Chương 101: Chapter 96: Back Underground

LANCE sighed at the stack of paperwork on his desk. Somehow, the world was in danger of being consumed by an inter-galactic Horror, and here he was, signing off on orders, forms, and requisition forms... In all honesty, he couldn't actually complain. Although the stack of papers was tedious, each form helped either him, his denominational-approved island, or the Planetary Defense Council.

Plus, he was only dealing with the forms that involved him; Penn Vic was the one dealing with the endless forms that revolved around everything else. He looked out the window and sighed. It had been nearly two and a half months since his father and forced their departure from The Grotto. In that time, Outlet had petitioned his father — successfully — to build a fleet of devices capable of monitoring the outermost realms of the planet.

Although he had all his best men working around the clock to finish the devices, all the while, Penn Vic and Frank worked closely with the best magical academics in the world, time was against them; every day, at least one, if not three or five, meteorite monsters fell to the world.

Although the Council spent a lot of resources in training up warriors and mercenaries to intercept and defeat the monsters where they landed, at times, there was no choice but to send a member of Frank's 'core team,' as he had taken to calling them and every time that happened, it took precious hours away from everyone's respective duties while making Horn feels less than adequate for not being able to handle the challenge himself. No good!

As if that wasn't enough, while Lance was trying his best to arrange more joint training exercises with the dragonkin, the Cannabusian leadership decided now was the time to forge deeper connections with his island-turned-settlement and wanted his signature on more proposals than he could read in a day. Many of the proposals he could sign off on without hardly a thought: 'Is it okay to give you this literal boatload of supplies?' Yes!

'Would you mind taking in these reanimated cadavers for re-acclimation training?' whatever that was... no! Lance tried to keep his island in good standing with the denomination, so for every bit of aid he accepted, he made sure to perform a service to the church's leadership. Which meant taking in reformed prisoners, cultists, others, as well as raising certain animals to be used in battle and church services. As long as he had the room and resources on the island to do something, he would do it...

within reason and excluding zombie training. And yet, it was exhuasting. Utterly draining, day in, day out. Especially when all Lance craved was the call of battle. So, when he received Frank's message telling them to re-assemble at the Oldest Complex, and that a transportation portal would be waiting to take them inside, he slapped his pen to the table and told the desk he would return later. He let the island's leadership know of his departure.

Lance was about to tell the Holy Slime King the same, and for him to stay on the lookout for enemies, when he thought better of it: "Hey, Slimy, want to come along? I'm heading to the Oldest Complex to fight some super-strong baddies. Want in or is the thrill of constant, unending patrol more than enough to give you peace?" A singing song ripped through Lance's head.

"I will happily join you, Master Lance! Thank the Gods! It was so tedious moving from one end of the island to the next!"

"I imagine. I don't reckon you saw much action once I left you behind, eh? Sorry about that... one thing led to another and before I knew it, I had no free time left or there was always something on my plate." He looked at the large Slime and then the portal.

"I will need you on your best, though. The monsters in the Complex are way stronger than the bandits you melted with your acid."

"Worry no more, Master." Bubbles within Slimy shifted from side-to-side.

"I have been training myself every day to shoot harder and be better!" If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

"Good to hear. Well, then... follow me!" Together, he and the Slime stepped through the portal. They ended up inside the Oldest Complex instead of making a stop at Headquarters like he had thought. Oh well. No biggie. He met Frank in one of the buildings erected inside an overflow room.

"Lance... and this must be the Slime you converted. How unusual. I am fine with it joining us for battle but be aware that Headquarters will not take responsibility for any slain familiars." Lance waved the man off and smiled.

"Yeah, yeah. I know." As the minutes ticked on, the others joined them. Lance observed the room in the newly built building. Clean, made of cheap materials, thin walls. Exactly like he and dad's first place before they built their own home. It depressed him. Once everyone had entered the room, Frank began the meeting.

"Thank you for coming everyone. Let me get right to the point. Our world is in danger. Although our respective efforts have resulted in something like a monitoring system being set in place —- big thanks to Outlet and his father for that — there is still much to do. The Horror will be upon us in a matter of months, if not sooner.

Warhol, who was going to be our first and last line of defense, is drunk with power from a strange artifact and has been incommunicado since granting the team the Holy Relic he called a 'System Modification Tool.' Since then, our team has grown immensely. But I do not think this growth will be enough to stop the Horror. Not without astonishing gains. Which is why I have called us to the Oldest Complex." Frank took a breath and paused before continuing.

"Warhol believed this structure to be capable of holding a power which could stand up to the Horror. He obviously... got distracted before such a hypothesis could be proven. I, however, still believe the Complex holds the key to defeating the Horror. That is why we are going to be working around the clock. We're going to fight monsters, level up, assign Boon Points, and keep going until we reach the deepest part of this complex. Does anyone have any objections?" No one raised a hand or even coughed. Frank smiled.

"That is what I like to see. Don't worry about supplies. I've arranged for an entire caravan to follow us as we move into the deepest parts of the Complex. That caravan will lead all the way back to the secure zones. The caravan, then, will act both as a supply chain but also as a scientific expedition. Our duties are twofold. When you assign Boon Points, then, be sure to give a few to Stamina, okay?" It was an ambitious plan. Lance liked it. Penn Vic was led to the new control room she would have total sway over.

She was to lead the logistics of the mission and appeared ready for the assignment, which led him to believe that Frank had been training her for this role long before any of them knew about it.

"To reach the deepest explored part of the complex, courtesy of Warhol when he hadn't yet gone insane, no offense, Lance, we will need to use this bookmark portal I had the pleasure of forming. One at a time, let's go!" Frank ushered them along through the portal.

Lance entered last; but like the other times he used a portal, he felt a chilling, purifying, even, sensation wash over him for but a minute before in the blink of an eye he was through and in a tunnel which culminated in a sealed doorway bound in arcane runes.

"Normally," Frank said.

"A mana lock like this would take us eons to ply and open. Due to the boys in R&D and the fruits of fusion magic, we've discovered that an engine powered by Celestial Magic, Neon Magic, and Cosmic Magic, has a hidden multiplier upon it. That means once our eggheads found a way to generate lots of that magic through the means of an external aid — say, this engine, before me -- we no longer need the Omni-Wizard to open these locks. Praise be to the God of Science!" Lance took a gander at the machine.

It looked similar to what his dad had described as capable of being made from a species of aliens he once met and told him about called the Neons. Did Frank know of their existence, too? Did Frank ask for their help in designing this engine? He had to admit, it looked far beyond anything human researchers could come up with; then again, development of new technologies had grown exponentially in the short time since Fusion Magic was discovered.

Honestly, who knew, who cared — they had something that could open mana locks only his dad was capable of opening. No need to lick a gift horse in the mouth. Frank pulled the 'mana engine's' cord and felt a tremendous amount of mana fill the cavernous tunnel. Frank directed the energies toward the door using his own body as the conduit. Slowly, the many runes and glyphs on the gateway filled with light.

"We will take turns being the conduit," Frank told them.

"Why is because playing the conduit allows for an impressive amount of energy to pass through you which refresh you, mind and body. We're going to be down here so long doing this, we'll need every chance to refresh ourselves that we can get." It only took minutes for the engine to satisfy the mana lock. The circular door rumbled into the ground and allowed them entryway to a room filled with bones...