Lindon had assumed as much. There were only a few reasons to collect corpses in a place like this labyrinth, and “honoring the dead” was probably the least likely. This had once been the place to generate death aura and funnel it away to some project.
Though, like all the other aura in the place, it had been consumed by hunger.
Lindon started to open the hand, ready to move on, when Eithan stopped him.
“There’s no exit,” Eithan pointed out.
Lindon saw he was right. The only way out was the entrance through which they’d come.
“All right,” Mercy said, “back down!”
She made as though to leap down the hole, but Lindon had unraveled the case around the hand already. Hunger filled the room, and he sensed immediately where to go. It was a hallway sealed behind a blank stretch of wall.
No enemy techniques struck at them this time, but it still left them in a quandary. Yerin sat down immediately, arms crossed.
“Bet my sword against a fingernail there’s about to be a door there.”
Mercy took several deep breaths, calming herself. “You’re right. I know you’re right, but…we’re going so slow.”
“I’m just as worried about going too fast,” Lindon said. “We want to know what we’re walking into.” He didn’t mind the chance to explore the room some more, so after packing away the hand, he immediately checked the entire room. By looking to Eithan.
Instantly, Eithan pointed to a corner of the room. “An unfortunate previous explorer. Left some records. Could be a map.”
Lindon crossed the space in one leap, landing on the highest tier around the outside wall. A skeleton huddled there, in between heavy stone coffins that had been dragged around to make a makeshift fortress. Old scripts had been painted around him, though they were faded with time.
Orthos scurried up to the skeleton, pulling out a scrap of paper that had been tucked away in the would-be tomb robber’s clothes.
Lindon focused his perception on the rest of the body, trying to sense anything with even a trace of power, but either the years or other explorers had taken everything of value.
Meanwhile, Orthos was reading the paper.
“He was writing a warning to a team coming after him,” Orthos rumbled. “He warns against a guardian. He says it has powers beyond his understanding, and calls it…a baby Dreadgod. The Tomb Hydra.”
Unwilling to rely solely on his spiritual sense, Lindon had been flipping through the dead man’s pockets with his hand. After he flipped open the front of the man’s robes, his fingers stopped.
The skeleton was wearing a badge. A white badge.
Unlike Lindon’s, this one was carved with the symbol of a cloud, but quick inspection revealed this to be wintersteel-plated bronze. If Lindon understood Eithan’s history lesson correctly, that meant this man had been a Sage.
Orthos snorted smoke over the document. “His power was weighed down by the field. We won’t be as weak as he was.”
Lindon hesitated, halfway between pocketing this badge. Had Orthos not seen it? Did he not realize how advanced this sacred artist had been?
“Orthos…”
“I saw it,” the turtle said.
Lindon nodded and slipped the badge into his pocket. There was no need to ask if Eithan had seen it; indeed, the Archlord was already calling out to the rest of the room.
“It seems we’re about to reach a guardian known as the Tomb Hydra, powerful enough to cause a Sage to tremble in fear, and likened to a Dreadgod. Probably not without cause, given that somewhere in here is the birthplace of the Dreadgods. Who’s frightened?”
Lindon wished he had his right arm at full capacity, but he wasn’t frightened.
Mercy shrugged.
Yerin brightened, her crimson eyes sparkling. “You’re thinking we get a real fight?”
“The suppression field worked on everything,” Ziel pointed out. “It shouldn’t be able to take us at full power unless it’s a real Dreadgod. Then we’re dead.”
Dross materialized in front of Lindon again, his color still too pale and washed-out. [It is good to be optimistic. You will perform better if your spirits are up. But defeat here is not the greatest risk. We should consider the fact that any madra or soulfire we expend in this battle will be difficult, if not impossible, to replace. Our power is finite.]
Everyone grew more grim, except Eithan, who beamed at Dross. “Thank you for reintroducing some tension to the situation, Dross!”
[You’re welcome. Ha ha.]
The fake laugh told Lindon that Dross thought he’d told a joke, but Lindon wasn’t sure which part the joke was supposed to be.
Space shifted again, and suddenly there was an opening in front of Yerin. She shot to her feet as deadly green-black aura blew out of the tunnel like a toxic wind.
It battered at her lifeline, but Lindon wasn’t concerned about her. She was a Herald now; aura of this level wouldn’t be able to touch her unless she lived in it for years. He was more concerned for Mercy, and he moved to stand in front of her. He reinforced his protection of Orthos and Little Blue as he did so.
Mercy gave him a grateful smile. “Thanks! I can handle it for a while, but I’d rather be in combat shape.”
Lindon nodded back and headed into a tunnel marked with a pair of crossed swords. And toward the monster that waited there.
“Good thing it hasn’t attacked us yet!” Eithan shouted.
It immediately attacked.
11
From deep in the tunnel that crawled with death aura, a beam of pale, sickly green light blasted toward Lindon and the others. It tore through the air, filled with malevolent willpower, pressing heavy against Lindon’s Sage senses like one of the Wandering Titan’s casual attacks.
Everyone had techniques ready to defend themselves, but Yerin met the attack first. She stood in front, her scarlet sword-arms extended, the black sword Netherclaw in both hands. It shone with a silver-red light as she used the weapon Enforcer technique of her Path: the Flowing Sword.
The beam of condensed death madra crashed into the tip of her sword and splintered, smaller beams breaking off and scouring the walls. Any living thing would be annihilated by that Striker technique, but the stones were not only enforced with authority, but they were also stones. The death madra was harmless.
Yerin’s lock of red hair whipped in the wind caused by the clash between their techniques, but she didn’t take a step backwards. She pushed forward a step, shoving against the enemy technique.
When the beam of death faded, Yerin pulled her sword back.
“See how you like it,” she muttered.
And she responded in kind.
A gleaming beam of red-white light shot down the tunnel, lighting everything crimson. Her focused will to destroy pushed against Lindon’s mind, and he suspected Orthos and Little Blue wouldn’t have even been able to stand this close to the technique without his protection.
From the other end of the tunnel, they heard a monstrous scream.
“Wonder what that was,” Eithan said brightly.
It took them two seconds to clear the long tunnel.
The Tomb Hydra waited at the end of the hall, in a room that reminded Lindon of a honeycomb. It was spherical, like many of the other rooms they had encountered so far, but this time virtually every stretch of wall was filled with tunnel after tunnel. You could barely see any wall between all the doors, heading in every direction.