A Dungeon’s Survival

Fable

My eyes narrowed, and my first tightened around my staff as I peaked my head around the corner. It just had to be the Onikuma of all things. Any question about Sir Gyle's involvement dissolved the moment I laid my eyes on it.

With the magic he had in place, it would've been outright impossible for him not to know it was here. That didn't matter much in the moment, though. With what my ring was showing me, it was clear I had more pressing concerns.

[Onikuma

Level: 42

Health: 770 (880)

Stamina: 900 (1,035)

Mana: 80 (90)

Title: The King of the Forest

Stats: FORT 154 (176), VIT 56 (64), STR 180 (207), END 171 (196), SOUL 8 (9), MIND 28 (32), WILL 8 (9), COM 124 (142), DEX 20 (23), AGI 20 (23)

Skills: Brawling, Tracking, Intimidation, Evasion, Tactics, Spell Casting, Combat Analysis, Misdirection, Stealth

Abilities: Tough Hide, Empowered Bite, Brawling Proficiency, Intimidation Proficiency, Tracking Proficiency, Blood Magic, Tactics Proficiency, Vital Magic, Dark Rend

Description: A bipedal bear monster that is as resourceful as it is ruthless and territorial. These ancient beasts use their own life force as fuel to power their destructive magic.]

It wasn't the strongest thing I'd ever fought in my career as an adventurer. It wasn't even the strongest thing I'd ever killed by myself. It was, however, the strongest monster I'd ever been forced to face fully on my own, without any contingencies in place, people to bail me out in case of the worst, or even the barest minimum of proper, confirmed intel to work with in advance. Add in the fact that my resources were heavily diminished, and the severity of the situation spoke for itself. This wasn't an encounter I could allow to drag out for long.

Sucking in a sharp breath of air, I wasted no time in falling back on my training. Mages had many shortcomings. With few exceptions, we tired easily, were frail to the point of being a liability, were unreliable once a fight began to drag on, and, worst of all, were dead the moment we engaged in close-range combat.

Despite all of that, however, there was a reason magic classes were widely considered to be the strongest. After all, who needed to endure prolonged combat when one could instead end things in an instant? Why worry about melee combat when a person could vaporize their enemies long before they ever had a chance to close the distance? And what point was there in defense for a person who never intended to get hit in the first place? Reality wasn't as clean cut as all of that, and I didn't buy into mages being unstoppable as much as some people, such as Ivan, did. Still, though, those sentiments held a degree of undeniable truth to them, and that truth was the basis in which artillery magic was built upon.

Overcharged Electrocution.

It was the strongest spell I knew, something that was akin to a family heirloom. Like other examples of artillery magic, it served to answer a single question: with a dedicated mage's entire mana pool to work with, what would be the most destructive effect one could evoke? Unlike most other forms of artillery magic, however, it wasn't designed to halt armies in their tracks or to leave as many bodies in its wake as was physically possible. Instead, it was a mage's ultimate assassination tool, but it wasn't without downsides.

I pressed my back against the cave wall, out of sight of the bear as I began to dump mana into my magic. Nearly half of my remaining power, I poured it into my staff with no hesitation. Then, with the base cost paid, I continued, overcharging it.

I couldn't afford to waste everything I had here. If it dodged or otherwise survived somehow, I would be left at the creature's mercy, and even if I did kill it, should Gyle show his face or the three monsters I could still sense above me make an appearance, it would likely mean my end. Still, taking the Onikuma down in a single blast of magic was my best chance, so with the seconds ticking by all the while, I charged my spell until I was confident it could fry even that oversized mass of fur and muscle. Then, leaping out at it, I unleashed it.

At the same time, its minuscule pool of mana surged back to the vast well of power I'd first sensed it to be. A moment later, light and dark met, electricity and what I was only half sure to be void magic. Sparks flew. Stone cracked, and I found myself tumbling back down the path to the next room as I convulsed in pain. Worst of all, I received no kill notification.

* * *

The King of the Forest

I wasn't surprised to have found my way to this den of power after chasing that thing down. The fact that the basin it dropped on my head perfectly matched the one this place had gifted to me didn't escape my notice. Neither did the mortal who was hiding around the corner or more distant stench of undeath. Letting this place persist had been a mistake, one in which it wasn't my first time making. It was time to rectify that.

Slowly, step by step, I made my way over to the tunnel that hadn't existed the last time I was here. It seemed to be the new way forward, the hole in the ceiling no longer calling to me like it once had. I began to growl slightly as I made my way there, my spell ready to activate at a moment's notice. Then, as I neared it, the woman reappeared, staff in hand. I didn't hesitate.

Roar of Destruction!

Darkness erupted from my jaws at the same time as lightning sprung from the staff. It was bright enough to blind me, and a moment later, I recoiled. It hurt.

“Grawh!” my magically empowered roar immediately shifted into one of pain.

It burned. The scent of scorched fur immediately flooded my nostrils, depriving me of another important sense. My legs gave out, and I thudded into the ground with my full weight.

Was this the core's plan? I wondered briefly as my head spun, Did it intend to have this woman do away with me?

That conclusion only served to fuel my rage. Again! It was happening again!

I was sick of these beings who thought themselves above the natural order. They were all the same: intruding into my domain, upheaving the balance of the forest, and never getting their own hands dirty. Be it the undead, creatures of their own creation, this mortal, or even the corpse of my old rival, they always forced others to do their bidding instead of standing on their own. I was sick of it!

Magical Recovery, I activated the only spell I ever used my actual mana for.

My pitiful magic reserves vanished in a matter of moments as the burden on my body lessened marginally. I felt another wave of dizziness as my mana reached zero, but I pushed through it, the world coming back into focus as I began picking myself back up. As it did, I could make out the sight of the woman mirroring my own actions.

There, she was, slumped over and using her magical stick to support herself. The signs of her injuries were vanishing by the second. She looked to be in bad shape, not that I was in much better myself.

Were it not for the magic-disrupting aspect of my spell, I would've died on the spot. Even with it, I narrowly avoided such a fate. She, on the other hand, had only been hit by my roar and the little electricity that sparked back her way as my magic passed through hers. For a normal mage, that might've been enough, but it was clear, she was nowhere near so average. I needed to finish her off before this could drag on.

Roar of Destruction!

Hastily, I payed the steep cost to my health to fire off another blast of destructive might. I felt myself stumble as I did. It would be the last spell I cast for a while. I was going to need to retreat after this. It would take a full day at minimum to replenish my health through the use of Magical Recovery alone. That was if I managed to retreat, that is.

“Energy Barrier!” my opponent called out as I unleashed the attack.

Dark magic collided with the translucent magical shield that appeared before her, and immediately cracks spread throughout it. By the time my attack subsided, it looked as though a faint breeze would be enough to finish the job, but it held. That wasn't good.

It'd been a long time since I'd found myself so near to death, yet until this woman was dead, I dared not to retreat. I was going to have to end this quickly, before she could pull out any more magic of her own. I'd do so; then, I'd return for the core another day.

* * *

Fable

It was both a blessing and a curse that I'd been so low on mana. Had I charged my spell any further, I was sure it would've killed the bear, but likely, it would've killed me as well. Instead, I'd only managed to fry myself half to death, though I attributed most of the pain I was feeling to the bear's roar. Void magic was no joke.

Heal, I cast the spell on myself, and immediately, I could feel my mana drop dangerously low.

So long as I didn't overcharge it, I'd still had enough mana leftover for one more Overcharged Electrocution, though just barely. I traded that away for physical relief without a second thought. Artillery magic was useless if I couldn't pick myself up enough to use it. A moment later, I dumped another couple hundred points of mana into an Energy Barrier as I sensed the bear's unusual power flare to life once more.

Despite my body feeling like it was cooked well done, I forced it to move as I just barely blocked the incoming attack. I now had under two hundred mana remaining, but somehow, the bear looked worse for wear. I was sure I could bring it down with a well-placed spell, but all it would've taken is another roar from it for it to drag me to the afterlife with it or, perhaps, without it. If it could dispel my magic, there was every chance it could still survive, after all.

“Two hundred seven strength,” I muttered to myself, “one hundred ninety-six endurance, one hundred forty-two composure …”

A single hit from the thing would kill me. At the same time, I wasn't anywhere near strong enough to scratch it through physical means, not even if I had a proper melee weapon, and that was to say nothing of its Tough Hide ability. The only way I was finishing this thing off was through magic, and with its COM being as high as it was, I knew I only had enough mana left for one shot. Fortunately for me, there just so happened to be one way I could ensure that shot went off without a hitch.

“And,” I finished reciting its stats, “twenty-three agility.”

That was it. I had more than twice that. Some mages, such as Ivan, bought into the artillery mage mentality in full. I wasn't like that, however. I was an adventurer, and I knew what real danger was.

Maybe dumping every point you got into your soul stat worked for nobles who never saw real battle outside of an army versus army scenario, one in which mages stepped onto a battlefield, fired off a spell or two, and promptly left, but for an adventurer, that was a quick way to get yourself killed. The only stat I'd completely ignored was my strength, and even then, I'd still invested a couple of points into it.

By no means was I strong enough to keep up with anything my level that specialized in melee combat, but I did have enough FORT, END, and COM to take a hit if I had to. I also had the DEX and AGI to dodge most traps and ranged attacks, having spread my stats much more evenly than most magic users did. Most of that didn't matter usually, but when it did, it was always enough to make me grateful that I'd taken my great-grandfather's advice.

As for here, it was how I was still going to win. It didn't matter how hard my injuries were going to make it. I was going to survive until I found the perfect opportunity to pump every last drop of magic I had into this thing in the form of pure, unyielding electricity.