Chương 70: Chapter 045 My First Starter Dungeon (Part 1)

Ten minutes later, Jack was standing in the dungeon entrance with his bow at the ready and a full quiver of arrows on his back. A combination of the basic ones he'd bought for practice and the serrated-tipped ones he'd looted from the rogue. The interior of the dungeon was dark, lit only by the flickering glow of a few aether-lanterns mounted on the walls and the dim light from the entrance.

"Alright," Mary said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Standard formation. Barney, you're on point with the shield. Ben, you're right behind him. Arthur, you're left flank rear. Jack, you're at the right flank; keep an eye out for anything that tries to flank us. Carol, stay in the middle where you can reach everyone. I'll be just behind Barney." Jack nodded. That's a good setup. Their healer, Carol, would be safest, while Arthur could support their archer if he got into trouble.

The group moved forward in a loose formation, their footsteps echoing in the narrow stone corridor. The air was cool and damp, carrying the faint, iron-sweet scent of old blood and the musty smell of ancient stone.

"Is it always this creepy?" Ben whispered.

"How would we know? It's our first time." Barney chuckled. Ben shrugged. They emerged from the corridor into a large hall, its ceiling lost in shadow. The remains of tapestries hung in tatters on the walls, their colours long since faded to grey. The stone floor was cracked and uneven, with patches of dark, moss-like growth spreading across the flagstones. And in the corners of the room, dark shapes stirred.

"Blood rats," Arthur whispered.

"At least a dozen." Jack raised his bow, nocking an arrow. The rats were about the size of small dogs, their fur matted and dark, their eyes gleaming with a hungry red light. They were focused on the group, their noses twitching as they sensed the intruders.

"Steady," Mary said, her voice tight.

"Let them come to us. It's easier to pick them off when they're…" The rats charged.

"Bloody hell!" Ben shouted, raising his sword as the first wave of furry bodies surged towards them. Try to use all my skills. I have to practi s e them. Jack cast [Assassin's Mark] on one of the blood rats and gained little insight. Healthy Blood Rat, hungry. He frowned. That's not much use. His limited training and class knowledge kicked in. He drew and aimed at the lead rat while counting to three in his head before release.

The arrow struck it in the chest, and it tumbled to the ground with a squeak, its momentum carrying it a few feet before it lay still.

"Nice shot," Carol called. Jack didn't respond, already nocking another arrow. Barney swung his shield, smashing a rat out of the air. Arthur's spear darted forward, skewering a rat that had tried to flank them. Ben was at the front, his sword swinging wildly, but he was fast, and the rats were having trouble getting past his blade. Mary raised her hands, her face pinched with concentration.

"[Ember Flicker]." A small flame flickered to life on her palm as she pressed it against a rat that had been injured badly by Ben. The creature squealed, its fur catching fire as it tried to flee. Jack shuddered at the smouldering rat corpse. Keep calm. You're in no real danger.

"That's three for me!" Ben shouted, his voice filled with excitement.

"Come on. Keep them coming." Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Over the next few minutes, the team worked together with surprising efficiency. Jack loosed arrow after arrow from the rear, picking off rats that tried to flank them. Barney's shield was a wall of protection, deflecting the creatures that got too close. Arthur's spear was a constant, deadly presence, his strikes precise and efficient.

Ben was chaotic but effective, his sword carving a path through the rat swarm. And Mary was learning. With each kill she secured, her confidence grew as she finished off injured rats. Finally, the last rat fell. Ben's sword cleaving it in two with a triumphant shout.

"That's right! That's what you get!"

"Stop shouting," Arthur said, his voice mild.

"You'll attract more."

"Let them come!" Ben declared, striking a heroic pose.

"I'll take them all!"

"In your condition?" Carol raised an eyebrow.

"You've been bitten." Ben looked down at his arm, where a small wound was bleeding.

"It's just a scratch!"

"You've got blood on your trousers," Jack observed.

"Also your back." Ben twisted to look, his bravado evaporating.

"Alright, maybe a few of them got through." He winced.

"Ow. That one actually stings a bit." Carol pushed through the group, her hands already glowing with healing magic.

"Let me see." They waited while Carol tended to Ben's wounds, and Jack took the opportunity to retrieve his arrows from the corpses. He counted the bodies; fourteen rats. Their corpses could be sold to the Guild for 5 coppers each; alchemists used their blood in several common potions. 5 coppers wasn't a fortune, but enough to make the trip worthwhile.

"Alright," Mary said when Carol had finished.

"That went better than I expected. Jack, you did great. You hit almost every shot."

"Not every," Jack admitted.

"But enough."

"More than enough." Ben clapped him on the shoulder.

"See? I told you he was the right choice." Mary ignored him and looked around the hall.

"There's a passage on the far side. We need to go through there to reach the next level. According to the maps, there's a safe area past the kitchens." They moved through the castle, fighting their way through room after room. The blood rats were everywhere, breeding fast in the damp, dark corridors. But they were predictable, and the team was learning. Mary was improving fastest. With each fight, she grew more confident with her spells, learning when to use [Ember Flicker] and when to use [Frost Touch].

Jack found himself feeding her kills, weakening rats with his arrows so she could finish them off with her magic. It was risky. Mary had to get close to use her spells, but with Barney's shield covering her and Jack's arrows keeping the rats off balance, it worked.

"You're getting better," Jack told her after a particularly smooth exchange where she'd taken down three rats in quick succession. Mary flushed with pride.

"Thanks. I've been practising at home on logs. My dad got me a secondhand book on mage spells so I can study and train." Jack nodded.

"That's smart. The more you understand the theory, the easier the casting becomes."

"It's just… there's so much to learn," Mary said.

"Magecraft is like a whole different language. I mean, it basically is a different language. Ancient Elvish, mostly, but with a lot of weird technical terms that don't translate well."

"Keep at it," Jack said.

"You'll get there." In his past life he'd read multiple books on magic theory, and knew that to become a powerful mage required a lifetime of dedicated study and practical application. Although plenty of humans chose mage as their chosen class, the slow levelling speed meant very few reached the Master Mage level. The average human Master Mage was over one hundred years old. It was the longer-lived races, like elves, who filled the ranks of Master Mages.

With lifespans in the thousands of years, many went way beyond the level 100 threshold. The next room was a kitchen, its stone floor slick with moisture and old grease. The air was thick with the cloying smell of decay from the remains of ancient meals, long since rotted away. And in the centre of the room, surrounded by a half-dozen blood spiders, was a goblin. The creature was backed into a corner, its rusted shortsword raised in a defensive pose.

The blood spiders were advancing slowly, their legs clicking against the flagstones, their venomous fangs dripping with anticipation. The goblin's eyes were wide with panic, and it was making a high-pitched keening noise that Jack suspected was supposed to be a war cry but sounded more like a terrified scream.

"Oh, that's different," Arthur observed.

"It's terrified," Carol said, her voice a mix of pity and revulsion.

"Those spiders are going to eat it."

"Great," Ben said, raising his sword.

"We'll save it and then kill it. Best of both worlds!"

"Ben, wait…" Mary started, but it was too late. Ben charged into the room, sword raised high.

"Come on, you bastards! Pick on someone your own size!" The goblin, seeing a potential distraction, made a break for it. It sprinted straight towards the group, its eyes wild with fear, its sword still clutched in its trembling hands.

"Look out!" Jack shouted, but it was too late. The goblin ran right into the middle of the group. Ben stumbled backwards, tripping over his own feet. The goblin collided with Arthur, who grunted in surprise and tried to spear it. The creature ducked under the spear, its movements erratic and desperate, and kept running.