The Last Experience Point

Chapter 153: The Rescue Pt. I

There were screams: a lot of screams. Zach could hear them clearly as he sped his way down a narrow, spiraling flight of stairs. At first, the pained, howling cries seemed to be calling out one after the next, but soon, Zach started hearing them at irregular intervals. Sometimes, there’d be stretches of quiet where the only sounds were his measured breathing and his feet stepping on what looked like ancient stone. Other times, there’d be a series of yelling voices all blaring out at once as his eight imp cards, which he’d set to Besiege mode, dealt with the Guild of Gentlemen’s forces up above that had tried to slow him down.

“No!” a high-pitched, male voice yelled out, his words carrying far enough that Zach could hear it even as he continued to descend lower into this dungeon-prison. “No! Wait! Noooooooo!”

“He-he-he-he-he!”

Zach gritted his teeth. To say he did not like doing this would be a vast understatement of his disgust. He hated this. And with each death, the weight in his chest grew heavier. Yet he could not afford to slow down. This wasn’t the time to regret his actions. By now, the Guild of Gentlemen were aware of his presence and what he’d come to do. More so, he could hear from the Comm chatter in his ear that they were planning to shift some of their higher level and more formidable forces over here to deal with him. This meant he had to get in and out as fast as humanly possible if he wanted to be gone before they arrived.

“We need backup!” a voice shouted over the Comm.

“What’s going on down there?” asked another voice. “An entire compound up against one boy. How are you all failing so miserably?”

“You don’t understand! You—”

“He-he-he-he-he!”

Numerous voices all flooded the Comm line, and for the moment, Zach was unable to understand what any of them were saying as they all shouted over one another. But it didn’t matter, did it? No, Zach didn’t need to hear what they were saying to understand the sentiment. The people he’d unleashed his cards on were totally unprepared. They were inexperienced and, in many cases, young guild members who had never before stepped foot in a dungeon in their entire life. These were people whose only real connection to the adventuring world was leveling up via carefully curated mobs on private estates while under the guidance of an instructor. These were not people capable of dealing with more vicious, aggressive mobs such as those found in dungeons or basically anywhere else.

Moving as quickly as he could, Zach continued to hurry his way downwards. Due to the shape of the stairwell, this wasn’t as easy as it normally would’ve been. The space around him was so narrow that an average-sized person wouldn’t be able to fully extend their arms to both sides of themselves. And given the fact that the stairs were spiraling, this meant his body was in a constant state of making one big, sharp turn, limiting how quickly he was able to progress farther into this subterranean, human-built dungeon.

As he neared the bottom, it occurred to him that the screaming seemed to have come to an end. Zach turned his head to glance upwards. In a way that was similar to the dragon raid, he could now see the names and outlines of his cards even through walls. Far up above, he saw a swarm of moving, solid-green-colored shapes that seemed to be dropping lower and lower towards his position. This, Zach took to mean that they’d finished off any last traces of resistance and were now making their way back to him, traveling the very same stairwell that he himself was currently moving through. Due to his head start, his cards were all lagging a bit behind. Hopefully, they’d catch up, because he couldn’t afford to slow down and wait for them. He needed to keep going.

This’ll all be over soon.

Reaching the bottom of the cramped, spiral stairwell, he rushed out of a rounded entryway and into a long, narrow, and uncomfortably humid hall with prison-like cages to both sides of him. The cells looked as though no one had occupied them in many centuries. Actually, this place kind of reminded Zach of B2 in Yorna’s, except it wasn’t nearly as dark or haunting in appearance, and there were no skeletal remains or scenes of torture and death to be found. No, there was just one empty, decrepit cage after the next. But more importantly, now that he’d exited the stairwell, he was finally able to take off at a run.

With little time to spare, Zach darted his way across the stone-floored, ancient hallway, starting off at a jog and then blasting forward. To both his left and right, he zipped by cell after cell, all of which looked to be crumbling and inhumane for modern use. Eager to be done with this, Zach allowed himself to travel as fast as his legs could move—or at least he intended to do so. Yet just when he finally began to pick up speed, he reached the end of the hallway and bolted straight into another stairwell, this one virtually identical to the previous.

Now, Zach found himself once more slowing down and making a constant “turn” as he descended deeper into this labyrinthine-like, hellish place. Fortunately, this particular spiral staircase was a great deal shorter than the last one, and in no time at all, Zach reached the bottom. Once there, he hurried his way through another open entryway and into another hall. And this one, he noted, was darker, damper, and wider than the previous had been. It was also hotter and more humid and seemed to continue on for longer.

Gods, just how big is this place? he wondered, becoming both worried and annoyed. Pressed for time, he moved even faster.

Like before, he raced his way across yet another corridor, taking note of how much worse things seemed to get the farther in he traveled. The lighting was poorer, and the cells were now so degraded that, in some cases, a hypothetical prisoner would be able to simply slip out from between large gaps in the bars, which had become warped and bent or were missing entirely in some cases. Clearly, however it was that this archaic, antiquated prison had been built, modern-day Galterrans—or at least those in the Guild of Gentleman—did not know how to repair it. And the deeper Zach went, the worse this state of disrepair seemed to become. Realizing that Vim had spent more than two weeks in this place, a chill snaked its way down Zach’s spine.

I don’t even want to be here for five minutes, he thought as he spotted numerous cockroaches crawling up and down the mossy, cracked, and dilapidated stone walls. I can’t imagine actually spending weeks here.

Unless the prison radically changed once Zach got farther inside, he was beginning to get the sense that Vim Alazar must have been subject to some really horrific treatment—that he’d willingly submitted himself too as well, Zach recalled.

Right around a day and a half after the nuclear weapon struck Ogre’s Axe, the little man had surrendered of his own will in order to spare his people from being hit with a second bomb, and he’d been held here ever since. Actually, now that Zach thought about it, what if Vim refused to leave when Zach got to him?

Shit! I should’ve thought about that beforehand!

Since Vim had voluntarily surrendered himself to the Guild of Gentleman, it occurred to Zach that he might not be willing to escape. After all, from Vim’s perspective, doing so might provoke the Guild of Gentleman into launching another one of their repugnant weapons at Giant’s Fall. And although no such weapon existed—at least not yet, anyway—Vim could not possibly know that. Zach could tell him, of course, but the time needed to both explain this and convince him it was the truth might be more than Zach could afford. Therefore, Zach decided that if Vim wouldn’t go with him the first time he was asked, he would just pick him up and carry him out of here. “No” was not an answer he was willing to accept. Zach had killed so many people already tonight, and he had not done so just to leave Vim here in this dungeon.

There’s no way I’m going back without him. No way in hell!

Zach reached the end of the hall, and this time, he was not greeted with another stairwell to descend. Instead, there was a large, double-doored entryway into another section of the dungeon. Holding his forearm out in front of himself, Zach blasted through it, causing a bang from the impact and a secondary bang as the doors were flung open and each slammed into opposite sides of the wall. With that, Zach continued on, running down a stretch of quiet hall that was perfectly identical to the one he’d just traversed. Each of his footsteps left an echo as his feet stomped down on the stone.

Moving faster and faster, the world around Zach began to take on a slight blur as he was finally able to enter into a blazing-fast sprint. Now, the cells to his left and right whipped by way too quickly for him to see them as anything more than a passing blip. They simply rushed by him as he ran forward. Then, at the end of this hallway, there was another double-doored entryway, and Zach really let this one have it. Not bothering to slow down even slightly, he bashed his way through it, knocking both doors off their hinges and sending them slamming into the already chipped stone wall on both sides. This happened yet again as he reached another end, and another after that one.

Distantly, Zach marveled at just how different Galterra must have been thousands of years ago if the humans of that time had felt it necessary to build a dungeon-prison that could house so many damn people. Nowadays, Zach doubted this place ever got used except for extraordinary circumstances. But thousands of years ago, during a time where everyone either leveled up or died, a place like this must’ve been necessary for dealing with dangerous people or criminals.

It’s hard to imagine hundreds or thousands of adventurers locked away at once.

Now that he was charging forward as fast as he could possibly run while still also keeping his balance, Zach barged his way through four more identical sections of hallway before at last seeing what looked like a single-doored entrance to another stairwell ahead. In anticipation, he began to slow down, cutting his speed significantly right around the halfway point through the corridor. He then slowed even more as he crossed the three-quarters mark. But as he did so, a loud, startling voice cried out.

“Now!” the voice shouted. “Attack!”

Zach, seeing movement in the corner of his eyes, hurriedly drew his sword as he spotted two men leap out of an opened cell to his left while two more leapt out of the one to his right. All four were wielding falchions, all four had been completely hidden inside the cell, and all four attacked him in unison. At the same time, the single-doored entryway to the stairwell burst open, and two additional men and a woman filed into the room. One of the men was wielding a spear, and the other gripped a wooden staff in both his hands. The woman accompanying them also had a staff.

They’re trying to ambush me.

“Big mistake!” Zach shouted at them.

The first guy to reach him was the youngest of the bunch: probably just a few months older than Zach if not the exact same age. He was short with red hair and brown eyes. He struck out from Zach’s left while a similarly young swordsman attacked from his right. Zach watched as the sword to his left approached from above and streaked down towards his head while the one to his right was jutting out forward for a lunging attack. He swore. Once again, he’d have to stain himself in blood.

Defensively, Zach swung his blade upwards and knocked aside the falchion off to his left, then immediately swung it back down onto the one lunging towards him. This one, he struck with enough force that he not only succeeded in guarding against the attack, but he caused the falchion’s wielder to half turn around and nearly fall over as his body followed his sword and both were sent low to the floor.

The other two falchion-wielding men, whose attacks immediately followed the first two, rushed in and lashed out at Zach with two high-to-low slices, both of which were clumsy, poorly executed, and not synchronized. All Zach had to do to defend himself was lean backwards and to his left two times one after the other, and the result was that both swords cut the air in front of his chin. Farther ahead, near the stairwell, a man was rushing at him with a spear while another man and a woman, both wielding a staff, were chanting, their staves aglow.

“Get him!” the red-haired guy with the brown eyes yelled. He spun his torso around and lifted his blade high, and he delivered an incredibly powerful slash that caused the air to make a swooshing sound as the blade ripped its way towards Zach’s neck. Rather than dodge, Zach raised his own sword to guard, absorbing the attack. Then he blocked another slash coming in from his right—and then another on his left. Before long, he began to slowly backpedal while whipping his blade around to defend against four different people at once. This resulted in a near-constant clanging of sword against sword as Zach, with his back straight, and his mind focused, deflected dozens of fast strikes one after the next.

The red-haired guy came in low, so Zach, who’d only just raised his blade to the level of his forehead to block a different attack from another of his assailants, made a very fast circular motion with his sword by quickly spinning his wrists, enabling him to block the red-haired man’s blade in time, the two swords clashing right near Zach’s hip. Then, an instant later, the red-haired guy’s buddy tried to cut off Zach’s right ear, so Zach flicked his wrists a second time, rotating his blade and easily deflecting the falchion before it could cut into him. After this, Zach ducked beneath a third strike from another young member of the guild and swatted away a fourth. This, he repeated several times over, as the four sword-wielding guild-members pressed him.

Eventually, two of the guild members made as if to attack—only for it to turn out to be a feint. Abruptly, both leapt off to each side of Zach, opening a path; concealed behind them emerged a slightly older—but still young—brown-haired man wearing a bandana; the man was charging forward with a spear, and he seemed to want to have taken Zach by surprise. Unfortunately for him, it didn’t work. Zach leapt up into the air, high enough so that he rose above the man’s shoulders, while the man, whose spear was still fully held out with his arms extended, ran straight past him. Zach then landed while the man came to a rough, sudden stop, and now he turned back around, lurched forward, and tried to run Zach through yet again. But this time, Zach wasn’t having it.

Zach spun his body around full circle while dropping down to his knees. Then, continuing his spin, he kicked out his left foot and delivered a powerful sweep, which connected with both of the man’s ankles and knocked him cleanly off his feet. Even as he fell, Zach was already shooting back up to his own feet and flipping over his blade so that it pointed downwards with his wrists wrapped tightly around the base of his sword. With that, the moment the man’s back hit the floor, Zach dropped down to his knees a second time, plunging his blade directly into the man’s chest, piercing him all the way through as the man spat out blood and made gargling sounds.

“Tem!” the staff-wielding woman cried. “No! Gods, no!”

Zach spared a quick glance over his shoulder. From the end of this woman’s staff came a high-pitched whistling sound, and now, an elongated, zig-zagging, and crackling projectile of brightly glowing green energy snapped its way across the hall, moving from where she stood before the stairwell’s entrance door to where Zach was ripping his blade free of the spear-wielding man’s chest while the four falchion-armed guys closed in on him again. All four fanned out and struck out at him at the same time.

Keeping his cool, Zach made quick, decisive, and calculated movements. Above him and to his left, he raised his weapon and blocked a sword strike that looked aimed at his forehead. A clang filled the room as he knocked the weapon away. Then he jumped directly backwards; an instant later, the red-haired guy’s sword made a perfectly downwards slice, the tip of his sword just a few inches away from Zach’s nose. At this point, the other two moved in to deliver sword attacks of their own—but they did not reach him before the mage-woman’s green, zigzagging projectile did.

Zach shifted his body forward, taking a fast, wide step in the direction of the magical attack, and then he sliced it with his blade, causing it to dissipate into nothingness. Using all his speed, Zach then whipped his blade as fast as he could, blocking two fast falchion strikes from the red-haired kid, the first heading towards his right hip and the second bearing down on his scalp. Then the red-haired guy, as though panicked, unleashed four more strikes back-to-back, and Zach matched each one of them with a counter attack of his own, causing four pings to ring out in the hallway.

“Fuck!” he shouted out, his eyes becoming enlarged with fear.

He pulled back, and Zach sensed an opportunity to strike. But first, he paused to drop all the way down to his knees while simultaneously leaning backwards as what appeared to be a fiery projectile in the shape of a gigantic, clenched fist twice the size of Zach’s head scorched the air above him before disappearing farther down the hallway behind. Then Zach threw himself flat onto his back and rolled away from the four falchion-wielding guild members who seemed to sense an opportunity of their own. Unfortunately for them, Zach was back on his feet before they could reach him.

“I’ve had enough of this shit,” he growled. “That’s it!”

Having decided to put an end to this, Zach whipped his sword with tremendous ferocity, crashing it into a rival attack that came from one of the falchion-wielding guild members to his left. Their two swords collided, and the man’s weapon was not only deflected, but he lost his grip on the blade. An instant later, Zach heard it crash onto the stone floor some distance away. Having disarmed the man, Zach then shot out his right leg and delivered a front kick into his chest, causing the man’s entire body to blast backwards and crash into the prison bars of an adjacent cell. At the same time, one of the falchion-wielding men to his right went at him again.

This time, Zach weaved to the right, dodging a vertical slash, and then he returned with a slash of his own, attacking the man’s left side. The man, to his credit, managed to shift his stance and turn his own blade to guard. So Zach shifted his in turn and went at his right side. This, too, he managed to guard against. Zach ducked beneath a return strike aimed at his head, then clashed with the man once more before finally finding an opening. Spinning half around, he cut the man’s midsection fully open, and the man screamed as he dropped his sword and grabbed at his stomach. Zach lifted his blade high and brought it down straight on top of his scalp, splitting it apart and killing him.

“No!” the female mage screamed. “No! Panny! No, Gods, why!” Tears in her eyes, she extended her staff and unleashed another zigzagging, brightly glowing streak of energy at him, which he jumped to the side to avoid.

“You bastard!” shouted the man to his left, whom he’d kicked into the cell. He reached out and tried to grab Zach despite being unarmed. In response, Zach twirled his blade so that it pointed straight in front of him, and then he stepped forward and towards the man while running his sword into his gut, piercing it all the way through and killing him.

But something happened upon this man’s death. Rather than fall to his knees, he somehow collapsed in such a way that his arms got caught on the prison cell's bars, and his mouth drooped all the way open. The result was that he died in the throes of a violent scream, the pain in his expression preserved even in death. Held up by the bars, he became something of a sick, dead ornament: a testament to Zach’s violence and ruthlessness.

And Zach couldn’t stand it. He’d had enough. The sight of another ended life—one slain by his hand—became too much for him to keep going on the way he currently was. Everything he’d done until now was by necessity. But the three people he’d just killed—did they really have to die? Did he need to kill them the way he’d killed so many others tonight? Suddenly, Zach realized something important. He realized that that the situation had now changed from what it had been on his way over here.

Before deciding to rescue Vim, he’d known what was at risk. He known what he would have to do. And he’d done it. He’d done what it had taken for him to get here without being identified and hindered. And now…now he was here. He’d made it.

I don’t need to keep killing these people, he realized. They already know I’m here. I made it. I don’t have to do this anymore!

Dodging a neck-level strike that came from one of the two surviving, sword-wielding members of the Guild of Gentlemen, Zach switched to a one-handed grip on his sword and took a quick, powerful step forward. He bent his knees, pivoted his hips, spun his body from left to right, and then rammed his forearm directly into the man’s sternum, causing the man to release a whoosh of air and backpedal a few steps. Recklessly—and with overt fear in his eyes—the man made a wide, circular strike that almost clipped Zach’s chin, but Zach leaned backwards away from it. Then, continuing to stumble away, the man, as though panicked, began wildly swinging around his falchion. Zach eyed his body movements carefully, dodging four or five times in a row before hastily moving inside the man’s guard and crashing his own sword into his enemy’s, knocking it fully out of his grip.

Having disarmed his opponent, Zach dashed forward and jumped straight upwards while lifting his right leg, bludgeoning the man’s face with his knee. This caused the man’s eyes to roll to the back of his head while he collapsed unconscious onto the stone floor.

“Shit!” the kid with the red hair and brown eyes swore. Then he howled in rage and swung his blade back and forth several times. But for each of his attacks, Zach only needed to twist his body to evade. Following a fourth futile strike, Zach clashed blades with the kid, and making use of his clearly superior strength, he pushed the kid’s blade so that it began to press against his throat with Zach’s blade locked on top of it.

“Don’t make me do this,” Zach warned. “Just drop it and go.”

“Fuck you!” he screamed, pulling away. He raised his sword and slammed it down. Now, with just one hand, Zach flicked his blade upwards and blocked.

“Don’t make me kill you!”

“You’re the one who’s going to die!”

Zach narrowed his eyes impatiently. “I won’t kill you if you stop. So fucking stop!”

“L-listen to him!” the girl cried. “I can’t lose you, Bennie!” Her eyes were soaked with tears. “Please, baby. Just let it go. Please! Before you die in front of my eyes!”

She reminds me of Kalana, Zach thought, horrified.

“Bennie, let’s just leave, man,” the mage standing across from her said.

What if this was me and Kal? What if…?

The red-haired kid they’d called “Bennie” looked over his shoulder and scowled at them then made an even more hateful expression at Zach. “I won’t surrender. I won’t!” Again, he tried to rip apart Zach, who had about eight clear openings he could’ve used to end his life.

Zach sheathed his blade, stepped to the side around a messy, awkwardly angled slash, and kicked him in the stomach, causing him to bend over and gasp. Then, with his right hand, Zach grabbed the kid’s wrist, squeezing it until he felt the bones break. The kid’s clenched grip opened on its own, and the sword dropped down to the floor with a thunk. Zach kicked it away. Now, while still holding his broken wrist, Zach used his opposite hand and decked him twice in his face, breaking his jaw, knocking out a few teeth, and causing his eyes to become unfocused. With that, Zach released him, and he dropped down, landing first on his knees and then, with an “oomph,” falling forward onto his face.

The two mages now looked at him, and both were shaking with fear. Zach gestured with his chin at the two unconscious forms nearby him. “Take these two and leave!” he shouted at them. “Go!” The mages nodded at him, and both seemed to try hugging opposite ends of the hall as though afraid Zach might cut them down as they passed him by. “Ignore those things behind me,” he said.

“Wh-what things?” the girl asked as she cradled the red-haired boy in her arms and sobbed into his low-level armor. “What are you—”

Both mages shrieked as his eight cards stampeded their way down the hallway, with some flying right over their heads and others scampering between the two mages. During the short time it took them to pass, the male and female mage let out one continuous, uninterrupted scream of terror. Then, finally, they scooped up their unconscious comrades and began hurrying their way in the direction Zach had come from. With that, Zach continued on his way. Hurrying down the next set of stairs, he proceeded to move beyond another three consecutive corridors and into yet another spiraling stairwell.

This time, Zach did not even bother drawing his sword as he stepped through the narrow passage at the bottom of a decrepit stairway and into a much wider area that contained four sealed-shut holding cells on each of the crumbling walls to his left and right. Upon his entrance, four men shouted out his name then began racing towards him with various weapons drawn; two women also began lifting staves as though to cast magic. Even still, Zach paid them little attention. He instead chose to look at something beyond them where a rounded archway led into yet another stairwell that would bring him even farther down into this labyrinthine dungeon.

It can’t possibly be much farther, he thought.

“Zachys Calador!” one of the men shouted; the man was preemptively spinning around a flail as if in anticipation of striking. Eyeing him, Zach folded his arms and struck a confident posture as all eight of his cards came either running or flying into the room. Absent Jimmy’s slow, they were very fast. And the moment the men saw his cards, their attitudes changed pretty fast. Witnessing the arrival of his Sneering Imp Warriors and Sneering Imp Troublemakers, the four men stopped charging immediately, and all four dropped their weapons. Even the casters released their grip on their staves. All held up their hands in surrender as the imps converged upon them.

“Please,” begged a tall man with a big red beard and a bushy mustache. He was backing away from an imp that was flying towards him. “Kid, please. Don’t!”

“Yeah, okay.”

Zach ordered his cards to halt a moment before they ran the men through with their spears. He also ordered his Troublemakers to stop, but not before one had already hurtled a dagger across the room, which Zach was thankfully able to spot before it was too late. Urgently, he leaned his body to the right, fully extended his hand, and caught it midair before releasing it and letting it drop to the floor.

With a mental command, Zach changed the designation of his Sneering Imp cards so that Attack Only Hostiles was set to On. This would prevent them from killing anyone who surrendered from this point forward.

“Line up against that wall,” he ordered, pointing to a spot near the stairwell. When they were slow to move, he shouted, “Now!”

With obvious terror in each step, they scampered over to the wall, and then Zach had them all place their hands in their laps and assume a seated position. After that, he ordered Warrior A to hover in place just before them.

“If any of you guys try anything, this thing will attack you automatically, got it?”

“Yes,” one of the women said, tears in her eyes.

“If you call for help or do anything to signal for reinforcements, my imps will attack. Nod if you understand.” All six nodded. “Good.”

He took a moment to meet each of their eyes so that they knew he meant business. Then he extended his hand, his palm facing up. “Comms. Now.”

With unsteady, shaking hands, they pulled their Comms out of their ears and placed them in his hand. He squeezed it shut, crushing all of them. Unclenching his fist, he turned over his hand and let the crushed devices fall down to the floor. With that, he addressed them.

“Where is Vim Alazar being held? And how many more of you will I have to go through?”

With a nervous-sounding gulp, the man who’d been wielding the flail wet his lips and answered Zach’s question. From the shaky, fearful quality to his voice, Zach did not think he was lying. Based off what he said, it sounded like Zach was very close. Apparently, there was a fairly large, organized, and defensive force barricading a final flight of stairs following this one, and then after that, the only one who’d still be standing in his way would be a man by the name of “Captain Gaelan Malakor.”

He’s the guy I’ve been hearing on the Comm.

Having come so close to his objective, Zach was ready to rescue Vim and be gone from this place. But first, he ordered the captured guild members to leave—without their weapons. They seemed all-too eager to obey. He watched as they got up, maneuvered cautiously around his cards, and then disappeared, heading up the stairwell out of here.

Zach counted to ten before proceeding. Then, with his cards flanking him, he resumed his downward trek to the bottom-most level of this filthy, disgusting, and broken-down dungeon, where he knew Vim would be waiting. Hopefully, all the blood he’d spilled would be worth it.