HAVOC IN THE DEATHYARDS

  A Completionist Chronicles Short Story

  DAKOTA KROUT

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Afterword

  About Dakota Krout

  CHAPTER ONE

  Anyone who has lived on Svartalfheim for any significant amount of time knows the significance of and threat that is the Deathyards. Teachers train their young students to avoid this subject, both in reality and in conversation, as if the mere mention of the terrible creatures that lay within will bring them one step closer each time they are remembered. Warriors dream of one day becoming powerful enough to step into the Deathyards and defeat the monsters that roam within. Yet, even to them, it is a mere flight of fancy.

  Only the truly powerful understand that there is both risk and opportunity presented by such a waypoint formed within their own lands.

  The Deathyards in actuality are contained within a Caldera, a section of land zoned-off specifically due to the collective realization that some things are simply too powerful to deal with. At least, for most. The entirety of the created mountain range that surrounds the Caldera has been enchanted by Masters and Grandmasters since the start of recorded history within the Dwarven Oligarchy. Since time immemorial, this enchantment has been maintained for the safety and security of all Dwarvenkind.

  Only the most powerful of monsters are able to overcome the negative pressure barrier to enter, and never once in living memory has a creature been able to escape the encirclement without the proper authority tokens and necessary authorizations. At the very center of the Caldera, there is a fountain of ceaseless energy that calls to all monsters strong enough to sense it.

  No matter if this corrupted energy is useless for others, monsters can simply live near the energy and slowly grow stronger. For most, the knowledge that the fountain is there, and they are unable to get closer to it, slowly drives the creatures insane and increases their aggression to the point of becoming utterly rabid.

  For someone to enter into the Deathyards, they must have the authority to step past the barrier, the strength to survive, and reckless disregard for their own well-being. To most, even getting close enough to service the enchantment keeping the monsters contained within is a task fraught with danger; enough that entire battalions of elite Legionnaires are dispatched with them. Even then the escort is merely to ensure that their charge will be able to escape while the Legionnaires sacrifice themselves to buy time.

  That was why, when a single Dwarf appeared in the center of the Caldera, accompanied by soundless black lightning and ignoring the geyser of acid spraying out and over him, half of the monsters charged, and the other half immediately fled.

  “It's been awhile… I look forward to seeing what managed to take over my little farm since the last time I came and cleared it out.” The Dwarf—who had stepped out of nowhere—allowed his eyes, hidden behind utterly black goggles, to sweep through the area. He took a pull on his cigar, letting a cloud of white smoke accompany the casual words that he spoke as he flicked the stub away. “I need forty-nine volunteers and the current boss monster of this area to come and die for me.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  The tide of monsters did not slow, although the creatures that were already fleeing saw a marked increase of their velocity in the opposite direction. Havoc took a quick look at the creatures that were coming his way and snorted softly. “None of you are good enough to claim as a reward for the kid. I've been wanting to test out my new model, let's see how this goes…”

  The Dwarf held up an orb, a silvery, unassuming object that most people would never give a second glance. Not unless they recognized the monster in Dwarven form who was holding it. The Lord of Slaughter had a reputation that preceded him wherever intelligent creatures could be found. Firming up his grip, the orb suddenly shattered and released a cloud of white smoke in a nova around him, reaching and washing over the front wave of monsters in an instant.

  The creatures just behind them started to stumble as they ran into their compatriots, confused only for a moment as to why they had stopped so suddenly. Then they found that their own limbs were becoming stiffer, harder to move. The final seconds of their lives ticked by as their flesh was replaced with an amalgam of metals and various compounds. By the time the casually strolling Dwarf passed them, each of the monsters—powerful enough to be called paragons of their respective phylum—were mere statues.

  “It's an interesting thing, to be a Grandmaster.” Havoc calmly spoke to himself, “I am a Grandmaster in two disciplines, and sculpting has always been my great love. Even so, I lost enthusiasm for working on mere wood nearly a millennia ago, stone centuries ago, metals nearly as long. Only flesh still entices me… there is something about living creatures frozen in their final moment that allows them to depict the rawest of emotions. Always something that eludes me, prevents me from becoming a true Sage of Sculpting. But someday... I just know this kid is going to let me complete my life's work.”

  His casual stroll had somehow allowed him to catch up to the back wave of fleeing creatures in nearly an instant. For the first time, he allowed himself to get close enough to nearly touch one of the beasts, and small droplets of acid or arcing lightning reached out and splashed against them. So empowered was his perception that he was able to follow every single droplet, the path of every bolts of energy leaving him. Whenever the energies flowing off of him impacted another creature, he casually reached forward and poked a hole in their chest with the tip of his finger.

  Moments later, the beast would become still. He noticed—how could he not with such a potent grasp of his surroundings? Even so, never once did he look back to check his work.

  “Whoops, already at thirty. I better hold off to make sure we're getting the best quality materials.” Havoc’s gaze shifted toward the center of the Caldera, knowing that the most powerful monster allowed to live in the Zone—barring only a World Boss—would have its home directly above the fount of blood and corrupted Mana.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Huh.” The Dwarf’s absolute lack of reaction to finding an enchanted barrier he hadn’t installed blocking his path would have been concerning to anything living behind it; if they could see what he was doing. “Something here knows me… this barrier is blocking everything. Light, sound, air. It's almost as though it was specifically prepared to stop me from entering. They probably think that if I'm in a hurry, I’ll just search for easier prey rather than trying to bust this down.”

  Havoc checked the energy flow of the acid and lightning, noting that it wouldn’t last too terribly long. At least, not with how he thought of time. “Bah, I'm only a few thousand years old. Either way, something here is shifty. They think they have me locked out? Little do they know, the shoe's on the other table, and it’s turning.”

  His fingers shifted slightly, the bones lengthening, the skin thinning. He lifted a tiny rock that was no different from any other on the ground around him, and began carving into the stone with the tip of his digits. In moments, there was a tiny version of himself on his hand—cigar and all—and he inserted a single flake of crystal from a shattered core into the chest of his miniature self.

  Energy raced through the Small Clone, following the twisting and shifting lines of enchantment that he had been carving at the same time he had been forming the replica itself. In a moment, it looked up at him and a tiny puff of smoke left its mouth.

  “The usual, little dude.” Big Havoc stated, getting a solemn nod in reply from Little Havoc. The replica took flakes of stone, nothing more than dust as far as Big Havoc could tell, and created another version of itself. It then gave orders to Tiny Havoc, and the process repeated.

  As he was a Grandmaster, each version of himself only needed a single second to create another of itself, so in under five minutes there were hundreds of thousands of himself that turned to the problem that had presented itself to themselves.

  All of the automatons moved away, most of them light enough to drift upon the wind as it moved. As always, this presented itself as a white cloud of ‘smoke’ that was somehow traveling with purpose. The structure before him, hundreds of thousands of tons of stone melded together with magic and intent, began to flicker under the combined assault of what was now millions of Havoc clones.

  The enchantment, designed to take the force of a meteor and not even allow a vibration to get through, was disrupted in its entirety, killing thousands of the tiny sculptures as the backlash of its destruction searched for a target. Although so many were destroyed, ten times the amount—those without core flakes of their own—were empowered by the free-flowing mana, and began moving.

  Now there were millions of the sculptures that were able to begin swinging tiny pickaxes at the stone blocking Havoc's path. The mountain of materials standing before him slowly sagged and turned into ever-more of himself that worked to clear the rest. Soon, there was a proper entrance, and Havoc walked through it. The monsters on the other side were already staring out at him, grimly holding onto weapons, hidden away below powerful enchanted armor.

  “Now that isn't right.” Havoc reached into a pocket and pulled out another, currently unlit cigar; the only difference between this one and the last being the color. This one was a bright, poisonous purple. “I think so meone needs to explain to me how monsters like yourselves are able to get a benefactor that can create all this enchanted stuff. The first one of you to explain it to me gets to die painlessly. How about it? Don't be shy, the early bird gathers no moss!”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Even if the monsters in this area were intelligent enough to use the weapons and armor that they were encased in, there was no way that they also knew the Dwarven or Common language; even if they did, they couldn't speak it with their misshapen mouths. The monsters rushed to attack him, even though Havoc, by dint of experience, could tell that they were attacking only out of sheer resignation.

  They didn’t seem to be fighting to survive, or protect something else, if anything… “I get it. You’re trying to buy time for your leader to escape, aren't you? Well let me tell you something: that's useless.”

  Thanks to his bloated stats, which had been adjusted down so that he could live in this Zone with his people, the creatures came at him at a speed reminiscent of swimming in molasses compared to how he could move. This gave him plenty of time to look them over, using a critical eye to determine their combat effectiveness. Surprisingly, there was much less information to read compared to what he had prepared himself for.

  Ivory Deathyard Elite Armor. This armor, created by combining a composite of the bones from level 30 monsters or above and then enchanting it, completely seals the wearer inside of it. The earliest forms of this gear is reminiscent of hazmat suits, But this version is far closer to a wearable Golem. Caution: mana is flowing into the suit in concerning amounts.

  Ivory Deathyard Elite Spear. This weapon, created using the natural weapons of a creature at least at level 30, Is designed to take in raw, corrupted, unfiltered mana and release it in a burst of energy with varying effects. Initiating break down on enchantment schematics-

  *Zzaap!*

  Havoc leaned to the side as the closest spear unleashed its payload directly at his left eye. The energy contained was clearly fire attuned, as evidenced by the flash of brilliant flame that erupted after the attack had fully propagated. There was something strange about the attack, and his mind began breaking down its component structures immediately.

  “Let's take a look at this, shall we?” In his mind, the Dwarf replayed the bolt of fire that had just erupted. To the untrained eye, it was no different than a flame lance or some kind of directed fireball, but his perception had kicked into overdrive and was analyzing every minute change it had created in the environment around it. Mentally tracing the path the flame had taken, he allowed his senses to roll over where the attack had initially begun, and where it had ended. “Abyss, you must have a rich sponsor to play with something like this.”

  His eyes fixated on a round hole an inch wide behind him, which had cut directly through the stone and left a perfectly straight line leading back to the spear. When the lance of energy had fired out, it had displayed remarkable energy cohesion and penetration abilities. Only after reaching the maximum attack range of the weapon had the spell matrix failed. At that point, the dissipating energy had flared out into being ‘only’ fire. A swift glance upward indicated that the flame had been hot enough to melt the stone as a side effect; clearly not even an intended side effect, as the heat was undirected.

  Bolt after bolt of this strange, corrupted mana tore through the air as rapidly as lightning could naturally move. Havoc avoided each strike, walking forward and removing the spears from the Elite’s hands as easily as taking a slippery candy bar out of a small child's hand. Now that the weapon was being held by him, the enchantment held no further secrets: it was very difficult to hide information from a Grandmaster when it could be inspected so closely.

  What he saw infuriated him. He looked at the weapon, then the monsters, and his words came out as a deadly whisper. “Who did this? Who removed the self-destruct sequence from this enchantment, especially an enchantment done so poorly? This poor child… who relegated it to insanity so casually?”

  No matter his fury, the monsters were unable to answer; just as he knew they would be. He was no necromancer, which made it much more difficult to pry answers from the dead. Not impossible, though.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Mana caressed his body and mind as he strolled toward the antechamber leading into the throne room, which had been built around this strange fount of corrupted mana and blood. Havoc had felt all of this before, and was no stranger to ignoring external influences attempting to influence his mind. No matter what his detractors shouted, he was no actual monster.

  He was just a Dwarf that had lived far too long without a proper rest cycle. He didn't like sitting in a core for a long period of time, and no one ever bothered to let him out when he told them to do it. Havoc shook off the intrusive thoughts, fully understanding that if he let his mind wander into the Meta-constructs of this world too much, the system would increase his threat level and he would draw the attention of someone he couldn't ignore.

  Havoc didn’t want to go back to sleep. Not until this war was won.

  A single kick to the door destroyed it and the entire wall around it, handily disabling all of the traps that had been built into the floor on the other side as well. There was something deeply satisfying about making an entrance like that, but his good mood was soured when he looked into the room and only saw more powerful versions of the same bone-armored creatures he had defeated mere minutes ago. One of them was sitting on a throne, tapping at the armrest as it stared at him.

  That was the one the Dwarf’s eyes zeroed in on, the goggles acting as binoculars that could increase his vision so well that he could see Asgard during daytime if he wanted to do it. He usually didn't bother, as some of the deities would get… uppity… if they thought he was peeking at them. “What are you doing on that chair, decoy? You are way too weak to be the big bad of this area.”

  Even as Havoc spoke, white ‘smoke’ was drifting away from him and slowly creeping across the room. To give the monster some credit, perhaps they were smart enough to understand his language. As soon as he spoke, all of them leapt to their feet and began firing at him. This close to the Unceasing Fountain of Corruption, their weapons could fire nearly continuously: practically channeling the energies to their suit and through their weapons.

  He had already seen enough of these things, and so decided not to play around like he had with the others. Putting his Zone-limit characteristics to the test, Havoc moved around the room and collected weapons, smashed suits, and pulverized bodies. The first barrage of energy ended, and the creatures that had attacked fell to the ground, everything within them already in the process of being mined out by the Nano-Havoc's and replaced with composites and instructions.

  As for the decoy, Havoc stripped the creature out of its ivory suit and took a look at it to see what sort of beast he was dealing with. “Two-headed, that's to be expected. It's crazy how the energies of two Zones affect monster creation like this. Fur: black and white. An ursine? Baseline level of muscles and bone density at least six times baseline human… I've never seen a creature like this in this Zone. It would make sense if they were an invasive species, especially if they had a sponsor like I believe they must. Well, these things sure are smashing my expectations.”

  Havoc allowed that line of thinking to fill his mind for a long moment. “Invasive, sponsored, and doing things outside of my expectations… to find the actual boss monster, what is the thing that I would least expect a monster in this area to be able to do?”

  Dropping the rapidly converting corpse, Havoc turned and looked into the distance, even though he could not see his target, he knew what it was. “The thing I would least expect a creature from here to be able to do… is leave.”

 

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