[Grave Robber] Chapter 57 (Patreon)

Chapter 57

A part of Oliver knew this was foolish. What was he to gain from poking his nose into secrets in a biome he had no business with? But the other part of Oliver wanted independence. And loot. Of course a cult would keep their vault of valuables down inside their secret lair. It was only logical in a biome like this. Hopefully, this time he’d get someghing he could actually use. The sword had been excellent, but far more aligned with Kiki’s methods of problem solving than his own.

Oliver knocked the edge of his silver shovel against the stone mosaic floor. Dragging the tool, he crossed the central room until the edge of his shovel finally snagged on something. After a brief moment of examination and consideration, he raised the tool high overhead. Oliver prceeded to smash the blade of his shovel into the obstacle with the entirety of his Strength behind his blow. The impact sent out a spray of stone debris and left a crater in the floor tiles. Apparently, that was either the answer to the puzzle, or he thoroughly destroyed whatever mechanism was designed to trigger, because the image of the fox on the floor twisted and transformed into a spiral staircase.

Oliver stepped down and began his descent into the community center's hidden basement. As he walked, torches burst into roaring flames a few feet in front of him. On the surface, the torches were very helpful. But in reality, it kept his eyes from adjusting, effectively making him blind to obstacles and hidden foes. His Uncanny Sight slightly helped his vision, but this wasnt what the skill was designed for, so it struggled.

The spiral steps finally came to a stop a good twenty or thirty feet down. The square room at the foot of the stairs was damp and Oliver expected some horrible creature to leap out from the shadows and attempt to tear apart his neck. He gripped his shovel tight, prepared.

Nothing.

He checked under the stairs, just to be certain. As he'd suspected, there was indeed a spot there perfect for a creature to hide, but he found the hole there empty.

On the other side of the chamber, he opened the next door and stepped into what looked like a church. Black fabric covered the pews and the altar at the room's head was a jagged chunk of metal. Black wax candles had been speared on the pointed edges of the altar and they flickered to life as Oliver approached.

"Creepy." He poked the altar with his shovel. A bit of black wax fell and smoked on the dark carpet.

Small shelves with rows of bound black books hung from the back of the pews. Oliver snatched one up and flipped through it. Hymns. Prayers. Chants. Scriptures. The usual suspects. It didn't take Oliver long to discover the entity these cultists worshiped was known as Quiluhakkajalim Savant of Darkness. Oliver instantly decided to shorten that name in his head to Quil. Anyone saying “Quiluhakkajalim” more than twice a day had justification for their insanity.

The entity was supposedly held in a prison made of his brother's ribs and could only break free through the lust of his servants. Oliver chose to interpret all of that as a metaphor.

Quil also requested an insane amount of sacrifices. Not just simple direct deaths though. Quil apparently amplified the sacrifice potency when it was the lifeblood of another who'd stolen lives. So, murderers were worth exponentially more as sacrifices to him. Far more than sacrificing each of the people individually. Hence the stupid amount of serial killers in this neighborhood.

"I wonder if Quil is their administrator," Oliver mused as he continued to skim the religious text. "It sounds like a dangerous enemy. And according to this thing, the entity speaks into the minds of its devotees and even can puppet them."

His words went unanswered in the grim temple chamber. No Ben to give him a detailed run down on the enemy's history. No Kiki to suggest they stab it. Just silence.

Oliver tossed the little book back onto the pew and continued on his way. He'd found nothing worth looting in this room.

An empty prison cell. Another padded place of worship. A library filled exclusively with those black books from the chapel. A musical chamber with weird instruments carved from antlers. Oliver passed through all of these before he finally arrived at his objective. All while not encountering a single soul. The treasure chamber revealed why.

Oliver had visited catacombs before. Even as a child, before the experiment, he'd toured historical sites with his father. The macabre interior decoration formed of human remains had scared him at first, but he got over it quickly. Bone decorations were a common motif in the Nightmare Biome as well. Nearly always, Oliver strongly preferred bleached bones over the alternative states of decay. Bones didn't stink. But today, Oliver's stomach would have taken the reek of a hundred rancid bodies rather than let his eyes bear witness to the display spread before him.

Millions of bones, from what must be ten thousand people. Gender was ambiguous as he stared at the display. Age was not.

At the back, he could see fancy patterns made of bones along the walls. Those were ancient and cracked human remains. But the bulk of what was in front of him was nothing more than a massive heap of death. It was all picked clean, white as snow. He knew instinctually that this was where most of the biome’s people had disappeared to. Some sort of grand sacrifice. Perhaps it was a means in which to counter James’s slaughter of their people. If so, it appeared the ill-fated ritual had backfired.

Oliver kneeled down and picked up a tiny bone, no larger than a chicken bone. Only, he knew poultry anatomy well enough to know this didn’t belong to any bird. He thought back to those family photos in the first home he’d scavenged, the infant resting in the mother’s arms while they posed for an awkward family photo.

The bone snapped between his fingers and fell to join the thousands of others at his feet.

At that moment, he genuinely considered walking away from the atrocity. Then he discarded the thought. He wouldn’t be much of a [Grave Robber] if he let some bones get between himself. These people deserved vengeance. And they deserved to be seen.

Also, his quest remained active. It seemed to require an explanation for completion. The remains of the neighborhood wasn't enough.

He waded his way through the lake of bones in the direction of the far door. A skull, glowing green, acted as the arc's keystone. With its jaw hanging loose from its face, Oliver thought the thing was laughing at him as he approached.

His fingers twitched, the temptation strong to draw and fire his blunderbuss. He resisted and shoved his way through the bleached bones until he stood at the foot of the arch.

“You have a riddle for me?” he called up to the green skull. “Or is this more of a password system?”

The skull’s jaw twitched. “The great master has departed.”

Oliver shifted his footing. Knee-deep in bones, he was far from in an ideal fighting stance. He’d only have a single shot from his blunderbuss before he was required to reload. The skull’s height was reachable if he extended his reach with his shovel, but he wouldn’t be capable of bringing his full force down on it effectively from this angle.

“Peace, mortal. The ritual is complete. There is no reason for us to battle,” the skull said.

Oliver remained on guard and skeptical. He’d spoken to enough disembodied skulls in the past five years to know that they were all liars and cheats.

“So, I can pass under your threshold?” Oliver asked. “You won’t attempt to disintegrate me?”

“What good is disintegration for ritual magic? Bah. I take payment for my master in flesh and blood, not dust.”

Oliver crossed his arms, unamused.

“Fine, fine. Yes, I won’t peel your skin off. My master has already moved on from this plane of existence and has no need of your meat to satiate his desires.”

“Where is your master?” Oliver asked.

“After a legendary battle, he made a pact with a powerful mortal. The mortal took him away from this land.”

Oliver frowned. If this evil god was the administrator of this biome, then he shouldn’t be permitted to exit. Of course, that was just based on what he knew from his brief exchange with the Vampire Lord and Ben’s monologues. Both of whom were unreliable sources of information.

“What’s inside the chamber beyond you?”

“Eh. It’s a crypt for all of the prophets. They're the sort who like being buried with mortal treasures. The outsider took some stuff, but only what he could carry. Should be plenty left over.”

Oliver’s eyes gleamed at the word ‘crypt.’ There were few things that got his heart pumping quite like a grave full of treasure ready for him to rob. It very nearly helped him get over his irritation and anger with Ben.

The door under the skull creaked open. The dark chamber revealed very little of the room’s contents. Oliver picked up a bone and tossed it through the threshold. It clattered to the ground, unmolested by any traps.

“I told you, I’m not going to blast you or anything. My master has departed and will never return. The treasure is yours to take.”

Despite his better judgement, Oliver stepped into the room. Like the rooms before it, torches burst into life as he stepped through the threshold. He instinctively lifted an arm to protect his eyes from the sudden burst of light.

“Oh, I forgot to mention. The mortal who visited earlier didn’t finish eliminating all of the prophets. Good luck!”

The door slammed shut at his heels.