Chapter 34: Into the Warren
By Brad's swift hand signal, the mass plunged forward, pouring into the black maw of the warren like a wave. Metal rang, boots pounded into compact earth, and the deep thunder of purpose rumbled down the tunnel. Even Max and Alex, still carrying the welts and gashes from their ignominious defeat, had pulled themselves into the fight. They huddled in tight now, mute, eyes ahead — pride and fear urging them on.
Ethan and Lirael were among the last to go in, allowing the others to storm ahead. The air became cooler and more humid as they entered, the sun setting fast behind them.
The entrance of the first chamber led into a system of branching tunnels, their mouths opening like the throat of some monstrous creature. The ground had the scuffed prints of boots and goblin clawed feet, sullied with dried blood and churned up mud. Scattered about were larger prints — deep and broad — that indicated the hobgoblins.
They looked at each other. Ethan pointed his head to the leftmost tunnel, and Lirael nodded.
"I will mark wall," she whispered, producing a length of chalk from her belt and scribbling a rapid cut along the coarse stone.
Ethan didn't stop her. In fact, the truth was that he didn't need it — the convenient little minimap on his system interface plotted each step. But if she wanted to have precautions, he wasn't going to deprive her of the sense of control. After all, in tight, twisting caverns such as this, bows had much less use; better she should feel a part of their advance.
They advanced further, their footsteps deadened by the rough ground. They turned left again at another fork, Lirael leaving another chalk mark.
The air changed, opening into a large room. In the distance, the ring of steel and the growling bellows of goblins echoed. A handful of adventurers battled in the center — blades shining, boots scuffling over loose rock as they stood their ground.
Ethan reined in his pace. "Should we help them?"
Lirael's keen gaze swept the fight. "No. Excess assistance will only lead to trouble. If they can manage it, they won't need to share loot."
Ethan nodded curtly. "Hmm, Let's proceed."
They edged around the perimeter of the combat, entering another passageway where darker shadows adhered to the walls. The noise of battle receded behind them.
Then the odor struck — the foul, gamey reek of hobgoblins.
Forms materialized out of the gloom ahead: massive figures, spotted skin, crude knives clutched in their fists. The leader roared and charged.
Ethan wasted no time. His sword flashed in a silky, brutal circle — and the body of the hobgoblin rent in two cleanly before it had even a chance to know what was occurring.
Another approached from the side, but Lirael's arrow hit its shoulder, making it stagger sufficiently for Ethan's second strike to finish it.
She gasped. It wasn't only his speed — his attacks had a precision and power that was almost impossible. Cutting cleanly through a hobgoblin was something most swordsmen couldn't possibly do without Herculean effort.
"You… you're amazing," she said, dropping her bow by about an inch.
Ethan blinked at her, nearly bewildered. "Huh? I thought that was normal for adventurers?"
She gazed at him for an instant, his truly astonished face somehow more revealing than his power. At last, she released a deep breath. "No, Ethan… I believe you're the unusual one in this case."
The final corpse of the hobgoblins landed with a slushy thud. Ethan was already peering into the shadows ahead when—
"Ethan, watch out!" Lirael's voice ripped through the air.
Out of the bend in the tunnel ahead, something enormous burst into sight — an ogre, its slouched mass thrashing against the walls of the cavern. The turn had concealed it completely. It had waited for them, as still and silent as a spider in its web.
Ethan spun, sword upraised half a breath, as a fist the size of a boulder crashed into him. The impact shook with a sound that could have been cracking rock. His arms took what they could, but the sheer power hurled him back like a ragdoll. He struck the opposite wall with enough force to dent it, dust and rock shards showering down on him until his form was gone completely.
It was a killing blow from Lirael's point of view. Her heart jolted panickingly.
"No!" The cry burst from her throat, harsh with fear. She drew back her bow, firing arrows as quickly as she could manage. Each shot struck the ogre's body, but they sunk shallow, hardly penetrating the skin.
The ogre wheeled upon her in a bellow of rage, blood-red eyes blazing with animal fury. Its great feet charged forward, each step shuddering loose rocks beneath it.
Lirael's breath caught. In the few days she'd known Ethan, she'd experienced something almost unheard-of — a friend she felt she could trust . And now… I'm useless… I can't do anything to stop it…
The ogre's shadow loomed over her—
A burst of wind. Powerful hands clamped on her shoulder and pulled her aside with impossible velocity. She staggered, turning, and saw Ethan standing between her and the creature.
"What the hell are you doing?" His tone was icy, cut like a knife.
"I— I was worried about you!" Her voice trembled, nearly a cry.
"Well, being worried doesn't drive you to suicide. Now stay here and provide cover."
The torch caught on his busted chestplate, mangled metal curved around the impact site. Blood ran in a thin line from the edge of his mouth down his jaw. His eyes, however — serene, almost annoyed, as if the ogre was more of a nuisance.
The ogre swung again — a hammering swipe that cleft the stone floor — but Ethan was already within its grasp, his sword slicing across its wrist in a spout of dark blood. The creature bellowed, backing up, but Ethan didn't relent. He spun, kneeing it in the abdomen, sending its great body stumbling.
An arrow shot by his ear and into the eye of the ogre. Lirael — still firing.
Ethan took advantage of the momentary distraction, launching himself onto the ogre's thigh and sprinting two steps up its body before driving his sword deep into the side of the beast's neck. The blade exploded out the other side, a fountain of hot, rank-smelling blood splashing him with scalding red.
The ogre stumbled, raking at the metal in its throat. Ethan wrenched the blade, then ripped it out in a vicious jerk. The beast fell to its knees, choking, before thudding forward with a crash that shook the earth.
There was silence, punctuated only by Ethan's careful footsteps as he moved towards her — dust, blood, and darkness stuck to his body like a second skin.
Ethan bridged the gap between them, his boots crunching on loose gravel. Walking, he surreptitiously bought a mid-grade healing potion from his system store, palming it in a smooth motion before pulling it out of his backpack as if it had always been there. Drinking silently, he uncorked it.
The liquid shone dimly as it trickled down his throat, and in front of Lirael's very eyes the torn wounds down his chest started to heal themselves. The blood at the side of his mouth dried up, leaving but dull stains on his skin.
He stood a step back from her.
Thinking he would reprimand her...
"I…" she began, her voice low. "I'm not worthy to be with you. I won't be able to assist you."
Ethan scowled, then moved forward and settled his hands on her shoulders. "Look at me."
Her eyes drifted up, reluctantly meeting his.
"Don't belittle yourself," he called, his voice even. "If it weren't for you, I couldn't have defended myself properly. That thing could have hurt me a great deal worse — possibly killed me. You being here… it reassures me. So be proud of that."
Lirael blinked at him in shock. The warmth in his words was not something she was accustomed to — not after all her years of adventuring. Most only viewed her as an archer, a tool. No one ever spoke to her like this before.
She suddenly saw just how close he was, his hands remaining on her shoulders, his eyes locked. Heat flooded to her cheeks. She opened her mouth to protest—
"But," Ethan went on, "About your weakness… we'll take care of that once we're away from here and safe."
Her eyes melted, the tears of hurt welling as she spoke in a whisper, "Thank you…"
"Hey, now don't be a child," he shot back, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "Stand tall. I'm already having enough trouble coping with one child."
He was thinking of Mary — Amelia's daughter.
Lirael's halted. Child? Her brain stuttered. Wait— his child? Is he wed? Does he already have a family? Oh gods… perhaps his wife's waiting for him somewhere? What am I even— She could feel her face flushing...it was her illusion mask that saved the day.
She was going to say something — anything — when—
A bitter, rasping screech came from the tunnel in front. Goblins again.
Ethan let go of her shoulders, his face set. "Later. We've got visitors."
Lirael blinked back into reality, quickly taking hold of her bow. Later… yes. Later. I'm certainly going to ask him about this later.