Chapter 8: Talentless - Chapter 8

Their uninvited guest flicked from face to face with a cocky smile, appraising the motley crew of adventurers before him. His see-through silhouette shimmered in the low light of the throne room’s braziers, flickering in and out of sight like the dungeon gate they had arrived through. His aura was overwhelming, so densely packed with mana that Rayden had to focus to stay conscious. He looked around and saw his worry reflected in the others' faces. This wasn’t the power they had detected behind the throne room’s doors; it was a man who vastly surpassed it.

They were at his mercy, plain and simple. After all their hard work, there was nothing they could do but hope the blue being meant them no harm. Though he didn’t think the interloper was a god, the irony of the dungeon’s theme wasn’t lost on him.

“Hello there, my good sir!” Jim said in greeting. “I’m Jim, and these are my companions. What’s your name?”

The man scrutinized him with his eyebrows raised, probably trying to figure out if he was being mocked–another mighty foe frazzled by their genial oddball.

“You don’t look like a Jim,” he said cock-eyed.

The blue man’s eyes glowed for a second, then he seemed to look at the elf in a new light.

“Hmm, interesting that one of your kind would be here, unexpected. I recognize your ancient blood.”

Rayden didn’t know exactly what he was alluding to, but it didn’t surprise him that Jim was hiding something. The loquacious elf turned deadly serious for a second, his face flickering with an intensity that bordered on hate, until the blue man waved him away with a shimmering hand.

“Not that I care. You’re not the only one with strange blood in this bunch anyway,” the spectre shrugged. “How exactly did you five even get together?”

The intruder chuckled to himself before continuing, content to leave the question rhetorical.

“Eh, it’s intriguing, but nothing more. As for my name, that is of no consequence. I am the Mother’s servant, and I have been waiting for whoever attempted this poor excuse for a dungeon.”

“You a god or something, you big blue fuck?” Boh grunted.

"What do you think, you small fat fuck?"

“He’s a shade,” Ivy said calmly.

“Indeed, I am,” the alleged servant laughed. “And you’re as sharp as the fangs of an ancient lizard!”

Rayden turned to Quill, who was clutching her staff tightly. She looked tired, no doubt as sick of this wretched place's tricks as much as he was.

“What’s a shade?”

“He’s like a clone, made entirely with mana," she whispered. "It is not a Talent, but an extremely advanced Mage technique, which means he is much stronger than us, even if this isn’t his real body.”

The shade grinned at them, apparently having heard every word. He pointed up at the quiet storm still blowing above them.

“Right again…though I’m not nearly as powerful as the woman watching this freak show.”

“Can we meet the lass?” Boh ventured. “I bet she’s a big ‘ol woman, hopefully a giantess.”

"Or perhaps an imposing she-devil..." Jim said wistfully. "A vengeful femme-fatale type, maybe a slim succubus with a monster's body and a private collection of torture instruments. I hope she's in need of company."

“Careful,” the shade scowled, a thin aura of lightning coating his fist. “I'm not as kind as she is.”

Ivy stared the man down, clinking her gauntlets together before asking, “Who are they? Who is the Mother?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” The man shrugged, unimpressed.

Finally reaching the point where her frustration outweighed her fear, Quill straightened out her dirty robe, crossed her arms, and stepped forward with the gall of a born noble. Despite her disheveled state, she looked the part of a self-assured Lady with an imperious glare. Rayden was impressed.

“So what exactly do you want with us, then?” The redhead asked with confidence. “We'd be dead already if you wished it, so why are you torturing us with your presence?”

“Smart girl,” the shade laughed. “I want just one of you, the one capable of handling the Mother’s boon.”

He ran his finger back and forth between them, as if perusing wares for a moment. The shade made a show of waggling back and forth, until, to Rayden’s horror, he pointed directly at him.

“M-Me?” He sputtered. “Why the fuck would you want me?”

Rayden didn’t say it, but there was no way one of these mysterious Talent-hiding assholes wasn’t more qualified for whatever bizarre ritual was taking place. He was by far the most normal one here, mommy issues aside. He feared he had been set up for a second, but that seemed like a stretch. A quick check of his comrades' faces reassured him that they were equally confused by the shade’s designation.

“Yes, you, bozo,” the shade cackled. “Congratulations! Trust me, if you survive the next few minutes, you'll learn all you need to know…and be handsomely rewarded for your trouble.”

The shade turned around, glancing at the silent and terrified goblins Rayden had almost forgotten existed. The poor beings looked like they were about to wet-wet their stolen goblin pants.

“But before we get to that…”

He moved his hand like a baton, making two quick flourishes with his index finger. A pair of thin, lightning-encased whips blasted into the air, lashing out at the poor trembling goblins. There was no warning, and no fighting back, just the crackle of static and the sizzle of burning air. The goblin usurpers disintegrated into piles of ashes before they could even scream. Recalling the dungeon's theme of mortal fragility, Rayden felt there was something poetic about such a callous display, but he was too scared to voice it.

When the shade turned back around, he feared it might be the end of his journey. The serpentine bolts the man had conjured weren’t something he could block with his meager mana, or even react to in time.

Thankfully, the blue man just crossed his arms and shrugged.

“A bit cruel, I know, but those little wretches really wouldn’t have been much of a challenge for you,” he said. “Wrong time, wrong place. Anyway, you’re in luck, scrawny little ranger.”

He pointed at the others one by one.

“I’m going to let your Talented friends fight with you.”

Without another word, the flippant shade reached behind him and clutched at the air with a glowing blue hand, opening up a swirling vortex of cobalt energy. The mana density coming from the churning nebula was so strong that Rayden could barely look at it without his head hurting. The shade grunted with effort as the portal slid open like a cosmic hatch, revealing an enormous black-feathered creature with glowing purple eyes and a curved obsidian beak.

Their tormentor smiled at them, eyes flickering with magic energy, then yanked the monstrous bird into the castle with incredible force. The creature screeched in surprise as it landed, madly flailing its wings and scanning its new environment with panicked beady eyes. Rayden quickly got the impression that the ten-foot-tall crow wasn’t happy to see them.

“Good luck,” the shade sneered, just before disappearing in the ether.

“Stormcrow!” Ivy shouted. "Watch out for its lightning!”

Rayden had never heard of a stormcrow before, but when its stygian feathers began to glow with iridescent blue static, he took Ivy's warning to heart. Apparently, the lightning conjuring shade and his beloved Mother of storms had a real theme going.

The crow’s amaranthine eyes narrowed, zeroing in on Rayden first. His companions charged in to attack, but the monstrous bird unfurled its wings and blasted them away with a gust of wind. Having successfully isolated its prey, the crow opened its beak and unleashed a stream of crackling current.

Rayden tried to sprint away, but the oversized bird turned its head and followed him with its static ray. Instinctively, he blasted mana throughout the entirety of his body, burning almost all of his reserves in one go. It was the last line of defense for Cultivators—strengthen everything and hope it helps you survive. The lightning made contact a moment after. Rayden collapsed in a burning heap, hitting the floor hard as his nerves betrayed him and his skin roasted. Remaining conscious was a success in itself, but the pain was putting even that in jeopardy. It was almost unbearable, blistering and white hot, only soothed by the adrenaline coursing through his bloodstream.

Stolen novel; please report.

Paralysed, he could only watch as the battle raged on.

The crow summoned a shimmering shield of mana just in time to block a bolt of Quill’s mana. The beast shrieked at her, almost mockingly, then blasted a gust of wind from its wings, repelling the others just as they tried to re-enter the fray. Boh threw his hammer at the crow in frustration. Jim lined up his crossbow and fired a moment later, but both their attacks were deflected by another set of blue shields. It was becoming clear that the crow was far more intelligent than anything a beginner gate should throw at them, and had a defensive Talent it was supplementing its power with.

How the shade had summoned such a powerful monster into a gray gate was an infuriating mystery, but Rayden would have to worry that out later. The crow turned its murderous gaze to Quill and shrieked, once again leaking lightning from its stark obsidian beak.

Fuck.

Rayden attempted to stagger to his feet, but his body still wasn’t listening. It didn’t help that he was wracked with pain and sickened by the smell of his own charred flesh.

Thankfully, his companions finally went all out.

Quill’s eyes glowed green, and the crow suddenly jolted its beak toward the stormy sky. Jim pointed his clenched fists in the same direction and made a tearing motion, arms aglow with deep-purple mana. A three-foot-wide panel of reality was pulled back from the air, revealing a stark black void. Seconds later, a monstrous eye blinked open from the darkness, its pale white sclera afflicted with angry red lines.

The crow did what any reasonable monster would. It reared its head back and blasted the eldritch organ with its lightning breath, granting everyone else a moment of respite. Boh, now covered in an aura of billowing flames, charged forward and slammed his warhammer into the distracted crow's chest, causing the giant bird to reel back in pain as its lightning sputtered.

Rayden was mesmerized by the sudden showcase of Talents, until a powerful hand shot out from behind and yanked him onto his feet. He nearly shit himself in fright before turning around to see Ivy’s sweaty, stern face glaring down at him.

“Heal,” she commanded, as juniper tendrils of mana poured into his body and radiated a pulsing warmth.

Rayden watched in quiet awe as his burns and wounds mended before his eyes. He didn’t know a lot about Talents, given how the kingdom’s nobility carefully guarded their intricacies, but even a village idiot knew a healing ability was invaluable. This one, presumably at its base stage, was stellar.

“Thank you,” he mumbled.

She nodded, then charged back into battle. Rayden drew his bow. His body was healed, but his mana was still depleted. His best chance to help was to patiently wait for an opportune moment and capitalize with an arrow. Quill's eyes continued to flicker emerald-green, sending the crow into a mad rage as it lashed out at whatever phantoms she was making it see. Unfortunately, all the wind the monster was throwing around was preventing their frontline from getting in close…and the redhead was beginning to look worn down.

“Rest, Quill,” Ivy commanded.

Leaning on her staff for support, the mage obliged.

The crow’s eyes refocused while Boh, Jim, and Ivy regrouped. A tense moment of silence stretched just long enough to catch a breath, then the triumvirate of Attuned warriors renewed their attack.

Boh belted out a war cry as he surged forward, expanding the coat of flames around him onto his trusty hammer. Ivy flanked from the opposite side, gauntlets and legs pumping with power. Jim attacked head-on, drawing his sword with one hand and beckoning his Talent with the other. Their foe let out a piercing cry of defiance, its coat bristling as another elemental assault was prepared in its throat. Three shields of blue mana began hovering around the crow's body, seeking out the adventurers closing in.

Right before the black bird opened its crackling beak, a mummified arm reached out of the void behind it and yanked at its tail feathers. It only lasted a second before vanishing, but it was strong enough to make the creature stagger and lose control of its Talent. Taking full advantage, Boh dented the creature's left side with a brutal smack just as Jim’s blade sank deep into its chest. Ivy’s gauntlet struck at the same time, accompanied by the sickening crunch of the bird’s brittle bones.

The dungeon's impromptu boss was severely injured, but wasn’t dead yet.

It screeched in pain, nearly bursting his eardrum with a vengeful wail, then spread its tenebrous wings wide. For the first time, the crow rose a few feet into the air before diving towards Ivy with its talons extended. She raised her gauntlets to deflect, but the sharp limbs slashed underneath, raking across her stomach in a bloody spray.

“Ivy!” Quill screamed, before firing off several blasts of mana.

Rayden took a deep breath, not letting panic get the best of him. She can heal. He waited for exactly the moment the enraged crow deflected Quill’s barrage, then flared the small amount of mana he’d recovered into his arm.

The crow’s right eye snapped towards him during the half-second before his arrow fired, hatred boiling in its abyssal depths. Somehow, it knew, recognizing his killing intent as the correct threat. Maybe it had fought an archer before, or perhaps it was just that intelligent.

Lucky for Rayden, his team was ready.

“REEEEHHHHHHH!”

The feathered menace shrieked as his comrades rushed in. A fat, drunk dwarf, a sesquipadalian man with a gaudy hat, and a soft-spoken giantess with fists of jade all struck at the same time, right as a bright blue bolt of mana blasted towards the monster's beak. A shield went up at the last second, but Quill’s attack shattered it, allowing Rayden’s arrow to strike the bull’s eye of its iris. Whether it reached the oversized bird’s brain was unclear, but it incapacitated the monster long enough for Jim to pull his sword behind him and ready a full-powered slash of cold steel.

The crow's head was sent flying, cut clean off its long neck. Rayden shivered, still feeling like its eyes were glaring at him as its head rolled across the floor.

However, it was dead, and he had won. Rayden and his companions were banged up, bloody, and exhausted, but victorious all the same.

He raised a fist in celebration before remembering that the others hadn’t seen Ivy’s Talent. His comrades were already rushing to the green-haired woman's side. He knew she was fine, but didn’t spoil the surprise.

“Big lass!” Boh pleaded. “You can’t die until you’ve carried a dwarf on your shoulders to bed!”

“We need to exit the dungeon immediately and find a healer,” Quill shouted, until she got a chance to look at their stoic captain. “Wait…Ivy?”

The gauntleted-clad warrior stood up, revealing an exposed stomach covered in slowly disappearing wounds, scarring right before their eyes. Ivy was fine, though her armor had been ripped apart and her tan face was deathly pale. Repairing her wounds right after mending his must have been taxing, but being tired was better than being dead.

“How fortuitous," Jim said energetically. “You must have quite the Talent, Ivy. I feared the foil to my good-natured whimsy was slain by a savage beast...”

Paying Jim no mind, Quill wrapped her arms around their leader and gave her a tight hug. Ivy looked a little confused, as if the gesture was unfamiliar to her, but otherwise seemed to enjoy it. Yet when Boh attempted the same, the dwarf was sternly pushed away.

As always, the bond of powerful women proved stronger than the persistence of lecherous dwarves.

“We’ve done well,” Ivy eventually nodded.

Her words were terse as always, but she sounded relieved.

“Especially you, Ivy,” Rayden said. “You led us here.”

“Agreed,” Quill said with a smile.

“Could be a bit nicer to Old Boh, though,” the dwarf mumbled.

“Thank you, Rayden. Thank you, Quill.”

Boh, clearly jealous, looked around at their faces before heaving out a heavy sigh.

“Oh, alright, I’ll say it. Ivy, you’re one hell of a gods damned warrior. By Charity's generous ass, we are lucky to have you.”

The dwarf bowed his head, and Ivy responded with the same expression a parent gives a child after they've learned an important life lesson.

“Thank you, Boh. You fought well.”

The dwarf swooned, but his rapture was interrupted by Jim, who lifted him into the air with a twirl.

As Boh let out a stream of curses, Quill trotted over to Rayden and dove in for a hug. He wrapped his arms around her and returned the embrace. She was soft and warm and inviting, like a…sexy blanket. Or at least, that was the confounding pair of words his weary mind arrived at. It dawned on him that ten years spent alone had made him a lonely and warped man.

“Good fighting, Rayden. I'm glad you're OK,” she grinned, pulling back her arms but remaining pressed into his chest. “I don’t know why that shade was obsessed with you, but I hope he’s fucked off to whatever blue hell he came from. Hands off my quarry.”

“Quarry?” He asked playfully.

She placed a hand on his hip and smiled coyly, “Hmm…minion might be a more suitable word.”

“Is that an official title in the peerage?”

“Nope, but it could be in my harem.”

He pushed her away with a laugh, then they looked into each other's giddy eyes for a moment, until the sound of Boh guzzling down ale ruined the mood.

“What do you think that azure man wanted with you, Rayden?” Jim asked, wiping bird blood off his sword. “I’m still miffed that he insulted my gods given name.”

Rayden reluctantly turned from Quill’s gaze and shrugged.

“My best guess is that I’m the only one without a Talent here. You’re all conspicuous assholes by the way, seriously.”

Rayden continued before the man could sputter out a reply, “I think that that’s the simplest answer, and probably the right one. I have no ties to anyone powerful, except a merchant Knight who hated my mother, but that man already got what he wanted…”

“But why would you being Talentless matter?” Quill asked.

He shrugged.

“No clue…but once we leave here and I get one, maybe we’ll find out. Seems like it's time to get moving.”

He pointed to the golden swirl of light that was forming in front of the empty thrones, bursting with highly concentrated mana. This particular phenomenon was something Rayden had often dreamed of, but thought he’d never live to see: a quasar. When a dungeon was completed, its accumulated magical energy was condensed into what was essentially a dense pill of mana. As soon as they walked through, they’d each absorb a chunk of its power, increasing their mana pool and upgrading their Talent based on the concentration.

For a Talentless Attuned like Rayden, the quasar would be the catalyst for the mana pocket in his chest to form into a physical heart, greatly improving his lifespan, mana circulation, and most importantly, unlocking the magic that belonged to him alone.

“That’s a pretty sight,” Boh sighed.

“We’ve done it,” Ivy said softly.

“Another day, another dungeon,” Jim cheered. “I can't wait to learn what my Talent is!”

Rayden stared at the glowing exit like a kid outside a toy store window, hardly believing that he could finally buy the prize inside. Quill seemed to find his awe amusing, but let him have his moment.

Unfortunately, there was still one remaining obstacle between him and the power he craved: a tall blue shade with a menacing grin, who, of course, had suddenly appeared in front of their ticket home.