Exalted Fate: ch 15 not edited yet (rough draft) (Patreon)

Chapter 15: Challenges

The college lobby atrium was quiet, pin-drop quiet. Students were present in their colorful day attire, forgoing the black and gold of imperial college uniforms for anything more expressive. Bronze-gilded doors opened onto a sea of eyes staring at me. The sea parted directly toward the dungeon lobby stairs.

Leonard stood in my path, all vain pride and contempt. Well, here we go, fucking moron, charging headlong into death. Shit, I don’t want Tiffany or Adila as acting wives…

Leonard stepped forward, and I met him without a falter or stop of my footfalls. His gold braid snapped against his shoulder as he tossed back his cloak. The room held its breath.

“I, Prince Leonard Palebreaker the Third, do formally issue challenge to Exalted Lord Eric Grayson,” he said, voice loud and petulant, his chin jutting with theatrical indignation. “By ancient rite of Godhead Ack lord of Heaven and blood and sovereign imperial law. Einvigi Holmgang. A fight to the death. The winner claims all the other owns. Titles, holdings, wives, slaves, and legacy. Do you accept?”

The atrium was silent.

I didn’t move. "I accept."

Gasps rippled through the students.

Ashley stepped forward, voice clear and cutting. "The challenge is acknowledged. But as decreed by Imperial Seneschal Calthorpe on behalf of His Exalted Majesty, the date is already set."

Rachel’s tone followed, precise and measured. "Midness, October 20th. At the Grand Imperial Arena, on the black sands, under full imperial oversight. That is the imperial directive."

Leonard’s jaw clenched. His face twitched—offended that anyone dared remember what had already been decided, overshadowing his authority.

"I don’t see why we must wait," he snapped, voice rising. "Why give the mongrel time to prepare? Cowards need time. I don’t. I’m ready now. Let the blood spill today."

"You’ll wait," I said. “You’ll wait because the Seneschal commanded it. And because without that date, there’s no official sanction. Which means no empire protection for your honor when I kill you.”

Leonard’s hand twitched toward his sword, but he held it. Barely.

"You think this ends with rules?" His voice cracked with false superiority. "You’ll regret the delay. All it does is stretch your agony."

I stepped past him. "Try not to cry before the crowd sees you bleed."

Ashley brushed past him next, smiling without warmth. “Do get your affairs in order, Leonard. No one wants to inherit your embarrassment.”

Rachel didn’t spare him a glance. “We’ll see you at the arena.”

Leonard’s eyes burned as his fury chased us down the stairs.

Fool. That was my only thought.

The Titans Sheild was waiting for me. Their smiles were barely concealed as they hid their humor. They must have had to pass Leonard on the way down.

“We’ll take the servant's exit. See you at home?“ Ashley asked, holding my hand.

“Yeah, sounds good. This Should not take me too long,” I said, pulling her in for a kiss before letting her go.

“See you soon,” Rachel added, kissing me and leaving with Ashley. They went through a side door with a slave attendant guiding them.

I reached Titus, “Will Exalted Lady Ashley and Exalted Lady Rachel be joining us today?”

“No, they have business readying the House of Stars. Is your team ready?” I asked, adjusting my armor.

“Always Exalted lord Grayson,” Titus said with a formal bow.

The dungeon portal blazed to life, and we were once more pulling into a high frame rate of time. Twisting the fabric of reality to once more enter the dungeon of the Legion. Of which I am now champion….

Individual Statistical Analyses.

—

Name: Eric Grayson.

Imperial rank: Exalted Lord.

Race: Human.

Level: Level 40 45,101 XP / 100,000 XP.

—

Titles:

Deed Holder to the House of Stars.

Legion Champion (hidden).

Primal Fire blessed (hidden).

Abyssal Adversary (hiiiidddeeennn*$#@-the Abyss knows all).

The cathedral atrium of Rakthanos bloomed before us as we stepped into the holy forge of the primal fire god. The holy silence of dormant forges echoed back our footfalls as we approached the high altar forge. The memory of metal drifted in the air, the smell as faint as Rakthanos’s power. His small orange flame flickered at the feet of the statue made in the likeness of his former glory.

“WHO DARES!!!... Oh, it’s you.” His little flame body appeared atop the anvil altar. “Get a good sleep? Ready to collect a few adamantium coins? Just a little abyssal monster to fight, and you’ll be on your way.”

"About that." I eyed the little flame. "What exactly are we walking into? Details would be nice before I send my people to fight an abyssal horror."

"Hmm, details?" Rakthanos's flame body tilted to one side. "Think of a Kraken, but made of darkness that burns cold. Think of eyes that see through time rather than space. Think of—"

"Less poetry, more tactics. I hate fighting the tainted dungeon creatures…" Titus cut in, checking his gladius.

The flame sputtered. "Fine. The chamber is circular, about two hundred paces across. The creature stays mostly in the center pool—a black liquid that isn't quite water… isn't... well, we don’t know, Legion and me… When disturbed, it erupts with tentacles—twelve main ones, each thicker than your torso."

Branwen tested the feathers on an arrow. "Weaknesses?"

"Fire hurts it, ironically. Cold strengthens it. The eyes are vulnerable—there are seven primary ones, each the size of a dinner plate. They glow purple." Rakthanos bounced nervously. "Oh, and don't let it speak to you. If you hear whispers in your mind, chant something, anything—nursery rhymes work well."

"Speak to us?" I frowned. "It can get in our heads?"

"Only if you listen. Only if you focus on what it says." The flame dimmed. "It knows things it shouldn't. Things that haven't happened yet. Things that happened but didn't. The Abyss touches all realities at once."

Lucius grunted. "So don't listen to the monster. Not exactly revolutionary advice."

"You'd be surprised how many warriors fail that simple task," Rakthanos replied dryly.

“Right ear plugs. The coins, we kill it, and they appear?” I asked.

Rakthanos brightened, “Yes. It will fall onto the dormant cradle of eternity. A fancy name for a broken rock.”

“What is…”

“Don’t bother. It’s more involved than you have time for. Legion knows you are up against the emperor’s time deadline. He wants you to get that over with so your real quest can start.” Rakthanos said.

I looked at my team, and they shook their heads. They had no idea either. “Right. So, kill the squid of nightmares, don’t listen to it whispering cosmic spoilers, stab its giant eyeballs, and then… what, pick up the loot and try not to go insane?” I asked.

Rakthanos pulsed with what I assumed was approval. “Now you’re getting it. Kill, claim, repeat. Four times. It will start to remember you.”

“Remember me?” That does not sound good. “You mean like… targeting me?”

“I mean wanting you, hungering…” Rakthanos said, his tone losing all trace of humor. “The Abyss doesn’t forget champions. It— adopts them and tries to corrupt them. Legion is barely holding on as it stands. Eric, if the abyss clams you, not only the dungeon will be lost to it.”

I turned to Titus and the rest of the Titan's shield. “You don’t have to. Titus, Branwen, Lucius, Chariklia and Clymiphae. This goes above and beyond.”

“Will want to know more about what is going on,” Titus said as he stared into the eyes of each of his team. They all nodded. “We’re with you, Lord Eric.” His pronouncement was final, a declaration that echoed along our merging strands of fate.

“I don’t know what to say, but thank you.” I met each of the Titans Shields eyes and nodded. An affirmation of our bond. “No time like the present… So, the rifts…” I filled Titus in on everything I had learned from Montfort, the system quest, and what Rachel, Ashley, and I were working on.

“By the gods and holy system… a true quest,” Lucus said, forgoing his colorful swearing for something approaching faithful reverence.

“We knew you were special, just not how special.” Branwen raised her head and shook it as the knowledge of just what they had gotten into settled on her.

“Will go then to close the rift,” Clymiphae asked Titus.

“Yes, technically, we can’t help him close the rift, but we can guard him until he gets there.” He said finding a loophole in the emperor’s edict.

“No point waiting around,” Chariklia said, pointing at the hallway that would lead to the storeroom and our little corrupted dungeon creature.

“Right, let’s do this then. Rakthanos, Thank you. You’re a very helpful primordial fire god, no matter what budget cuts you’re going through.”

“Kind of you to notice, Mr. Champion of the dungeon Legion. Good luck.” His voice wavered. The inflection was just short of outright confidence.

"I'll take all the luck I can get," I said, turning toward the hallway.

We walked down the hallway, our footsteps echoing against marble that darkened with each step. The pristine white stone gave way to veins black. They pulsated, at least when I saw them through my peripheral. When I looked at them directly, they seemed a solid obsidian that did not reflect light.

"Eyes sharp," Titus commanded, shield raised as he took point. "Formation tight."

The darkness pressed against me. Fear became a living thing, testing my resolve. Each step echoed too loudly, then not at all. My mana was at the edge of my awareness, ready to act with all its force in a split second.

The hallway twisted and curved downward. Sconces that once held holy flame only held darkness now. The natural dungeon glow was still there, a light that soaked the area rather than casting, but where the black shit was, the dungeon light died.

"Temperature's dropping," Branwen whispered, her breath visible now. "Not natural."

I felt it, too. A creeping cold that bypassed armor and skin, settling directly into bone. My Earth affinity rebelled against it, mana churning uneasily beneath my skin. I could feel the wrongness of it.

The hallway opened to a small anti-chamber before a door that was once beautiful. Now it sat rusted and cracked, the gap between the massive slabs of metal opening into a vast circular chamber. Rakthanos hadn't exaggerated. IT had to have been two hundred paces across at least, with walls that curved upward into shadow. The floor sloped gently toward a central depression filled with liquid darkness.

"Gods," Chariklia breathed. "It smells wrong."

She was right. The air carried a foul, wrong scent. It reeked of rot, dark deeds, and emptiness— my soul smelled it, the void, the edge of madness, sweet and profane. “Ready?”

“Ready. Spread out. Eric, you're with me.” Titus said, his voice mingling with the darkness.

The black glass of the pool’s surface remained still. No ripple. No breath. Watching. “It’s watching,” I said, stepping closer to the edge of the pool, spear ready, and Titus by my side as the rest of the team fand out.

"Come on then," I muttered. "Let's get this over..."

The first tentacle erupted. No splash, no warning— existence where there had been none. It lashed out with impossible speed.

I rolled left as Titus's shield intercepted the blow. The impact sent him skidding backward, boots scraping against stone. Armor ringing from the impact.

You came. You always come.

The voice slithered through my thoughts, oily and familiar. I shook my head violently. Oh, fuck this… Fuck you…

Fuck me…Mmm, oh, yes… our child is…

Tentacles thrashed from the pool. Thump, Boom echoed as Branwen’s arrows sunk deep.

I thrust my spear forward, channeling fire mana through the shaft. My plasma beam erupted from the tip. The tentacle recoiled, its surface crackling like burnt paper.

AHH! Mother waits for…

“I need to…” I screamed out loud, focusing on my voice. My plasma beam bounced off the surface of the pool, “Shit, out of the pool!” I needed it out of the pool if I was going to kill it. 

Branwen sang as her arrows flew, “Stone is strong, and fire is bright,”

Clymiphae answered as she danced with her spear and shield, “Howl by night, Shadows flee from honest light,” she moved, hooves pounding the stone as tentacles raced toward her.

Chariklia bellowed, “Water hums and wind will cry, count to one and speak no lies,” her axe cleaved through a tentacle. The splatters of blood hissed and steamed. Droplets from the pool splattered, freezing, but not cold, fracturing time.

Again! Again! More! Lost more! Lost more!

Titus and Lucius just growled, an endless low rumble. Due to their body stat, the sound vibrated the air, echoing from the walls.

I pushed against the thing whispering in my mind. I dodged right as a tentacle shot over my head. From my knee, I let another plasma beam out from the tip of my spear, holding it for longer, burning and slicing through the flailing slimy thing.

It rose from the pool, eyes exposed, and the world bent around them.

Seven eyes breached the surface like moons torn from the sky—vast, purple, and veined with black cracks, living fault lines in time that pulsed. They did not blink. They did not shine. They drank the light. And in their depths, I saw things that had never been but might be. My death. My rebirth. My wives, butchered. My world, Earth, swallowed whole.

The creature followed, dragging its impossible mass from the pool like it was crawling out of the world’s wound. The tentacles were only the beginning—long, oil-slick limbs that bent with hidden joints and clawed ridges. Each one left black frost across the floor where it touched, icing reality in layered flakes of frozen time.

It saw me then, all seven eyes focusing on me, around me, on the paths forward and backward. I had no way of traveling. Not good, not good, just focus more on the fundamentals…

“PRIME! TASTY! PRIME!”

Its scream made something in the world, in the universe, shudder. A cosmic understanding beyond the mortal threshold. Constrict the plasma, magnetic coiling all the way to its ugly face…

“PRIME! TASTY!”

“Electricity!” I screamed back at it. I let the full force of my spell hit it dead center.

The beam super-heated the air, and the plasm contained in the magnetic coils burned into the center of the fucked-up thing. Along the charged path of the super-heated particles, I dumped all my mana into electrocuting the fuck out of it.

It did not flail or spasm. It froze, motionless, as the arching power from my mana blazed through it. It smoked. Frying from the inside.

The room was lit blue and white, fluorescent in the brilliance from the lightning I poured into the thing.

The female voice whispered the system message.

You have learned the spell: lightning. Level 1. Error… 0.1

“I can feel it, something!” it was there inside of it, where my lightning burned. It was dead, close to it anyway. Just a dozen more seconds of this, and it would be little more than a pool of liquid ash and goo. No, that’s, that’s the dungeon… then there, oh shit, that’s the growth. A… fuck, the lightning is not even touching it. There’s got to be a way…

The growth pulsed like a shadow within shadow—a darker nothing at the creature's core. My lightning cut through the outer shell but scattered around this inner shard of corruption, water flowing around abyssal stone.

YOU… CANNOT… UNMAKE WHAT… NEVER WAS…

The hissing shriek filled the chamber as the creature melted. Water flowing to ash to be scattered on the wind.

“Close your ears and shut your eyes. If the dark begins to sing— gods break the binding.” Chariklia and Clymiphae finished, the shattering of warped ice fading with their words.

The pool where the creature had been receded, a stone pillar emerged from the pool's surface—ancient, cracked, and gleaming dull white. A single dark coin lit from its own inner radiance fell atop it.

"The adamantium," Titus breathed, lowering his shield, “I’ve only ever seen two of them.”

No one moved.

I stared at the coin. One tiny disk of material worth more than a king's ransom. "Take it," Branwen urged, her voice barely above a whisper.

Spear at the ready, I moved forward, hesitant, and stretched out my hand. I took the coin. It was cold, not as ice, but as if heat and motion were absent from the thing. It was somehow more solid than anything else I had held before, more real, more fundamental.

"YOURS NOW," whispered the fading darkness. The dungeon light blazed into the room, hallow, seeking to claim what had been taken over by the corruption that perverted its storeroom.

The creature’s not dead. As soon as we leave, it will reform, and with more of that… what is that stuff… in it.

“We had best go speak to Rakthanos. I felt something.” I said, moving toward the broken doors, the passage back still as black and foul as it had been.

The cathedral's light blazed as bright as the sun compared to the darkness of the hallway. The back of the statue of Rakthanos was as detailed as the front, muscles bulging as he raised his hammer high.

Rakthanos blazed to life atop the anvil altar, his little fire body doing a little jig. “You survived, well done!” his surprise was more than a little concerning.

“You doubted?” I asked.

“Well, noooo…. No way, not from the dungeons champion.” He did not reassure me.

“Right, well, we did. Now we just have to do it three more times. I felt something as I killed it. Also, no XP notification either?” I asked.

“Oh, that, well, two things really. You got the XP. It's just… the system has a hard time quantifying it… You’ll probably get a notification in a week or so. Maybe sooner if you're lucky.” He said, sitting on the edge of the anvil and swinging his legs.

“Strange,” I said.

“You don’t know the half of it… what did you feel?” Rakthanos asked.

“Some kind of thing in it, connected to it?”

“You killed it with magic?” He asked.

“Yeah, lightning,” I answered.

“That explains it. You felt the embedded shard of abyssal corruption in the dungeon matrix of the creature blueprint.” He said as if I would know what any of that meant.

“Umm…?” I sat on the big toe of the statue as the others of the Titans shield took positions to rest. “I’ve got no idea what that means?”

“Ah, I suppose you don’t. Well,” Rakthanos hopped up and started pacing on the anvil. “Legion told me to explain some of this to you. The thing he is fighting is not from this universe or this layer of coherent reality either, really.”

“Right, so beyond the borders of the sea of chaos?” I asked.

“Oh, yay, you do know something! Right, you would have had to go through that to get here. The abyss insulated reality from the void, from the endless nothingness of well, nothingness, like skin around all realities. It is not a nice place, not nice at all. been there once don’t ever want to go back.” Rakthanos’s flame shuddered.

“Okay, but why is it here?” I asked, drinking water and snaking on some jerky Strafa had made. The Titan’s shield was eating also.

“Getting there, a very long time ago, or just yesterday, depending on how you perceive time, a dungeon made the abyss its home. No idea why, like I said, not a nice place, certainly not a spot for a summer home. Now that abyssal dungeon sends its seeds, its shards into different realities and takes over dungeons. To eat them. Yummy snacks.”

“So that’s what’s here, some seed shard of this abyssal dungeon? The rifts?”

“Yep, and it’s all tied together in a big wibbly-wobbly knot. Dungeon corruption and abyssal void rifts all tied together.” Rakthanos pointed at me with a firm nod of his head. “that’s where you come in, world walker. You’ve touched the sea of chaos and gained power from it. You can kick out the abyss… exorcize it.”

“How?” I asked.

Rakthanos gave me a deadpan stare, “Not a clue. Hope you can figure it out, though.”

“Shit, okay. New spell time. Any clues? Legion?” I said, looking up.

Rakthanos tilted his head side to side like he was listening to someone, “Humm, okay. Okay. Right. I’ll tell him.” He focused on me once more, “Legion says there is a method—the first and oldest.”

Rakthanos stopped pacing, his flame body oddly still.

“You can burn the corruption out by using the death energy of a bound soul. Kill a slave. Their passing severs the connection between the shard and the matrix. The abyss recoils from mortal expiration—it doesn’t understand sacrifice. It fears it. Or,” Rakthanos added, his voice tightening, “you can offer the slave to the abyss directly. The corruption will take them instead. Trade a life for purity. The coin stays clean. The shard goes dormant. Neat, simple, effective.”

I didn’t respond. Just stared.

“Eric?” Rakthanos prompted, looking nervous now. “Just relaying the options. No judgment.”

“No.”

“No, as in not right now, or—”

“No,” I repeated. “No slave deaths. No death trades. Not as a tool, not as a spell ingredient, not as a bargaining chip.”

The words cut the air, final, severing that as an option.

Rakthanos opened his mouth. The forge dimmed slightly. Rakthanos sat back down on the edge of the anvil, legs swinging. “Well… that’s going to complicate things.”

“Good. If the solution to the abyss is becoming it, we have already lost.”

Titus gave a small nod. “Lines of morality matter, even more so in dungeons.”

I exhaled and rubbed the bridge of my nose. “Next idea, preferably one that doesn’t involve ritual murder or feeding my people to the extradimensional horror?”

Rakthanos grumbled. “Fine, fine. That was the fastest one. But Legion’s got three other ideas. Some of them even involve actual magic but won't be much help to you today.”

“Okay, good, let's hear them,” I said, relieved that I was not going to have to butcher my slaves for some dark, twisted magic shit.

Rakthanos held his little flame finger up, “One, The Sigil of the Ashul-Kai, a handy little artifact created at the time of the… EEEE AAARRR…. Owch, Sorry, can't say that, but the beast kin have it. Or at least they were the last ones to have it.”

“Right, okay, so an item? The other two?” I asked.

“A neckless, yes. The next is called a dungeon unburdened recalling, a dungeon reclamation process. Have you noticed anything about your inspect screen since becoming Legions champion?”

“Nope, I haven’t used it yet.”

“Well, you should. Here, try it on… oh, this hunk of junk.” He said, pointing to a statue near the forge’s edge, a dormant dungeon guardian. It loomed twelve feet tall, its stone frame partially fused to the wall behind it. A long-dead sentry.

“Inspect.”

The interface swam into place with something deeper. Not just stats.

[INSPECT – Enhanced Access Granted: Dungeon Champion Authority]

Designation: Sentinel-Class Construct, Type 3CDungeon ID: Warden-Boreal 7-FFunction: High guard of Rakthanos Cathedral Forge.Affinity: Frost fire.System Integrity: 94%Corruption Index: 0.0%Status: Dormant/ inactive/ no power

Notes: This construct remains linked to the original matrix. Dormancy stable. Designation access granted. The name may be spoken.

“Woah…”

“Yep, perks of being a dungeon champion. To unlock the door, so to say, into the creature, you speak its designation, then… well, you stuff it full of magic and try and attempt an Unburdened Recalling. If it’s too far gone, you won’t even be able to read the name. If you fail or are interrupted while doing the Recalling, well, then one of three things will happen. It’ll detonate—taking you with it. It’ll go berserk and try to rip you apart. Or it will… shatter.” Rakthanos shivered with the last word.

“Not good, I take it, and if it works?” I asked.

“Then the creature is restored to the dungeon. No loyalty to you, but the room has a chance to stabilize. And the abyss might lose a foothold and definitely losses one soldier.”

I nodded slowly. “Speak the name. Feed the mana. Reinforce the link to the dungeon from the inside out.”

“Exactly,” Rakthanos said, proud. “Your arcane affinity gives you the interface, control, and a whole lot of other things. Your summoning lets you open the door, and your charisma forces the dungeon creature to remember what it is.”

“And life?”

“That’s the tether. You’re not reenchanting it. You’re healing it. Healing the bond and link with the dungeon. All very organic.”

I looked at the stone giant once more, then back at Rakthanos. “And this only works if there’s at least forty percent of its original system left?”

“Yes. Any less, and the corruption’s too deep. You’ll see it on the Inspect screen.”

“Okay, something I’ll need to practice, and the third option?”

Rakthanos frowned and shrugged, “Legion says there are system-granted spells that can get the job done. Weird ones that sound like technical enchanter babble nonsense. We’ve got no idea what or even how to get them, so yeah.”

I stood, starting to stretch, “Well fuck, no easy purging of the abyss I can do right now, especially on that thing in the storage room.”

“No, you might manage the unburned Recalling on a lower-level corrupted creature, but no, not that thing, no way. Sorry.” Rakthanos said, an apologetic look on his face.

“Well, how about it up for three more rounds?” I said, turning to the Titans shield. They were already putting away their food and readying their weapons.

Titus spoke, his grizzled voice amused, “Best hurry, Lord Eric, or we’ll beat you to it.” he started walking toward the hallway.

“Shit,” I said, scrambling to grab my spear and throw my water and food into the spatial ring.

Three more coins, here we go.

INSPECT – Enhanced Access Granted: Dungeon Champion Authority

Designation: Sin-ABBByaxxx-Time- A.354-z-Errr

Dungeon ID: Legion – Containment- invalid node link

Classification: Corrupted floor Guardian Entity

Type: Abyss-Touched Abomination

Rank: Sub-Boss (Corruption Core Host)

Level: ??? Unknown (System Error: Unable to Resolve)

Affinity: ??? Unknown — Abyssal override: active.

System Integrity: 0.3Error-3-Error-3-Err-3-err-3-err

Corruption Index: 99. Undefined00.00-00

Core Stability: alpha- beta- hard stop % (Fragmented)

System Binding: Failed

Abyssal Anchor Shard Detected: ACTIVE

Cognitive Intrusion Threat: EXTREME

—WARNING— Singularity Ego = State: Collapsed functions [Whispers manifest across probabilistic timelines]

Risk Status: Catastrophic. Do not engage.

Warning: Dungeon designation unrecoverable. Soul-echo fragmentary. Unburdened Recalling is not possible.

[ Chapter 16, will open with eric in the carriage looking at the four coins, recalling parts of the fight, on the way back to the house of stars covered in a few wounds and smelling wrong, yada yada, details.]