Unbound - Chapter Four Hundred And Seventy Four – 474

Chapter Four Hundred And Seventy Four – 474

Spray shot up around the prow of the ship as it smashed down into the vortex of water, simultaneously soaking and thrilling Felix. His sword sang, bright and high, and the waves answered his unspoken Intent. His fear vanished, for this was the doing of the Deepking; Felix knew it in his bones.

Everyone else was screaming though.

One by one his fleet descended into the wild spiral of the maelstrom, foam and wave cutting dizzying lines into sea and sky as sailors clambered atop the rigging and their pilots fought to steady their crafts with desperate strength. Beneath him, the Manaship vibrated hard, as if it were ripping through nightmarish turbulence. Flowing down from his blade, knowledge bloomed in Felix’s Mind, and he shouted over the roar. “Calm down! Let the ships go!”

“But my Lord—!”

“Do it! Let go! Trust the water!”

The Yttin pilot released the wheel. The ship immediately turned, lurching into the spin of the vortex and tossing the less agile off their feet. The turbulence vanished entirely and even the roar of the surf became a quiet gurgling.

Harn clapped Felix’s shoulder. “Damn. You weren’t kiddin’.” The sailors started shouting back to the other ships. “What is this?”

“A pathway to the Temple below,” Felix said. He nodded at the angled depths before them, where the water churned as it fled further and further from their prow. “The Deepking seems to have grown in power.”

“Damn. I’ll say.” Harn paused, loosening his death grip on the gunwale to peer into the deepening maelstrom. It was getting darker the longer they descended, as if night were setting at midday. “How though? Fightin’ the Fathom?”

“I’d have to assume. How else?”

“Hrmm.” Harn even grunted when he thought, and Felix could almost see the wheels spinning in the warrior’s head.

“What?”

“Dunno. Somethin’ feels off. No Skill, just my gut.” Harn spat over the railing and watched as his phlegm was spun away.

“Alright. I’ll keep it in mind,” Felix promised. He wasn’t convinced, but Harn was a good friend. If he said things felt weird, then Felix would pay attention. “Get the Claw prepped. I want to start the breakdown the moment we’re at the gate room.”

“Aye, my Lord.” Harn slapped Felix on the back and scrambled back toward the door belowdecks, despite the ship being at a severe angle.

Soon Felix witnessed the watery tunnel finish its formation, parting the foaming churn to reveal green tinged alabaster pillars and the crumbling facade of a vast temple complex. It spread out below them like a small city, buildings that once soared now tumbled and twisted, fallen atop each other like toppled dominoes. They looked small at first, but soon the structures loomed above them, easily three times the height of their Manaships. Fish flashed silver in the limited light, vast schools of them fleeing their procession…or perhaps just the Nagafolk that chased after them with wide jaws.

They have to eat, I suppose. The water was too dark for others to see much, but Felix’s gaze pierced the umber depths with ease. He spotted more Nagafolk prowling between the collapsed outbuildings, swimming with serpentine grace among the weathered stone and long, sinuous fronds. They looked like…big, prehistoric snakes really, but their Spirits sang dimly of mingled readiness and fear. Afraid of the Fathom, that’s clear.

The vortex pressed downward toward one subsection of the Haestus Temple, opening wide when the mouth of it reached the tilted columns and a huge gate. The gate had once been covered in carvings of some sort, but the features were piled with shelled creatures and Ages-deep layers of green slime and dark blue seaweed. Yet as the water parted and Felix’s fleet righted itself within the tunnel, the gate split open, unleashing a brilliant amber light onto them all. Felix threw up an arm, blocking the sudden flash as he quested forward with his senses, but soon it resolved into an enormous chamber, easily large enough to fit two fleets of Manaships. They soon proved that as ship after ship sailed through the gate, riding atop the waves that extended into the Temple, before weighing anchor near a trio of broken alabaster statues.

Once the last of the ships settled, the whirlpool vanished in a swampy burble, rushing toward them like a waterfall. Before it could flood the Temple, however, the big doors slammed shut with a stentorian boom. Dust rained from the ceiling in such steady streams that had Felix craning his neck upward, just to be sure it wasn’t going to collapse. Then, without warning, the walls and ceiling flared with light and Felix’s Perception was hemmed in; no longer could he sense the waters outside the Temple, or even beyond their current room.

“Glory! Glory to the Abyssal Shores!”

The voice boomed across the chamber, louder than the slamming gate. It carried with it a hint of its owner’s Spirit, sweeping outward lightly enough that it barely buffeted Felix but sent a few sailors and Claw members stumbling. From the depths of the dome-like chamber, Garox reappeared along with a number of his warriors. He lifted his hands as he coiled atop the surface of the water.

“The Deepking, Kar’casitrix of the Abyssal Shores has come!”

The water along the far wall suddenly buckled and swirled, and all around them steam began to rise from the surface. It lingered, thick and cloying as fog, as a shape made from nightmares emerged from below. A head the size of two of his Manaships lashed together lifted out of the dark water, wagon-sized eyes of glowing copper blinking at them all, and a mouth of a hundred fangs opened wide with an intimidating hiss that rippled the waves. His body was sixty feet in diameter and clad in thick, waterlogged-green scales that changed from smooth at the belly to jagged and armored at the back. Immensely large, powerfully present, and built like a orchicalcum shithouse, Felix still found it a little surprising when the Deepking bowed.

“Be welcome, God of Thunder and Flame,” he boomed. “Be welcome God of our Ancestors, Come Anew.”

Right. The god thing. He wasn’t sure what made him say the next words, but perhaps it was annoyance; Felix had never liked pretending to be a god. “Hi Trixie. What’s new?”

Silence filled the chamber, so complete that it was as loud as a scream. Then the Deepking rumbled, a sound of confusion rather than displeasure. “Trixie. A curious appellation, my Lord. What does it mean?”

“Oh, uh, I actually think it means ‘someone who brings joy,'” Felix said, drawing on a deep memory he hadn’t realized was in the vaults of his Mind. Huh. Neat.

“Hmm. I would that I could bring joy to all of my people, my Lord.” The Deepking’s great head bent lower, until he was just a bit taller than eye-level for Felix. “The Fathom are ceaseless in their attacks, and the creature that empowers them has been growing stronger by the day. The flooding has only hastened their plan.”

It was supremely unnerving to look into the face of a creature so big. At least this one doesn’t want to eat me. “I noticed you’ve gained some potency yourself.”

Voracious Eye.

Name: Kar’casitrix, the Deepking

Type: Abyssal Serpent

Level: 901

HP: 65034/65034

SP: 33944/34023

MP: 10498/10498

Lore: Abyssal Serpents are an advanced evolution of the Naga, though their exact nature is not well known. What is known, however, is that an Abyssal Serpent is a catastrophe when roused.

Strength: More Data Required

Weakness: More Data Required

Felix had only seen the Deepking in action once, where he tore gashes into a necromantic Spirit that had been trapped beneath the Haestus Temple for Ages. Not only was his level insane, but all that experience had clearly inflated his stats. As System designated “monsters,” the Nagafolk couldn’t Temper themselves, instead having to rely upon Evolutions. An Abyssal Serpent was one of their advanced forms according to his Eye, and everything in Felix urged him to be wary of the Deepking. The big snake was crazy strong then, and likely more so now.

“It is true, my Lord. Those that have survived against the Fathom’s constant attacks have flourished…but the cost has been great. We have pushed time and again for their home in the dark deeps, but their numbers overwhelm us every time.” The Deepking tilted his head. “Garox says you have an emergency. That you seek the sealed chamber, outside the Chapel of the Eye. Is this true?”

“It is. Can you guide us there?” Felix gestured to the chamber around them. “This place is a maze.”

“Of course, my Lord. Garox.” The Deepking rumbled again. A thinking noise, it seemed. “We must talk, my Lord. I shall meet you at the Chapel.”

Just like that, the biggest Naga Felix had ever seen turned and slipped into the water…vanishing utterly in a span of seconds. According to Felix’s Perception, it was like the Deepking simply ceased existing. It was supremely unnerving, but Garox did not let them dwell on it. He soon gathered their attention and led them onward through the half-flooded complex of Haestus Temple.

During the short jaunt, folks in his fleet were a mess of fear and hope; not everyone saw the exchange between him and the Deepking—some were stuck belowdecks—but those that did began whispering fiercely to the others. That the Deepking was a servant of the Fiend, or the snakes owed him a favor. That he had threatened the Naga with death if they defied him. That he was a slave to the Naga’s whims. The last wasn’t very popular, even among the families that had come along with the fleet—all of which seemed to equal parts fear and dislike Felix. Though Felix was only aware of the activity on his own ship, he imagined similar conversations were happening all over. The Deepking was hard to miss.

Felix put it out of his Mind and tried not to pay attention.

Most portions of the Temple complex were tilted at best, and upside-down at worst, with many hallways utterly in accessible in their ships. Undeterred, Garox led onward, ensuring that every pathway was one the Manaships were able to traverse easily. The rooms and chambers weren’t a surprise to Felix, but even the hallways and corridors were vast, cavernous spaces that spoke to Nymean design sense. Stars abounded in the architecture and decoration, carved into stone and out of crystal—though most of that was hidden by the water—and more crumbling statues of armored figures were tilted drunkenly across the submerged paths.

Felix found the Nymean statues fairly eerie. Not due to any supernatural senses or even magic, but by the simple fact that he felt like he recognized them. Only after the tenth or so face sticking out of the dark water did he realize what was going on; it wasn’t that Felix recognized the Nym, only that he recognized himself in their features. The sharpness of their cheekbones, the shape of their brow, even the slightly larger eyes. The Nym weren’t Human, obviously, but after undergoing so many changes himself Felix realized just how many subtle differences existed between them both. The last statue they passed had a thick, curly beard and Felix found himself lingering on it, scratching at his own hairy jaw in thought.

“We have arrived, my Lord,” Garox intoned. “The sealed door.”

Just ahead was the carved stone door that sat tilted along the wall. Great swathes of black-green moss filled the gaps in the stone, though Felix could also make out the glimmer of ancient, still-active wards. So much of the Temple seemed held together by long-inscribed lines of sigaldry and a deep, strange sort of magic. His sword quivered at his waist when he looked at it all, like a tail wagging. Felix recognized the moss too, having seen it adorn much of the room containing the Shadowgate, but here it was almost charred in places. As they drew closer, navigating around the broken statuary and slantwise pillars, he could see why: blue sigils had burned themselves into the door’s surface, cutting through the moss and fronds with laser precision. They flared back to life as his flagship came abreast at the ruined tumble of stones just outside the door.

Interestingly enough, from so close he could also make out the presence of a number of scratches in the stone, as if someone had attempted to tear open the door at some point. Had those been there before? He couldn’t remember looking too closely back then. Perfect recall wasn’t so useful if he wasn’t paying attention.

“Here you are, my Lord,” Garox said, bowing while resting both hands on the twin scimitars at his waist.

“Did…did someone try to break into here?” Felix asked from atop his ship’s prow.

“No. It has remained unmolested since you proved your Divinity to us all.” The snakeman’s face was very hard to read. Even his Spirit was cool as a cucumber.

“Right. Good to hear.” Felix jumped out of his ship, setting the entire craft bobbing just a bit. He landed on the stone right before the sealed door, and without questioning the instinct, lifted his left hand and spoke. “Open by my Will.”

The blue sigils flared once more and then vanished entirely. Ancient hinges creaked as the double doors swung away from Felix, into the chamber. Within the shadows seemed thicker than elsewhere, and not just due to the lack of light. Ahead of him, the darkness writhed as if alive, and all of it was centered on a point on the ceiling.

The Shadowgate.

Much of it was overgrown with the same black and green moss around the chamber. Despite that, Felix could tell it was designed like a set of sweeping mountains, several rows of what he called the Teeth interspersed with malachite forests and thick rivers of sapphire. Along one side was a waterfall, and along the other were a series of soaring towers and humanoid statues that were almost equal in size. It depicted Shelim as it once was, and the landscape as well, all within the ancient Territory of Nagast.

“Beef! Harn!” Both were on his flagship watching him, just in different places. “Break down the ships, like we planned. Pack and store the engines and supplies. I’ll get the gate moving.”

“Mostly done already. Storage spaces are ready, just got the engines to go,” Harn said.

Felix nodded. “Great. Beef, help him get the engines free. Shape them out if you have to. Do you have a handle on the Shipwright Skill?”

“Yeah. Think so.”

Harn grunted. “Better do more than think, son. We’re gonna need those ships when we get to the other side.”

Beef firmed up his jaw and nodded, hesitation gone. “I got it.”

Pit? Felix sent, only to see his Companion hurtle down from above to land with grace on the stones next to him. “Hey bud. We gotta get the civilians packed up. Can you spread the word?”

“Sure!” Pit hopped, just once, as if eager to fly off again. “Then we’re leaving?”

Felix glanced at Garox and the now-approaching mass of the Deepking himself. Both of their eyes were fixed on Felix, and neither looked particularly pleased. “Go. Spread the word.”

“On it!”

“My Lord,” Garox said, knuckles white upon his blades. “We need to talk.”

“Yeah.” Felix sighed. “Yeah, we do.”