throwing out his Rapid Growth to get his mushrooms creeping around windows and sprouting on the other side of doors. Not a minute later, people started shouting.

“Dear gods, Wallace!” someone shouted in a nearby house. “Who farted! It’s unbearable. You should seek medical help!”

“What is that ungodly smell?” Came another voice from another house.

Soon there were chorus of disgust ringing out in the night.

He met up with Tet at the grand mansion south of the fountain. In real life, this was where the mayor lived. In the simulation, Logan could only assume it was the acting guild master.

Tet flung a bolt of green energy—her Cryptonic Missile—into the house and destroyed not just a window but a good chunk of frame around it. Then she raised her dark paws. A cloud of black scarabs came sweeping out of her hands and into the house. Those scarabs immediately began to chew on the timbers and load-bearing beams.

That was when Tet let out a scream of pure feline evil. “Doom has come to Vralkag! All must leave or suffer the consequences! Flee or die! Flee or die!”

“Oh, gods the smell!” someone screamed from a nearby house. “Save us from the smell!”

“That is the smell of your doom!” Tet shrieked. “The doom that came to Vralkag!”

The sound of the scarabs chewing up the house was nearly deafening. A big woman in a nightgown and night cap came rushing out holding a baby and trailing a few older kids. She let out a yell. “Dammit, Rosencrantz, you promised the monsters would only try to destroy the guild hall, not our house!”

<So we’re up against Rosencrantz,> Logan sent. <Well, at least we’re familiar with his general skillset.> Logan grabbed ahold of Tet’s arm, and pulled her down an alleyway. Seconds later the grand mansion came crashing down.

Tet was a bit more concerned than that. <Since you and I are working together, I would imagine that Professor Zantho will change things up a bit.>

<I’m sure she will,> Logan replied. <But how do you prepare for an attack like ours? This is going to break whatever plan she set in motion for us. Come on, let’s get a look at the chaos.>

He triggered his Pneumacity ability once more, leaping from wall to wall, until he was standing on the eves of a house where people streamed out the front door.

Tet had her Feline Agility, and she had parkour moves of her. Soon both were standing on the slanted wooden shingles, staring down with smug smiles at their handiwork. The snow continued to fall, so it was a bit slippery, but Tet had her claws to keep her steady. Logan felt his big floppy mushroom feet slipping, so he added a couple mushroom growths, Ghoul’s Snare, to keep him rooted to the spot. It was madness down on the ground–families running madly in an attempt to escape the pervading stench. People were chattering about the Doom that Came to Vralkag—this was the power of the smelly cat! Inga wasn’t around, so Logan didn’t drop the Friends reference.

Tet had Bajjy and her mew serpents out of sight, circling through the north part of the town, so they could hit the guild hall from the west. Logan sent Noodle and his spore wargs on a southern route to join the kitties. Their plan was to hit the guild hall hard, destroy that structure, and then move down south to the two inns, the Unlikely Unicorn and the Game of Bones Inn. However, both Tet and Logan could get started on that attack with another collection of their minions. Since hitting B-Class, Logan was amazed at how many of his creatures he could summon while at the same time growing his mushrooms.

Right on schedule Sir Rosencrantz Brandybutter came trotting down flanked by Feathers, the harbinger of the Bald Phoenix as well as the Magnificent Morty Mercutio Mimsy—a light dusting of snow covered his wizard hat and robes.

Logan pointed. <Look who we flushed out.>

<Three more to the north.> Tet motioned with a clawed hand.

Herding the throng out of the eastern gate was Sir Mediocritus in his very plain armor with his very straight sword. He was working with Hallsee the Sad, who was red-faced and pale.  With them was Daggers McFinn. All looked stricken by the overpowering yuck of Logan’s Eyelash Stinkhorns and the potent litter box stink from the mew serpents. That would’ve been bad, but the spore wargs had made it even worse.

<Any sign of Arfgar?> Logan asked, squinting down at the street below.

Tet shrugged. <Not with the eyes on my guardian form, but Bajjy is at the guild hall with her the other mew serpents. The barbarian is there.>

Logan shifted his consciousness into Noodle. The world swam before his eys, and suddenly he was seeing what the mew serpents were seeing, the big barbarian in his skins and chainmail, leaning on his battle ax, standing guard at the front of the grand hall. He had thick wades of fabric shoved into his nostrils. The smell might be potent enough to drive the civilians out, but Arfgar and the rest of the Guild members weren’t going to flee no matter how rancid the stench. But that was fine. Logan had no delusions that this night would be completely violence free. Thankfully, he had no reservations about taking out dungeoneers.

Logan switched back to his guardian form. From their vantage point, they could see the back of the guild hall. The windows were dark and empty. Perfect. Too perfect.

<That’s obviously a trap,> Tet sent.

<We’ll see,> Logan replied. <But we better hit it fast. Brandybutter and the other guild members are going to realize this has all been a ruse.>

Tet’s eyes flashed a noxious green color. She opened the palm of her hand and there was a one of her scarabs. <Well, we better give them something else to play with then. Let’s get to the ground, and we can summon our next round of warriors.>

Tet slipped noiselessly to the ground.

Logan drifted down. In the alley, they made their next batch of minions. The fun was only just beginning…