A Bored Lich - 458 The Hunt Begins

Merlin smiled. “I’ve already got a few ideas,” he said.

Sindre looked surprised. “Oh, already?” she asked. “I’m impressed.”

Merlin paused. “Yes…although, a lot of them are not applicable to this circumstance. We can just proceed as usual.”

Sindre half-rolled her eyes with a slight smile. “I knew it sounded too good to be true. Where do you need me to prepare?”

“Somewhere with a lot of space, preferably,” Merlin said.

Wilhelm pointed at the opening at the top of the tree. “There’s a spot like that at the very bottom of the ruin. You can’t miss it.”

Merlin knelt down, placed his hand flat against the tree, and breathed out a lungful of mana. He kept still as a statue as the surge of energy traveled like a wave throughout the exterior and interior of the tree, returning five minutes later. “This ruin is very old and complex…” His explanation to the group faded to random muttering as he turned towards Dag. “Interesting.”

Dag slightly narrowed his eyes at Merlin. “What?” he asked.

Merlin pointed a jagged finger at him. “Your clothes,” he said. “They’re special. They’re good at avoiding detection, but I don’t recognize the form of enchantment.”

Dag huffed. “Is that unacceptable?”

“How did you come to acquire them?” Merlin asked.

“We don’t have time for that right now,” Sindre interrupted. “Where is the Cardinal located?”

Merlin frowned. “I just wanted to know-“

Sindre stared at him until his ears drooped. “Remember what I said about staying focused.”

“Right. Right. I keep forgetting,” Merlin said with the shake of his head. “The Cardinal is on the third level.” He thought for another moment and muttered. “Who in their right mind would put a labyrinth in the middle of a forest? It was full of Ghouls so I can only imagine it was maybe a Lich’s domicile at some point, but then why would an alive tree be here? What’s the point of putting it here? I should ask if they’ve heard of anything about a Lich before. Oh and-“

Sindre clapped her hands in front of him to snap him out of his thoughts. “What did I just say? Remember how we talked about focusing on the task at hand, Merlin?” She asked. “Where is he specifically?”

Merlin scrunched his face. “The Cardinal spread his mana around the cavern so that’s the best I can do. That’s why I was asking about where Dag got his clothing because-“

“I don’t care,” Sindre said. “Ask later, please.”

Wilhelm clapped his hands together. “Everyone, we’ll use the usual plan.”

Dag cleared his throat.

Wilhelm nodded. “Right. Uh, Dag, just stay behind me and protect Merlin. We’ll give you the first shot.”

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The slightly chill of early spring, the warmth of the sunlight filtering through the branches, and the gentle sounds of the forest vanished as the sound of Wilhelm’s boots echoed throughout the depths of the ruin. He’d spent a few days within the ruin, but he never got used to the cold pressure which seemed to gradually slip past his scale mail, at least that’s what he told other people.

Sindre rubbed at her arms. “Why did the Cardinal have to choose here of all places? It feels godless.” She pulled out a light crystal, and the shadows behind stalagmites and stalactites shifted like moving teeth.

Wilhelm let out a sigh before taking out his own light crystal: “It’s so…dark. It’s awful, just awful.”

“Right!?” Sindre asked. “I’m glad you think so as well, unlike these two.”

Dag and Merlin both shrugged and said, “I grew up in a cave.” They exchanged surprising glances, then looked back at the shivering Sindre apathetically.

“Which way?” Dag asked.

Merlin and Wilhelm pointed down the same tunnel, and their march resumed around corners, past sheer, sudden drops, down smelly, uneven terrain. Somewhere along their way, Sindre found the passage to an open area and broke off from them. A few minutes later, they stumbled across the back of a red robed figure – Cardinal Ver Dilen.

“He doesn’t seem to have heard us, somehow,” Dag whispered to the others after peaking around the corner.

Wilhelm looked down at his own armor and weapons. His breastplate had the symbol of the goddess, but it was essentially a hunk of metal around his chest that, when paired with his sword, shield, gauntlets, and greaves, made it extremely hard to be quiet. It had taken most of the hour just to get to the third floor, during which Dag had relentlessly hushed him.

Dag had also commandeered the light crystal and kept it hidden underneath several layers of cloth. He could still move around easily. Merlin didn’t have trouble either since Goblins could see in the dark. His slitted eyes emitted the faintest slivers of light. Wilhelm struggled to the point that his greaves had a few new scrapes.

‘I cleared out this ruin myself, yet I used up all our time,’ Wilhelm thought. ‘Last time, I just walked around as loud as possible so that the Ghouls would come to me. It was easy enough to destroy them so I never thought about other options. Maybe the War Monks have biased my way of fighting too much.’ He paid much, much closer attention to Dag.

“Let me do my thing,” Dag whispered. “If it fails, cover me until I take position.” He left without seeing if they agreed. Wilhelm didn’t blame him.

Dag crept until he was within a dozen paces of the Cardinal, and squatted in between a section of stalagmites, one of which he used to steady his crossbow.

Wilhelm swallowed his saliva. He knew it wouldn’t work. Merlin knew it wouldn’t work. Hell, even Dag knew it wouldn’t work. Why even bother with a sneak attack on one of the strongest people in the continent, a part of Wilhelm asked? ‘There’s no other way forward,’ he thought. ‘I have to keep pushing. I can’t let all the sacrifices be in vain.’ He white-knuckled his sword’s hilt.

‘Not yet,’ Wilhelm thought while listening to the sound of his drumming heartbeat. ‘Wait until the moment he shoots, or I’d be doubting his skills.’

Dag pulled the trigger. A silent shot pierced the darkness, plunged into Cardinal Ver Dilen’s back, and tore through his chest. The shot embedded itself into the solid stone thirty feet away, liquid dripping off its feathered shaft, but the Cardinal stood still as a corpse.

Wilhelm narrowed his gaze and condensed life essence around his eyes. The liquid dripping from the arrow was not blood – it was poison.

Dag seemed to have realized as well as he scanned the chamber. The wall to his immediate left burst open in a hellfire of stone shards.

With a mighty roar, golden life essence and dust trailing off his body, Cardinal Ver Dilen burst from the depths of the tunnel. He looked down at Dag’s fallen figure and swung his fist.

Wilhelm bolted from his position and intercepted the blow with his shield. “What kind of War Monk uses illusions?” he cried.

“You aren’t going to be fighting War Monks!” Cardinal Ver Dilen laughed and reeled back another fist.