The Ravenlight Party broke into a dead sprint toward the altar at the far northern end of the circular platform, boots pounding against sandstone as the torrent of antlions continued to rain down from the ceiling like some kind of nightmarish water spout that showed no signs of stopping anytime soon.
And from what Deacon could see with Blood Sense, it would be a long, long time until that would happen.
Charging forward through the chaos with the party flanking him on either side, Sam raised his staff high and began channeling mana into what Deacon immediately recognized as a large-scale Ignis spell, based on his own familiarity with the magic. Almost simultaneously, Esmerelda lifted her wand and unleashed a massive Gust, forming a swirling vortex of wind directly in front of them – both spells amplified by their respective mage armor sets.
The two spells collided midair and merged, the rushing wind feeding oxygen into the flames and transforming Sam's already substantial fireball into something far larger and more volatile. The resulting inferno slammed into the leading edge of the antlion swarm with such force that Deacon felt the heat wash over his face even from several meters away.
Chitin crackled and popped as dozens upon dozens of antlions were incinerated by the combined spell, their bodies reduced to ash and charred fragments that scattered across the platform. Yet even as those creatures died, more antlions were already landing, scrambling to their feet with mandibles clicking and legs scraping against stone as they oriented themselves toward the nearest sources of movement and heat.
Deacon wreathed Echoform Reliquary with Flame Armament without breaking stride, the familiar sensation of Undying Flame expanding outward from his body as it dried the moisture in the air and intensified the fire wreathing his dual short swords along with the fire spells Sam cast from behind.
As he reached the first cluster of antlions that had managed to recover from their fall, he drove his right blade through the thorax of the nearest creature while simultaneously casting Ignis wandless with his left hand, still gripping the hilt. The gout of flame caught two more antlions, setting their chitin alight before they could launch themselves at his face.
Beside him, Jass swept her glaive in a wide arc, bisecting an antlion mid-leap. Without missing a beat, she twirled the weapon, stomped her foot against the platform, and cast a medium-scale Earth Spear barrage that sent spikes of sandstone erupting from the ground to impale a dozen or so antlions rushing toward the right side of the party and Esmerelda, who stood directly behind her.
Sam was channeling spell after spell through his staff with barely a few seconds between casts, alternating between wind spells like Wind Arc, Wind Blast, and Wind Arrows that sheared through chitin with ease due to the lack of moisture, and explosive Ignis blasts that cleared entire clusters of enemies whenever they tried to move around Deacon, who was holding the front and left side as the head of the formation.
Esmerelda ran behind Jass and beside Bonehead, her wand moving through precise patterns as she wove together multi-elemental spells that provided crowd control for the whole party. Gust spells threw antlions off balance when they tried to swarm Deacon and Jass, while ice spells like Ice Arrow and Freeze froze enemies in place for the frontline to deal with. She also deployed Manashields as needed, protecting the party from hardened clots of sand spat by antlions lurking in the back.
Bonehead, in turn, hurled glass vials and bombs, each projectile shattering against clusters of antlions to release large globs of antlion insecticide or detonating in bursts of shrapnel that unleashed insecticide gas. The compounds cause the chitin and insides of the antlions to melt or convulse, killing them within seconds of contact with either the liquid or the gas, while entirely harmless to the rest of the Party.
They fought their way forward meter by meter, each step contested by antlions that seemed determined to drag them down through sheer weight of numbers if nothing else. Deacon found himself falling into the rhythm of combat that had become almost second nature over the past twenty-two hours: slash, cast, dodge, parry, move forward, repeat.
An antlion lunged at his throat and he caught it on his left blade before kicking it away and incinerating it with a point-blank Ignis, another tried to bite through his armor and he crushed its head with a Power Strike enhanced pommel strike, a third attempted to flank him from above and before it could even reach the apex of its leap a Wind Arrow from Sam took it out of the air before it could close the distance.
Eventually, after what felt like hours but was probably only a few minutes of constant fighting, they reached the altar at the northern end of the expanded platform. Deacon immediately positioned himself a few meters away from it with Jass at his side, the two of them seamlessly swapping places with the backline as the formation shifted.
What had been the frontline and backline were now reversed. Instead of pushing forward, they needed to hold their ground at the edge of the circular platform while the others focused on solving the riddle. Whether that meant opening the next zone, where their smaller numbers might be less of a disadvantage, or triggering some other event within the room, Deacon didn't know. He could only hope it involved something helpful, like golems or some other mechanism that would attack everything indiscriminately.
Until then, he and Jass formed a wall of steel and magic, determined to keep the antlions from reaching the rest of the party while they worked.
As they swapped positions in the formation, Deacon slammed the Ravenlight Banner into the ground between himself and the altar. The protective barrier sprang to life at once, its shimmering dome deflecting the streams of hardened sand spat toward them by several antlions in the back.
"Uh, I don't know this language," Bonehead said from somewhere behind Deacon, his voice carrying a note of genuine confusion that was quickly echoed by agreements from both Sam and Esmerelda, who were apparently equally stumped by whatever script had been carved into the altar's rim.
Confused by the fact that all three of them were struggling with a language when they'd managed the previous riddles without too much difficulty, Deacon carved through two more antlions with a horizontal cleave before managing to glance over his shoulder toward the altar to see what had them so baffled.
The text carved into the rim was written in characters he recognized immediately.
It was Jotnar, or at least what he assumed was the language of his race. It was a tongue he seemed to possess instinctive knowledge of, an inborn form of Jötunn magic that allowed him to speak and read it. Writing it, however, had been something he'd had to learn under the tutelage of his uncle.
Snapping his focus back to the antlions still trying to overwhelm their position through sheer numbers, despite now being a much lower level than them, Deacon shouted over his shoulder loud enough to be heard over the clash of combat, chittering mandibles, and spellfire. "It's in Jotnar. The riddle is: 'What grows heavier each time fewer people carry it?'"
The silence from behind him lasted maybe three seconds as his Party members began to mull over the potential answers, running through concepts and testing them against the riddle's wording.
After just over three minutes that felt like an hour, Jass and Deacon began to lose ground as a fresh surge of antlions pressed in. The swarm quickly sensed the weakening of their defensive line, taking advantage of the moment as the three in the back slowed their spellcasting, their focus divided between maintaining complex spells and trying to solve the riddle.
"Any time now would be great!" Jass shouted over her shoulder as she swept her glaive through another cluster of seven antlions. Even as the last body fell, she cast Earth Armor on herself, stone plating spreading across her torso just in time to deflect a particularly vicious bite from an antlion that lunged at her exposed side. The strike would have torn straight through her leather armor if not for the spell, catching her in the brief instant after her glaive finished its arc.
"We're thinking!" Sam shouted back, frustration clear in his voice as he sent another WindArc into the mass of antlions pressing against Deacon.
"Think faster!" Deacon yelled as he shifted Echoform Reliquary into its Ulfberht form and pulled his Bearclaw Heater Shield from his Spatial Sling Bag, bracing himself to block a coordinated assault from four brute antlions. Unlike their normal counterparts, these creatures possessed significantly higher physical stats and struck simultaneously.
I need a fucking shield clasp on my person, Deacon mentally yelled at himself.
"Burden?" Bonehead suggested, though his tone made it clear he wasn't confident in the answer. "A burden could feel heavier on a person when it falls onto one person to shoulder it."
"Sure, but what about leadership?" Sam countered as he raised his staff and unleashed a barrage of Water Arrows. Two of the four brute antlions attacking Deacon were struck, the spells freezing solid just before piercing through their eyes. "It fits the riddle just as well as a burden."
"What about grief?" Esmerelda offered quietly. She snapped her wand sideways toward Jass, conjuring a boulder of earth that tore through a large wave of incoming antlions. "When fewer people share grief, it becomes heavier for those who remain."
"That's actually pretty good," Sam said, "but I think there might be something more… I dunno–"
"Responsibility," Deacon said, suddenly interjecting, his voice carrying over to their ears as he continued fighting off the endless wave of antlions while suggesting the answer. "When fewer people take responsibility for something, it becomes heavier for those who do. The more people who shirk it, the more weight falls on whoever's left carrying it. Guilt, leadership, burden, those all stem from a sense of responsibility."
"Sure!" Jass agreed immediately as she stomped the ground in front of her, casting Earth Wall. A wide, semicircle of sandstone walls rose from the platform, stretching from her position all the way to Deacon's.
She brought her fists to her chest, then thrust them forward, and the raised walls surged ahead in response, driving the antlion swarm back. The reprieve lasted only a few seconds before the walls were swallowed by the mass of bodies and the charge resumed unabated. "That's definitely it. Just get to writing it!"
But with Deacon being the only one who could read and write Jotnar, and the antlion swarm already having closed the distance they'd just forced open, there was no sign of it letting up long enough for him to safely break from the front line. If he was going to reach the altar and write the answer, they needed another approach — one that could buy him the precious seconds he'd require to complete the puzzle.
"Sam! Esmerelda!" Deacon shouted, an idea forming in his mind even as he cut down another antlion. "Combined spell; you two provide the wind, I'll provide the fire! Biggest thing we can manage!"
Understanding clicked immediately across both their faces, and Sam began channeling mana through his staff while Esmerelda raised her wand, both of them building up a large-scale Gust spell that would require several seconds of concentration to properly form and shape into something that wouldn't just dissipate uselessly.
Ducking back and trusting Jass to cover the party for the next few seconds, Deacon felt his mana reserves dip as he began channeling the most powerful Ignis spell he could manage without a wand. Heat built in his chest and radiated down his arms, the flames responding as he held the spell at the brink of release, waiting for Sam and Esmerelda's wind magic to be ready.
"Now!" Sam shouted, causing Jass to leap away from where she took over and held the front of their formation.