The torch gradually dims, but the light slowly comes back with a backup torch. And with it, the corridors show their shape.
He looks around the walls searching for a hanging torch. And when he turns, Natalak's heart leaps as he sees a skeleton hanging— impaled on the wall.
"I freaking hate this shit!" Natalak said, panting.
Swaying the torch left and right, he notices a bunch of kindles stuck to the wall. With a smile of relief, he quickly ignites the torches. All in all, only five of the twenty were working. The rest, however, are already worn down. Their flames may be frail, but they're enough to give a small clearance in the dark.
The dark force lingering in this void was still arousing his mind and altering Natalak to the point he had to gulp an endurance potion.
Buffing himself, his breath turns purple, reacting to the tainted air. The atmosphere feels different, enough for the chemicals to react with the potion. Thanks to the potion's effect, it was time for him to continue exploring the place.
Before he took a step, he heard a rustling noise. His hand grips tightly, ready for a toe-to-toe with a foe. And when he waits for a moment to move, a crack of rustling sound, as if bones are shaken abruptly.
Stepping for a closer look, drawing his distance to the source of the sound. His eyes met a full skeleton, alive; its parts were intact and connected. The heads turn a full 360 degrees; the spinal cord crumbles as it turns, enough to freak Natalak out.
It's a weapon, a glimmering steel mace.
Before it can engage, Natalak hastily smashes its head, separating it from the skeletal body.
Head decapitated, Natalak was hoping the skeleton wouldn't move no more. Disturbed, the skeletal body moves on its own, rampantly clubbing every corner.
"The hell with this!?" Natalak shouts, trying to find a time to smash its spinal cord that connects its upper body and its lower parts.
Hands are shaking, grips are tightening. And with the right timing, he swings the club, desolating the spinal cord, dividing the headless skeleton in half.
The bones were still moving, but it was already helpless. To fully end the battle, Natalak stomps and smashes the bones, breaking them into pieces—enough to stop the moving skeleton.
Smashing the club into the head of the skeleton, crushing the skull. Looking at the mace, it was still in good condition. Natalak smiled, weary, as he added it to his collection.
An hour and a half passed… within the dungeon. Noise can be heard as bones are being smashed. Mace crushing and smashing the skeletons, and smacking what's left of the skeleton.
Fighting a lesser undead was enough to give him some knowledge and tricks on how to dispose of these types of monsters. Luckily enough, there were no liches and powerful undead spell casters challenging his path.
As fortune favours the bold, Natalak manages to loot another weapon: a small shield, twenty inches in diameter. The shield was old and rusted, but still great for blocking medium and light attacks and good for parrying.
As he treads deeper, skeletons grow in numbers, not just human skeletons, but some are different. Their forms and structure were odd, new to his bestiaries. Some walked on all fours; they were like rodents, but bigger, with spikes of bone as their armour. Fortunately, the hallways became wider and bigger, and there he drew the silver sword.
Testing— the sword cleaves their armour and flesh as if it were but mud.
Halfway into the dungeon, the skeleton slowly changes into a walking corpse.
"What's next, a necromancer?" He scoffs as he charges through the undead.
Their rotten-flesh smell disgusts Natalak, affecting his concentration. From there, he rips out a few clothes for a mask.
Moving the torch, the traveller was looking for something that would filter the smell. By luck, he spots moss growing on the stone. The fluffiness and moisture were good for covering the scent of the dead carcasses.
"I hate this place!" Natalak spits, walking towards one peculiar hallway.
A crumbled entrance door desolated, as if rammed by hordes of monsters and animals. What's more, the smell of the dead was even more intense. A light can be seen illuminating the room.
As Natalak stays at the corner of the entrance, peaking. He saw a pile of dead carcasses: werewolves, snakes, gnolls, and other monsters in a state of decay. It was an unbearable smell of rotting corpses that even his mask couldn't withstand.
After hours of fighting undead, the effect of the potion begins to take effect. In the last stand, Natalak brings out another endurance potion. For some reason, he stares blankly at the potion, hesitating to drink for fear of overdose.
"What the heck, might as well survive this place… To hell with it!"
His body is now steaming with heat; he feels his muscles bulging, ready to burst. And finally, blood begins to drool. In a dilemma, the potion's advantage overlaps with the side effect. Wiping the blood, he slowly walks towards the open room full of corpses, ignoring the smell.
In the chamber of the room, there was a large tree, its roots drilling into the tainted water. The ceiling had a hole that let light shine through the corpses. The water was different… it wasn't black or grey, but it was as red as blood. And the blood was no joke either; it didn't just splatter like normal blood would, instead, it was being absorbed through the roots of the tree.
"Ah…. Who… enters here?" A disembowelled voice echoes within the room.
The moment a voice called, Natalak trembled, yet he didn't utter a single word.
"I can feel… your presence." Said the voice within this room.
Natalak's mouth was silent; he was thinking of burning this corpse to ashes before it could be animated.
He carefully analysed and saw that the rotten corpses were dried, and there was a little bit of oil exuding from the corpse's flesh. Ignoring the voice, he silently put the corpses to the flames. And little by little, the fire slowly engulfs the corpses, spreading in minutes.
"You dare! I will show you what death truly means while I'll suck the blood out of your corpse!" Said the voice echoing from the tree. Its tone is now more vocal and aggressive.
"Try me if you can bitch!" Natalak shout, intimidating the enemy.
And for his intimacy, skeletons and corpses begins to rise from the dead.
"Then you've chosen your best option, then, of death!" Said the voice from the tree.
The unburned corpses begin to rise, flesh falling, bones dislocated. Still, they were enough to lay a good punch, and their rotten mouths are enough to cause diseases.
Dropping the torch, Natalak draws out the weightless sword.
"We'll see about that."
Leaping through a great height, while the dead are slowly animated, Natalak quickly stomps their body. Same as last time, smashing the spinal cord connecting the body and the legs was enough to bring it down. The undead are still alive, yet they are useless when Natalak is cutting them in half.
The mace on his left is used for the undead skeleton. On the right is the weightless sword, sharp enough to decapitate the walking, dried corpses.
Before he can be surrounded, Natalak leaps as high as he can, stepping over the heads of the enemy, gaining distance by hurdling, and avoiding the surrounding attacks. And once he exits their corner, he quickly delivers an attack— slashing, smashing while he moves from one corner to the other, preventing him from being overwhelmed.
Then, suddenly, a decaying werewolf slashes its claws. Fortunately, if the werewolf were still flesh, it would easily mow down Natalak. But with the help of the shield, which tightened to his arms, Natalak was able to block the attack.
A fight for one and all, aggressively diving his weapons towards the hordes of undead. His legs are already injured from the cut of the blade. His body is now taking the side effects of the buff. But it wasn't enough to bring him down, as he continued to bathe in fighting.
Dramatically, the fire burns the corpse, and the voice from the tree is now a fretting.
"Why won't you die!"
"I should be the one asking you." Natalak vomits blood— it looks like the overdose is taking its effect.
Panting heavily to see only a handful of foes are now left, probably fourteen or so. Their movements, however, were slow due to their dislocated and decapitated bodies. Like maggots they were; they slowly step forward—as for Natalak, his hands begin to lose energy. The weight of the shield is now doubled, making it unable to swing a move. And before he could drop the mace, he gathered enough strength and hurled the shield towards the enemy.
Natalak tried to move, but his bones and flesh begins to wobble. He can still feel his body, but it's as if he were boneless, so he can't even command his legs to move. The fire—the fire begins to intensify slowly, creeping towards the tree.
Towards Natalak, he was crawling like a maggot, wriggling his body and putting enough strength into his arms—pulling himself as the undead slowly inch their way into him.
"I'm not dying in this shit hole."
Gradually, their speed outpaced him. Claws digging into his armour, ravenous mouths biting his hands and feet. Before they could rip him apart, a female voice was heard.
"There!" Sheila exclaimed, casting a protective magic towards Natalak.
Suddenly, his skin hardened so that the undead's teeth and claws couldn't penetrate his flesh. A ray of light came to the dying man, and with a smile, Natalak yielded. Body stops moving, relief that death was letting Sheila and her friends do the cleaning.
"The tree, destroy the tree." Natalak whimpers, his hand still holding the weightless sword, unable to let it go, afraid they might take it from him.
"Got it," Sei replied.
The moment of relief, Natalak freely gave in to unconsciousness.
"Wretched mortals! I'll see you all to death once I'm free of this prison!" The tree shouts, panicking for its life, as Sei, Reith, and Sheila easily finish the seven undead.