B3 Chapter 295: The WallStill lost in the joy of victory, Kaius fell back into the hot sand below. His wounds ached—a dozen half-healed holes slowly weeping his thickened blood into the desert—and his armour was hung off him in limp strips.
None of it mattered, not even the soul-deep ache he felt from his utter battering at the hands of the ruinbringer.
They had won, and he felt alive.
It had been an age since he had felt so good, a visceral joy that he had almost forgotten—of that first sweet breath of air as he realised he got to live another day.
Not since his first delve had he been pressed so close to the brink of defeat. Even with a full team and all of their advantages, that scorpion had almost killed him—killed his friends—a dozen times over.
Yet it had fallen before them all the same, and they had been rewarded for their audacity. It might have broken his bones, spilled his blood, and ruptured a handful of his organs, but he was the one who got to live to see another day.
Staring up at the impossible sky, Kaius knew he was mad. He should feel fear at how close death had come, should have shied away from the pain and risk that would come with their next inevitable confrontation. He didn’t, not in the slightest.
Which definitely made him mad.
At least if he was broken, he was having fun with it.
As the raw, itching heat of his natural healing settled into every crevice of his body, Kaius chuckled — tasting blood and feeling a sting deep in his chest as his ribs rose and fell.Hearing footsteps across the sand, Kaius didn’t move. By the end of the battle, only he and Porkchop had been injured, and neither of them were at risk of immediate death—there was no need to shake himself from his post battle bliss, not unless he heard screaming.
A moment later a body blocked out the worst of the sun, drawing his eyes towards a monolith of torn leather and bloody fur. His brother.
Porkchop settled down next to him with a grunt.
“I think the scorpion’s mother was a halberd,” he complained with halfhearted sincerity.
Kaius snorted at the joke, ignoring the burning fire that spread through his chest at the movement.
“Oh? What makes you say that?” Kaius returned to staring at the skies above, still amazed that the System had pulled off such wizardry as to put such a thing underground.
“Because I bloody well feel like I got hit by a couple of dozen of them.”
Kaius grinned, summoning a spare waterskin from his ring and taking a long swig. “Now that you mention it, someone seems to have stolen chunks out of my chest and stomach — perhaps their father was a thief?”
Letting out a rumbling laugh, Porkchop suddenly winced.
“No more jokes until we’re healed, I'm too bloody sore.”
Before Kaius could respond, another shadow passed over his face, and Ianmus entered his view. With the front of his robes utterly encrusted by sand and soaked in blood, the mage looked like he’d been through hell.
Vanishing his staff into his ring, Ianmus sighed and lay down in the sand next to him.
“I don’t know how you two do it.”
“What do you mean?” he replied.
“Practically get torn in half and then come back asking for seconds with a smile on your face. Spire’s Light, one little hole in my stomach and I was out of action for half the damn fight.” Ianmus grumbled.
Kaius grinned, noting that the mage hadn’t said that he’d been scared, or that he’d regretted anything. He was mad too.
“You get used to it.”
“Oh please, you have Pain Resistance — that’s basically cheating.”
Kaius turned his head and cocked an eye at his brother, before taking in the full extent of his injuries—half a dozen bone deep tears in his flesh rippling before Kaius’s eyes as they progressively shrunk. Rotten roots, he really did look like crap.
“Well, welcome to the cheater’s table, because you have it too now.”
Porkchop paused. “Huh, I did think it was a little easier to ignore.”
Rolling his eyes, Kaius turned back to Ianmus.
“So no second thoughts now you’ve had your first major battle-trophy? It’ll happen again, you know — eventually at least,” Kaius said to the mage.
Grinning at the blue sky, Ianmus shook his head. “None at all, my friend, none at all.”
“Though, perhaps we might try to minimize the chances of it happening next time?” he asked after a moment's pause, hopeful.
There was less of a burn in his chest than the last time Kaius laughed, Lesser Regeneration doing its work quickly.
“Yeah, we can do that. I think we made just a little miscalculation when we decided against bringing a charge of War Haven into battle — though with how easily those spines penetrated Porkchop’s armour I’m not sure how effective it will be initially.” he replied, looking over to the shredded slab of steel that was his brother’s Autonomous Greatshield.
Hearing their final member approach, Kaius looked up into their Kenva’s frowning face. Her eyes roved between the three of them contemplatively, like she had been presented with a particularly troublesome riddle.
“Kenva! So nice of you to join us,” Kaius said, throwing his hands in the air.
“How’re you alive?” she questioned. “I’ve seen dressed game in better shape than you.”
“Practice.”
“What he said,” Kaius agreed, nodding seriously.
Their response seemed to take the wind out of Kenva’s sails. She sighed, shoulders slumping, before the bow in her hand vanished and she flopped down to sit on the sand just above their heads.
“We should be dead, you know? That creature was an Elite over double our level, and it took out our healer with its opening move. False coin,” she swore. “It tore the two of you to shreds—both of you should be cold and still from blood loss alone, but you’re all just sitting here like it was a stroll through a new market.”
She gave Ianmus an accusatory look. “I thought you were supposed to be the voice of reason, but you’re just as unphased as they are about having your intestines blown out the middle of your back.”
Ianmus rose one finger, though he did not sit up. “Relative voice of reason. I’m nowhere near as songlusted as these two barbarians.”
Kaius laughed again, this time with only a hint of pain. That was…not inaccurate — they might have had a little bit of a corruptive influence on their mage. It wasn’t like they’d pressured him into it, though. The man hungered after Honours as much as they did.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
The ranger groaned. “You do realise that this is insane right? No matter how many levels we received.”
He frowned, thinking back to the meagre six levels he had received from killing the ruinbringer. It felt…off. Even if it was a large jump to Kenva — it was likely that she’d never fought anything so far above her, even if she had earned a few Honours — their levelling had all but stalled since their initial capture.
“What’s up with that anyway?” he asked, voicing his misgivings. “I would have thought we would have grown far more from a fight like this.”