Chapter 36. The Dark Berserker
It was already the second week of our journey, the stock of staves had long since run out, and we had run into some thoroughly unpleasant difficulties. Mountains.
In the game, the mountains only required more stamina from Lona to traverse, but in reality… we came to utterly hate this route. Sometimes there were little paths where we could walk more or less normally for a while, but when we had to fully embrace rock climbing in extreme conditions… On top of that, at this altitude it was pretty cold.
Basically, I feel that if there's no tomb at the location I specified, they'll eat me alive. Still, I had no doubts about Lona's memories, and soon we found ourselves at the top of a small mountain. Snow was falling from the sky, and in front of us stood a rough tomb carved directly into the rock.
"We're here," I stated. "Do we go in right away, or would you rather set up camp and rest first?"
"Sleep at the entrance to a tomb crawling with undead, are you serious?" Cecilia looked at me with obvious skepticism.
"Believe me, sometimes, to survive, you have to rest in much more dangerous conditions. If you let yourself get too tired, you'll become nothing more than easy prey." After my words, two memories flared up in my mind, so unwelcome: one—how an exhausted Lona was dragged away by flesh demons, and the other—where, to avoid repeating that outcome, we had to take short breaks right in the nest of those creatures.
"What happened? You went completely pale," Indiana asked me, visibly worried.
"Nothing, just a wave of memories," I quickly shook my head, then still added, "Let's take a break anyway. We don't have to sleep, just a short rest to recover our strength and grab a bite."
"All right," the aristocrat didn't argue, seemingly having picked up on something in my mood. So in the end we made a small camp, to warm ourselves by the fire and eat.
"I thought the memories weren't bothering you anymore," Indiana said, sitting down beside me.
"For the most part, that's true," I nodded.
"Then what was that?" the archaeologist asked, and I could see Cecilia and Greyrat, who were sitting a short distance away, listening in on our conversation, but I decided to ignore it.
"I just remembered by association how both approaches can end. One—no rest, ending up in the claws of flesh demons; and the other—when you have to rest right in their nest just so you have the strength to keep fighting."
"I see."
"Funny, it sounds like PTSD, but I don't think I actually have it, though I've definitely gone a bit nuts," I giggled.
"There's nothing funny about that," the man shook his head. "No child should have to face anything like that."
"Well, with how much experience I've got now, you definitely can't call me a child," I smirked, thinking of the literal centuries of experience I'd inherited from Lona, most of which belonged to Lona the Sage.
"Anyway, you don't need to pity me. You'll see, I will sort out everything they've done with our…" I said, more to cheer myself up, as I pulled a piece of meat from my inventory and sank my teeth into it.
"I'll be looking forward to that."
After a not-too-long rest, we finally entered the tomb, which from the inside looked more like a cave, with skeletons scattered here and there across the floor. Without much hesitation, I walked up to the nearest one and, with a loud crunch, smashed its skull with my foot.
"Why?!" Cecilia immediately exclaimed.
"Because all these skeletons are undead, and if you don't want to test your strength against every single one of them, you'd better smash their skulls right away."
"She's right," Greyrat backed me up, and since it was him, she didn't argue any further. So our way deeper in was accompanied by the crunch of bones. Eventually we reached a staircase whose steps, unlike everything else around, had been carefully worked, and it led up into an open-air space, surrounded by rock walls.
The space wasn't very large, with a surprisingly thin layer of snow on the ground. Overhead, like a shroud, the wind howled, carrying snowflakes that almost didn't reach us because of the stone walls around.
"So this is where the berserker is buried?" Indiana was studying our surroundings with interest, paying particular attention to the swords of various kinds stuck into the ground.
"Yes. Be ready—regular undead will come at us first. I won't be spending mana on them, and then the berserker himself will appear," I warned, looking at the snow-covered gravestone slab in the very center.
It read:
Tomb of the Dark Berserker
He challenged the supernatural with strength alone.
Unfortunately, he did not complete his path.
Yet he was the greatest warrior in history.
May he continue his battle in another world.
It's not over yet, not until the belly is slit and the guts spill out.
As soon as I finished reading aloud, a sinister voice rang out:
"Are you a warrior? Will you accept my challenge?"
"I accept," I agreed firmly.
"Very well. Turn to face your opponent."
As soon as these words sounded, the ground began to shake, nearly knocking us off our feet. It didn't last long, only about thirty seconds, and as soon as the tremor stopped, at the spots where swords were stuck in the ground, skeletons began to crawl out one after another, immediately reaching for their weapons.
"Don't wait for them to gather in greater numbers, attack!" I shouted, acting first. Since a saber wasn't going to be much use here, I did things differently: using what seemed like an ordinary club, I shattered the skulls of every skeleton that came within reach with precise blows, though soon it grew harder and I had to use a shield as well.
"Aren't there a bit too many of them?!" Cecilia shouted, having decided to use her saber after all and doing a fairly decent job of beheading enemies with it.
"It's fine!" I yelled back, not particularly worried yet, continuing my measured attacks and trying to conserve as much strength as possible for the main event, well aware that the swarm of small fry wouldn't last long.
"Damn," Indiana swore, and when I glanced his way, I saw that, after finishing off his opponent, he was holding his forearm, which was starting to turn red from a cut.
"Cover me!" I jumped back closer to Cecilia and Greyrat, who reacted immediately. I pulled out a green staff and pointed it at the wounded man.
A green beam shot from the tip of the staff and struck him full-on, healing the cut in an instant. Then, putting the staff aside, I rejoined the fight.
Despite Cecilia's worries, soon fewer and fewer skeletons appeared, and we even started killing them before they could grab their weapons. Until, finally, no more came.
"So… that's it?" Cecilia asked, slightly out of breath.
"No," I shook my head, staring intently over her shoulder. "And you'd better move."
The next instant, the ground where I'd been looking exploded with a crash, hurling gravel and snow in all directions.
The first thing we saw was a massive two-handed sword at least a hundred and eighty centimeters long. Then we saw the skeleton holding the hilt, clearly larger than Greyrat, and in its skull a blue flame seemed to glow.
"There he is," I said, putting the club and shield back into my inventory and taking two staves instead: one for teleportation, one for attack.
As if giving us time to recover, he raised his sword deliberately slowly. And then…
"Scatter!" I shouted, blinking behind the skeleton's back as he suddenly spun with the sword, lunging toward where I had just been standing.
Not waiting around, I pointed my staff at the spinning undead and fired a concentrated beam that, with a direct hit, should easily have burned his bones to ash.
But instead of yielding bone, the beam met a sword suddenly raised like a shield.
"Not a warrior," a rumbling voice came from the skeleton.
"A warrior isn't obligated to use only swords," I disagreed, firing a small but very fast fireball at the skeletal hand holding the sword.
"Perhaps," the undead replied calmly, slightly lifting the blade and taking the hit on it.
I, meanwhile, was starting to worry a bit: unlike in Lona's memories, this opponent was clearly more nimble. If only I could figure out why he had changed like that.
"Hm, you came as a whole party, but only the girl is fighting?" the skeleton's voice sounded with a hint of contempt. And I think I was starting to understand something.
"They won't be taking part in this battle. Just you and me," I declared, then glanced at my companions and jerked my head toward the exit.
"Very well," he said, and did not attack, apparently giving the unnecessary people a chance to leave us.
"Are you sure?" Indiana asked worriedly, pausing next to me for a moment.
"Yes," I nodded, having estimated that in this situation, even if my guess was wrong, they would still only get in the way, preventing me from attacking freely without the risk of friendly fire.
"All right," the man didn't argue and hurried our companions along.
As soon as the others left, my opponent changed noticeably: the flame in his skull seemed to grow dimmer, and in the next instant, just like in Lona's memories, he rushed at me mindlessly, like a beast.
After how well he had been blocking my attacks, it was rather disappointing. I didn't even need to teleport: I shot at the Berserker's legs—he didn't even try to block—and he collapsed to the ground halfway to me. Then, when he started crawling toward me without legs, like a brainless skeleton with a sword in one hand, I fired straight at his skull with genuine pity. It instantly crumbled into ash that mixed with the molten stone.
"WARRIOR!" The wind that until now had been blowing only above our heads descended in a blast, obscuring my vision with snow. "You have proven yourself well. Take this. A gift worthy of a warrior."
When the words ended, the veil of snow lifted, and where the gravestone had stood before, an enormous two-handed sword was now stuck into the ground.