Chapter Eleven: Destruction

With the arrival of the banshees, the mind flayer sensed the shadow of death drawing near. It thrashed its tentacles wildly, lashing out like whips at its surroundings in a desperate attempt to drive away these terrifying phantoms. To a certain extent, it worked; as a creature from the lower realms, the mind flayer’s tentacles were imbued with magical power as well. Even though the banshees summoned by Janen were elite beings of the silver rank, a strike from those tentacles would still sap a significant portion of their strength.

After all, creatures of the soul were most vulnerable to magical attacks.

Yet the banshees showed no sign of retreating. On the contrary, as they evaded the mind flayer’s assaults, they would seize the chance to dart forward and bite at its brain. This war of attrition was clearly in the banshees’ favor, for the mind flayer was a living creature; if death gnawed at it unceasingly, its vitality would inevitably wane—until it perished.

Meanwhile, Janen was far from idle. He watched the mind flayer intently, waiting for an opportunity to deliver a fatal blow, even as he maneuvered around the awakened terrorclaws under Enoya’s cover. It wasn’t that Janen didn’t wish to end things quickly—however, every gain required a price. Though he could modify spells to a certain extent according to his will, this was not without cost. Forcibly manipulating and changing a spell would triple its cooldown time, a minor but tangible flaw.

Earlier, to ensure the fire serpent would strike true, Janen had been forced to alter its trajectory, drastically extending the spell’s cooldown. At present, he would need more than a minute before he could cast it again.

If only I could establish a library, I could research more spells to use...

Dodging the relentless assault of the terrorclaws, Janen still found time for such thoughts, seemingly unrelated to the immediate crisis. It was then that his keen senses caught a flurry of hurried footsteps behind him.

He scarcely needed to look; he was certain it was Vilna and her mercenaries. Sure enough, after a cacophony of footfalls, Vilna and her battered mercenaries arrived. Having endured a grueling battle with the manipulated duergar, they were in a sorry state. Even Vilna, usually so spirited, was now stained with blood, evidence of a recent mishap.

“By the Stones, what is that monster?!”

The sight of the monstrous horror stunned more than a few mercenaries, and Vilna’s expression changed drastically.

“Damn it—it’s a mind flayer! Scatter! Ready your crossbows!”

As a half-dark elf, Vilna had seen this terrifying creature before in the halls of the dark elf matron, and she knew only too well how fearsome it was. The dark elves would toss their useless slaves and those who broke taboos into the arena, watching with glee as the mind flayer cracked open skulls and feasted on brains amid the slaves’ agonized screams.

But when such a scene became your own predicament, it was far from amusing.

Vilna reacted swiftly, but not everyone could match her speed. The mind flayer had already spotted these new intruders in its domain. Compared to Janen and Enoya, these newcomers would be far easier prey. The creature threw its maw wide and unleashed a roar.

The deafening wave echoed throughout the cavern. All, save Janen and Enoya who were prepared, were left dazed by the sonic blast. The thunderous sound struck the already weary mercenaries like a sledgehammer. A few, grievously wounded, rolled their eyes back and nearly fainted.

At that very moment, the mind flayer’s tentacles shot out with sudden length, slicing through the air towards the mercenaries. Those stunned by the sonic assault had no time to resist before the tentacles seized them. The tips, serpent-like, coiled around throats and plunged mercilessly into the backs of their skulls.

With a series of sickening gulps, the mercenaries’ limp bodies hung like puppets with their strings cut, all response gone.

In less than a minute, four or five mercenaries had fallen victim to this fate. Having feasted on their brains, the mind flayer seemed revitalized by this unexpected bounty, replenishing the strength Janen and the banshees had worn away. It violently flung the corpses at the still-dazed survivors, then forcibly drove away the banshees attempting to close in once more. With a final shriek, its entire form contracted and expanded like a deep-sea octopus and lunged toward the opposite side of the cavern, seeking escape.

One had to admit, the mind flayer didn’t consume all those brains for nothing. It seized the perfect opportunity—the newly arrived mercenaries provided ample nourishment to make up for the losses suffered at Janen and the banshees’ hands, and the sonic blast had left nearly everyone dazed. The mind flayer knew that if it didn’t flee now, it could forget ever enjoying another sumptuous meal.

But fate had other plans; not everyone was so easily deceived.

Crack!

A lightning-laced whip arced through the air and ensnared one of the mind flayer’s tentacles. As an undead, Enoya didn’t need ears to “hear” and was immune to the sonic blast. The instant she saw the mind flayer attempt to escape, she acted.

Though Enoya appeared a delicate, slender girl, it was always wise to never judge an undead’s strength by their appearance. In size, the difference between her and the mind flayer was as great as a kitten to an elephant, yet the undead’s formidable might yanked the mind flayer to a halt. The moment the lightning whip wrapped around its tentacle, the creature’s massive body shuddered and its speed dropped sharply.

For Janen, that was all the opening he needed.

He stretched out his right hand, tracing a mysterious sigil in the air. In an instant, radiant lightning burst forth from his palm, coiling and swirling into a prison of light that locked the mind flayer in an electrified cage.

For most creatures, the agony alone would have been lethal. But to the mind flayer, the lightning was a mere inconvenience—it slammed against the cage, desperate to break free.

Thus occupied, the mind flayer failed to notice the change above its head.

A thunderous current surged once more. Brilliant white light snaked across the ceiling like a stream, striking a massive stalactite above. Sparks flew, rock shattered, and fissures rapidly split the stalactite’s summit.

With a final, resounding crack, the colossal stone pillar—four or five stories tall—collapsed and plummeted, guided by gravity straight toward the mind flayer.

There was no time to flee, and perhaps it never even realized what had happened. Its huge form was skewered by the jagged pillar and, in a hail of rubble, was buried completely.

“Cough... cough... Should’ve researched a protective barrier spell after all...”

Janen coughed, waving the dust from his face. He, too, was covered in dirt; though he’d avoided direct harm, the swirling dust and debris were more than enough to leave one miserable.

“Master, are you all right? Are you hurt?”

Enoya hurried over from the far side, gazing at him with concern. Noting her expression, Janen waved her off.

“No, I’m unhurt. Though a bath seems unavoidable now. But you—”

He glanced at Enoya’s right hand. Blood had soaked her black sleeve, and her right arm was visibly longer than her left. Without inspection, Janen could imagine the joint torn and dislocated by immense force.

“How badly are you hurt?”

“It’s just a minor injury. I’ll repair it when we return.”

“Good.”

Relieved by Enoya’s nonchalant reply, Janen nodded. He reached out, gently stroking her long hair. Enoya narrowed her crimson eyes in delight, but soon her gaze swept sharply around them.

“Master, what should we do with this trash?”

Corpses littered the cavern. Besides the mercenaries slain by the mind flayer, the terrorclaws it had controlled had also perished, wailing as they fell with their master. Only Vilna and a handful of orc mercenaries still clung to life.

Even so, their prospects were grim. Apart from Vilna, the survivors were bloodied and battered by the falling stones, their lives ticking away by the second. As for the hapless dark elf, she was half-buried under a boulder, looking barely alive.

Observing this, Janen adjusted his glasses, a smile curling on his lips.

“This is my rightful reward, and I shall accept it without reserve. Perfect—it’s time for an experiment.”

With that, Janen strode to the unconscious dark elf, stretched out his right hand, and pressed downward.

As his hand descended, a twisted, crimson sigil appeared in the air, dissolving into a faint mist which the dark elf slowly inhaled. Janen watched with interest until Vilna had absorbed all of the vapor, then nodded in satisfaction and rose, surveying the chamber.

“Now, let’s see what your true strength is.”

Murmuring to himself, Janen snapped his fingers.

The banshees appeared once more. Their eyes, dark and blazing with excitement, fell on the struggling survivors whose feet already hovered at death’s threshold. Soon, three banshees surrounded the orcish mercenaries, encircling the hapless souls and unleashing shrieks that would chill the living.

The moment the banshees’ icy hands touched the orcs, the mercenaries’ faint heartbeats ceased forever.