NOVGO.NET Chapter 11: In The Dark
Chapter 11: In The Dark
The shockwave from the collapsing bulkhead threw thick clouds of green mist across the frozen butchery hall.
A cavern opened behind the shattered frame, sloping downward into pitch-black darkness.
"Retreat to the gate portal!" Bram shouted, raising his dented shield as his feet skidded across the ice.
Before anyone could turn, the floor beneath their feet gave way with a groan of fracturing stone.
The Iron Dogs tumbled down the twenty-meter chute, crashing into a dark chamber smelling of copper and dry bone.
Fin landed on his feet with the supply crates still strapped to his back, absorbing the kinetic impact with ease.
Jax groaned from the floor three meters away, his hands feeling blindly in the total darkness.
"My leg is pinned under a rock," Jax hissed in pain, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Where is the light?"
Corin struck his charred staff against the ground, channeling his remaining mana to ignite a spark.
"Nngh!" Corin coughed as a puff of black smoke fizzled from the wood, failing to ignite in the air. "The mana density down here is suffocating my fire... I can’t light a flame!"
Four pairs of red eyes ignited in the darkness surrounding their perimeter, accompanied by guttural snarls.
The silhouettes of four Frost Orc Skirmishers emerged from the gloom, their serrated cleavers scraping against stone.
"Defensive circle!" Bram yelled into the black void, his voice trembling as a weapon clattered against his shield. "Don’t let them flank the caster!"
A broad blade struck Bram’s shield with bone-cracking force, sending the warrior skidding across the floor.
"Aahh!" Bram cried out in pain as the shockwave bruised his shoulder, forcing him down onto one knee.
Jax swung his bone daggers blindly into the dark, but a club struck his collarbone, throwing him backward.
He stood in the center of the darkness, unbuckling the straps of his pack-frame with calm fingers.
He lowered the two-hundred-and-forty-kilogram load to the ground, stepping into the freezing void with silent steps.
His enhanced Sense stat pierced the darkness effortlessly, highlighting the muscle fibers and heartbeats of all four monsters.
’Four seconds,’ he thought, cracking his knuckles without making an audible sound. ’One second per monster.’
He surged forward, his sneakers leaving zero sound on the stone as his E-rank speed blurred into motion.
He closed the distance to the first skirmisher in half a breath, slipping beneath its raised cleaver.
He drove his bare palm upward into the monster’s chin, the raw kinetic impact driving its skull into its spine.
"Gkkh!" The creature wheezed, dying before its feet left the ground.
Without slowing down, he pivoted on his heel, catching the second monster’s spear thrust between his fingers.
He twisted the frozen shaft with violent torque, snapping the wood before driving the point through its chest.
The third monster swung its broad cleaver toward where it heard the snap, striking empty air.
He materialized behind its left shoulder, wrapping his arm around its thick neck in a clean sleeper hold.
A sharp twist of his torso snapped the monster’s cervical vertebrae with a dry pop that echoed softly.
The fourth skirmisher sensed the slaughter, turning to flee toward the dark tunnels behind the chamber.
He grabbed a rusted freezer hook from the floor, throwing the metal bar with pinpoint precision.
The hook crossed the twenty-meter gap in a fraction of a second, burying itself deep in the monster’s back.
"Urgggh..." The last creature gurgled, collapsing face-down into the dirt.
The entire fight lasted three and a half seconds, conducted without a single wasted movement beneath the ceiling.
He stepped over the fallen bodies, placing his palm flat against the chest of the largest skirmisher.
[ Absorb? ]
[ Target: frost orc skirmisher (E-Rank) - deceased ]
[ Available: ]
[ > strength ]
[ > speed ]
[ > endurance ]
[ > skills / abilities ]
’Speed,’ he selected instantly, feeling his lower body heat up as the core dissolved into his palm.
[ Absorbed: speed +5 ]
[ EXP: 626 / 50,500 ]
The corpse withered into gray dust beneath his fingers, leaving only empty bone and rusted armor scrap.
A tiny yellow spark flared across the room as Corin finally managed to ignite the tip of his staff.
The dim orange glow washed over the chamber, illuminating the frozen rock walls and floor.
Bram climbed to his feet with his shield raised, his jaw dropping open as he looked around the room.
Three corpses remained beside the emptied armor, each bearing a different wound from the fight.
"What in the name of the gods happened?" Jax stammered, staring at the corpses with wide, terrified eyes.
"The guardian patron," Bram whispered in reverence, falling to his knees in the dirt. "A wandering spirit of the upper gates heard our prayers... it smote our enemies in the dark!"
"A divine miracle," Corin agreed, wiping sweat from his pale forehead while lowering his staff. "We were spared by divine intervention."
He picked up his pack-frame, hoisting the two hundred and forty kilograms back onto his shoulders.
"Wow, that was crazy," he said in a convincingly shaky voice, adjusting his straps. "I closed my eyes and prayed really hard... I guess your patron is pretty strong, Mr. Bram."
"Of course he is strong, kid!" Bram proclaimed proudly, wiping a tear of gratitude from his eye. "Faith moves mountains... now let’s find the extraction stairs before another wave arrives."
He followed the three limping hunters up the emergency drainage tunnel, keeping his eyes on the path.
’Religion is great,’ he thought, hiding his smirk in the collar of his jacket. ’It saves me from having to explain how four monsters died in the dark.’
They climbed through three hundred meters of narrow tunnels, finally spotting the daylight pouring from the service exit.
The autumn wind felt refreshing against their sweat-soaked faces as they stepped onto the loading dock.
Twenty minutes later, the party emerged through the main gate portal into the afternoon sunlight.
A licensed assault squad finished the core while the Iron Dogs climbed toward the service exit.
The clerks stamped their support clearance, crediting the party for remaining inside until the gate closed.
He collected his porter compensation voucher, pocketing thirty-two crisp hundred-credit bills into his wallet.
He bought four bottled energy drinks from the vendor kiosk, handing three to the battered Iron Dogs.
"Drink up, veterans," he smiled, offering a can to Bram. "You earned this victory."
"You did good today, pack mule," Bram grunted, clinking his can against his beverage. "Next time we get a corporate gate, we’re asking for you by name."
"Get that shoulder checked before another booking," Fin told Jax.
"Are you our porter or our mother?"
"Whichever one gets you to the medical tent. I cannot carry four crates and your excuses tomorrow."
He waved goodbye to the trio, watching them limp toward the medical tent with broad smiles.
Across the staging plaza, a cloaked talent scout from the B-rank guild Stormcrest lowered his brass binoculars.
The scout watched the young porter effortlessly lift the eighty-kilogram surplus crate into the back of a municipal transport.
"No resonance reading on the scanner," the scout murmured into his collar microphone. "Yet his physical output exceeds standard E-tier baselines by thirty percent... flag Subject Nine for observation."
He hopped onto the rear step of the municipal tram, whistling softly as the city skyline rolled past.
He felt thirty-two hundred credits resting against his ribs, ready to transform into prime groceries for his sister.