Chapter 177: Fumble

“I am defeateeed!” The stone golem with an unconscious fae jutting out of the top of its head cried in its rumbling voice, slowly – and dramatically – sinking into the ground, leaving behind the unconscious body of the last of the four gate guardians.

Will and Travis shared a glance and shrugged before they stepped around the fae and continued on their way, arriving at a massive, ornate double door decorated with the bones of heroes who had come this far.

There was an actual sign that said so.

I wonder if this guy would be interested in owning a theater and doing horror-themed shows? Will wondered to himself as he sized it up. In person, it all seemed a little overdone, but Will supposed it was like how actors caked themselves in makeup, so that people could make out their features from a distance.

After a bit of considering, Will figured Mordaine would want his guests to show a little bravado at this juncture, so he kicked the double doors open and strode inside with confidence, squinting at the miasmatic glow.

The throneroom was built around the Key site.

In Will’s experience, Key sites were rather large, at least 100 feet tall from base to the tip, which meant that Mordaine must’ve built up around the key site until only the last five feet jutted up out of the floor of his castle.

Stairs had been carved into the volcanic stone leading up to the flat surface that blasted Miasma straight up into the sky, and in the center was a throne seemingly crafted entirely of bones.

Will was willing to bet that it was wood or perhaps steel rod with bones layered outside. Bone wasn’t a great material for making furniture.

On the throne was a man wearing rich black clothes with crimson red lining.

Will’s gaze landed on Mordaine and The System began whispering in his ear.

Tarnish of the Mind.

Without supervision, the caretakers of this Floor have grown beyond their original purpose, engaging in a macabre mimicry of their former masters, hoarding power while choking off the flow of Miasma to higher Floors. Cull any showing aberrant behavior and drive the rest away from the Key Site.

Will shook that statement away. He wasn’t interested in combat right this instant, but he did take note that the System message seemed to confirm his suspicion that the fae were an engineered race of caretakers rather than humans who had adapted to Debt.

“Is The System telling you to kill me?” Mordaine asked, his soft baritone filtered down to Will and Travis as if he were standing right beside them. The Fae Lord was resting his head on his palm, slouched in his chair with calculated ease.

“I’m sure you get that a lot,” Will said, slipping his tomahawk into his belt.

“It is the natural order of things. Immortality preserves the body but rots the mind. I too, will one day need to be put down like a diseased animal.”

“I suppose?” Will said, clearing his throat.

“Now prepare yourself,” Mordaine said, rising to his feet. “Because you face-“

“-I would like to extend the Fae Lord Mordaine an invitation to spectate as I kill the Fae Lord Kincaid, tomorrow at noon.” Will interrupted, risking the Debt in order to forestall another fight.

The fae lord frowned, head cocked.

“Wait, what?” The fae asked. “That’s what you’re here for? An invitation?”

“Yep.”

“You could’ve sent a letter, or Abyss, you could’ve told Gerald.”

“Is that the black gate guardian?” Will asked.

“Yeah.”

Will and Travis shared a glance.

“…We told him.”

“GERALD!” Mordaine shouted, leaving the beam of Miasma and stalking down the volcanic stairs, taking a sharp left turn at the bottom and ducking into a side door.

Will and Travis waited awkwardly as there was some faint shouting and a few cries of pain before Mordaine came back in with a beefy fae caught by the ear. From the bandage over his neck and the dark armor from the waist down, Will could tell it was the black gate guardian.

“Did these gentlemen tell you they were here to deliver a message!?” Mordaine demanded, pointing at Will and Travis with the hand that wasn’t gripping the lunk’s ear.

“…Yes.” the fae admitted quietly.

“You told us they attacked you!”

“They did!” Gerald whined.

“After he attacked us.” Will clarified.

“GERALD! How many times have I specifically told you to let messengers through!?”

“But they’re not dressed like messengers.” Gerald said, wincing. “I thought they were trying to take advantage of our good nature to deceive you, father.”

Are all four guardians Mordaine’s children? Even the giant spider? Will wondered.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“Bah, get back to your rest,” Mordaine let go of his son’s ear and kicked the oversized boy back through the door, climbing back up to his throne in a huff.

“We thought you were here as Climbers, not messengers.” Mordaine said once he settled back into his chair, tapping his fingers on his cheek as he studied them.

“You intend to kill Kincaid, huh?”

“Yessir.” Will said.

“Were any of my guardians particularly difficult for you to defeat?”

Will shook his head.

“Hmm…Alright. Yes, I’d like to see that overripe cancerous fungus taken down a peg or two. At the very least it’ll be entertaining. I’ll be there.”

Will bowed and Travis followed suit.

“Then we will be on our way-“

“IF!” Mordaine continued, his face splitting into a manic grin as he raised a single taloned finger. “You can escape from the labyrinth of bones!”

A trap door opened beneath them…but Will and Travis continued standing in midair as Will locked the terrain in place beneath his feet.

Will narrowed his eyes as a wisp of frustration bubbled up into his chest.

Given how much power the cannonballs have, each shot should destroy a support pillar and large chunks of the wall beyond it. I could probably reduce Mordaine’s prized castle to rubble in about fifteen seconds.

Carve it away from the key site piece by piece. Cannonball-sized chunk by chunk.

Drawing on Bakton’s lessons, Will made it perfectly clear what he intended to do, leading Mordaine’s attention with his calculated gaze contemplating the pillars supporting the roof as Will placed himself appropriately, picturing himself dodging a collapsing ceiling so accurately that Mordaine could see it too.