[Chapter 91. On the Sideline]
Garu shoved another massive, mangled corpse aside with a grunt of exertion, his four powerful arms making deceptively quick work of the heavy, interlocking carapace segnts. The Grak'thul's muscles rippled like cords of braided steel beneath his gray-green skin as he cleared the path. He paused for a mont, wiping a sar of violet ichor from one of his lower palms, and looked back at Searanox with a look of genuine curiosity. "How did you manage to build this wall in the first place, Dhampir? Your physical fra is efficient, but it cannot possibly shift this kind of dead weight without chanical leverage."
Searanox gritted his teeth, pushing himself up from the damp earth with a wince as his newly regrown leg sent a final, tingling protest through his nervous system. "Simple. I didn't lift them. I stacked them," he replied, his voice regaining so of its usual gravelly edge. He stood beside the massive Grak'thul, looking like a re twig positioned next to an ancient, weathered tree. "Garu, right? Call Victor. And let help you clear this ss; we’re burning daylight."
With a sharp ntal flick, Searanox summoned a Cargo Drone. The machine flickered into existence with a low-frequency hum, its containnt field expanding to instantly absorb a mangled Carapace Crawler corpse into its localized sub-space storage. Monts later, the drone reappeared a few ters back down the tunnel and unceremoniously dropped the heavy body into a designated pile. In a matter of minutes, the tunnel's left side was completely clear, the twisted remains of the Venom Lashers dumped in a grotesque heap at the rear of their position.
"A highly useful construct," Valdor noted, his ancient, rheumy eyes watching with a scholar's intensity as the drone dissolved back into blue sparks. "Its energy signature is remarkably stable for a low-tier summon. Tell , Victor, how many of these automated units can you comfortably command before the neural feedback becos… problematic?"
"Six, for now," Searanox answered shortly, his gaze drifting back down the dark, pulsing tunnel. The imdiate pain was fading, replaced by a cold, sharp alertness. "I've answered your questions. Now I have a few of my own." He paused, his eyes moving from the bird-like Narina to the stoic Aruru. "How did a group like yours even get here? This instance was supposed to be restricted to locals."
Astera stepped forward, her pearlescent face remaining unreadable, like a mask carved from fine marble. "The System issued a priority call," she explained, her voice echoing softly. "An urgent quest was dispatched to the central hubs to contain this specific corruption before it could achieve critical mass. We answered that call."
She looked at her team with a brief, silent communication, then turned her silver eyes back to him. "The Golden Order exists to stop the spread of the Void. This situation… this is fundantally wrong, Victor. Your world is far too young, too nascent, to be hosting a Void infection. It shouldn't be physically possible for the corruption to take root here."
"Golden Order?" Searanox's eyes narrowed, his mind searching through every scrap of lore and data he had managed to scavenge since the system appeared. "Is that a guild? So kind of cross-realm police force?"
"You would not have heard of us in your current state of developnt," Valdor said, leaning heavily on his staff. "We operate far beyond the limited knowledge of nascent worlds like this one. We are… the Golden Order is a legacy older than you can possibly imagine, reaching back to the first iterations of the System itself."
From the back of the group, Narina snorted, the sound sharp and dismissive.
"Fine. Gatekeep the history lessons if you want," Searanox's voice was flat, devoid of the awe they likely expected. "How did you know my level the second you saw ?"
"A skill," Narina snapped, her patience clearly fraying like a worn rope. "It’s a basic appraisal skill, though leveled far beyond anything you’ve seen. Now, can we please move on? The corruption doesn't pause for idle chatter, and the longer we stand here, the deeper it burrows into the dungeon."
"Narina," Astera said, her calm tone unchanged but carrying a weight that silenced the beastkin instantly. "She is correct in her urgency, Victor. But as we walk, I expect you to answer honestly. Your localized knowledge of this place is proving to be a useful asset."
Garu shoved the last stubborn piece of carapace aside, revealing the dark, yawning mouth of the chamber beyond.
"I already told you everything I know about the layout. And for the record, your knowledge is just as useful to ," Searanox said, moving forward with his rifle held at the low-ready. His drones followed in a tight, protective cloud.
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Aruru stepped smoothly beside him, his hand never leaving the hilt of his massive blade. "We cannot answer all of your questions, Victor. Beings from Core Worlds are strictly forbidden by System Law from sharing certain technical details with initiates. It is a safeguard designed to prevent unnatural, accelerated developnt in nascent worlds. Information is a resource, and giving you too much could cause your world’s internal economy to collapse."
`That's absolute bullshit` Searanox thought, though he kept the comnt to himself. He knew a stonewall when he saw one.
"Understood. Let's just finish the job. I have other dungeons to clear and a base to build," Searanox muttered.
As they began the trek deeper into the gloom, he perford a quick tactical swap. Two of his offensive drones dissolved into light, replaced instantly by more agile Assault Drones. He added two Defensive Drone to the rotation. Now, a balanced squad of two offensive, two assault, and one defensive drone surrounded him in a spinning, chanical periter.
Garu's massive, three-fingered hand suddenly blocked his path. "No rush, Victor. The chamber ahead isn't going to be what you expect from your previous runs. The geotry has been… compromised."
Garu's hand moved aside, and Searanox stepped forward into the clearing. The chamber opened into a sight that made even his cynical heart pause. The ceiling, which should have been a jagged rock vault, had vanished into a swirling, violet haze far above. Thick, pulsing purple veins—looking more like biological arteries than mineral deposits—crawled across the stone walls, pumping a sickening, rhythmic light through the room. The air was heavy and stagnant, carrying the stench of wet decay mixed with sothing sharp and acrid, like burning ozone.
"The corruption is… breathing," Narina whispered, her yellow eyes wide and her body coiled like a spring. Her feathers were standing on end, sensing the wrongness of the atmosphere.
Garu and Aruru imdiately ford the front line, their presence filling the mouth of the chamber. "Victor," Aruru said, his voice a low command as he pushed past the Dhampir. "You are the weakest link in this chain. Stay back with Valdor and Astera. Do not engage unless the line is breached."
The tunnel ahead widened significantly, and several Carapace Crawlers—warped and blackened by the Void—erged from the side passages. Garu slamd four massive tower shields into the dirt simultaneously, creating a literal wall of enchanted steel. Aruru stood in the single, deliberate gap between the shields. His blade moved like liquid rcury, a blur of silver light where each impact cracked a corrupted carapace with a sharp, final sound.
Valdor and Narina began their work from the rear. Streams of molten fire blood from Valdor's gnarled staff, engulfing the beasts in a cleansing inferno. Arrows from Narina's bow glowed with shifting elental hues—crystalline blue for ice, a violent red for fire, and a bubbling green for acid—each one finding a different, vital target with unerring accuracy.
Searanox watched them work for a few seconds, analyzing their patterns. Then, he sent his own drones forward to assist. To his surprise, the effect was remarkably similar. His assault drones fired beams of energy that burned nearly as hot as Valdor's fire, and his defensive drone's hexagonal barrier held against the creatures lunges just as effectively as Garu's heavy shields. They cleared the imdiate tunnel with a cold, chanical efficiency.
Astera stood back from the fray, her eyes closed and her head tilted slightly, as if she were listening to a broadcast from sowhere very far away.
They eventually reached the next major chamber. The familiar orange-yellow glow of the magma pools he had seen in his previous runs was gone. Instead, the pools ahead were filled with a sickly, pulsating green liquid that bubbled with toxic gas.
"Different," Searanox noted, his voice echoing in the large space. "The original guardian spat fire and swam from pool to pool. This… this isn't fire."
Garu and the others began moving toward the far end of the chamber, where the green glow was brightest. Searanox attempted to follow, but he stopped at the very edge of the entrance.
"Stay here, Victor. Watch the periter from the edge of the light," Garu said, his massive feet finding purchase on the slick, hard stone floor.
"Is that so?" Searanox shot back, his pride stinging as he stepped firmly onto the stone anyway. "You want to wait here like a child while you do the heavy lifting? I've been clearing this dungeon alone since the mont I arrived."
"You've been clearing the uncorrupted version of this dungeon alone," Astera corrected him, her pearlescent brow arching as she looked back over her shoulder. "There is a vast difference between a local pest and a Void-borne entity."
"I'm not useless. My drones can handle the heat," Searanox clarified, his voice tight with suppressed frustration.
"Your drones have raw power, yes, but they lack the experience of the Void," Valdor interjected, his ancient eyes appearing more analytical than dismissive. "They react to predictable, scripted combat patterns. This… this corruption does not follow the laws of the System's standards. It improvises. It learns."
Aruru's hand rested once more on the hilt of his nodachi. "We are the Golden Order. This is our singular purpose. You are an unknown variable. A liability. For the safety of the mission and your own life, you will stay here."
Searanox's jaw tightened until it ached. Anger, hot and quick, flared in his chest, urging him to push forward just to prove them wrong. But a colder, more calculating part of his mind held him back. They were right about one thing: they had a system and a rhythm he didn't fully understand yet. To argue further in the middle of a corrupted zone was a foolish risk he couldn't afford to take.
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