28. The Fallen Fortress
[VISAGE Aspect: DREAMER]
[MP Cost: 0]
[Karma Cost: 100 ? per second]
[Aspect Description: Channel the Aspect of the Dreamer to imbue the wielder with powers of affirmation. Convert all damage to Erudite type. Gain [Regen]. Gain 20% universal Mitigation. Increase Poise damage of all attacks by 10% per second of continuous channeling, up to a maximum of 300%.]
***
[117!]
The first tick was modest in damage, but it still elicited a muffled scream from inside the castle, as Vetala’s eyes disappeared behind black flames.
[182!]
The damage ramped up, now buffed by both [Tribulation] and a percentage of Serac’s missing HP. The screaming continued, as stone blocks fell away, allowing tongues of [Catharsis]’s fire to shoot out of the castle wall. Looks like someone’s trying to punch their way out of the driver’s seat!
[365!]
The third tick coincided with one section of the wall collapsing altogether. The slit that once framed Vetala’s eyes lost its shape to a cascade of burning rubble. Amidst the rubble fell a distinctly humanoid figure, one that flailed its arms at the flames all around itself as it dropped to the ground at speed.
The figure hit the pink desert floor with a thud (along with a chunk of HP lost to fall damage), then fell limp. [Catharsis]’s black flames also faded then, leaving behind only Vetala—Ferryman of the Desolation—in his full, naked glory.
He was a sorry sight. A pale, scrawny thing with knobby joints—like a shrunken, withered version of the Jailers of the Damnatorium.
Speaking of Jailers… Serac allowed herself the briefest of glances toward the castle’s ramparts. To no one’s surprise, Zacko had already taken the initiative to climb up the rubble and bring the fight to the javelin-chuckers, thus leaving the Rakshasa on the ground free to focus on the boss man.
Vetala, for his part, made no effort to fight back as Serac shifted her aim to his person. Instead, he visibly cowered at her approach, covering his pale wrinkly head with his knobby hands, as if that could make him bulletproof.
Had he already given up, or was this some kind of trick? It didn’t much matter to Serac at this point, as there was little else to do other than empty the rest of the cylinder, cycling through the unimbued bullets before she could rearm Chamber One.
[111!], [111!], [111!], [111!]
Vetala-Ashvanaga’s combined HP decremented by modest slices, yet the Ferryman only continued to shrink into himself. Is this how a Hellspawn boss is meant to behave? The sight of it—and her own active role in this one-sided bullying—disturbed Serac to no end.
Acting on a sudden, irrational impulse, she redirected the sixth and final shot, letting the bullet land harmlessly into the ground next to Vetala’s head. Vetala didn’t move an inch.
And that was when Serac knew that this so-called boss hadn’t just given up on the fight. Stripped of the absolute protection provided by his castle walls, Vetala had completely lost the will to live—to suffer the endless toil of his hell-spawned and hell-bound existence. He was, quite literally, asking for the Wayfarer to finish him off.
Oh boy, Serac mused grimly. This isn’t just your regular Poise-break. I’d go so far as to say this dude is Zen-broken. A lost cause.
Through it all, Serac had continued to lose health to [Bleed]. [4!], [4!], [4!], … By now, her own red bar was at a size that made it difficult to estimate if enough HP remained for her to tank [Catharsis]’s self-damage.
Yet, by now, she also didn’t much care. She just wanted to get this ‘fight’ over with.
[Chamber One: CATHARSIS]
[280!], [453!], [905!] -> [1638!]
Whether Vetala was Poise- or Zen-broken, Pathsight’s critical damage calculator cared naught for the distinction. This second round of [Catharsis] proved more than enough to strip away the rest of Vetala-Ashvanaga’s HP. The Ferryman’s scrawny figure dissolved into Souldust even before the black flames faded—as if its occupant soul couldn’t wait for the release of death.
[GREATER ABERRANT SMITED]
[Waystation Privilege awarded. Current charge: 1]
[3120 ?], [112 ?]
Serac’s share of the smiting reward, as well as the bit of Karma she’d lost to Vetala in the previous fight, flowed in together to bring her Liminal total to a cool [3724 ?]. She attuned to her health bar, and saw that only a barely detectable sliver of it still remained—so little HP that a strong gust of wind could probably finish her off.
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Out of a morbid sense of curiosity, she half-wanted to see what would happen to her Liminal Karma if she were to die right now. How would Pathsight account for a death caused by enemies who themselves were already dead? Alas, by then, the [Bleed] effect had run its course, which meant Serac would have to find some other way to conduct her experiment.
She then shook her head vigorously, trying to rid herself of silly thoughts and a taste of victory embittered by Vetala’s pathetic final moments. The important thing was that she and Zacko had won. Now, they could safely make their way back to Last Sorrow and ingrain the latest of their hard-earned—
Crreeeaaakkkk…
Serac looked up with alarm, suddenly and violently remembering just why she’d fought this particular boss in the first place.
Perhaps the blood loss had gotten to her after all. For the thought of Vetala’s Infernal Steed and how it might hold the key to crossing the Fibrinous Canyon had completely slipped her mind.
Yet, even now, the castle rose to its feet, Poise-mended. The razor-like teeth at its foundation churned anew, revving up to resume its delivery run across the desert.
For unlike its castellan, Ashvanaga hadn’t given up. It still remained very much in its physical (yet partially damaged) form, and it wouldn’t stop until it got to its destination—or until a pair of Wayfarers completed their attempted siege.
“Oh shit,” Serac murmured to herself, utterly caught off guard. “Now what do we do?”
As much as the Wayfarers had strategized about Poise-breaking Ashvanaga and taking advantage of Vetala’s ‘weak spot’, they’d spoken very little of what to do about winning a living castle over to their cause. For one thing, they couldn’t rightly predict what would actually happen to Ashvanaga upon Vetala’s death. For another, well, just how would anyone go about taming a castle, anyhow?
“Well, don’t just stand there!” Zacko’s frantic yell snapped Serac out of her stupor. “Hurry and get up here!”
The Manusya, thanks to his earlier decision to deal directly with the Jailers, was already up on the ramparts, even as the castle rumbled to life beneath his feet. Serac, who frankly had no clue what else to do, hastened to obey.
The climb itself proved to be no issue, as Zacko’s [Hammer] along with Vetala’s clumsy escape had left behind handholds and footholds aplenty. With her mind completely blank, Serac concentrated merely on taking things one move at a time.
She got up to the ramparts and joined Zacko at the battlement on the rightmost corner. Even in her distracted state, she managed to appreciate the view that spread before her, as well as the wind that lapped at her battle-worn body.
Having been born a Penitent rather than ferried to the Damnatorium later in life, this was her first time riding a vehicle of any kind (if one could ascribe such a term to a castle). The experience would have been almost pleasant, were it not for the little issue with the direction of travel.
Now that she’d had some time to sit with her new reality, Serac had taken the liberty to ‘scan’ the Vetala-less Ashvanaga using Pathsight. It now showed a slightly altered yet still unhelpful label of:
[Designation: ASHVANAGA the Fallen Fortress]
[Steed Class: INFERNAL]
There was no HP bar to speak of, which was a feature this version of Ashvanaga now shared with the Rakshasas of Last Sorrow. Serac understood this to mean that Pathsight no longer viewed it as an appropriate subject for smiting, and she didn’t want to find out what might happen if she tried to smite it anyway.
“So,” Zacko began their impromptu strategy session, too little too late, “ideas?”
“I… well… do you think we could just… ride it out? I mean, what else can we do?”
“Ride it out? You mean all the way back to the Damnatorium?”
“Well, yeah. If this thing’s just trying to finish its job or whatever, wouldn’t it eventually turn back around and go back over the Canyon? If we can somehow pick up the Sorrowers along the way—”
“I’m going to stop you right there. First, you want us to ride this thing to the Damnatorium, where we’ll get surrounded by Jailers waiting for the delivery to come in. Don’t forget that you’re literally on your last breaths, and I’m not in much better shape, either. Next, assuming we miraculously survive the drop-off and keep riding this back to the Canyon, you want the Sorrowers to just… hop on? All thirty something of them? Without any forewarning or coordination? I kinda doubt you’ve thought this one through…”
“That’s because I haven’t thought it through!” Serac said hotly. “You got a better idea?”
“I mean, it’s obvious that we gotta find a way to control this thing. Take its reins, if you will. Failing that, we gotta at least bring it to a stop… somehow… without permanently breaking it.”
“I hope you realize you haven’t said anything remotely useful. My thing might’ve been dumb, but at least it was actionable. Something we could actually try.”
“Hey, don’t get pissy with me. I’m just trying to think it through, alright?”
“Well, think faster! Because this damn castle isn’t slowing down anytime soon…”
Zacko chose to ignore this latest outburst, which was just as well. Serac too had tired of the fruitless back-and-forth, and her light-headedness was getting worse and worse.
“What does Trippy think about this?”
Serac raised an eyebrow at Zacko, genuinely taken aback. As far as she could tell, this was the first time the Manusya had actively sought out a sentient six-shooter’s opinion.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Zacko said, somehow managing his trademark smile despite his predicament. “I admit I’m out of ideas. And I wondered if your walking glossary might know something that we don’t.”
“Well, I guess it’s worth a shot,” Serac said, somehow managing a noncommittal shrug despite her predicament. “Trippy, have you been listening? Any sage words of advice? Hello? Trippy?”
The ‘Special Guidance Protocol’, usually so quick and eager to help, remained silent for some time—long enough for Serac to wonder, along with a familiar tightening of her chest, if Trippy Version 2 had left her too.
“… I wonder, Wayfarer, if I might be allowed to talk to it.”
“… What?”
“What? What did he say?”
Serac raised an index finger to shush Zacko, then turned away, as if doing so could let her better focus on the voice in her head.
“Can you say that again, Trippy? I’m not sure I heard you right. You wanted to—?”
“Talk to the Infernal Steed.”
“… Talk how? You realize it’s a castle, right?”
“… I’m not sure I entirely agree.”
“Wait, what? What is there to disagree about? You can see it for yourself, can’t you? Even Pathsight calls it the Fallen For—”
“Apologies, Wayfarer. I can’t quite explain it myself, but… would you let me try? I feel as though… I know this soul. I know who Ashvanaga is.”