Museum of Grimoire - 4.3 - Early Access (Patreon)

The group wasted no time and proceeded to the grand cathedral without any further delay, passing by many other members of the cloth on the way. Thankfully, it seemed like the most they were willing to do was give heated glares, unwilling to escalate any further when the saint herself had given approval for this foray. It was rather surprising how quickly word had spread, or perhaps that was simply how fast the saint’s own network operated.

It also could simply be the sight of her glowering champion which made the way into the bastion so easy.

The easy passage could not last forever though. Once they were past those occupied and ‘civilized’ halls, the three found the way into the depths just as rough as what had been described. The illuminated halls and soft tapestries were replaced by flickering torches and half-finished stonework, proof that even those who had built the monument to faith above had limits too. Much to their own disappointment, supposing that the current theory about their efforts were true.

“This is surely additional proof to the idea that graves of the Fifth Age would attempt to penetrate even deeper below the ground,” Noire remarked, examining the half-completed walls they passed by. “I wonder though, if they perhaps had taken off more than they could handle by building such an impressive thing on top. Because assuming that this paradigm holds true, that means they intended for the underground to be doubly impressive so.”

“Well, what we saw up there was already pretty well-developed,” Florence pointed out. “It’s enough that the Followers of the Divine could devote the entire above-ground space to worship, and have those few levels below as the actual headquarters. Though um, I’ll say it surely must be a little cramped to spend that much time underground in an office. I don’t even understand how some can bear to live in it.”

“I don’t get it either.” The historian paused and made a face. “Which is quite rich, coming from me of all people. Photios, could you perhaps shed some light on the matter?”

“...It’s not just workspace and living quarters,” the paladin noted in a matter-of-fact tone. “There are vaults and training spaces below. Places to learn miracles and temper your faith in private, where only the gods can judge your failures.”

“You sound like you have experience with it.”

“I do.” He didn’t elaborate further, though not necessarily out of choice. It might be simply have been necessary for him to focus as he threw out his hand, stopping the two guests of the saint from proceeding further. “Halt. I sense something lurking ahead, hiding in the dark. They may be looking to ambush us.”

“You’re right,” confirmed Florence after a moment of consultation with her patron. “Death lurks, but it’s not the same kind as what we encountered at the tomb. This feels more… buried. Latent, like a rat scurrying about- ah.”

“Tesso,” Noire guessed with a hum. “Rat monsters, hmm. Now how did they get here? I’m curious on that regard, given it’s surely impossible for them to slip through so many priests above.”

“You never know, they are quite sneaky aren’t they?” the warlock muttered, manifesting her staff and concentrating on her bond. “Befitting of those who skulk in the dark.”

“Then I will bring the light to them.” Photios drew his sword and shield and advanced without further comment, leading to the others to pick up the pace. He strode forwards without seeming heed or care about the detected ambush, instead grasping his weapons tighter as his eyes squarely locked forwards. “For this-”

With a screech that sounded like a squeak, the monstrous rats threw themselves forwards at the paladin, crude daggers glinting in the dark. Before they could strike, his arms exploded up and caught the coordinated assault in a perfect parry, flinging them away and into the nearby walls. Briefly dazed, the monsters tried to recover- only to recoil when the hall was suddenly illuminated by the paladin’s glowing weapons.

“- is naught but a trial of the divine!” the man roared with fervor that hadn’t been witnessed by the surprise women behind. His blade darted out and ended the life of one tesso with a perfect stab to their throat. Then his shield swung out and smacked the other back down the corridor, where they ran away. “Come, all sinners and evildoers! Come and perish in the name of my gods!”

“Woah, so is this his real self? Or just him when he gets worked up?” Florence questioned in a low voice, trying her best to keep up with his seeming crusade into the dark. “I mean, I didn’t doubt he was a good fighter based on the fact that he guards the saint. But at the same time, Tillith hardly much needs so much protection, does she?”

“I’d wager that she probably fights the same way as he does,” Noire noted, eyes narrowing ever so slightly with mild suspicion. “Quite the parallel isn’t it, hmm.”

The warlock knew from that tone that the archaeologist was perhaps sticking her nose a bit too deeply into a possible mystery she shouldn’t be involved in. But any protest about that had to be saved for later, not when it looked like the monsters had decided to try a new attack after their failed ambush. A horrid chittering echoed through the mix of rough stone and brick, heralding a veritable host of giant rats wielding weapons that threw themselves forwards. They screeched and attacked the armored figure standing in their path, utilizing rough stones or natural claws in an attempt to break down the paladin.

In response, Photios gritted his teeth and braced his glowing shield, facing squarely forwards. The monsters hurled themselves against the barrier and found no purchase, their attacks unable to do even a scratch to the protective equipment. Only their ferocity, their willingness to launch strike after strike prevented him from striking back with his blade.

So he instead used his tongue to lash at them with. “I am the bastion of faith, that which the likes of you would be unable to mar! The righteous wall that will hold, for as long as it takes to triumph against wrong!” Photios roared in their faces, drawing all their hateful gazes upon him with his taunt. “Do your worst, so that you may behold the futility of your efforts!”

Their total focus on him meant that those behind him could act unhampered in their preparations. Though all Noire did was cast a quick energy boost onto Florence, a simple and rudimentary transfer of energy that was honestly quite inefficient. The formulas were clear in that for however much the caster donated, the recipient gained only a portion of.

For the former librarian then, it was simply a matter of scaling to make it a worthwhile buff so.

Florence gripped her staff and focused, her eyes briefly borrowed by her patron to delight in the sight of these churning beasts. The lingering aftereffect made it so that the warlock could see the gaps in their line, the openings in which her scythe would cut through and reap them all. It took a few swings for the besieging monsters to realize the true threat, but it was too late. Their numbers had been greatly reduced already to just a few that dared to stand before the defender of light and the wielder of death.

So their spirit shattered and they turned to run, scurrying away with panicked shrieks. Both Photios and Florence remained on guard, in case there was perhaps a second wave, but it looked like that was it. Still, they kept their arms at the ready as they slowly followed the routed force, careful surveying the dark path ahead. It was not until the way opened up into a larger cavern did they stop to assess their surroundings in greater detail.

“This can’t have been part of the intended construction project,” Florence guessed, looking at the very rough and jagged environment. “Even if the sections before were incomplete, this is something almost entirely different.

“I have to agree,” chimed Noire, studying the walls. “There’s none of that technique utilized by the builders that we’ve seen. It also looks far more recent, there’s less weathering than the other parts.”

“That’s likely because the tesso had tunneled their way in to build their burrow,” Photios said, voice returning to a flat tone compared to his fiery battle persona. “It is a known occurrence here in the depths, where our patrols rarely reach. Monsters establish dens and we tear them down whenever we find them.”

“Really? So the Followers of the Divine can’t even secure their headquarters from what lurks below?”

The paladin looked at the warlock and gave a slightly derisive sniff. “I would say that it is only because of our efforts that this perfect habitat hasn’t overflowed with errant beasts. It was not so long ago that we were very short of hands thanks to the demon lord as well, so perhaps they have grown bolder while our attention was directed elsewhere.”

“I also imagine that perhaps some are permitted to settle and expand, as it gives an excellent setting to pit your acolytes and initiates against safe encounters. Relatively ‘safe’ speaking, that is,” Noire amended a moment later. “You can never be too sure with monsters.”

“That is true. Sometimes, we task the freshly inducted with accompanying an expedition into the deep.”

“It’s not too far from what the old graduation exam from the academy entailed, the one where you kill a demon.”

“Demons, monsters- all rather nebulous categorizations don’t you think?” mused the archaeologist as she picked up a rock and studied it about. “There’s so much about this world that still is left undefined, shapes casting the shadows that we only see and label. So much that we just don’t know about the natural order of things, if there is even any semblance of organization to it all.

“There were attempts made in the Sixth Age with a surge in historical interest, but like so many things, the events of the Seventh undid it all…”

“Why does it even matter?” sharply asked Photios, surprising the two guests. “Monsters are simply that, enemies of civilization that must be defeated at all costs. Merely trials that the spirits set before us, to prove we are worthy of their blessings.”

“That is one way of interpreting it, I suppose. Especially when it does feel at times to be rather spontaneous and ordained.” Noire raised an eyebrow. “Are you not at least curious though, to discover perhaps like the mechanisms and capabilities of their growth? A public repository regarding their known weaknesses even?”

“…I could see that being handy,” he admitted, though Photios still shook his head. “If it is made an available resource, then I suppose that it would be a sin not to accept knowledge freely given. All the same, if your efforts come to naught, I shan’t waste time despairing what could have been. Only that I still stand, defender of the faith as need be.”

“I see. At least you’re open-minded about it.”