Chương 89: Chapter 88. Saving Private Nate

Rayne knew he wouldn't reach them in time. The stairs were clogged with soldiers pushing upward, shields scraping stone as the warband forced its way out of the chamber. Rayne shoved through them anyway, heart hammering as he locked eyes on the death elemental pinning Nate and Bran against the wall at the base of the steps. He was still too far. But then, he saw Jason move. The burly soldier was still on the lower steps, undead blood covering one side of his armor, axe already in motion. He didn't hesitate.

He threw his weight into the swing and slammed the edge of the axe into the side of the death elemental with a grunt. The impact rang like a hammer striking an anvil. Cracks spiderwebbed across the elemental's armor, shards flaking away as the thing reeled half a step. The pressure eased just enough. Bran didn't waste the opening. He twisted free, boots skidding on stone, and had an arrow nocked before he was even fully clear. He loosed at point-blank range. The arrow punched straight into the elemental's helmet.

The creature shrieked. It had no mouth, no throat, but a hollow, grinding scream still slipped out and scraped against Rayne's ears, making his skin crawl. But he kept running, ducking and shifting to move through the climbing soldiers, and as he got closer, he got a good look at the monster. The death elemental wasn't a creature in the normal sense. It was a suit of armor animated by a parasite inside it.

That much Rayne knew, but looking at it closely, he saw black mist churning out of the gaps in its armor, revealing rotten flesh beneath. It was almost impossible to notice with the green gas around, but it was undoubtedly there. And despite the rotting flesh beneath, the elemental moved like a force of nature. The arrow embedded in its helmet barely slowed it. It wrenched itself forward and swung at Nate. Nate barely had time to react. He brought his shield up instinctively.

The blade dug deep into the metal, and the shield shattered. The force of the blow sent Nate crashing into the wall, eyes wide with shock as fragments clattered across the steps. The elemental raised its weapon again. Jason stepped in front of him and took the blow head-on. The impact drove Jason back a full step, boots gouging into stone. Rayne saw the pain flash across his face as the armor on his shoulder buckled inward. But Jason held. Just long enough. Those few seconds were everything.

Rayne surged forward now that he was close to the bottom. He took in another gulp of air, breath burning his throat slightly from the gas in the air, but he focused on the elemental and knew one thing. A normal strike wouldn't do anything. He didn't have time to face it head-on either. He pushed mana into his sword. The blade responded instantly. Death mana saturated the chamber so completely that it poured into the weapon like water into a dry sponge.

The metal heated in his grip, dark energy crawling along its edge, warping the air around it. Jason saw the glow and moved without being told, dragging Nate aside and stepping back just as Rayne swung. The arc of death mana tore through the air. It slammed into the elemental like a guillotine. Armor split apart with a thunderous crack. The chest plate caved inward, the helmet snapping back as the force of the blow lifted the creature off its feet.

The elemental was thrown bodily backward, sliding along the ground and crashing into the mass of undead moving toward the stairs. The black mist inside it spilled out violently from the impact, its shrieks cutting off into a distorted, echoing hiss. Rayne lowered his blade, chest heaving, and immediately looked at Nate, Jason, and Bran. He pointed upward, gesturing for them to hurry as the undead began moving toward them now that there was no shield blocking them.

Rayne waited just long enough to see all three of them start moving. Only then did he turn and take the first step up. But out of nowhere, something cold and clawed wrapped around his ankle. Rayne swore and kicked down hard at the undead, but the grip held for a split second longer than it should have. He twisted and brought his shield down in a brutal arc, smashing it into the skull of the monster clinging to him. Bone cracked, and the grip finally loosened. He tore free and didn't slow down again.

He took the stairs two at a time, boots hammering stone as he climbed. Most of his warband was already up ahead, the flow of soldiers thinning rapidly now that the bulk of them had passed. The chaos and pressure eased just enough for him to run without shoving past anyone. But his throat burned. Every breath scraped it, the lingering effects of the gas still clinging to his lungs. He coughed once, then clenched his jaw and forced it down. He doubted [Lesser Regeneration] would kick in before it worsened.

The skill wasn't made for poisons. So Rayne decided to drink a potion as soon as this was over. He couldn't take risks with something that might be poison, despite his high stats. Once he was halfway up the stairs, Captain Edran shouted from above.

"Rayne!" This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. His voice cut through the noise from below.

"Get here fast!" Rayne didn't need the encouragement. He surged forward, matching pace with Nate, Bran, and Jason as they reached the last stretch together. Jason was limping slightly, armor dented in places, but he kept moving without complaint. The top of the stairs finally came into view. Rayne hauled himself up the final steps and crossed the threshold, boots skidding slightly as he came to a stop beside the others. He sucked in a full breath of cleaner air and felt his lungs scream in protest before settling.

Then he turned. Below them, the stairs were no longer clear. Half a dozen undead were climbing the steps, chasing after them. Fortunately, he didn't see the elemental among them. Rayne's gaze swept across the chamber one last time, and he realized most of the army had decided to retreat. Through the open gate in the center, he could see the long trail of soldiers disappearing down the sloped hallway. With the green gas now thick enough to cling to the air like fog, they hadn't had the luxury of holding ground.

Choking to death in a poison-filled chamber was one of the worst ways to die. Undead still poured out of the left gate, spilling into the chamber in uneven waves. They moved instinctively toward the center door, drawn by sound and motion, shambling and sprinting alike as they tried to chase the retreating army. Rayne turned back toward the stairs just as arrows whistled through the air. Several shafts struck the climbing undead cleanly—through skulls, eye sockets, and exposed joints.

A few of the bodies tumbled backward, crashing into the ones below them and sending the whole cluster stumbling. But his warband still didn't move. Rayne frowned and looked toward Captain Edran. The captain caught his gaze immediately and sensed the question in his eyes.

"We need to make sure none of them follow us," Edran said calmly. Then he turned and barked over his shoulder, "Move! Put as much distance between you and the stairs!" That was all it took. The soldiers surged into motion at once, boots pounding stone as they ran up the hallway behind Rayne. The sound echoed and layered over itself as the warband withdrew, discipline keeping panic at bay. Rayne stayed where he was. So did Edran and a few others.

He watched as the last of the common soldiers vanished around the bend, then looked back down the stairs. Undead were still climbing, clawing and stumbling over stone and fallen bodies. More were gathering below, drawn by the noise and the press of numbers. Only then did Captain Edran turn slightly.

"Be ready," he said to Varrick, who stood right behind them. Varrick didn't reply, but his stance shifted. Mana gathered around his hands immediately as he took a step back. The captain's gaze then moved to Casper, who stepped forward without waiting to be told. And in that instant, Rayne understood exactly what they were about to do. Casper hadn't used a single spell in the chamber. Not once. And now he knew why. She raised her gloved hand, and a simple spell matrix bloomed into existence above her palm.

Flames coiled into being the very next second, their heat making the air shimmer. Casper flicked her wrist. The flames surged forward like a living tide, rushing past Rayne and down the stairs toward the center of the chamber. At the same moment, a translucent [Force Shield] snapped into place in front of them, sealing off the stairway. And the next second, the chamber exploded. The green gas ignited all at once. Fire raced through it in a violent chain reaction, the flames blooming outward in a roaring inferno.

Heat slammed into the force shield like a hammer, fire washing up the steps and splashing uselessly against the barrier. Rayne felt the temperature spike instantly, sweat breaking out across his skin despite the shield. Below, the results were immediate. The common undead didn't even have time to scream. Their rotting flesh ignited and tore apart, bodies collapsing in on themselves as bone blackened and cracked. Ghouls caught in it simply evaporated, their forms unraveling into drifting embers.

Undead lords staggered as their armor glowed red-hot, fire pouring into every seam. Death elementals burned violently, necrotic mist boiling out of their cracked shells as the parasites inside shrieked and writhed. The sound was horrific. A chorus of distorted screams echoed through the chamber until even Rayne's hardened nerves recoiled from it. Casper stood at the edge of the stairs, firelight reflecting in her eyes, and smiled. Rayne didn't need to ask to know what had just happened.

With that many undead destroyed in a single burst, she would be leveling a lot. Possibly more than a few times. They didn't wait to watch the rest burn. Captain Edran turned sharply to the soldiers around him.

"We're done here." The force shield dropped as the fire below continued to rage, consuming everything left in the chamber.

"We move," he ordered. Rayne didn't hesitate. He turned and sprinted, boots hammering stone as he followed the others into the corridor ahead. The smell of burning rot and scorched stone clung to the air behind them, but it faded with every step they took. They caught up with the rest of the soldiers quickly, and Captain Edran immediately moved to the front, shouting orders as the warband paused to listen.

Scouts—including Bran and Quinn—were sent ahead almost immediately to check for traps or any monsters waiting for them. Everyone was told to sip their potions. Not drink them fully—just enough to deal with whatever remnants of the gas lingered in their lungs. Even the forsaken who didn't carry any were given a small sip from the extra potions squad leaders carried. Rayne did so without hesitation. The liquid burned slightly as it went down, then cooled his throat in a way that made him feel refreshed.

The raw ache faded almost immediately, his breathing evening out within seconds. Around him, others had the same reactions. Poison antidotes were kept with the squad leaders, just in case, but no one wanted to use them unless absolutely necessary. They were rare, expensive, and there was no guarantee they would even work against whatever poison had been mixed into the gas. If someone worsened, they'd deal with it then. For now, no one did. And so, they moved again.

Rayne fell back into step with his party, the steady rhythm of marching returning almost instinctively. Not long after, Nate slowed just enough to walk beside him, his expression tight with guilt.

"About earlier," Nate said quietly.

"I messed up." Rayne glanced at him but didn't interrupt.

"There was a soldier who panicked," Nate continued.

"Got grabbed by an undead and I moved to help, but as we were climbing the stairs, the elemental came out of nowhere. That guy ran, but I got stuck fighting it. Bran saw and tried to help, and…" He trailed off.

"Also got cornered." Rayne listened in silence. When Nate finished, he nodded once.

"It's fine," he said simply.

"You did what you thought was right. Just remember to look out for yourself first. I don't want to see your body burning in Casper's flames." Nate smiled wryly but nodded, and they continued to march as silence fell between them. As he walked, many thoughts surfaced in Rayne's mind—about how the scouts hadn't known about the gas trap and what awaited them ahead—but he pushed them aside. There was no point spiraling now. Instead, Rayne focused inward.

He hadn't checked his status since entering the dungeon, not once through all the fighting and chaos. And now he was curious about his stat gains and whether he had obtained another skill. With anticipation in his heart, he opened his notifications.

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