Worthy Core

On the whole, the Domain's battle plan is working...more or less as expected. The Dungeon Legion had taken massive casualties, indeed, after twenty or so minutes of battle there were barely any of the monsters left alive save for the few held in reserve. They'd done their job of soaking up the worst of the defender's firepower though, and given the following Supremes time to prepare their defenses and disruptions within the arena. A few mercenaries had been injured enough to need to withdraw, but none had been killed so far. By time the standard Domain army soldiers begin pouring into the battlefield the defenders are already starting to lose ground.

Fortunately the mortals had also taken relatively light casualties for much the same reason. Dungeon monsters and guardians had held most of the frontline and taken the worst of the offensive, while shortcut portals to Floor Five were scattered plentifully around the various defensive positions. Whenever a Challenger was injured too badly to fight they would be quickly evacuated to Deylia's shrine, and the Domain soldiers would not pursue, having been warned off of jumping into strange portals that could lead to virtually anywhere.

That doesn't mean there's no deaths on the defending side, however. As a siege-class fireball annihilates one of the balcony firing positions, Xenia seethes. "I hate this, Guy. I really, really hate this."

The hovering screen bobs in response. "Well, yes, I'm told war is a rather terrible thing. And this is certainly not what dungeons were designed to do, I can tell you that much."

"If it was just war, I could handle war." The dungeon master grimaces. "I've fought in em from the bottom to the top...well, mostly the bottom, I never made a good officer. But I've seen good people die, friends die, people who died because I gave an order, right or wrong. But none of them were as bad as this."

"No?" The guide's voice has a tone of confusion. "Ultimately there aren't more than a few hundred total combatants, yes? Most of whom aren't even engaged yet. Is it the monsters and magic spells?"

Xenia sighs. "I ain't that. It's because most of my best forces are my friends." From a deserted balcony, she watches as Yulia's elemental ice shield gets blasted apart by lightning and the succubus filled with arrows a few moments later. "I've got more elites I could throw in here. Beatrice. Thaddeus. The Dungeon Fuckers. But there's no way we're holding this arena without losing some of them. There's still too many Supremes on the field. But if I don't, in ten minutes there'll be more Domain fighters here than mine, and the Challengers are going to get overrun."

"Well, I'm no military strategist, so I'm afraid my advice in this situation is limited, ma'am. What do you intend to do?"

After tapping her foot for a minute, the reincarnator swears. "Spread the word. Five more minutes, then the mortals retreat. There's still one more section of Floor Ten left for them to take, we can sap more of their strength there. I'll make sure Pizola's ready for her big show."

"As you say, ma'am."

Like when Floor Four had finally fallen, the retreat of the Floor Ten exhibition arena is a rather sudden affair. As the mortals begin to withdraw, the remaining monsters redouble their efforts to cover the escape, so to many of those in the Domain camp they can barely notice a change in the level of violence. Taly retreats along with the other archers, and Sevastion had already fallen to a team of Supremes, but the wounded Valkyrie Brightsky goes all-out in keeping the attention of the invaders on her.

Although her arm is broken she still has two massive weapons attached to her back, and with lightning-fast swoops she scatters the squads of incoming soldiers. She even manages to get behind the enemy frontline and behead two of the Supreme mages...but slowing down long enough to ensure their deaths brings about her own in short order. A conjured boulder knocks her off-balance before she can return to the air, and a swarm of attacks finish her off before she can recover.

As the final arachnid defenders of the floor fall from their suspended perches, the arena suddenly becomes quiet. There's a few small popping noises as the shortcut portals quickly deactivate themselves, leaving the Domain with nothing left to face but corpses and ruined defenses. And in at least one case, a ruined visage.

"Dear gods, Pretty, what horrible monster did that to your face!?"

Despite the hand he has clenched over the hole where his nose once was, Pretty can still manage a sarcastic smile. "Ah, Tiffany, I'm glad to see you're so invested in my good looks. Seems you came through alright, yes? Well done, well done."

Grenwald scoffs as he rejoins the party, but there's still a look of concern in his expression. "Gonna have to change your name, huh? Though uh, really though...how bad is it? It uh...it looks bad."

Pretty sighs before taking another gulp of healing potion. "Fortunately, none of my combat capabilities were stored in my nostrils. Well, I suppose I won't be enhancing my sense of smell anytime soon...but other than that, I'm glad to report I'm still functional."

Tiffany seems unconvinced. "There is a hole in your face, Pretty. I've seen people pulled from combat for less than that!"

"Well we don't exactly have a cosmetic healer in the camp followers here, nor do we have a route to the surface that doesn't involve claiming the dungeon, now do we?" Pretty shakes his head. "Everyone who can fight, must, in situations such as this. Between my own magic and the potions I'm at no risk of bleeding out or infection, so I don't intend to sit back and let others decide my fate. As for my appearance..." The incubus takes a moment to search through his supplies, and eventually pulls out a long bandage strip. It's not the most glamorous look, wrapping it around his head, but...well, it is at least an improvement on things. "If only I'd thought to bring more fashionable bandages..."

His musing is brought to a halt as Commander Gerlosius shouts out to the assembled soldiers and mercenaries. "Well done!" Even with all of the defensive modifications the arena is still built to put on a show, and the draconic's voice echoes off of the walls. "We have established our foothold within the deepest reaches of Worthy Dungeon! There is still one more chamber left to claim Floor Ten...and it will not be easy."

The officer points to an opened hatch within the sandy floor. "This floor was designed for small parties, not warbands. To reach the next arena we are meant to descend one by one upon a long ladder...and the dungeon will be sure to make us suffer for every step. Speed and defense shall be our keys for this next phase! I need all combatants capable of flying, creating defenses, or boosting speed to come forward!"

Pretty's team has two of those in the form of himself and Tiffany, and so the party joins the others gathering around the commander. As earth mages get to work on breaking apart the hatch, creating a larger entryway, Pretty begins casting boosting spells to speed up the movements and thoughts of those around him. As the hole between the levels grows wider it becomes easier to see what awaits them, and it's what they can't see that's most worrying.

Grenwald curses as he assists in stabilizing the new entryway. "Looks like fog's covering the whole damn floor! Something seems wrong, though...that fog ain't right. Do dungeons get some sort of magic death fog?"

Sincere takes a look himself after enhancing his eyesight somewhat. "Poison gas, yes, although that would be terribly risky if they've placed any of their own mortals down there. I don't believe the fog is magical, however. I believe that it's concealing something magical."

Gerlosius was listening in, and approaches to consult the experienced expert. "What sort of magic are we talking here?"

"Picking up magic at this distance with eyesight alone is tricky even for me, but I believe it's rather dispersed in form...but not so much as the fog itself. I suspect there to be some sort of floor-wide trap down there. Lady Highbranch was gifted in runes, yes? I wouldn't be surprised if that's part of it."

"Well, we cannot fight in the air, or from the edges of this damn hole. We'll need to clear a path through, but the first part of that is clearing out a safe landing area. Suggestions?"

Sincere thinks for a moment...before turning towards the nearest pile of corpses with a smirk. As Gerlosius follows his thinking the mean scowls, but he soon gets to issuing orders.

Down below, Renter quietly hustles up alongside Ruckus. "Damn but if that fight wasn't a shitshow and a half. Least I got out with my hide intact. Anything happen down here yet?"

The imp points up towards the hole in the ceiling. It's dim, looking through the layer of fog, but with most of this floor in darkness it's lit up like the sun in comparison. "They're scheming, I can tell it. My scheme-sense is firing off. I guess even they're not stupid enough to go climbing down a ladder one by one so we can pick em off all easy-like."

The Association inspector frowns. "Don't like giving them the first move, but I guess it'd be worse if we blow our cover. Wait, looks like they're dragging something over. The hells is that?"

As they watch on, a distant pair of kobolds drag an arachnid corpse to the edge of the hole - just before a nearby mage lights the monster's body on fire. A shove sends the body flying down below, and the Challenger pair wince as it hits the bottom. Or at least, as close to the bottom as it can get. As it gets within five feet of the stony floor it's suddenly brought to a halt as it's caught by the arcane webs coating the vast majority of the floor.

It had taken quite a bit of doing to set up. Pizola's 'Webs of Wonder' ability was designed to create a hazard within a particular boss arena, not an entire third of a dungeon floor. It'd taken her a dozen mana potions to coat the entire place with them and the speedy nature of the job meant that the pathways through are a bit haphazard. Renter had nearly gotten snagged by a few strands trying to get to Ruckus's position, and even with the warning of what markings to follow it's clear that the defenders will be nearly as constrained as the attackers. Hopefully, it will still prove to be enough of an advantage.

The next corpse to drop lands atop an explosive rune, and as arachnid legs go flying twenty feet in every direction Ruckus swears. "Fuck! At least they ain't using Challenger corpses...yet. I mean, I gotta give em credit for creative thinking, I guess. Still, that shoulda been one of them getting turned into sauce over there."

"The hole ain't that big, they can't clear the entire floor like that. If they even have enough damn people to drop. Just gotta be ready for our moment..."

As the eighth body lands down below, Gerlosius sighs. "Two runic traps, the rest caught in webs. That's probably cleared the space below as much as possible...any suggestions on dealing with those webs, Sensationalist? The flames don't seem to be affecting them as much as they ought."

The incubus nods. "That's definitely the magic I was seeing - or the greater part of it, at least. If it's magic, then I'd recommend sending a swarm of fireballs down ahead of us. Mystical flames will likely work where mundane ones do not."

"Very well, then." The draconic turns to the nearest squad of mages. "A volley of fireballs directly downward on my command! Then once the flames die down - we advance!"

Nearby, Grenwald shifts nervously on his feet. "I can feel it. This one's gonna be fun, alright..."

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