(Clone Warrior) Chapter 45: Dungeon Core

“HEY MONSTER BUDDIES, YOUR FATHER IS A DUNG COLLECTOR.” The bait clone laughed maniacally, all the worries of death transforming into a dizzying amalgamation of frenzy and oddly ecstasy. There was no honor and respect gained from this whole endeavor, the clone would, in the grand scheme of things, go quietly into the stomachs of monsters. Then why not have the time of his very brief life doing stuff that he wouldn’t normally do.

For example, shouting obscenities at entities that can’t understand him and wouldn’t really care if they understood him, since you know, they were monsters. Bad probably flesh and blood thingies that liked to eat humans for breakfast, dinner and supper.

The clones behind him groaned collectively, and that only reinvigorated the clone to shout even more. Curses about the monsters’ short statured, their mothers being whores, their brothers dying shamefully when fleeing from a battle. Deep inside him he felt the click of a new skill, yet at the moment there was no time to check up on new skills, Alex would do that upon his death.

The dungeon had released its payload of ariel monsters, and a brief blue and yellow light flashed on the clone’s face. He was too preoccupied with the new monsters popping out to give an eye to the light show the mages had conjured up. The monsters were almost upon him, their charge forming a wall, swiftly closing in on him bearing the fangs of death.

A single breath went out and in came Last Hurraw, a quake went out from his heart, invigorating every vein and vessel in his body. His muscles bulged and time slowed. It was an infinitesimal instant in which he felt like a god, able to break whatever he wished with a flick of the finger.

Singular Focus activated, aimed at that feeling of omnipotence, keeping in stasis in his mind. It was a drug, it would make him recklessly brave, make idiotic decisions and cost him his life. That was exactly what he needed to face these monsters; the added physical power was the spice of the dish.

When he stepped on the ground with a foot, he swiveled the appendage a ninety degree turn, setting his trajectory to just scraping by the monster wall. The various monsters of the group were clashing against his armor with their long claws, yet the brief distance between him and them was small. The clone matched the speed at which the monsters advanced, keeping a constant small distance between him and the monsters, it would give them hope of catching him, an illusion since with Last Hurraw it was easy to outpace them.

It wouldn’t continue, tracing the line between life and death was not easy, and he was bound to make a mistake or get unlucky. It was only a matter of time.

The clones watched with fascination as the whole path to the dungeon cleared. A perfect sightline had opened up, and the clones didn’t dally any longer, speeding up their run to a sprint. The sounds of combat from behind them made them momentarily mournful then proud for the clone’s sacrifice.

They blasted through the bleak landscape, and no monsters disturbed them. The dungeon was on a cycle, it would spawn, wait and spawn again. Now they were in the waiting phase, and that was bad. By the time they reach the dungeon they would be in the spawning phase, and that could be incredibly dangerous with monsters spawning amongst their ranks, hitting their flanks and disturbing their formation.

A sudden blast of heat assaulted the clone’s faces, the red shine from the dungeon multiplying in its intensity. It was as if they had passed a threshold, where the heat produced by the dungeon’s lava spurts was self-contained in an area surrounding it. Their eyes instantly dried up and their lips got all the water sucked off of them. When the armor on them touched bits of their skin, it hurt like hell from the heat it captured.

The clones hoped that not every dungeon would be this hard to even get close to. He doubted the other vanquishers, even with classes, would risk their lives or willingly subject themselves to this torture for only coins and renown.

They still trudged on, with their survival instincts forgotten and death seeming so very near and far. It was not a moment later that the dungeon pulsed and created new monsters that were irritatingly not bothered by the blazing atmosphere.

“Wedge!” The commander shouted and immediately regretted it from the inhalation of the scalding air. The clones complied and stood in arrow-like formation, two on either side and the tip being manned by the oldest and most experienced of them all.

The newly spawned monsters were surprisingly disorganized and uncoordinated, yet they made for fierce resistance, using every fiber of their being and every scrap of intelligence to fight for time, and they were getting the time. But then a monster of blood and bat wings fell from the sky and screeched, grabbing the monster’s attention like a mosquito to a light.

“Super Duper spy dudes, don’t worry about these kittens, I’ve got them in my arms!” The blood demon gargled in its terrifying voice, and the clones accepted the circumstances and took the shortest route to the dungeon.

The clones stood by the feet of a giant rock. It looked far more menacing up close than it was in the outskirts of its territory. The lava dripped off its surface and collected itself in natural moat-like formation. The material it was made out of was unknown, a kind rock mental hybrid from just a glance. A clone activated Singular Focus and saw a swirl in fractal pattern chiseled on the rock, then another swirl, another swirl swirl swirl swirl-

“Snap out of it!” The clone manually closed his mouth and thanked the hot atmosphere for erasing the drool that would have definitely come out.

“What the fuck happened?”

“Don’t forget you idiot, you are looking at a fragment of a God, a child of Skorn.” His comrades all stirred into motionless commotion. “If we look too deep, it might just turn us all into its minions. Remember that we are cursed, we might be beholden to some foul sorcery.”

“And what do we do now?”

“I see it!” A clone pointed to a whole in the lava curtain that was on the dungeon. Briefly there were sparkles of gold, and then when they focused, they saw a golden globe in the midst of lava and rock. “That’s the core, I bet if we hit it hard it will stop the dungeon.”

“Hit it hard, we are such an idiot.”

“And how are we to reach it?”

“Boys, pull out your bows.” The commander smiled sadistically. “The one with the least hits will get thrown into the lava to retrieve the dungeon core fragments.”

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Take note that I had written this at 2 am and half asleep :p. Have a good day everybody. And thanks for all of the support you've given me.