Things started out going well.


    Zoe cut through the bars of her cell with an ease that surprised even her. By this point, anyone who wasn’t invested in the unfolding events was either unconscious or dead. There were a few of those.


    The next step was to figure out what her next steps were even supposed to be. Zoe didn’t have a plan other than ‘get out of the cell and then start an escape.’ It might have been wise to think about that before causing a large commotion.


    As always, Lilith was more than happy to help. “I suggest we free a couple of the more useful-looking ones. Then we use some of the less useful ones as cover and prepare to ambush some guards.”


    Zoe was happy with that. She didn’t have a better idea, so she went ahead and cut her way into the cell with the Lycan woman. And after that, what do we do? Cause a bunch of chaos and hope we don’t die? She set about cutting the woman out of her shackles.


    “That’s pretty much the plan, yeah.” Lilith’s confirmation was good enough for Zoe. If the apparition had a clever plan, she would undoubtedly have heard it by now.


    The wolf-lady was calm as she sat in silence. Once her shackles were fully off, Zoe pulled her to her feet. The woman wobbled for a bit—before a sudden strength rushed through her. Something to do with getting the abilities from her core back, Zoe surmised.


    “Alright, I don’t actually have much of a plan here, so…”


    The woman peered out of the cell. Everyone except Lodtvik was now clamoring for Zoe’s attention. The Lycan woman shook her head. “If they weren’t already alerted by this racket, you cutting through those restraints would have set off an alarm.” She looked back at Zoe. One of her fuzzy little wolf-ears twitched. “You got any more weapons where that one came from?”


    Zoe paused. Do I? She did, but most of them were corrupted. Only three weren’t, and only two of those were usable by someone who was Rank E. Giving one up… “Yeah sure,” Zoe decided, reaching into her inventory and searching for the right choice.


    /Weapons/Uncorrupted


    > Scythe of Loathing


    > Embittered Venom Strike


    > Scepter of Disdain


    The Lycan woman could only use the first two—the last one required Rank C to wield the actual magic baked into it. Regardless, the choice was obvious. Zoe tossed her new friend the Venom Strike.


    The weapon was a nasty-looking spear that quite literally sizzled with dark, noxious mana. The Scythe of Loathing looked more like something Zoe would end up using, as it was not only an infernal weapon but also matched her sub-variety of Disdain. For a ‘corrosive death-Lycan?’ The poison spear was the clear choice.


    “Thanks.”


    The woman didn’t wait to start setting other prisoners free—it looked like they came to the same natural conclusion. “What’s your name by the way?”


    The woman didn’t pause to reply as she melted her way into another cell. “Sasha. You?”


    “Zoe.” After she freed her second prisoner, Zoe took a moment to strategize. Sasha was far from the strongest person here, that much was clear. The reason she went for the Lycan first—and loaned her a weapon—was that they could speak the same language. In terms of usefulness, that counted for quite a lot.


    But who next? Zoe’s eye landed on the one guy who wasn’t obviously inHuman—and also the only one who was both conscious and totally relaxed. Granted, he couldn’t move if he had wanted to—but he could talk, and he wasn’t pleading for her attention like everyone else. He just smiled at her.


    “Do not free the soul-eater.”


    Zoe glanced at Sasha. Why not? The man was clearly the most powerful person here. The fact that he’d obscured his status would have made that harder to guess—Zoe was only Rank F, but she could do that too. No, what made it clear was how he was in the one cell that had ‘extra high security’ written all over it. Well not literally. But it was still clear.


    “Okay, I won’t free the soul-eater,” Zoe called out as she made her way over to free the soul-eater. That’s when the solid-metal door to the sector flew off its hinges.


    The dented slab of metal screamed through the air mere inches away from Zoe’s face. Had she been but a second faster, she would have experienced her second decapitation that day. Not one to squander her good fortune, she dove forward just in time to avoid the following barrage of magical death.


    Others weren’t so lucky. There were some screams and maybe someone died. Zoe wasn’t paying attention. She had a job to do.


    “You seem quite intent on freeing me, you know.”


    Zoe was so confused for a moment that she forgot to make progress on getting into his cell. She also took a scorching ray of light to the shoulder. Hissing in pain, she gave up forcing her way into the cell in favor of reaching a blood whip through the bars to get him out of the shackles first. Not without hissing in pain from her cauterized flesh, first. “What the fuck happened to your accent?”


    The soul-eater, Lodtvik, blinked as Zoe’s whip sawed through the first of his bindings. “What you are asking? Lodtvik is still learn to speaking your Veyrse.”


    Uh huh. “Yeah, sure, say what you want,” Zoe muttered. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that little lapse if you help me out of here, yeah?”


    “Okay.”


    And with that, he was out.


    Out of the shackles. He was still imprisoned in the cell, as the bars wouldn’t give under Zoe’s strongest assault. That was saying a lot, as her lovely Demonic Ice Sickle carved through the rest of the cells’ bars with ease.


    She’d leave her second new partner to deal with it. Now, it was her turn to deal with the guards, who continued pouring into the aisle from up ahead. Also, Zoe now realized why she’d been able to focus on the task without someone just killing her with another light ray.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    The answer was simple. They were all bunched up and occupied by cutting their way through the press of angry and violent bodies closer to the entrance. In the time it took Zoe to decide to free Lotvik and then actually do it, Sasha had been busy—and so had the other inmates she freed. It was like a chain reaction of freedom.


    All but two or three prisoners had exited their cells—and most of them were dead now. The highest rank Zoe saw among the guards was ‘only’ Rank D—but that was higher than most of the prisoners. The same held for their respective averages.


    Even so, the combination of unexpected chaos and sheer numbers worked in their favor. The first major problem from here on was that there was exactly one exit—and said exit was currently plugged up with mutilated bodies, violent monster-people, and armed killers. The second problem cropped up just as Zoe contemplated attempting a mad charge straight through the flesh-mass and leaning on her healing to survive the passage.


    Namely, the evident guard-captain whom identify told her was Rank C.


    Rank D was already leagues ahead of Zoe—Rank C was enough to take on—and take down—every other person here at once. And unlike that alchemist Andric, Zoe was only able to get this guy’s rank. Not even his class or level range were visible. Which means he’s even stronger. Fuck.


    And in the space it took Zoe to do that, he’d already slaughtered his way through the bulk of the opposition. Shit. “Hey hey, hand me that almost-dead guy, would you?” Tearing her gaze away from the approaching juggernaut, Zoe looked to Lodtvik, and then to where he was pointing. “Yeah, that one.”


    Uh, okay. Zoe didn’t get it, but it wasn’t like she had anything else to do. She just had to hope that Lodtvik could do something useful with the almost-dead guy before the guard captain got too close. Said captain was, at the moment, being delayed by some kind of plant-guy. The Rank D Dryad still held his ground—but not for long. Zoe locked eyes with the Rank C guard just as she tossed the bleeding man over to Lodtvik’s cell.


    The captain’s eyes widened. Ignoring the dryad entirely, he sent a jagged spear of shimmering white air screaming towards them. Zoe prepared to heal herself back from the brink of death—but the blow never came. He wasn’t aiming for me—he was aiming not for Lodtvik either but instead the wounded prisoner between them.


    This was good, because the twisting spike of condensed air tore the man apart like confetti. Gross! What was worse than the blood splatter were all the little bits of flesh that sprayed over Zoe.


    Shit. Now what? The guard must have foiled whatever Lodtvik was doing, as he sent another blast of wind ripping through the vines of the dryad. Zoe needed to reevaluate her plans for escape. She stepped back into one of the cells. Almost all of the action had been taking place in the central aisle—but with the exception of Lodtvik’s cell, her sickle could cut a path through them. Just have to hope I’m fast enough.


    She wasn’t fast enough. The last prisoner between her and the guard captain fell, and the Rank C killer’s eyes pivoted to her position. Fuck. It seemed a few people had been able to slip past him in the chaos—but not Zoe. Basil, you better get your ass in here now… I mean you said dying would be inconvenient, right?


    “Hey, so word of advice—“ Zoe’s and the captain’s attention snapped back to the one other living person in the room. “If you’re close enough when the soul departs, it doesn’t actually matter if you killed it yourself.”


    Even as Lodtvik continued speaking, the Rank C guard redirected his last attack—the one intended for Zoe. But the seemingly nondescript man didn’t even flinch as the violent magic streaked towards him. He didn’t even dodge—he just flicked his hand towards the captain.


    There was no visible magic or skill activation to go with it. Yet the screaming wind magic never quite reached him. It dissipated in a chaotic blast of air, rather than the deadly spire from before. But that wasn’t all.


    Zoe knew she should take the momentary advantage to flee—yet she couldn’t help but stare as the captain staggered and clutched his chest, as if struck by some invisible force. He staggered again, and then twitched, his limbs spasming as his eyes went wild in a silent struggle. And then he went still.


    No, he didn’t collapse—he just froze, as if all the force animating his muscles just ceased. Finally, Zoe managed to start moving again—though she kept half her attention on the events still unfolding before her.


    With the indifferent expression of a man used to such things, Lodtvik flicked his fingers—and the guard captain regained animation. Only, he now lurched over to the cell with all the grace of a jerky puppet. His eyes remained glassy and dead, not so much looking at his hands as he retrieved a key and slammed it into the lock.


    The door swung open. Zoe swallowed. What the fuck was that?


    Lilith sounded—nervous. “Some kind of soul-magic. Very nasty at that—and this is pure speculation, but I’d guess he created a parasitic soul-construct out of the soul from the monster we tossed him. That would explain whatever ability he used to do… this.”


    Zoe’s mouth went a bit dry. That’s fucked up. Uh, is that normal for spooky soul magic? Somehow, the true answer was worse than what she feared.


    “No. Not at all. As I said—speculation. I’ve little knowledge of anything like this—and I imagine it would take an immense degree of skill to execute at all. Let alone within seconds during an ongoing battle.”


    And that’s how Zoe came to feel she was in even more danger after the captain was… defeated. Guess we know why Sasha didn’t want us to free this guy, now. But what was done was done, and Zoe might as well press the advantage. “So, got any plans after this? I know we just met and all, but I certainly wouldn’t mind getting to know each other a little more.”


    “Are you seriously propositioning him?”


    Zoe didn’t understand why Lilith sounded so incredulous. Uh, yeah? Not as a romantic partner, silly. I mean as a killing people partner.


    “Ah.” And with that, Lilith was satisfied. Of course she was.


    Lodtvik himself seemed partial to the idea as well. “Of course, if you’d like. I’d be remiss to spurn the graces of the young lady who assisted me—let alone those of a higher Demon.”


    Nice. Neither said anything else as they joined up in the middle and set off for the rest of the prison. Zoe didn’t need her high perception to pick up on the din of battle and explosions shaking the stone walls from further out. Looks like enough people made it out to continue the chain reaction. Seems like they’d have better measures in place to prevent something like this, though. Zoe then shrugged at that. It wasn’t exactly her problem.


    What was her problem was that there was no sign of that wolf-lady, Sasha. Zoe gave that particular woman her venom strike spear for a reason, yes—but it was a rental, not a gift. I want my spear back.


    “Say,” Lodtvik drawled from beside her—all traces of his former ‘accent’ gone. “I hesitate to ask more of you so soon—yet I can’t help wondering about those weapons you’ve conjured.”


    Ah. Zoe got the hint. If you can even call that a hint, she mused. She didn’t mind giving the ‘soul-eater’ a weapon in principle—rather, the issue was which one. She wasn’t giving him the scythe of loathing, because that would be too useful for her when she finally reached Rank E.


    She couldn’t give him the scepter of disdain, either—the reason was identical, save for that it would be when she reached Rank D. All that was left, then, was her extensive stash of corrupted weaponry.


    Zoe might not have much idea what corruption was—in fact she had zero idea—but she knew it couldn’t be good. The system was cheeky, but it didn’t play around. You shouldn’t touch something whose very description said not to touch it.


    But what was the harm in asking? “Well,” she chewed her lip, “—what do you think about corrupted weapons?”


    Lodtvik’s response surprised her as they stepped out of the ruined doorway and into the wider prison. He grinned. “What would you say to a practical Demonstration?”