Searching For Andromeda 50 Dungeon | Part 8 Necropolis

"Yeah. I didn't expect the book would help us so much." Says Vashti. "The weak spot was on the chest when firing magic,"

"Well, I guess we should thank the Guildmaster for that," Arletha says as she jumps down to the ground. "He gave us some great tips."

Samuel was confused. The book? Guildmaster? What were they talking about? Did these people antic.i.p.ate that monster?

"Oh, sorry, Samuel." Says Hosea. "We were actually expecting the necromorph to appear sooner or later."

"You see, our Guildmaster is a veteran. He had helped a friend conquer one of the dungeons. If I'm not mistaken, it was around the sea that divides Alaris and Sembilica." Pelmon says. "He gave us some tips on how to defeat the necromorph, among many other things."

"He gave us this book," Hosea then pulled a book out of his robes. Samuel wonders how he was able to do that. The book Hosea pulled from his shawl was a worn-out tome smaller than his grimoire. It seemed portable enough to carry, but Samuel was still baffled how Hosea was able to keep them. Surely there are only two books inside his robe?

"This book has the acc.u.mulation of the monsters the Red Alaris Guild had encountered," says Hosea. "We're fortunate enough to have this, since it only comes in one copy, after all."

"Like a cheat manual?" Samuel asks as Hosea hands him the 'cheat manual'. Samuel started shuffling through the pages. He sees familiar monsters—Cthulhu, giant tarantulas, hydras, and chimeras.

"It's a cheat manual." Pelmon agrees. "But it's convenient enough to help us defy death."

"That's—" Samuel stopped shortly as he hears yet another familiar low growl. It had originated from four places. North, east, south, and west. Soon the place was enveloping with low animal grouses and whimpers.

"Stand back," Pelmon says to Sam, who had stood before him.

The group had stood side by side, as the necromorphs slowly steps into the light. Samuel remembers a particularly familiar scene. This had happened before. He knows it does. Back in the laboratory, where any strategy deemed futile. He glances over to Yael, and then to the others. All of them were in a calm composure.

And then at that time—Samuel realized what he and the task force lacked. What this group separated from the task force was something beyond any human understanding—magic.

They were able to conjure magic. Magic to buy some time. Magic to heal. Magic to be able to protect them.

"Sam!"

Samuel snapped back from his thoughts with Hosea's call. It seems he had created a barrier once more with Vashti. His grimoire was floating atop, after all.

"You'll be going with Arletha, and Vashti, follow them and clear the grounds!" says Hosea. "It won't be safe here on land. You two will go somewhere higher!"

"Yes!" Vashti exclaims, and then began to run.

And without stalling any longer, Arletha seized Samuel by the waist. Arletha's boots gleamed—and Samuel noticed a hexagram with glowing inscriptions appearing on the boot's leather. Arletha was now following Vashti's trails as she lights up the whole place with her fire magic.

"Neat, huh?" Arletha exclaims, noticing Samuel looking over her boots. "This was made by Hosea's grimoire. It makes me jump higher!"—Samuel released a 'whoa!' as Arletha stepped through another building. Incongruously enough, the darkness was now slowly subsiding due to Vashti releasing several light spells. Although it still was considerably dark, Samuel could now see the buildings and monuments compared to earlier.

After hopping through several buildings, they reached a certain ruin—a clock tower—with the view circling the city of the dead. Vashti had now trailed behind them, "will Vashti be okay?" Samuel asks.

"She's trailing behind, but she'll be here in no time." Arletha answers.

Even at such a time, Samuel still had the irrational urge to compare places. He was certain this looked like the perfect setting for Arletha—a sniper's playground, he thinks—after all, 'Twas easy to shoot people (and monsters) roaming around under this clock tower.

"We'll be here for a while," says Arletha. "The aim is to kill the necromorphs approaching the team, and so we need to obliterate as many as we can."

Samuel nodded. Below them were necromorphs—taller and shorter—wandering around. Arletha then started to fire her arrows to the necromorphs, taking them on one by one.

"What the . . . h.e.l.l?"

"What's wrong?" Samuel asks—but he did not need Arletha's answer. His eyes widened as he peered down. He notices a particular monster, one of the necromorphs who had Arletha's arrow in its back.

It was looking at them.

"Creep," Arletha says under her breath, and then shot the creature one more time. And then two. Three. Four. Five arrows.

But it was still standing.

Upon unleas.h.i.+ng several arrows to one monster, Arletha soon noticed this certain action attracted others as well. The necromorphs swarming below them were now looking aloft the clock tower with gleaming, red eyes. Samuel felt a s.h.i.+ver ran down his spine—the necromorph's appearance and their blood-red sinister eyes were enough to send gooseb.u.mps all over his body.

Arletha began shooting the necromorphs one by one again. Clearly, she was bothered by their strange behavior that she missed some—but to no avail, they were still standing motionlessly, staring upwards with their red eyes ceasing to avert the clock tower.

"Why are they looking at us like that?" Samuel asks.

"I don't know." Arletha answers. "Supposedly I can take them down with several arrows, says the book. . . but I don't know what's going on now."

"Look!" Samuel pointed down. Arletha did so—staring back to the necromorphs underneath them. Her eyes amplified. The necromorphs were now walking—no—running to the clock tower at full speed, with the monster she shot several arrows with, leading them.

Samuel and Arletha didn't have much time to think and process what was going on as the necromorphs began to swarm and crawl to the clock tower's walls, their train of thoughts were interrupted with a high-pitched voice. A scream; a shriek had sufficed in the entire surroundings, owned by a familiar voice—

". . . Vashti!" Arletha utters, as she and Samuel realized whose voice that scream belonged to. And followed by that scream was a low growl—a whimper and snarl growing louder and louder at each pa.s.sing second.

Arletha and Samuel stood back side by side as the growl stopped, remaining vigilant.

"W h y?"

Samuel's eyes widened as he suppressed a gasp—

In front of them, crawling in the walls with its hands on each side of the floorboards, was an ent.i.ty that speaks death; possessing a bloodied flesh, deteriorating muscles, bones, and had Arletha's arrows pierced on its back. But it wasn't the body that was considered as terrifying. It wasn't its putrid smell that startled both Arletha and Samuel nor was it the fact it crawled to the clock tower.

It was its face.

Its face was not like any others—not skull and muscles hiding its glowing red eyes.

Instead, sewn into its head was the face of someone familiar.

The owner of that certain scream.

Vashti.