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Chapter 184: Gate of Hell
🕑 Added 2024-01-15 16:11:01 +0000 UTCCorozal was buzzing with activity. Previously, the quiet town had remained relatively unencumbered by external threats, skirting the edge of outright conflict after manaâs arrival through clever tactics and initial luck. Neither the Primal Constructs nor the Cult of Chakyum had truly subjugated the area because there just wasnât much for either force to target. A few old geezers, as they described themselves, with barely any levels had no value to the experience obsessed priests. At the same time, the clever traps that the locals implemented through their advanced profession skills had been effective deterrents for the smaller wandering monsters. The Primal Constructs had been effectively prevented from nesting within the confines of the town.
While they had successfully avoided the ire of the Cult, the Primal Constructs were more difficult to fully circumvent. As time went on, they were facing chance encounters with Primal Constructs that had progressed beyond the residentsâ limited lethality. They couldnât keep monsters trapped forever, and the elites were already pushing the limit that the low leveled residents could handle. Field Bosses certainly went beyond their capacity to defeat the monsters, and eventually, even the traps might not be enough to control the movement of even stronger foes. As the visits from the wandering warriors of the region became less frequent, and the assimilation allowed the Constructs to progress further, it was only a matter of time before a monster conquered the town.
Coopâs arrival had been a turning point. With the mana pylonâs influence, they werenât facing a slow demise any longer, and more importantly, they werenât completely dependent on the infrequent visits of wandering volunteer fighters who had their own difficulties to overcome.
Coop was popping in and out of the newly christened outpost ever since parting ways with Tzultacaj and Juliana in order to check in and see if either of the pair had appeared at the mutually agreed rendezvous point. So far, he had been left to his own devices for almost a week with no sign of either of them. Coop was keeping busy by sweeping the jungle for monsters, continuing to progress in his own way while destroying potential threats to his first claimed outpost. The process was arduous and trekking through the humid jungle presented a physical challenge that was enough to diminish his stamina in ways that were reminiscent of sprinting up and down his beach back home. He couldnât help but look forward to a brief respite in one of the magic hammocks in Corozal after a long trip that included thousands of defeated elites.
When Coop returned from his most recent grind in the forest, he found the coastal town was already busier than Ghost Reef had been before the phantoms populated the island. Corozal wasnât a large settlement by any means, but there was room for new arrivals even without expansion, with many vacant buildings waiting to be occupied.
The warriors of the Crossroads had arrived before Coop finished with the so-called Butterfly Cave. They had taken up roles as sentries, maintaining the same organization they had established in their village. The locals adapted their traps to incorporate the more active defenders, improving their defenses to previously unreachable levels, and temporarily staving off what seemed like an inevitable tide. The trap makers couldnât hope to defeat even incapacitated monsters that progressed beyond certain levels, but the warriors of the Crossroads relied on their personal combat abilities to survive. The natural pairing of the two forces made the outpost stronger against Primal Construct incursions, elevating the combat efficacy of both groups, but it would inevitably draw attention from the Cultâs priests. In the short term, the Constructs were more of a threat, so it was a trade they had made willingly.
Neither of the two main groups would be hiding from prying eyes any longer. The jungle warriors of the Crossroads and the old profession masters had both been nearing their limits when it came to sustaining themselves in the face of the assimilation. Their strengths complimented each other nicely and it was high time that they joined forces to increase their chances of success. That Coop had been the catalyst was purely happenstance.
While the residents of Corozal were trading their concealment for more robust defenses, there were larger shifts happening in the region. When Coop was busy with his most recent hunt, a few more strangers had arrived in Corozal. Scarred veterans of the wilds were joining forces and making the journey through untamed jungles to reinforce the town. They had caught wind of potential changes, and they were at the point where if they didnât make a move soon they would miss their last chance to do anything at all.
Unbeknownst to Coop, the Jaguar Sun was rising for a second time. Tzultacaj and Juliana were spreading the word and those who had continued to maintain their existences on the fringes of the Yucatan settlement were venturing beyond their hideouts once more to carry the message even further. As a result, the most courageous of the warriors were making their way to the outpost. They intended to add their strength to whatever Tzultacaj was building, trusting his integrity if not their overall chances.
For now, they were only a handful of battered fighters, having weathered the assimilation in small groups in the wilderness away from Chakyumâs influence after failing to overthrow the Cult. They were finding limited success without a civilization shard, facing the standard Primal Constructs as they progressed with the rise of mana. It was a struggle, but they wouldnât be defeated by the regular increase of levels. It would take a proper system event, or an explicit campaign by the priests to wipe them out completely. Unfortunately, another event was inevitable, and the priests were always searching. Most of the hermit-like fighters had the awareness to accept the extent of their own limitations and willingly cooperated with other partisans. If pooling their remaining power would ever be effective, it would have to happen sooner than later.
It may have seemed like only wild animals were capable of carving their paths with the rise of violence necessary for survival, but that wasnât always true. Pockets of humans were challenging the assimilation, and winning, but another day was never assured. Survival took a particular attitude that not many could adequately adopt. The ones that had already arrived in Corozal fell into routines with the other residents, offering their skills in scouting and defense, developed from hard times in the wilderness. They fit in easily enough. It was to the point that an outsider like Coop wouldnât be able to distinguish between a person from the Crossroads, a local resident, or someone that had been surviving in the bush, but all of the regular inhabitants were able to vet the newcomers, cross referencing them with each other to confirm their identities, and make sure they werenât harboring members of the Cult.
Before Coop had a chance to claim his hammock and review his own progress after completing another grind, he was being guided back out of the growing village in a new direction. There were more Cultists of Chakyum in the region, and one of them was occupying a base in the portion of the Yucatan that Coop was in the process of claiming. Amanda and Mikey B had been mapping the area and they discovered the exact location of a stronghold after being pointed in the direction by one of the newest arrivals. Even though Coop had been looking forward to another night in a hammock, he tried not to let his disappointment show.
Mikey patted him on the shoulder, knowingly, as they went. âDonât worry man, while youâre dealing with this joker, weâll be heading up north to get the way to Cancun properly mapped out. You can come chill with us when youâre done.â Mikey consoled him, easily reading Coopâs vibe even without any hints. The man was a natural people reader even before mana put more info into detectable auras. âThink of it as your reward. Should be really nice this time of year, right?â He concluded with a smirk.
âHmmâŚâ Coop tried to remember what time of year it actually was, not that it mattered. âI guess it would be nice.â
âDonât forget why weâre here.â Amanda reminded both of them as she led the way along a sandy path. It was too late, though. Coopâs train of thought had already diverted. He was thinking about empire building based exclusively on beaches. If he only secured vacation destinations, no matter what problems he had to deal with, he would always be able to find a quiet spot to relax, right?
They kept walking, and as they went, the leaf cover thinned out until the three of them had clear blue sky above their heads. The ecoregion they were traveling through wasnât exactly a forest anymore, but rather a pine savannah that went against Coopâs preconceptions of Central American habitats. Not everything was either jungle or reef.
The sides of the path that they followed were buttressed by thick tangled grasses. Their narrow yellow stalks would have risen up to Coopâs knees if they werenât leaning flat on the ground in criss-crossing layers. The grasses were dry and stiff such that whenever the wind blew they rattled like straw being shaken. Familiar everglades palms dotted the landscape with green fanned leaves, finding sufficient light to grow without the competition of the rainforest types crowding them out. But the real dominant flora were the Caribbean pines, evenly spaced throughout the rolling hills, towering above the everpresent grasses, with a wide variety of heights. Juvenile trees reached above Coopâs head, and the mature trees towered over the landscape. The pines and grasses defined the area as different from those he had been spending most of his time in since visiting the Yucatan.
The sandy soil was clearly distinct from the dark-loamy stuff that the rainforest contained, and the thick-barked trees and fast-growing grasses were all evidence of an ecosystem that had adapted to periodic forest fires. Instead of a wet, muddy, and leaf covered ground, the region retained far less moisture and was dry and sandy.
Above the thinned out tree line, the sky almost seemed bigger, with low mountains hazy in the distance. Even when compared to the open ocean, Coop had the impression of dramatic vastness. The forced perspective of voluminous clouds played with his sense of scale, where being at sea disallowed any comparisons. Coop found himself watching the rolling horizon beyond the thin pine trunks, feeling a weird energy buzzing in the air. The mana in the atmosphere almost seemed energized.
Yellow-headed amazon parrots flocked between roosts in palms and pines, flying across his sight, but of all the regions of Central America that Coop had visited, this was the one where the Constructsâ presence was felt the least. The local variant just wasnât particularly adapted to the open habitat. For a while, Coop wondered why no people had settled in the area. It almost seemed peaceful with minimal threats making themselves known. The pine savannah would have been an ideal place for a secure base, with long lines of sight to watch for approaching enemies, and limited monster spawns by virtue of a mismatched habitat. After they traveled for some time, even the animals stopped appearing, as if they didnât want to venture too far from the edges of the ecoregion. However, once they crested another hill, he realized exactly why the place seemed to empty as they went.
âHuh.â He caught himself frowning, standing on the peak of a rocky hill with Mikey at his side. It was too obvious that a bad guy had set up in the central valley, claiming the territory with their nefarious presence.
âCanât miss it, right?â Mikey observed, amused despite the ominous black stone spires in the distance.
âGuess not.â Coop admitted as he considered the scene.
In a broad dry valley, between three gently sloping hills, and amidst the vast expanse of savannah, was a large flat-topped pyramid that had been altered by its current occupant. There was no way for it to be any more evil looking, short of installing a billboard that stated villains lived there. Its ominous presence was accentuated by the orange light as the bright sun drifted lower in the sky, reflecting off the harsh surfaces, and casting a haze on the grounds around the structure.
The old limestone blocks were weathered from millenia of seasons bringing wind, rain, and heat, but they were also stained with something new. Dark streaks marred the surface, gleaming in the setting sunlight like obsidian. At each corner of the base of the pyramid, matching black spires jutted from the sandy ground, reaching beyond the peak of the pyramid at uneven heights as if they were organically grown. Small flames danced in gusts of wind, splitting the spires into thirds with enormous braziers embedded in the stone.
Coop hadnât imagined the energy in the air either. The pyramid actually hummed with an ancient mana that caused Coop to shiver when he focused on it, like he was gazing upon something forbidden. There were no signs of life anywhere near the building, as if it was the center of a deadzone that it was actively imposing on the savannah. The valley was nothing but scorched sand, completely lacking any of the vegetation that Coop had observed in the rest of the region. There were no animal tracks, no Primal Constructs, and not even insects darting around in the heat. If the valley had ever contained a river, it was from a time long gone.
The structure left an imposing silhouette etched against the rolling horizon. The previously pleasant clouds seemed heavy with the sinister building influencing the landscape. It wasnât simply a relic of an ancient past, but an ominous lair, currently occupied by someone who embraced the menacing facade. Coop didnât need to wonder what that said about them.
In the center of the flat top pyramid, an open gateway flickered with light from within. It was anything but inviting. Even from the still great distance, Coop thought he could detect the malevolence held within.
âRight.â Mikey started, his cheeriness contrasting the view. âThere it is.â
Coop grunted. âPretty conspicuous.â He stated dryly.
Amanda kneeled down, pulling both of the boys lower to the ground so that they werenât standing in the open like beacons for any sentries to see. âWe didnât dare get any closer when we scouted it. Something about it feels uncomfortable. And it's not just the decor.â Amanda declared.
âSeems like a nasty place.â Mikey added before tearing his eyes away from the obsidian spires to look at Coop. âWeâll leave you to it. Unless you want backup?â He offered, though it was obvious he didnât want anything to do with the villainous base.
âIâll handle it.â Coop promised. âYou guys just keep an eye out for a nice pair of palm trees on the beach. Iâd like to set up a hammock somewhere peaceful when Iâm done.â
âYou got it, man.â Mikey agreed while Amanda looked on.
After Coopâs companions left, he considered his options for approach. The geography restricted his choices to relatively straightforward methods. It lacked cover due to how barren the terrain was, leaving wide open land in all directions of the pyramid. He could just walk up, climb the stairs, and see what heâd find inside, or he could throw his spear, mistjump directly in, and claim the element of surprise. Then again, he could also fill the valley with his Fog of War, taking it slow, even if it would be obvious that something was going on. The slower approach had the added benefit of delaying his approach until night, further obstructing his opponent's senses when it inevitably came to a fight, and he wouldnât accidentally stumble into any traps.
Coop settled on the last option, leaning on Fog of War to turn the priestâs domain into his own. He would be able to scout the pyramid and hide his own presence with the only real downside being the initial expenditure of mana. Unfortunately, this encounter didnât appear to have any minions or monsters in the kinds of numbers that would help replenish his reserves and the valley was broad, requiring a large investment of mana to fully engulf. That meant he wouldnât have many, if any, resources left over for phantasms or Mind over Matter. Heâd make it work.
Rather than enter the valley himself, he opted to let his Fog of War spill down from the top of one of the hills. Coop stood and channeled Fog of War, pushing against the foreboding ancient energy with his own skill.
At first, only small wisps of fog creeped over the peak. The wisps steadily grew until the vapors cast an eerie pall over the limited grasses that clung to the edges of the pyramidâs territory, slowly obscuring their forms and causing their shapes to melt into the sand. As his vision became unclear, Presence of Mind yielded more information than ever.
The growing wisps compounded as they slipped down the rocky peak. The fog bank advanced down the hill, picking up speed as it gained density, like a slow avalanche of mists. Its tendrils reached out into the valley and combined until they formed a wave that swept across the barren land, approaching the pyramid.
The imposing structureâs base seemed to dissolve into the swirling mists when it was swallowed by the encroaching fog, with its jagged edges blurring and the details of the marred surface becoming obscured. The upper portion of the stepped pyramid turned into an island of stone, poking out from a sea of vapors. With the setting sun only lighting the top of the pyramid, the rest of the valley was darkened by the shadows cast by the hills, which were then scattered by the mists.
As the fog rose and the sun fell, the pyramid became a blurred silhouette that reminded Coop of a sinking ship being swallowed by the depths. The whistling winds that had caused the flames on the spires to dance were muffled, too weak to diminish Coopâs fog bank.
Coop consumed almost all of his mana, but the valley was now a river of mists, with only the barest trace of the spires still visible from above. Their flames were like glowing orange orbs that flickered in the fog. He took his time joining the mists in the valley, letting Presence of Mind wash over him as he dipped into the foggy tide.
To his surprise, the entrance to the pyramid remained completely obscured to his senses. With his fog, he detected a steady heat building from within the pyramid, like a furnace was being stoked inside. The hot air escaping the pyramid was enough to prevent his fog from leaking into the interior. Coop thought it was inconsequential. He would climb the steps and find out what was hidden within himself.
It took several minutes to make his way down the hill, across the valley, and up to the base of the pyramid. On the way, he cast Invocation to summon his reliable shield and spear combination. Even if his options had expanded, there was something to be said about the familiarity that came with experience. When facing an unknown enemy, he would continue to default to his most comfortable weapons.
While the heat had steadily built within the entranceway of the pyramid, it hadnât become particularly oppressive. He suspected it would be like a sauna on the inside and he wondered if it was always that way or if it was in response to his Fog of War. Either way, he had easily dominated the enigmatic ancient energy that had been buzzing in the air all over the savannah.
When Coop placed his foot on the first step, a gout of flame erupted from the doorway, burning away a strip of his Fog of War as the pressure inside finally reached a flash point. The scene was as if the gates of hell had opened, with bright flames flickering in a thick fog that extended even further than the light. Coop paused and waited for his domain to recover, but it was pushed away by a steady gust of superheated air exiting the mouth of the pyramid like a dragon exhaling. Whatever was inside had awoken.
Comments
Amadhe
This was a good chapter. My own preconceptions of Central America were also corrected.
