A Soldier's Life - 437 - Table Manners Optional (edit 8-13-25 +600 words)

Chapter 437: Table Manners Optional

Bharok’s socks made a sucking sound as his dwarf feet pounded across the room to the fireplace. I didn’t hesitate and swung magebane at the dining table. My blade sank in with a thud, and I briefly wondered if I had been mistaken in my target as it sounded like striking wood.

The entire illusion of food disappeared, as each item was now a pseudopod extending from the gray table. The pods were sucked into the table, and the table folded itself over toward me, transforming into a gaping maw lined with razor-sharp teeth extending down its throat.

Two thick, sticky tongues from inside the mouth lashed out at me as the sickly sweet breath of the mimic washed over me. I cut deep into one tongue with magebane, causing a spray of dark red blood, and the tongue retreated into the mimic’s mouth. The other failed to find purchase on my oiled shield. Things could have gone poorly if it had been able to yank the shield into its maw with my arm attached.

As Baelira thickened the air, it got harder for me to breathe as I prepared my next strike. With better footing, I hacked the other tongue, cutting two feet off the end. The mimic barked in what I imagined was its version of a pained cry. “Where is the third?” Baelira asked from my right just as Bharok’s hammer was coming down on the fireplace.

With my aether sight, I could see the dwarf’s tangled web of aether threads in front of him, ready to net the mimic. Then the dwarf was gone. The carpet in front of the fireplace, folded up, consuming him. “Harpies tits,” I cursed. There was a deep recess in the floor for the third mimic to rest in. I cursed as I should have sent out an earth pulse when I entered the room. I could have spotted that void filled with the mimic since it was organic matter. Konstantin would be upset when I told him about this failure. On second thought, he didn’t ever need to know.

I rushed toward Bharok as the fireplace turned into the mouth of the third mimic. Its tongues were slapping against the carpet mimic, not in an attack, but seemingly trying to get it to share its dwarf snack. I couldn’t move Bharok into my dimensional space, as it would overlap with the large mimic. I also couldn’t clearly see the dwarf’s orientation. The carpet mimic did me a favor and revealed the dwarf as it opened its maw to a cursing Bharok. “Dirty, fleshy, spikey….” The dwarf ran out of breath as the mimic squeezed him.

The throat of the mimic was constricting him in, and the teeth that lined the mouth and throat were hooked into exposed flesh. I only had two choices—kill the fireplace mimic or try to kill the carpet mimic. The fireplace mimic was extending its amoebic maw towards Bharok’s helmeted head, but if I could kill the mimic trapping Bharok, I could distract the fireplace mimic.

I took the left third of the carpet mimic’s body and sent a prayer to Fortuna. If I caught any part of the dwarf as I shifted the mimic into my dimensional space, his innate resistance and the mimic’s would feed off each other. Time seemed to freeze as the side of the mimic vanished. It slowly started to tilt over. Bharok was in too much pain to be aware, and he was trapped under the dead mimic as his voice became muffled. If he could scream, then he could breathe, and I didn’t need to rescue him immediately. I think I got the creature's brain as well since it stiffened.

I focused on the other mimic, hacking into the fireplace mimic. Its tongues were like meaty fists, pounding on my shield in anger. The creature's body moved toward me at a fast walk but lacked closing speed. I half-turned to look at Baelira, who had her mimic contained. It seemed to move in slow motion as she easily avoided the single bloody tongue, and she had punctured numerous holes in the creature with her thin blade. Baelira was covered in splatter, but it was all the mimic’s blood.

I had saved Bharok, and I focused on killing my opponent to help free him. The hide of the mimic was tough to cut, even with a runic blade. The magebane poison only seemed to prevent the creature from using its camouflage and illusion ability, as it was still able to change its shape. When I got enough aether, I exchanged magebane for Heartseeker.

The first slash of the black spear opened a gash across the entire body of the mimic, and it twisted in pain as its dark red lifeblood pooled on the floor. From there, I focused on making it bleed, and when it slowed to a crawl and stilled, I yelled to Baelira. “Help Bharok get out! I will finish off yours!” She nodded, and I turned my focus to the table mimic. It quickly learned the black mithril leaf tip of Heartseeker was deadly and shied away from my attacks.

It had nowhere to go as I cornered it and cut off pieces until it too died. Breathing heavily, I turned to find Baelira helping Bharok. Baelira was feeding the dwarf a healing potion. The metallic scent of blood hung in the air, and the floor was getting sticky as the humid air sucked the water from the blood. I righted one of the overturned chairs and sat down. “How is he?” I asked as I wiped my sweat and blood-soaked hair with a cloth. I could taste the salty metallic flavor of it as sweat dripped into my face.

“His armor is deformed, but his wounds are closing,” Baelira said with relief.

“The beast literally squeezed the dwarven shit out of me!” Bharok said weakly. “Why would anyone even think going into these cursed dungeons is worth it?”

I kicked the silver chest at my feet, which was shaped like a mimic’s mouth. The dwarf grunted, unimpressed. “Thanks for cutting me out of the creature,” he said, acknowledging me. “I owe you one.” I leaned over in my chair and opened the solid silver chest. It was the first time a chest in a dungeon did not contain any coins, but I supposed the chest itself weighed three or four pounds of silver, although I did not care for its aesthetic value.

“What is inside?” Baelira asked, craning her neck. I leaned over and pulled out the sheathed dagger inside. The sheath was a glossy black, the handle ivory bone, and the blade had the polished look of a runic weapon. I held it up for them to see. I sent an earth pulse into it to find that the black sheath was metal and had hidden runes inside, and there were also runes etched within the length of the blade.

I was not certain, but it felt as though the sheath and dagger were somehow paired—like the dagger would not work if it were not in proximity. “Can I keep this?” I asked as Baelira was helping the dwarf to his feet. Bharok waved me off like he didn’t care, probably more happy to just be alive. His breastplate was scratched and dented. “Do you want the jewelry chest?” I asked Baelira. I figured calling it a jewelry box would add some value to it for the woman, even though I had never seen her wear any.

She picked it up and looked impressed with its weight. “Sure. Can you carry it?” I sighed as she grinned and handed it to me, reminding me of Raelia. It vanished and it its place was the collector.

“If you don’t tell anyone about this, we can split the essence harvest,” I said, holding up the artifact. I figured I had made friends with Baelira over the last two weeks and saved Bharok’s life a few minutes ago, so they should acquiesce and keep my secret.

“You have a collector?” Bharok exclaimed. “Did you find it in here?” He was looking around like there might be another lying around.

“No, I brought it with me,” I said, exasperated.

“What kind of essences do mimics yield?” Baelira asked, interested, clearly finding my terms acceptable.

“Let’s find out,” I said, placing the collector on the nearest carcass.

After their camouflage and illusion were broken, mimics had a dense, tough gray hide. I still needed to move the collector a little to get the strongest flow of essence as it worked. I made sure to focus the aether through my convergence aspect, but only a major essence formed. It was one of the most precious—aether shaping.

I moved swiftly toward the largest mimic, the one that had captured and chewed on Bharok. It had been dead the longest, maybe fifteen minutes. I was more cautious as I focused on powering the collector with convergence essence, my eyes shining with hope. The aetheric smoke seemed weaker than before. I realized too late that I had the heart of the mimic in my dimensional space. Without the aether core, the collector struggled, took longer, but managed to form a lesser shaping essence. Without the aether core, this should not have been possible, and I suspected it was due to my convergence affinity and the power of the collector.

The heart of the mimic could perhaps yield another essence. I moved to the last mimic. The thick aetheric smoke formed an apex essence of strength. Disappointed, I took the dark purple sphere from the collector. I faced my companions with a smile, who were covered in mimic blood like me. “An apex strength essence. Does anyone want it?”

“What are the milky gray ones?” Baelira asked. I shouldn’t be surprised she didn’t know. If she lived her entire life in Sanctuary, she probably never studied or saw any of the rarer essences.

“Aether shaping essences,” I said, extending my hand with all three spheres.

“The soft glow of the spheres reflected in the elf’s eyes. “You should pick first,” she said. “It is your collector, and you killed all three mimics.” It was an easy choice, as I took the medium gray sphere and placed it into my mouth. My senses sharpened throughout my body as my understanding of what aether was became clearer. My control over my flow of the aether magnified, and I sighed in satisfaction. Baelira arched her eyebrow suggestively, and I chuckled softly.

“I will pick last. I didn’t do much, other than offering the mimic a snack,” Bharok grumbled. I was surprised when Baelira took the apex strength essence, maybe thinking bigger was better. I handed the minor essence to Bharok.

“Okay, are you two ready to find another room?” I said somewhat too eagerly.

“Another?” the dwarf said with a crack in his voice.

“At the center of this maze is a minotaur. Just one minotaur. If we can find it, it will be an easy kill,” I said.

“Are there any more mimics?” he asked, regaining composure.

Baelira was coming off the high of consuming her essence. “There are two mimic rooms in the maze. There are also two rooms with the water naga, and two rooms with black oozes, but only one minotaur.”

Bharok sighed, “Just don’t get us lost.”

We took the exit on the far side of the tavern room, keeping the wall to our right as we entered the corridors. I found the first pit trap, a ten-foot drop onto spikes with a black ooze at the bottom. The highly corrosive slime covered your body and forced itself into all your orifices. The pit trap was covered with a thin layer of stone and topped with black sand, making it perfectly concealed. You wouldn’t have realized it until it was too late.

“There is a trap ahead, and only a foot-wide ledge along the left side. There is a black ooze at the bottom of the trap,” I announced.

“I have a fire bomb,” Baelira announced, reaching into her hip pouch. I shrugged, produced a cask of water, and tossed it onto the trap.

“How much of a dragon’s horde do you have in there?” Bharok grumbled in amazement. His shock was soon focused on the large section of stone and sand crashing down into the pit. The black ooze sloshed slowly around, looking for its victim.

Baelira shattered the potion on the wall of the pit, and the liquid fire rained down on the slime. The creatures burned like an oil lamp, and the fire spread quickly as it failed to escape. It was a smokeless burn, but the heat was intense and forced us back, and we had to wait for the flames to die down before crossing. Even then, a sweltering heat rose from the pit as we shuffled along the shelf.

A few turns and two sand spiders later, we reached our next room. “Is that a swamp?” Bharok asked, slightly confused.

“It is,” I said as large mosquitoes buzzed in the air, bullfrogs croaked in concert, and the hint of silvery fish swam in the murky waters. Mossy islands and gnarled roots supported dark green trees.

“It is bigger than in the archives,” Baelira noted. I just nodded as we couldn’t see the other side of the room. In the readings, it had only been about thirty yards across. We could at least twice that far, and couldn’t make out the opposite wall.

“Water nagas are extremely intelligent hunters. They also have innate spells for illusion, water, and mind affinities,” I announced, scanning the room.

“Then why are we entering?” Bharok voiced. After the mimic encountered his bravery was muted.

“There is only one,” I responded while looking for ripples in the water.

“It has two heads and each head can control a different spell,” Baelira reminded me.

“It still only has one heart,” I replied confidently. “Ready?”

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