A Side Effect

At least, that's what they thought at first. But after five hours of nonstop trudging through the dark, cramped tunnels, Bregg decided to say something about it.

"Why would these lazy bastards live so far down in the damned ground? This defeats the whole purpose of being lazy!"

"Can it, Bregg!" barked the sergeant.

"Why, sarge? Gus' bubble keeps our voices in anyway, so why should we suffer in silence?"

"Because, you nitwit, it doesn't block ALL of the sounds," the sergeant hissed. "It just muffles it. This is a Spell Gus has, not his actual Skill; it's a side effect, so we shouldn't put so much blind faith in it. If those goat fuckers hear you yammering your damn head off, you'll bring the entire tribe down on us."

"I-I'm sorry, sarge. I didn't know."

"You should; I gave all of you explicit orders to memorize each other's Skills and Spells. Now you better shut your mouth, or I'm putting a strike on your record, understand?"

Bregg nodded so fast Fate worried the man might give himself whiplash. After that, they continued in silence for another hour before seeing a hint of a bigger space at the end of the tunnel. The sarge held up a hand, signaling to them to stop, and waved Higgs forward.

Higgs crept forward and stopped just shy of the opening before inhaling a deep breath. At once, the earth around him flowed and shifted, wrapping around him and cloaking him in dirt and mud.

Thus shielded, he advanced stealthily into the cavern, keeping to the wall until he was no longer within their sight. Five minutes later, he came back, the earth dropping off of his face to reveal his unsmiling face.

"Well?" the sergeant whispered.

"Imps, hundreds of them. Most are asleep, but a few are 'tending' to goats. I hope this is their main living area and not just an offshoot. With Madds and Richard out of commission, we only have myself and Brent for indirect Mana attacks. That's a lot of imps for six men with swords."

"I don't like it either, but this is what we signed up for. Besides, we've done better with worse. Madds and Richard are too far to be of help anytime soon, so it's up to us. Stay close to each other.

"Brent and Higgs, protect the rest of us when you feel it's necessary, but focus on offense. This will take all night otherwise. And remember, no Mana, unless you can think of a way to use it without touching the imps with it."

The Guards nodded, pulling out their swords if they hadn't already and preparing to run. To Fate's right, Higgs' face disappeared as it was once more covered by the thick dirt and rock that cloaked the rest of his body.

Brent dug his foot into the soil, closing his eyes as vines sprouted from the dirt and wrapped up his leg, growing upwards and coiling around him until his left leg, torso, and right arm were wrapped in thick green vines. Yanking his feet out of the dirt, he stepped forward with a sober expression.

"On my mark," whispered the sergeant. "Three, two, one… mark!"

The group burst into motion as one, Gus' barrier muffling their steps and giving them a few extra seconds of reprieve as they charged forth. Upon entering the cavern, Higgs and Brent immediately went to work, shooting down the few awake imps with rocks and thorns, respectively.

All of them died instantly, one of them slumping down amusingly onto the back of the goat it was just 'cultivating.' The goat bleated in fear, blood staining its white coat as it tried to shake off the imp.

The Guard and Fate went around the cavern, stabbing every imp they could before they woke up. They managed to clear about half of the imps' numbers before one of them pushed itself to a sitting position, rubbing its bleary eyes. It blinked, temporarily hiding its goat eyes from view, then blinked again, squinting at the Guards as if it couldn't believe what it was seeing.

And maybe it couldn't. After all, if even the imps, the greatest of races (in its mind, anyway), could barely make the effort to go down that horrible tunnel to make it here, what chance did a human stand?

And yet the truth was there for it to see with its own eyes, undeniable and irrefutable. Understanding that these humans were indeed real, and not some fever dream caused by too much booze the day before, it scrambled to its feet, snatching its pitchfork off the ground and thrusting it toward the Guards dozens of feet away, believing the metal instrument combined with its terrifying snarl was fearsome enough to ward them away.

Its tactic was, unsurprisingly, ineffective. The humans turned to the imp, their eyes glowing with the telltale signs of mana as they did what it thought only imps had the privilege to do.

Their gazes pierced through the darkness and landed upon it not with fear, as it was accustomed to, but contempt and anger. It realized abruptly that many of its brothers were already slain by these humans, the knowledge like an ice-cold bucket of water dumped on his head as shivers traveled down his spine.

It became obvious to the imp that it had no chance on its own. Its snarl turned to a sneer as it remembered that many of its brethren were still alive, a screech emanating from its mouth and bouncing off of the cave walls. Around its feet, its fellow imps stirred from their slumber, roused to wakefulness as it explained in its harsh, grating tongue that what these humans had done.

Its screech was followed by many others as three hundred or so imps echoed their rage, grabbing their pitchforks and chains and approaching the Guards with snarling faces.

The sergeant gestured in a looping motion, and everyone gathered around him, Brent and Higgs to each side and the rest completing the circle as they were surrounded. In the background, the goat finally shook off the imp corpse and made a dash for the tunnel, bleating fearfully as it smelled the blood on the air.