ZachSkye
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Knives & Levels - Chapter 63
🕑 Added 2025-02-13 19:18:14 +0000 UTCColt braced as the smashing noises got closer; with Jimmy out of his cell, he knew at least his friend was temporarily free. They had to get out of here, but that wasn’t going to happen all that easily. He’d have to find a room and then Cut upward, basically collapsing it in. Doing so right here and right now in this room with the other healers was problematic.
The issue was a long tunnel had led to this place. And he wasn’t quite sure just how far down there were, which made him reluctant to collapse the tunnel to escape. Slinking around the empty corridors in the dark hadn’t given him a great sense of mapping of the interior. In a lot of ways, this reminded him of their first dungeon.
Tunnels upon tunnels, alleys upon alleys. The fact that all of this was neatly tucked under New Nashville was amazing—and made him wonder why.
The scale and depth were confusing, and some parts still felt incomplete like Denny planned for more.
For now, most of the rooms he’d gotten through had been barren. Desks. Stored furniture. Occasionally, something that looked like old labware looted from the city; Denny had plans, but what those plans were other than a convenient hideaway was lost to him.
Didn’t matter.
Colt sucked in a deep breath and gave Jimmy a reassuring wave, to see his friend shaking there, eyes wide with that pallid and scared expression, was heartbreaking. His chest pained as he took in the moment, and then he balled it up and set it aside. Business first.
If only they’d never come here, never accepted being under Denny’s city.
He couldn’t fix the past, but he was damn sure he’d fix the future. Colt strode into the tunnel to the dingy concrete jail where they kept his friend… There were probably two hundred feet of empty tunnel ahead of him.
The odd part was that this tunnel wasn’t haphazardly dug. Not like a dirt tunnel, the walls had reinforced concrete, like a proper construction project from the world before, and nothing like the haphazard city above. It almost reminded him of one of those bunkers he’d seen posted on the internet. A place for someone who had too much wealth and paranoia to build and stock with canned goods, even though the reality was that they wouldn’t last too long if the world came undone.
Despite the oncoming stomps of mystery, Colt couldn’t help but picture how many people had tucked themselves away, even now, in their private bunkers if they made it out of their tutorial dungeon.
The steps got closer. The tunnel shook around him as whatever moved approached.
The lights flicked on.
“Ah,” Colt said, now having a prime view of the long entrance to this place. He sat in silence, moving further up from the door as the steps grew closer; they were violent things, like taking a jackhammer and smashing it across the ground as whatever came moved.
A wicked thing was on its way—someone with a crazy Edict he’d never seen or…
A black head of a bull peaked around one of the corners of the tunnel ahead. Colt’s heart stopped as it stepped into view. Twice the size of a man, its head was a black bull with a golden ring through its nostrils and wicked sharp black horns that topped it like a crown. Its nose flared as those massive giant eyes took Colt in; it let out a breathtaking roar that made his stomach drop and twist. Colt the felt Edicts.
On its chest, a symbol of a golden crown began to glow; more of it came into view as it took up most of the tunnel, its grotesque human-bull bulk filling the space neatly. Colt couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
Here, beneath New Nashville, hid a monster.
It stopped as it saw him, that cold awareness crashing through Colt’s senses. He felt its mind trudging along in that bull head as it considered. Planned.
Colt had nowhere to go—well. He looked up.
That was an option, but he wasn’t about to go and abandon Jimmy. He held the weak dagger he’d looted in his hand and thought calmly over the situation the best he could. This thing, well, he’d seen it before. Who hadn’t seen a minotaur? It was like the monster walking fresh out of the Encyclopedia of Things That Never Were. And was here to make him a thing that no longer was. Satyrs, Cyclops, Orcs… What else next, Dragons?
“Alright, let’s do this, then,” Colt said, rolling his shoulders.
The guards were difficult. He’d expected having to sneak around and navigate with those people; trying to restrict himself to non-lethal means. That was tough, considering he simply wasn’t equipped with the right skill set for non-lethal measures.
Give him a giant minotaur any day of the week.
The Minotaur took his challenge to heart, roaring as its whole body pivoted, back foot stomping. Then, it launched itself at Colt like an Olympic athlete—digging through the tunnel with pounding footsteps that hit the ground like a flurry of thunderbolts. Its horns pointed down, set to skewer Colt against the doorway in a violent moment of death.
Colt timed it; two seconds later, when the minotaur reached him, he activated Phantom’s Gambit.
He didn’t even move—the Minotaur crashed through and kept going, smashing into the door and into the room with the healers without even stopping; there was a scream from inside, but not one of death. Colt let out a soft curse and turned on his heel, rushing after the monster as he gathered his Edict along his blade.
As he crossed the threshold of the room and verified that the Minotaur hadn’t hurt anyone, he activated Inspect to find out what he was dealing with.
———
Name: Lee Rodger | Race: Transfigured Human
Icon: N/A | Class: Beast - Minotaur [N/A]
Faction: New Nashville
Level: 76
So, what you’re seeing here is an example of a human giving way to the forces of chaos. In the process of obtaining power at all costs, they’ve paid the price with humanity. Cheers! Going down this route forfeits a right to an Icon and forfeits any specific class. But the perks can be worth it if the right opportunity presents itself, at the cost of humanity, your mind, and all else. And in this case, it has; this chunky man-bull has been fed a sizable amount of experience, courtesy of all those invested faction points.
Though this guy you see? Yeah, he’s got something going on and has retained the slightest bit of consciousness, thanks to the Oath of Fealty he’s taken with a Throneweaver.
Noteworthy Skills:
[Hidden]
Edicts:
Gore (Greater)
Savage (Lesser)
———
Colt stared at the back of the monster, put on the back foot for a brief moment as he absorbed the information. It wasn’t… Well, it was human, according to the system. This thing had been a human, it no longer was.
Whomever this had been, one of Denny’s skills was tied to just what happened here.
What the hell. What even happened to this ‘Lee?’ his race, his class, all of it was altered. Such a thing being possible was like a punch to the gut, and made his mind race.
And holy shit, it had Edicts?
The beast-man turned toward him, and Colt saw intelligence in those eyes as it regarded him, ignoring the terrified healers in the dingy prison room. It understood he was the target, the one it wanted to take out, and so, thankfully, it was going to avoid collateral damage.
Right. Focus. This wasn’t a normal person anymore.
Colt got a look at Jimmy, huddled in the corner with a terrified expression.
The minotaur was adapting and turning, and the high-level beast was getting ready for another charge. Colt stepped back into the tunnel, eyes affixed to the monster-man. Not sure what to do, he settled on wrapping his pithy little knife with more and more of his Edict—the power condensing into a fine, incredibly small edge.
Then, he saw the Minotaur reacting. Its laws wrapped around those horns as its head lowered, its foot kicked out.
Gore had to do with the horns, the idea of turning him to a pulp, yet it also had to do with the idea of violence and injury. Both of those understandings were deeply intertwined and reinforced one another; though Colt didn’t have the Edict, he grasped the profound intent gathered on that bodily weapon. A raw violence that gathered, threatening to rip, tear, shred him. A result of his honing of his own Edicts. Gore wasn’t too far away from Cut. Since both often resulted in death.
When it charged, its own law wrapped thick around its weapons.
Cut, he’d sever through the violent rage and end the beast beyond it. Cut didn’t carry the emotional weight; it was a clinical truth. Divide.
The bull charged.
Colt threw out his Edict and then weaved his second in, layering the Movement into his cut, crossing the distance in a split second even as the Bull only moved a step or two forward on its route to kill him where he stood, somehow connecting its infused horns with the invisible cut as if it saw it travel through the air in a split second. This thing was not only strong but fast.
Horns clashed against the invisible blade, and a second Edict welled out from the Minotaur in a wave, reinforcing its Gore, strengthening it as the two competed. Savage, no doubt. The strength to toss aside the competitor, to abandon humanity and embrace the brutality.
Colt groaned, his soul stretched between the two Edicts, competing against the raw power of a higher-leveled monster.
The horns deflected the cut—sending it upward with a sound like reality tearing. Dirt and concrete rained down as the invisible blade crashed through the soil above, shaking the tunnel. The impact sent tremors through the reinforced walls, a reminder of just how deep underground they were trapped.
Colt unraveled his Edict before the Cut could go much further and bring the tunnel down upon them.
Movement. Colt slowed time. The Bull was so wrapped in momentum and coated with its different Edicts that it spelled certain death. Yet, now, time moved slower than ever before. He could feel it, and with it came every single beat of his heart, like a tiny drum as the poor thing overclocked in his chest. Even with the increased power, the Bull still moved, like a drunken man on tranquilizers, horn headed for his heart.
Colt slipped under and past the beast; the cowl of Savagery hung over him, threatening to rip him apart, fighting him for control over the situation, over his Edict. Wanting to wrestle away the measure of authority he’d grasped over his power and return him to wild abandon.
His eyes narrowed, and he grunted, then shoved back, trying to steal all of the Momentum the Minotaur had. The two struggled as Colt put more and more distance between him and the monster and headed back to the room.
He was certain now.
This wasn’t something he could defeat, not like this. The level gap was too high, and it had too many stat points all over. Its Soul felt just as weighty as his, though he had a slight edge when it came to contests of will and weaving.
Not enough to win.
When one path to victory closed, you needed to find another.
So Colt pulled back to the room and slowed as he fought the Minotaur, freezing it in place as it struggled against the restraints. The sheer might behind those muscles and the momentum it generated, combined with its infused Edict, was like trying to wrestle down a bear pre-system integration.
A second longer.
Colt’s brow furrowed, sweat collecting as the strain of it all built, crescendoing. Winning wasn’t killing the Minotaur, but he’d do his damn best to try.
He wrapped more Cut around his knife, feeling the weapon erupt with Movement inside as micro-structural cracks formed due to his sloppily exerted control. Too much going on, juggling too much to make it all work—whatever, it was a bad weapon anyway. He layered the Edict thick, even as he stamped down on the Minotaur, abusing his advantage of being quicker than anything else to pull it all together.
As he felt Movement began to slip, he launched the last attack, abusing the Minotaur’s rampant Savagery to his own advantage, letting that domain of death and destruction feed into his Cut as it slammed into the ceiling of the tunnel, right where it’d deflected his blow before, this time at an angle. Just as the Edict left his hand, the cheap dagger shattered, unable to withstand the universal forces he was toying with.
He let his Movement go, the world snapped back to normal time. His hand stung from the blown-up dagger shards that cut into it, but he cut through the distraction and focused on the results.
The cut hit the ceiling. The Minotaur roared, turning around to face and catch him just as the Cut sliced through the tunnel’s roof.
There was a second as it maneuvered for another charge, the Edicts rolling off it an intoxicating promise and intent of death.
There was a massive crack, like a tree falling multiple ones, as the very foundation of the tunnel snapped and broke, the concrete cleanly cut and not enjoying the weight of the earth atop it.
Then, like an explosion, a BOOM.
Dust flew in a veritable cloud as the tunnel collapsed on the minotaur, Colt blocked his eyes and coughed, his heart still running.
There was no notification.
He heard a dull roar—a pounding in the soil beneath, as above, the faint blue light of morning began to show through. Faintly, he heard screams and shouting above and could see the collapsed buildings. Colt winced, knowing he’d just caused collateral damage. An awful feeling sank in his gut. All of that, and the Minotaur wasn’t even dead.
More pounding beneath the dirt.
Colt’s heart hammered—turning to Jimmy. The healer had slowly come out of hiding, his hands shaking, eyes wide as he stared at Colt. “We have to go,” Colt warned him—moving to grab the healer.
The air thickened with power, crystallizing into golden chains that wrapped around Jimmy. They yanked him down with brutal force; Jimmy grunted with an echo that reverberated throughout the prison room. sending him to the ground with a grunt that echoed through the tunnel. The display of control was casual, effortless.
The gold chains too… Instantly, Colt remembered the golden sword he’d seen decapitate a man—Denny.
“Wow, busy night. Imagine me waking to my pet drawing my attention and raging. And to think, someone managed to slip past all the guards I put up. It doesn’t matter who you are, though I’m confused why I can’t see.” Denny stood on the ramp of dirt leading back from this pit of hell and back to Earth, a big grin on his face. “I’ll have to exterminate another vermin.”
Colt stared upward at the ‘governor,’ hearing the pounding of his minotaur trying to dig itself out of the earth. One look at Jimmy was all he needed to know. This operation had gone just about as sideways as he could, and now… He didn’t know what to do.
