Dungeon of Niflheim

138 Chapter 138: The Sanguine Snakes (2)

Nothing gave the Sanguine Snakes more joy than seeing the polar bear finally lose all hope, their laughter became menacing as they revelled in the creature’s demise. So much so that they didn’t even notice the movements behind them.

The frost troll and his entourage of wolves and dwarves had finally arrived. Shame that they were too late to save the polar bear, but it successfully distracted the enemies. Now they had the advantage, and without the polar bear they sorely needed it.

There was one tactic that Frost successfully taught the troll, ambushing. Even with a weaker force, one could triumph over a strong enemy if they had the advantage of surprise. Frost’s goblins taking down those bandits was the best evidence.

The frost troll led his group quietly towards the room and had them hold position until the best moment. Right up until the assassin was about to bring down his daggers to sever the bear’s carotid artery, not willing to damage the precious materials any further.

“Rahhhhhhhhhhh!” The frost troll charged with his entourage at that very moment. The fast wolves rapidly charging towards the wizard and archer, hoping to use their speed to tie them down. The dwarves and troll charged directly at the swordsman and axe wielder. They moved with such speed that by the time the adventurers realised, they were almost within striking distance. A successful ambush, the adventurers were caught off guard and out of formation and now they were the ones outnumbered.

“Shit! Fuck! Regroup dammit!” The leader desperately shouted out orders as a couple frost wolves flew past his peripheral vision towards two of his party’s weaker members. He and Barren quickly re-entered combat mode, holding up their weapons in preparation for the troll’s and dwarves’ assault. The wizard and archer would have to look after themselves in the short term.

“What the hell!” The assassin turned around mid-swing to be greeted with a swarm of monsters running his way. Thankfully he was situated behind the leader and Barren, the monsters would have to make their way past the strongest members of their team before getting to him. He wasn’t however a slouch or na?ve, he too readied his daggers up to attack, turning his back to the polar bear, it was set to die anyway, posing no danger. That however was a foolish move.

The moment the assassin turned away, leaving his rear defenceless. the bear’s eyes opened wide. It smelled the other monsters earlier, the frost troll in particular and decided to save its strength for one last attack. No way it was going to die in such a pathetic way without even injuring a single one of its aggressors. The assassin especially wasn’t going to be let off, daring to rip out one of its prized fangs and mock it when he didn’t even take part in their battle.

The polar bear summoned the last remains of its strength, using its lingering anger as fuel. It rapidly moved up and swivelled its head around, leaning over the ignorant assassin.

.....

Drip drip

Blood from the newly formed cavity in the bear’s mouth dripped down onto the assassin’s neck sending a jolt down his back. The assassin looked up and the moment he did.

“Fuck!”

Crunch! The polar bear snapped down on the assassin’s head, crushing it with its remaining teeth before slumping down to the floor never to move again. It got its revenge; the bear could now go in peace.

The movements of the bear and the short scream of the assassin didn’t go unnoticed. By the time the leader and Barren turned around to look, what was left was a headless body spurting blood like a fountain. Their long time colleague was dead, and by a stupid and defeated polar bear no less.

They didn’t have to time to grieve the loss; well, they wouldn’t grieve anyway, their relationship was strictly beneficial. In fact, they actually felt more anger toward their deceased colleague for leaving them in this situation making them even more outnumbered.

What ensued after that was a mad brawl that painted the entire room in blood.

Back to the present time. The frost troll was finishing up his account of what happened, and how he became so injured.

“They targeted me, because strongest but we won in end.” The frost troll tried to show a proud smile to his master, but it just appeared strained and painful causing Frost to frown but remain silent. Frost couldn’t admonish him after what happened, he did a good job after all. Successfully eliminating such a powerful adversary and returning alive, his losses weren’t even that bad considering the strength of the foes. Frost was aware that powerful D-rank parties could enter the Dungeon but just didn’t think it would happen when he was absent.

“It’s a shame that they were killed, I’d really like to get my hands on those intruders.” Dark thoughts filled his mind, methods of prolonged torture and forced captivity. His monsters had performed too well, successfully taking care of the problem without need of him. He had nowhere to direct his built up aggression.

The frost troll spoke up interrupting Frost dark ambitions.

“M....Master, one still live.”

“Eh? There’s still one of them alive!” Frost exclaimed in surprise, before an evil smile grew on his face and a disturbing laughter broke out in the room causing the goblin guards to shiver.

“Where?” Frost had a mad look in his eyes.

“In 3rd section, room near end.” The frost troll couldn’t accurately describe the location given his poor common tongue, but Frost didn’t need him to anyway, the dungeon menu would be able to isolate the adventurers location. And he probably needed to act fast, intruders didn’t benefit from the dungeon’s healing properties. If he didn’t move quickly, he may very well die of his wounds, far too lenient a death.

“Hahahahahahah perfect I’ll let that bastard know the consequences of crossing a dungeon core hahahahahah. Good work frost troll, very good work. Take this after an hour or so, it’ll help heal your wounds.” Frost tossed over another low level health potion before leaving the frost troll to recover from his wounds, he had some pain to dish out.

Ignoring the fear filled looks of the goblins and frost dwarves he passed, Frost brought up the menu to find the location.

“Got him,” with a manic smile Frost teleported to the 3rd section.

Outside a room close to where the grand battle took place, two frost dwarves and a frost wolf stood on guard each sporting some minor injuries but with determined looks in their eyes. The moment Frost appeared they first raised their guards pointing their weapons his way.

‘Sharp intuition’ Frost smiled with pride, happy with his monsters’ reactions. His identity was revealed pretty quickly and the bravado they mustered collapsed. They acted like children who had been beaten up by the local bully and just saw their father.

“Is he in there?” Frost spoke with a threatening tone revealing his anger and hatred. The defending dwarves instantly nodded, opening up the door for their father. They returned to their duties once he walked through, feeling a great sense of relief now that Frost was back home.

What lay before Frost as he entered the room, was a bloody mess. The remnants of a large man was chained up against a wall, pinned by old metal spikes, implanted in his hands. The blood had long turned black, no longer dripping. His clothes tattered beyond belief, dyed dark red from the blood loss, and started to fuse with his carved up chest. The man was barely hanging on, weak heartbeat and shallow breaths was the only signs that he wasn’t a corpse.

Barren had long lost feeling in his extremities, too much pain and blood loss had turned him numb. His vision clouded by blood, his head constantly ringing, and every breath proved a struggle, yet he did not die. Barren hated the tenacity of his own life force, if he wasn’t pinned to the wall and still had strength, he would have ended his own life long ago. The irony of the situation didn’t even dawn of him, only anger, pain and hatred was left. All his colleagues were dead leaving only him left alive, well if you can call this living.

He felt so insulted, how dare mere monsters treat him as such, the great Barren. He could only gnash his teeth against one another in rage thanks to his powerless body.

When Frost entered Barren didn’t even notice, the ringing in his head too loud to even register vibrations. At first when Frost walked in, he was filled with anger and wanted to dish out punishment, but he was forced to halt, frozen in place.

‘He looks just as bad or even worse than the frost troll.’ Any punishment that he’d levy would outright kill the man, his life was hanging by a thread. The man seemed to already have paid his dues, leaving him truly nothing to vent. Frost was about to turn and leave the room, letting the man die of his wounds. A painful way to go in its own way but the man started to speak.

“God damn fucking monster filth! Piece of shit frost troll!” Barren decided to use the remainder of what strength he had to curse those that wounded him. If he screamed loud enough, he was likely to aggravate his wounds and end this pain all the sooner. Unfortunately, he picked the worst time to speak up.