Quinn barely had time to react. He raised his shield just in time as the statue's hand clamped down on its rim, nearly bending the metal inward. Quinn threw his weight forward and bashed into the statue. The impact echoed through the hall like a thunderclap.
He lowered his shield, expecting to see at least a crack running along the statue's body.
There was nothing.
'It's sturdy.'
The construct zoomed past Quinn without fear, its arms and legs conjoining into a whirling flurry of slashes. Metal screeched against stone, making Quinn wince. The statue countered, kicking the construct away. It slammed into the wall, barely managing to roll aside as the statue followed up with a spear thrust. The construct began narrowly dodging the statue's relentless attacks.
Rhosyn slapped a hand against Quinn's back, muttering hurried prayers under her breath. Quinn felt it immediately—his body growing sturdier, heavier, as if his flesh had turned to stone.
"I've applied Lifeward to you. It won't make you invincible, but you're the only one with a chance of beating that thing. Do you know Reinforcement?"
Quinn nodded. "Who doesn't?"
Rhosyn didn't answer. "Use it."
Quinn turned back to the statue. He steadied his rapid breathing and focused on the mana within him, circulating it, letting it pool in his muscles and bones. This was Reinforcement: the basic art of using mana to slightly enhance the body. The first step toward any real mana control.
Confidence swelled in his chest.
I can win.
He searched for an opening in the statue's movements. The construct failed to dodge the next strike as the valkyrie poured more force into its spear.
There!
Quinn knocked the attack aside. His right hand clenched into a fist as he funneled most of his mana into it. A gentle white glow shimmered across his knuckles. He swung in a wide arc, smashing into the valkyrie's shoulder. Stone cracked. Quinn didn't relent—another punch to the chest, another that chipped the statue's chin. Each blow sent the valkyrie staggering backward.
Quinn grinned, abandoning his earlier caution. He could shatter this statue here and now.
RING
His focus faltered for just a moment. The ringing of the disks reminded him of how little time they had left.
That moment was all the statue needed.
It lunged forward, catching Quinn off guard. Pain exploded through his arm as it attempted to tear it off his shoulder. Quinn hurriedly bashed it with the shield. He stumbled back, using the shield as support so he didn't fall onto his knees. Blood poured from the ghastly wound; his arm was only hanging on thin threads of flesh.
'Shit!'
Quinn was losing focus. His head filled with anxiety, with fear. His nose took in the scent of copper. A familiar smell from when he toured the workshop in his family's estate. His eyes would not tear away from the wound.
"Move!" A voice shouted.
His hand refused to lift. The valkyrie was already closing in. His feet felt rooted to the stone.
"MOVE!"
The construct leapt in front of him. The spear pierced straight through its head, the tip losing just enough momentum to stop short of Quinn.
Quinn snapped back to himself. He forced his mana to move, pushing through the pain and into his shield. The energy concentrated—not just across its surface, but into the spike protruding from it.
The valkyrie couldn't retreat in time.
The spike punched clean through its body. Cracks spiderwebbed across its limbs.
"Duck!"
Quinn threw himself to the ground. The construct moved just as quickly. One of the few advantages of being a construct was its resilience—unless the core was destroyed, it simply wouldn't die. In close combat, it was a menace.
Energy surged through the air. A massive arrow streaked forward, striking the valkyrie's head. The statue shattered completely.
Rhosyn had been silent the entire time, preparing that spell.
Quinn pushed himself upright. The construct did the same. It walked over to its severed head, picked it up, and set it back onto its neck.
"…Eh?"
With a series of clicks, the head adjusted itself into place. The construct looked as good as new.
Quinn was too exhausted—and in too much pain—to question it. Rhosyn muttered under her breath as a soft green glow enveloped his wound. The bleeding slowed, and the pain dulled to a manageable throb.
"It'll only keep the wound from getting worse. Let's go."
"Yes, ma'am," Quinn replied weakly.
He secured his shield and followed Rhosyn as she sprinted down the corridors. The construct followed close behind. By the time they reached the bottom of the stairwell, the disks were ringing continuously. The walls began to shift, stone grinding against stone. Quinn had no desire to discover what would happen if they were caught inside.
Sunlight burst into view. Quinn didn't slow until he was clear of the stairway, stumbling out with a relieved groan. He bent over, hand on his knee, drawing in deep breaths.
"Running in armor is absolutely terrible."
"I'm starting to understand why so many people advise against wearing robes."
They turned to each other and broke into quiet laughter. The construct lingered behind them, unknowingly mimicking the rise and fall of their shoulders.
In the distance, Palis approached with the wagon. Their first expedition had been a success—and a profitable one.
***
The tavern roared with cheering warriors, shy and hesitant priests and mages, and the occasional calm paladin. Quinn wasn't particularly fond of alcohol, but the food more than made up for it. Fruits harvested from dungeon gardens and the lush fields of Liran filled a wide bowl. A massive platter of meat, coated in herbs and spices, dominated the table. Fresh bread and pastries sat nearby, accompanied by mugs brimming with beer.
Quinn grabbed a still-smoking strip of meat. He blew on it lightly before biting in. It was perfectly tender, melting in his mouth. His eyes nearly shone with gluttony—something Rhosyn, already working on her fifth mug of beer, noticed.
"That's griffin meat," she said. "Palis told me the party that killed it spent nearly two days dragging the body out."
Quinn raised an eyebrow, his right arm moving cautiously. Palis had nearly fainted at the sight of his injury and rushed him straight to a temple. Additive Lifeward magic had repaired it, but it was still weak. He'd need a few days before it fully recovered.
"I thought elves disliked eating meat," Quinn said. "With all that nature-preserving and whatnot."
Rhosyn chuckled, tearing into a piece of griffin meat herself. "Predators and prey are part of nature. As long as it's regulated, hunting is seen as healthy. Too much of anything ruins the balance. Besides, the dungeon never seems to run out of monsters, does it?"
She sighed dreamily after a bite. Quinn glanced at his own food.
"I suppose not… I never thought about it that way."
"Will you tell me about your family?" Quinn asked.
Rhosyn paused, her eyes widening slightly. After a moment, she resumed chewing, then swallowed and took another drink.
"Most of them died exploring dungeons. Elves are curious by nature, and dungeons are vaults of knowledge waiting to be uncovered."
Quinn lowered his head. "I'm sorry."
She patted his uninjured shoulder, her touch playfully rough. "Don't be. They died seeking understanding. If only all elves were so lucky. Some just wither into apathy after losing friends of other races. A long lifespan isn't always a blessing."
Quinn glanced at her. "Will you wither away in apathy when I die?"
Rhosyn chuckled, shaking her head. "If you live up to your goals, I'll be too busy being sick of your face plastered on bronze statues across the world."