A Bored Lich

Chapter 62 - Carnage

Frey reached out to Doevm only to miss by inches. Seeing his friend get attacked, he jumped right down after him. He tumbled around in the dark eventually landing at a cave's entrance. He heard everyone follow behind him, but they didn't end up together. 'I'm an idiot,' he thought. 'I should have at least gathered a few of my men before jumping down. Oh well.' "Doevm!" He called into the dark cave. "Doevm are you there? Say something!" No response. A few minutes of walking, he heard someone. He hurried to it only to see it was a Ghoul. It hissed and ran at him only to get a spear through its heart. Frey didn't have to wipe the blood off. His spear absorbed it. "Doevm!"

He found three more Ghouls. All it took was a few strands of life essence and they were disemboweled. Again he called, "Doevm where are you?"

Every time he thought he heard someone it was always a Ghoul. He killed everything in his path. Twelve hours later, he sat down and rested. His throat hurt from the yelling. Whenever he called, a voice softer than a breeze came out. While there were pillars in the cave, they couldn't hide his massive frame. It was like an ogre trying to hide behind a pole. He sat in the middle of the entrance surrounded by his latest victims. 'I'll just shut my eyes for a little bit.' He closed his eyes and slept while sitting up. Right as he felt the euphoria of sleep about to take him and his problems away, he heard some claws scrape against stone. His eyes jolted open and he got into a stance. Two Ghouls dashed into the cave. This time Frey got a scratch on his armor, but he managed to kill them. By now his entire body was covered in blood. Since he didn't want to use the little water, he had to clean himself, he left it. He sat down again. This time he didn't close his eyes. He stared into the darkness while his breathing stabilized. He remained in a half-conscious state for hours. Occasionally a hungry Ghoul would come near. He added another body to the pile.

After resting enough, he got up and continued his journey: "Doevm! Where are you?" He didn't believe Doevm was dead. Knowing him, he was probably the king of the Ghouls by now. He would be able to pinpoint their weakness in seconds and exploit them. Frey felt like an idiot next to him. He was an idiot. The only thing he was good for was swinging his spear. No matter what, he had to be better than Doevm in at least that one thing. Even if Frey's strength was a gift, even if he was older by two years, he took pleasure in his strength. Doevm, however, was not as strong. If he couldn't find a weakness for these Ghouls, he wouldn't last long. "Doevm!" Another majority of a day trickled by with him just walking and yelling. Another pack of Ghouls came into sight. Another few severed heads hit the floor. Usually his breathing would recover by now, but he hadn't rested enough. As he wasn't an adult, he needed his sleep. While he couldn't really see anything, he knew his vision was getting hazy once every hour or so. "Doevm!" His throat was raw. It hurt to talk. Air that had been trapped here for years in the hot forest filled his lungs every breath. He took out his rations and downed some of them. With his energy partially replenished, he continued. By now his long brown hair came undone. It moped over his forehead. No matter how many times he tried to put it back in a man-bun it kept undoing itself.

While considering whether to cut his hair or not, he called even louder for Doevm. Ever so slowly, so little did he lean on his spear that he barely noticed it. It made a tiny tap. He had been awake for over twenty-four hours and had fought for a total of eight. No matter what he ate, only proper rest could make him recover. 'If I'm in this bad shape, I can't imagine what Doevm is experiencing right now. He could probably live. He probably found the other squad members by now. He probably evolved to use echolocation using some strange method. He always does stuff like that.' He smiled. 'I want to be able to do that.' His speed increased. 'I don't want to be behind him. Back at the Virility household, I never cared if someone was stronger than me or not until he joined. Now I feel like…like I need to beat him.' His thoughts stopped as he came across yet another group of Ghouls.

…

'They're like ants,' Frey thought as he cleaned off the blood from his armor. Although he doubted the material would rust after just a little blood, especially since it was made from a master blacksmith, he didn't want to take any risks. He sat in a circle of three corpses. He leaned against the pillar wall. Ever so slowly, his eyes closed. His spear drooped. 'How long have I been down here? I can't tell. It's so dark.' He uncorked his water sac. The last few drops dripped on his dry tongue and down his parched throat. He had packed enough for a week but after constant movement had to go through most of it. His mind drifted away again. 'Just for a few minutes.' At that second, it was like his entire body fell through the ground and into the depths of the planet.

'No!' something inside him screamed. He stood up ready for a fight only to see his victims.

'There's that voice again,' he thought. 'First it screamed at me at the Manticore fight and now here; I wonder if Doevm gets this as well.' He got up unaware that he had just slept for a few hours. It had now been three days since he had fallen into the pit. He opened his bag and downed the last of his rations. 'I'm out of food and water. I could make it to the surface but then I would be too ashamed to face Jameson. What would I say? I'm sorry I got hungry and I couldn't look for your son. I had to leave him behind. I broke the conduct of the Virility guards. How would I face my sister? How would I prove myself to be better than him?'

A second wind cooled his temper. 'I'll go the rest of this day searching for him. After that, I'll head back to the surface.' He stumbled around in the dark. He stopped calling for Doevm as that attracted everything but the subject. His footsteps weren't as loud anymore. They were quiet as was his demeanor. 'You better not be dead.'

An hour later he slid his boots off. He couldn't see the blisters, but he could feel each and every one of them. The cool stone helped relieve some of the pain. 'I swear to the goddess you better not be dead.' For six hours he shambled through the dark until he came to the largest opening he had ever seen. It could easily fit the Pit inside, maybe two. About twenty Ghouls were packed into a tight ball wrestling over something. Frey didn't want to know what it was. He turned around but a slight gleam caught his eye. He squinted and managed to make out a shin guard that matched his own. Next to it was a skeleton with half of its flesh torn off. He couldn't tell the identity of the person but in his state of half-sanity he was certain.

"You bastards," he spat. Blood red life essence poured through him. Beads of red sweat dripped out of his pores. Each one of his fingers dug into his spear. Unbeknownst to him, he had given himself a few splinters just by his monstrous grip. His teeth grinded against one another like he was ready to tear into his opponents. 'So what if I'm tired? So what if I'm dehydrated? So what if I'm hungry? All of you, from this point on…' just imagining what he would do he glanced at each one. 'You head is the perfect size for my hand. I can smash you into the rocks.' Thoughts like these circled in his head. He took a step forward as the twenty Ghouls rushed at him at once. "Bring it!" He raised his spear, ready for carnage.