All the Dust that Falls

Chapter 238: Good Morning To You Too

The ramp curved ever upward. Archibald had just passed the second massive chamber above him, and after hours of walking, he was starting to get bored.

In the beginning, he hadn't exactly been in a hurry. But this was just starting to get ridiculous. Who even made a ramp this long? If he ever met the architect of this nonsensical structure, he'd give them a piece of his mind. Archibald had plenty of water to last him several hours, which was fine, but honestly, his body was getting tired. His full strength hadn't returned to him quite yet, so the natural stamina of his levels wasn't all there. This kept his pace to a sedate stroll, much to his frustration.

At least he had a lot of interesting things to look at along the way. The mausoleum and catacombs and art frescoes along the wall were particularly nice and well done. They were also surprisingly well maintained like someone had dusted them regularly. But it was a bit repetitive.

On this last portion of the ascent, things finally changed. Instead of a long sloping ramp, some stairs of what looked to be a different construction than the tomb led upwards into the darkness. He trudged up the steps with an extra pep in his stride. It seemed that he might finally be getting out of here. Maybe he'd be able to meet whoever left him the food and note. He looked forward to that.

At the top of the stairs stood an old wooden door with an iron handle. The touch of the cold metal sent shivers up his arm as he dragged the door open. He felt his heart rate increase as an escape from the oppressive darkness of the confined tunnels was finally at hand. The flickering light of the torches was one thing, but he wanted to see the sky.

As soon as he stepped out into the bright, sunlit hall, he couldn't help but stare. The building was incredibly impressive. He had seen nothing like it in the human settlements, as neither the demons nor their ilk were amazing builders. But this put even some of the ancient dwarven halls to shame. The stained glass windows, high arches, and beautiful columns with shiny marble floors projected an aura of majesty and order that befitted a ruler. Heck, it looked like something that his bonded companion might even appreciate.

For a moment, he merely stood in awe. Then he looked down at his own slightly drab appearance and long, unkempt hair. He wasn't sure how he had ended up underground like that, but the only nice thing Archibald had on him was the sword on his hip. The enchanted breastplate still hanging on his torso from the fight with the Lieutenant had been cracked, and the magic had long since drained from it. So he had left it behind as it was rather useless. It wouldn't block a single hit that could actually hurt him. Under it were rough spun closets that felt only half preserved. They hadn't fallen apart completely, but they hadn't come out of stasis as well as he did. He could feel how brittle they had become.

As if to reinforce the point, an overeager step up the last of the stairs was accompanied by an ominous ripping sound. Archibald nearly swore, blushing and checking whether anyone had heard. He just hoped his hosts would lend him a new pair of pants. A shirt, too, if they could spare it.

As he took in what looked to be a grand entryway of a castle, he felt distinctly out of place. Only the clatter of a bucket being dropped pulled him out of his trance. Turning, he saw a young woman clutching a mop tightly. A puddle of dirty water spread across her feet as she stared at him in open-mouthed shock. He attempted to speak, but his voice came out in a rusty croak. He coughed, flushing with embarrassment. On his walk up, he had talked to himself a little, but it had been in a half whisper and apparently hadn't helped with restoring his damaged voice.

The sound spurred the woman into action, and she let out a squeal as she turned and ran. Archibald sighed. He supposed that might have been a reasonable reaction to seeing someone come out of a crypt entrance and then croak at you. As she ran away, she yelled something over her shoulder. It took him a bit to decipher what she had said, as the extremely thick accent made it sound like she was gargling rocks as fast as she possibly could. However, he was able to parse the language with some effort. "Wait right there. I'll fetch the high priestess!"

A high priestess? Who was that? Shrugging, Archibald saw no reason not to do as the woman asked. Finding a small bench tucked in an out-of-the-way corner, Archibald sank down gratefully and waited for this high priestess to show up. Leaning his head back, he stretched out his legs and wiggled his toes in their old leather boots as he attempted to get comfortable. Finally relaxing a little bit, he let his senses explore the area as he studied the surroundings. At that point, he started to become aware of an all-too-familiar sound.

Somewhere outside the castle, the sounds of metal clashing on metal and screaming echoed. It was unmistakable. There was a battle going on. He could've said that much even if he were dead asleep. It might've also explained why the maid was so on edge. Aside from the obvious, of course.

Archibald sighed and got back to his feet, stretching. The high priestess would have to wait or just find him later. As he moved, his muscles told him that he was far from in top shape, but even then, he was no weakling. Reaching for his side, Archibald patted where his sword hung ready on its loop. Even these thousands of years later, it still held its edge. Unlike his armor and clothes, it had never failed him so far. With a steady breath, he walked out the propped-open doors into the bright sunshine.

---

Bee raced down the stairs toward the catacombs. Apparently, the champion from below had finally woken up. Bee was shocked that they hadn't had more warning. When they replaced the welcome basket each week, they conducted a careful visual inspection of the hero. The last one indicated some change, but nothing this sudden. While the man should have been a ways from waking up, even then, she had thought they would find him resting down below with the food rather than up here.

She could only imagine how weak he would be with the vast majority of the magical energy drained from his system. But for him to have come up from below after being in stasis for so long.… Even a demon like Nazareth'gak took time to recover, and he had that unreasonable regeneration on his side. She couldn't imagine how a human would fare.

He was last seen in the entryway of the castle, but the one who'd spotted him was startled and had run off to go find her instead of keeping watch. Bee hoped the champion stayed put, as things were rather chaotic at the moment. When she made it down the grand hallway and down the steps to where the catacomb door stood ajar, she looked around and didn't find anything. Great. This was going to be tricky. But even as she poked her head out the front door, she realized something was wrong.

While she toiled in the lab, the lull in the battle seemed to have long since ended. Bee cocked her head and listened. The noise of the fighting carried much farther than she remembered. Or...

Bee dashed down the castle steps and out of the castle wall to the nascent city. She saw people streaming through the gate of the innermost wall. Struggling against the flood, she managed to push toward the wall. Her head swiveled about as she looked for someone to intercept and ask about the situation.

"What's going on?" She demanded as she grabbed a soldier's arm, pulling him out of the stream of people running past.

"The second wall is falling. Ma'am," he said. "We're retreating and refortifying. Arthur's orders."

Bee let him go, and he dashed off to go about his duties. Bee gave up on looking for the champion for now. This took priority. Besides, hopefully, he wouldn't cause too much trouble. Pushing her way against the stream of soldiers, she leaped over the wall to get a better view.

The second wall was falling but hadn't been fully abandoned yet. There was a fighting retreat in progress. Several people held the wall as the bulk of their forces ran. The gate still remained closed, and the enemy hadn't gained the top of the wall, but it was damaged. A massive chunk a little way to the right had been blown out of the stone, at least a dozen feet wide. Rocks lay scattered out in a cone behind the wall.

How hadn't she heard that from inside the castle? She had no idea, but it didn't matter. What really caught her eye was the figure standing in the gaping hole. A single man stood in the breach, holding back the tide of halfway disguised demons and kingdom men as the reserves fled back to the inner wall.

The people on top of the wall eventually slowly started to pull back, giving up the second barricade. This was not good. This was too early. They should have been able to hold this wall for days, not merely hours. Eager to stop the solitary soldier from being overrun. Bee ran forward to join the fray. Her broom was already up and swinging before she even arrived, a Scouring Strike flying out at max range. As she ran past people, she activated her repair abilities, fixing minor wounds in the instant it took her to leave them behind. Her pathing skill helped her dodge through the crowd with minimal collisions, and moments later, she was at the breach.

The single man holding the breach held a sword. It flashed in the sun, his movements unlike any of the soldiers she had ever seen. There was a practiced grace to his strikes that even Arthur didn't have. The only one who showed similar talent was Bradley Chadwick, though that was from raw talent rather than practice.

Who was this man? No one from the castle fought like that. He wasn't even moving particularly fast. With each swing or thrust, he simply ended up right where he needed to be. Quickly, she ran a Scan on him to confirm her suspicions.

Name: Archibald Smith, Level: 69, Race: Human, Class: Companion of Daedalus, Titles: Dragon Rider, Hero of Legend, Bravehearted, Warden of Nazareth'gak, Age: Unknown, Highest Stat: Strength, Lowest Stat: Wisdom, Status: Awake

She immediately realized where she knew him from. He was Archibald, the champion from below, the companion of Daedalus. And apparently, he had a whole host of other titles. Rather than inside the castle, here he was, holding the breach.

Bee stood there for a second, unsure of what to do. Then, the reality of the situation got hold of her, and she charged forward to lend what aid she could.