Chương 157

-0-0-0-0-0- Crusader Flagship The Gods' Will, Coast of Port Laviet, The Kalenic Sea -0-0-0-0-0- Haliet stood upon the flagship's forecastle, staring out into the wide, open ocean. Around them, nearly a thousand ships had gathered, answering the call of the gods. Though not the largest crusade ever launched, it was definitely the strongest. They had more heroes and templars than any crusade before, as well as almost a thousand guilders and almost five hundred and fifty thousand men.

Though all those men were mortal, lacking a core and good for little more than cannon fodder, there was something to be said for putting a wall of fanatical zealots between you and your enemies. Most of the fleet could barely hold 500 men at full capacity because they were smaller and less well-armed. The Gods' Will, as well as the other hundred or so ships taken from the former Phenocial Western and Eastern fleets, had much more capacity.

They more than made up the difference in both men and guns, which would definitely be necessary in the coming days and weeks. With a nod to the captain, which was acknowledged with a solemn nod of his own, the captain of The Gods' Will signalled a crewman. That man turned to the enormous horn affixed to the stern of the ship, and let out three long, trumpeting calls. Each blow of the horn lasted five seconds exactly, and as the last note faded, the ship's sails unfurled and caught the strong breeze.

As expected, the wind was favourable, putting them on a direct course to Atlantis. Like a wave, all the ships behind them unfurled their sails in sequence, with The Gods Will leading the formation. Smaller, faster ships would eventually pull ahead, letting the large warship fall back into a more central position, but for now, it was the symbolism that mattered. The Crusade was launched. None could stop it now.

Haliet strode across the rocking deck of the ship with ease and descended to the quarters reserved for the Templar and Heroes. Most were gathered in the communal area, as space restrictions limited the rooms to beds and a personal cupboard for the occupant's equipment. The idle chatter quieted as Haliet entered and took a seat, all eyes drawn to him.

"So it's done, then," Gregg intoned solemnly. Not a question, merely an affirmation. They'd all heard the horn, even above the noise-dampening enchantments upon these quarters.

"It is," Haliet confirmed.

"We'll arrive at Atlantis in two days. Though it's normally a three-day journey from here, the gods favour us, and the wind hurries us along."

"Splendid!" Ranilla enthused, clapping his hands together. The man's strength was evident in how the noise produced rattled the windows.

"We'll get this whole thing sorted in a week or so, and be back home before you know it!" Artic scoffed at the unarmoured man's words.

"I suppose you never read the intelligence reports?" She replied Icily.

"This will be a true test of our abilities, if everything is true. The floors are intelligently designed, filled with monsters and manabeings perfectly suited to, and capable of taking advantage of, their environments."

"Bah!" Ranilla waved off the increasingly irate woman.

"You worry too much. We are the most powerful people in the world! dungeons haven't stopped us before, and they won't stop us now." Before Artic could answer, something cutting no doubt, Haliet interrupted.

"Artic is correct. The Creator, or whatever it calls itself, is intelligent. Whether it is a human master that controls the dungeon, or the dungeon itself, doesn't matter. It has crafted its floors with the express purpose of bleeding any attackers, and made it even more difficult and lethal for those that wish to destroy the core. Our own scouting party never reported in after their first letter. We can only assume they misjudged the defences. Our spy has likewise not reported any new information.

She is either dead or embedded deeply enough that she judges it too risky to report in."

"So what should we expect?" One of the heroes, James, spoke up. The dark-skinned man's eyes glittered with intelligence.

"During the Bahrain invasion, before making landfall, they encountered a storm and three different sea monsters," Haliet lectured.

"An enormous whale, capable of swallowing ships. A sea serpent large enough to wrap around a ship multiple times, and snap its spine like a twig. An octopus that would pick sailers and guilders off their ships, to swallow down it's toothed maw. On the beach, they faced resistance by the defending guilders, monsters and, in particular, a 'flying lizard that breathed ice'."

"Aside from the head and tail, did the flying lizard have six limbs or four?" Another hero, one normally silent, asked. Haliet frowned in thought, recalling the information. Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

"Four," he answered with certainty.

"Two wings and two back legs. Why?" At his words, the heroes all... shifted in place. Their faces twisted in some strange combination of relief and dread.

"Do you know something of this creature?"

"It's called a Wyvern, part of a group of mythological monsters called Dragons," James answered, factually.

"Dangerous, hard to ground. We'll have to be cautious, they're powerful creatures." -0-0-0-0-0- The Creator, Atlantis, The Kalenic Sea -0-0-0-0-0- I saw the guilder's coming from miles away, thanks to seagulls scouting near the 5-mile border of my influence. The fleet was truly immense, larger even than the Bahrainian invasion. Not that that was a surprise. Bahrain were, by all accounts, a fading power, relying more on threats to keep its conquered territories in line than anything else.

As soon as that threat was proven unenforceable, they broke apart. But this... The crusaders had united their entire continent in their zealotry, given the incredible range of heraldry on display. But it didn't matter how big their fleet was. They'd fail all the same. If they lost, then both of the biggest superpowers on the planet would have broken like waves upon my cliffs, while I remained unbowed. If they won, well, they'd all die anyway.

They were in a lose-lose situation, whether they knew it or not, but I had no illusions they'd call it off even if they accepted that truth. You can't reason with zealots. They're inherently unreasonable, narrow-minded, and stubborn. When faced with evidence that their belief system is wrong or flawed, they double down, claiming the evidence is fabricated or lies. Honestly, there was a remarkable parallel to modern Earth's Flat Earth society, but that's neither here nor there.

The only people in the crusade I could even hope to influence away from my destruction, and therefore their destruction, were the summoned heroes. I was hopeful that they wouldn't have bought into the temple's rhetoric, but I wouldn't know until I could get in contact with them. On a larger scale, the bulk of their forces were regular people; easily killed, and hopefully cowardly enough to leave when it looked like they'd lose.

As the fleet drew closer, I brought Sídhe and the Water Spirit to the surface to whip up a storm. The clouds spread rapidly, swirling out from Atlantis like a cancerous mass towards the crusaders. Meanwhile, under the surface of the ocean, my Sea Monsters went to work. They'd gotten a fair amount of attention from me, since I gained the ability to split my attention, and were ready to do some damage. Speaking of, as I directed the manabeings, I had a single note placed on the manse's throne.

The Child brought to the surface for exactly that purpose was quickly evacuated, leaving the port silent and deserted, but for the creaking of timbers and the whistle of wind through the streets as the storm picked up force. On my first floor, the crabs had started working themselves into a frenzy. I'd had to expand their living space twice, since they'd managed to breed so quickly in the last month that it'd been standing room only for a while there.

The Second was also full, given the lack of any real delving in that same period. The fish filled every flooded hallway, and the breeding chambers, and the tunnels between the rooms and hallways were in constant use. The Third buzzed with tens of thousands of insects going about their business, roared with hundreds of Chromatic Tigers skulking through the undergrowth, and sang the throaty trills of thousands of Phoenix flitting about the canopy. The Fourth was a hive or charged energy.

I'd forbidden infighting for the last month, so the Ratten had managed to build up some decent numbers. I'd also needed to expand the hidden chambers for each clan to fit them all, of course. The Fifth was as silent as the grave, though all its denizens preferred it that way. The Fungal Hiveminds were prepared to overwhelm anyone who entered the floor, while the manabeings did their best to disguise themselves among the decorations and shadowed corners.

If the humans reached this far, I'd permit them to retreat to the lower floors, where they'd be of more use. The Poison and Shadow Ratten on the Fifth had been steeping in their swampy dungeons and sewers, and it was now, truly, a poison swamp. The Sixth had turned up the heat and even produced a mini-boss. I'd elected to turn off the tides, leaving the floor almost entirely flooded with lava at all times.

The crusaders would have to figure out their own ways to navigate between the islands of 'relative' safety as lava-adapted monsters, Hellbats and manabeings alike assaulted them. The Seventh had been turned over entirely to the Ants, who'd been allowed to spread throughout the existing tunnels even as they dug more, and deeper. Their queens, in the deepest chambers, were constantly laying eggs that, thanks to the new evolution system, were capable of getting combat-ready far more quickly than before.

The Eighth had turned icy, and I was ready to unleash a near-constant snowstorm to sweep the peaks if they got this far. The only exceptions would be the tips of the peaks, where even now the mountain-goat beastborn sat meditating, the crazy woman. Pyry and her mate were on the surface, helping direct the storm, but their kids were having fun messing with the snowstorm on their native floor. The wildlife hunkered down, the food chain suspended until further notice.

If they reached the desert on the Ninth, they'd be in constant daylight. There would be no relief from the blazing heat, dehydrating them, all to make the illusions more effective, and draw them deeper into the dunes. The Pyramid was now fully covered. The only way to reach it would be to remove the sand or discover the secret tunnel from the Scorpan Village. The Tenth... all that remained there was an army of bunnies and an empty village.

This floor was less lethal, intentionally, because I was trying to lure the guilders out of their murderhobo behaviour. That also meant it would be less lethal for the crusaders. I'd have to up the ante if the crusaders looked like they'd reach it. -0-0-0-0-0-