Chương 13: Chapter 12

Corin plunged into the lava head-first, and immediately discovered two things: he was completely immune to the immense fire damage, and completely not-immune to suffocation. The force of entry had shot him deep down below the surface, and swimming through lava proved a remarkably ineffectual endeavor. It dawned on him that he would suffocate before he even reached the surface, and regardless, he wasn't entirely sure of where the surface was, as lava was not particularly transparent.

Thus, he half-swam, half-flailed, keenly aware that if he didn't suffocate first then his fire resistance could run out all the same. He smashed his hand onto a rocky surface, then desperately felt at it and grabbed it, dragging himself through some kind of underground tunnel as the last of his breath ran out. He thrust himself forwards and broke the surface of lava, spitting out lava - actual lava - then taking in perhaps the best breath of his life.

He dragged himself onto the obsidian rock, looking around in equal parts relief, confusion, and exhaustion. Where the fuck am I? Taking an unsteady step upwards, he looked around the dark cave, a flickering, ominous glow caused by the surrounding lava. Something glimmered in the distance, and he took a few uncertain steps towards it. Finally, it registered: [Epic Chest (locked)] Contains an {Epic} item! Holy shit-fuck. An epic chest contained, as one might expect, epic loot.

Epic loot had the potent potential of paying off his debt entirely as an afterthought, though with it being locked, there was likely only one thing that contained a key. A boss. This assumption was soon proven true, as something cried out in the cave, the echo alone carrying enough force to knock him down. [Ember Sentinel - Lv. 63 {Epic}] HP:??? Threat: Catastrophic It took two steps towards him, and he took two steps backwards. Those steps were not equal. His steps, human steps, covered about a meter and a half.

The sentinel's two steps, now, those covered ten. There was a definite step-disparity, a disparity Corin suspected would remain true in many other ways. All he could do was run. That would be the correct, and just about only, decision he could possibly make. Instead, he made direct eye contact with something attached to it at the waist: a gold key. His body acted before his mind could react.

He dove toward the sentinel as its massive, burning blade came down, rolling under the slash and through the gap between its enormous legs as it split the ground behind him. He rolled upwards and spied his quarry: the key, jangling violently, soon disappearing from vision as the sentinel lumbered around. It twisted towards him, sending a burst of flame from its helmet directly at Corin. The blast hit him hard enough to send him careening backwards, slamming him into the nearby wall and winding him.

It continued as the sentinel stepped toward him, and Corin felt almost pinned against the wall. Eventually he summoned the strength to peel himself off it, rolling out of the flame just as its massive blade slashed horizontally toward him, perfectly positioned to cut him in half at the waist. He leapt over it just in time, the momentum of force and wind half-rotating him and slamming him back onto the ground, the back of his head cracking against hard rock.

He cast his heal right after impact, the gaping wound on his forehead subsiding somewhat, and pushed himself upright just as the sentinel readied another swing. Once more, he leapt forward as the sword crashed through the rock ceiling and embedded itself in obsidian, mere inches from his supple, ordinarily-flammable flesh. The sentinel pulled the sword back but found it stuck, taking a half step forward to work the blade free.

Corin took the opportunity to leap toward it, Tethering onto what amounted to the sentinel's kneecap and grabbing hold. He scrambled up just as it rose, its open kneecap snapping shut, almost taking his foot with it. He climbed its leg as the sentinel's flames lapped around him, and saw its massive hand coming for him as if he were nothing but an annoying mosquito - fairly enough, as they had about an equal chance of taking this thing down.

He leapt off just as the hand slammed into its own metallic thigh, sending a reverberating shudder of crashing metal echoing across the cave. Corin flew, catching sight of the key as he plummeted toward the ground. [Tether cast!] He tethered directly onto the key, hoping to rip it right off the sentinel. Instead he swung from it, hurtling through the air in a surprisingly graceful arc, until he wrapped around and slammed face-first into the other side of its waist.

Another hand came at him as he yanked the Tether again, just managing to fling himself clear of the strike, metal ringing loud enough to rattle his brain. Thus he found himself faced with the gold key, its bow looped through a ring of the same metal the sentinel was made from, something impossibly hard - and yet he still had to remove it. He had a sudden idea: his Bag of Holding. He removed his bag - heretofore stuffed into his underwear - and quickly opened it toward the key, urging it, mentally, to just go in.

[Error: Cannot insert items attached to creatures] Fuck fuck fuck fuck f- This string of expletives was accompanied by him grabbing his copper hammer and jamming its single remaining spike into the hole at the key's base, the part fused to the sentinel, twisting and pulling as hard as he could as he did so.

He saw the metal of the hammer begin to deform on contact, the heat from the burning sentinel more than enough to melt copper - but also saw the key crack, and at the same time, a hand larger than his entire body fast closing in. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

He shot a Tether to the ground and pulled, the golden key snapping free at last just as the metal hand slammed into the sentinel's own body, sending out another deafening crash of metal, the sound rolling through the cave like thunder. Corin hit the ground hard, landing shoulder-first, and saw in brief delight that the key - what remained of it, at least - was still attached to his hammer.

The sentinel did not seem pleased by this development, driving its sword downward just as Corin rolled, the blade piercing rock and, fortunately, not-Corin. He pushed himself up and scrambled toward the chest, Tethering once more as he neared it, pulling himself forward just as another shot of flame burst him ahead, the combined force sending him slamming into the chest and subsequently rolling roughly with it.

Dazed, Corin immediately jammed what remained of the key - the shaft gone, but the teeth mercifully still intact - into the chest's lock. The lock gave at once, revealing a single, glimmering item: [Blade of Eternal Fury {Epic}] Corin grabbed it and turned to face the sentinel.

"Time for a real fight," Corin said, gripping the sword with both hands, then felt something not entirely his own settle into his grip, hot and eager, whispering that yes, a real fight was exactly what it needed. [Blade of Eternal Fury minimum strength requirement: 50]" Oh," Corin continued, with decidedly less wanton brazenness this time, and carefully put the blade back into his bag as the sentinel stepped towards him.

Corin saw the sentinel ready its fire attack once more, then he glanced backwards towards the waiting lava, a sudden idea taking hold. Corin took a deep breath, then did a half-jump just as the torrent of flame smashed into him, the force sending him careening backward toward the waiting lava, skidding across the molten surface and hitting the wall behind before slowly sinking beneath it.

Disoriented but still vaguely cognizant, he turned at once and swam for the rock, grabbing on and pulling himself forward upside-down, arcing around the tunnel and up toward the surface. He erupted from the lava just as he felt his lungs might burst, spluttering and coughing as the sharp, hot air hit him. Thereafter he scrambled up the volcano, his bloodied hands doing little to discourage his efforts, as it was far preferable to no-hands.

He crested the surface, both grateful and surprised to be alive, and then, after seeing a familiar sight flying overhead, was no longer grateful (nor, shortly, alive). He leapt forward just as the fire drake came at him, tumbling down the volcano and feeling several things fracture in the process.

His relief of escape was immediately replaced by a fresh burst of pain as he finally hit the bottom, and he used his momentum to scramble upright, half-sprinting, half-limping toward Lightning - who did not seem particularly excited at the prospect of transporting an open flame. Corin ran toward her as he felt some strange sensation again, the same one he'd felt back at the menagerie. Then, a completely different sensation hit him. This time, a much more urgent one. Burning.

Ahhh fuck it the 100% ran OUT fuck fuck fuckfuckfuckfuckufk Corin drop-rolled toward the tree as lingering bits of lava burned into his skin, closing the last few meters between them. Lightning, now keenly aware that this burning ape intended to mount it, immediately bucked and twisted, ripping the rope that tied it to the tree and turning to run.

Corin used the last of his wits to jump and Tether onto it, a brief mid-air snap from both of them ending with Corin on the horse's rear, its subsequent buck flinging him forward onto the saddle instead of off her entirely. This immensely displeased her, its skin already singeing from the heat - though it soon discovered that a slight burn was infinitely preferable to being roasted outright, as the fire drake overhead let out a cry that sent her sprinting forward with heretofore untold speed.

Thus they both bolted into the distance, harried by the drake all the while, until finally, they found respite. The Aldford gate guard was greeted by a man in nothing but his boots and underwear, accompanied by a very pissed off, very old-looking horse, and figured dealing with the problem was above his pay grade. He waved him through, hoping nobody else was watching.

Corin had not stopped the entire trip, as the time for dis-disrobement never seemed appropriate while potentially still on a fire drake's imminent hitlist. Thereafter Corin returned Lightning, another Minor Heal cast on it during the journey as some kind of wordless half-apology, half-farewell, then sat down to look at his item: [Blade of Eternal Fury {Epic}] A blade wreathed in flame that never dims and never burns its wielder. Deals continuous fire damage on contact, and grants considerable fire resistance.

The longer it remains drawn, the more Fury accumulates, granting immense strength but eroding control. Below the recommended Strength threshold, Fury builds faster and is far harder to restrain. Holy shit. This item looked immensely valuable, more than enough to pay off his debt many times over. He was stat-locked from using it effectively regardless, so that part barely mattered. So then, why did he feel so much... trepidation? He couldn't actually say.

It didn't feel like Guild trouble, or debt trouble, or any trouble he had a name for. Just trouble, something he'd have enough of to know it when he felt it. He had a feeling he'd understand why eventually. He wasn't particularly looking forward to that, either. Corin surreptitiously put the sword back into his Bag of Holding, worried it might singe the inside on the way in. If he could sell it through normal channels, he guessed he'd get around 80 gold for it, an absolutely absurd sum.

On the black market, maybe a third of that, or half if he had any real sway - though he was not, generally, a man prone to sway. That left him with the unfortunate reality of his situation: if he tried to sell it through normal means, he'd almost certainly get flagged and interrogated, and his Foresight secret would come out, after which servitude, execution, or vivisection all seemed equally likely.

Grim as that was, it might still be preferable to the black market, where describing the usual clientele as less-than-savory would be an insult to all savory goods everywhere; he'd seen the way they were looking at his Bag of Holding. He was lucky to have made it out in one piece even without an Epic weapon on him. Walk in with something worth multiple times more than the Bag, something he couldn't even use, and he'd almost certainly never walk out at all. So my problem is...

I have too much money to pay off my debt? Well... fuck me, then. Fuck. Me. Fuck everything, literally. He suddenly realized that it was an entirely new day, and he hadn't used his Foresight ability yet. A completely new Vision awaited him. With any luck, it would be something to save him from this mess.

Trying to see through his red eye and paying the painful price for it, he tried to see into the knowledge of the Turn, and finally the message revealed itself: [Aldfo~ goblin invas~ ▒ eduled] [▒ me remaining: 2 da~ 7 hours, 3 ▒] Aldford... goblin invasion.