Ch 134. A Bloody Mess

In the dimly lit classroom, the massive bone dragon loomed before me, its skeletal form casting eerie shadows on the arcane, gothic walls. Its fearsome visage suddenly shimmered, as if distorted by rippling water, and its bones shattered beneath my hand, detonated into a cloud of sparkling, crystalline dust that rained down on me.

As the fragments dispersed like a celestial snowfall, I glimpsed a ghostly imprint of the beast, its ethereal wings unfurling in a hauntingly beautiful display. Despite the abomination’s shell being undone, its spirit clung tenaciously to existence.

“Divide by…” I growled out, my voice echoing through the cavern as I once again armed the spell, determined to vanquish this spectral foe.

However, the phantom dragon seemed to sense my intentions, and with a speed that belied its gargantuan size, it moved like blinding lightning. It sheared effortlessly through the supposedly impenetrable ward of Nemendias and vanished into the depths of the chasm.

“Damnation,” I hissed through gritted teeth, lowering my armored hand.

“I did say that I designed him to be unkillable,” Rozaline chimed in smugly.

With a sigh, I turned my body to face the insufferable instructor. Her silhouette was outlined by the sunset shining through the windows of the Hall of History, black eyes sparkling with mild amusement, as if she had just successfully taught a particularly troublesome student a valuable lesson.

I noted that time stood still once more.

The room seemed to close in around me, as my breath came short. I didn’t manage to obliterate the creature, I had only scared it away.

“I just needed one more shot,” I ground out, “Now, tell me, are you going to persist in whatever bullshit this is, or do I need to un-concept you out of existence? Have you, perchance, another monstrous creation lurking beneath the floorboards to hurl at me? I assure you, I am ready.”

The avatar of the world laughed.

“Good show, wizardling,” she said.

“Bloody hell,” I snapped, “Are you in cahoots with Infinity or Revolution? Have you orchestrated this entire farce?”

Rozaline’s lips curling into a mysterious, enigmatic smile which only served to heighten my exasperation.

“Whatever,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I managed to chase your unkillable dragon away. What, pray tell, is the next impossible challenge you have devised for me to surmount?”

“That would be telling,” Rozaline replied.

“Are you going to stand in my way or help me?” I demanded.

“I will endeavor to kill you,” Rozaline said, radiating unnerving calmness. “Again and again, until the very fabric of the universe burns to ashes and is consumed by the void.”

“Why?” I snarled at her.

“Because that is my narrative,” she said. “I simply… must uphold my narrative, my little hero.”

As the words left her lips, the world around us shifted. Colors blossomed once more, infusing the bleak room with shades of vivid, enchanting hues. The cold, lifeless air became replaced by a warm, invigorating breeze carrying the scent of distant meadows and waterfalls endlessly cascading into the depths of the Infinite Dungeon.

The dragon bones looming over the room were gone. Rozaline stood, staring out the gothic windows at the endless chasm, admiring herself no doubt.

I huffed at her and departed.

I had other things to do.

Attacking or demanding things from the stubborn avatar of the planet I was on seemed about as useful as yelling at the sky.

I was feeling tired, my topaz-afflicted body ached. My mission for my master was nearly done. Saccy was filled with the bodies of the previous owners of various Undertown establishments. Ten Guilds of Undertown now answered to me, the new Baroness of this forsaken place. I contemplated whether the unwashed masses of human filth down here would be enough to please my master, enough to give the dracolich new strength.

Baroness Amadea ordered her maids around as they collared the ladies in charge of the Velvet Vixens Guild that specialized in renting night maidens to the highborn upworlders.

I stretched on a violet couch, eating fanciful bread. Bread did not grow in Undertown, this food was likely brought here from above as gifts for the Matroness who’s body was now, too, inside my magic bag.

Things were great. After a bit of interrogation, I had harvested the souls of the ten Guilder Masters and they were now residing as pure sustenance in a black talon on my belt, a small shard of the dracolich’s fingernail.

The air in front of me suddenly warped and a perfectly square gateway flashed into existence before I could utter a single word.

I spotted someone inside that I did not expect to see walking. It was Juni, my own, other body was somehow upright and covered head to toe in pure black armor.

“Divide by zero,” she said, pointing her finger at me.

Grogtilda’s body collapsed, as my all-killing two-dimensional Endy blade tore mercilessly through the very core of her soul, annihilating the vile controlling hex that had been insidiously placed within her by the dracolich.

I stepped out of the Eurekan gate and found myself engulfed by the opulent surroundings where Grogs now resided.

“Did you just put yourself to sleep?” Baroness Amadea asked.

I pulled off my helmet and turned to face her, taking in the sight of the high-cendai, who was drenched in blood from head to toe. The marble floor of the room we were in was now a macabre mosaic of gore and violence. Voltara blinked at me with warm brown eyes.

“You were able to access the Shogun gate?” The maid asked.

I nodded to my friend.

“My human body required a restorative nap,” I explained to Amadea, attempting to maintain a sense of normalcy. “It was losing focus due to the topaz infection. How are things here?”

“Under control,” Amadea replied, wiping a stray strand of blood-soaked hair from her face. “The Velvet Vixens Guild has been purged of undesirable elements, and my maids are just about done collaring the rest.”

“Right,” I said, eyeing the lifeless corpses that littered the floor. “How many have you collared in total?”

“One thousand two hundred and sixty-two Undertown guilders have been collared,” Amadea purred, “the collars are tuned to respond to the armacus on your human body. Simply utter an order, and they will either explode and take their heads off or dispense pain that humans cannot handle.”

“Uh-huh,” I tried to sound nonchalant.

Great, I leave the planet for a few days, and I return as a bloody slave owner. Way to go, me.

I looked down at Grogtilda’s body splayed sideways on the plush violet couch, and wondered what other unforeseen consequences awaited me in the aftermath of this grisly affair.

This bloody mess would surely take a needless amount of effort to untangle.