《Abyssal Curse [Soul LitRPG]》


 Chapter 1: Just a Barback

    A fist studded with rings slammed against Mischa¡¯s face, snapping his head sideways. His jaw cracked, shooting a tooth out of his mouth. Pain exploded and blood streamed down his chin.


    The DJ cut the jazzy house music. Screams from the club''s patrons replaced the bass while the dance lights continued to flash. One chorus ago, everyone had been having the time of their lives. Now they scattered in panic, finally realizing the place was being robbed.


    Not worth the pay to get beat up. Of course it¡¯s me who has to fight the giant, Mischa somehow registered through his panic.


    Raising scarred, spindly arms to block, Mischa braced for another hit. No luck¨Cthe large thief in the black suit delivered a brutal punch to his temple. His vision blurred, and right after a heavy knee connected with his gut. Doubled over from the pain, he gasped for air.


    ¡°Should¡¯ve let us take the money. It¡¯s not even yours. You¡¯re just the barback,¡± the thug sneered.


    Behind a nearby door, Mischa heard his boss yell and plead with another thief for his life.


    Where the fuck is Security?


    A deafening gunshot sounded next to their fight from behind the door. Glass bottles shattered, followed by a heavy thump. His boss''s begging stopped.


    They¡¯re going to fucking kill me!


    The crowd down the hall pressed each other desperately through the front door into the icy night. If Mischa could just get past the giant man kicking his ass, he could make it.


    Primal fear for his life made him think of something, anything, to fight back with.


    ¡°Oh, fuck.¡± the brute said, glancing at the door. The closed office door remained silent as Mischa shakily reached into his pocket for the corkscrew he always carried while working.


    No one ever ordered wine at the club. They came for the vodka bottles frozen in blocks of ice, plush red couches hidden in dark corners, and the burlesque show that ran until the early morning hours. Still, his boss had insisted he keep a corkscrew on hand, just in case.


    Mischa fumbled with the cutter on the corkscrew. Too slow.


    ¡°What do you think you¡¯re doing?¡± The man said in an annoyed tone.


    Mischa¡¯s head was ripped upwards as the man yanked his long, messy black hair.


    Another crunch, this time his nose. Pain erupted and his eyes watered as he was shoved hard. He stumbled backwards, crashed into the bathroom door and landed hard onto the wet, cold ground.


    Piss. I¡¯m going to die covered in piss.


    ¡°What did you do?!¡± the brute yelled at his accomplice, who had just come out of the office with a giant bag stuffed with cash.


    ¡°He pulled a gun! It¡¯s fine. Got the money. Security still out front?¡± Mischa recognized the voice that answered back at the giant from the hallway. The small man had trained Mischa on his first day two months ago.


    Ron. I hate that prick.


    ¡°You idiot, look,¡± the brute said, throwing the swinging bathroom door open. Ron¡¯s mousy face paled at seeing Mischa, bloodied and beaten on the floor.


    Mischa crab-walked backward until he hit the stall. The club¡¯s lights still flashed, casting their faces in darkness every other second in the hallway.


    ¡°Mischa? Shit! SHIT! He knows me. Knows your face, too!¡± Ron yelled, voice cracking as he glanced frantically towards the back door that led to the alley.


    ¡°Deal with it. We have to go. Now.¡± The large man said with finality.


    Ron hesitated for a moment, then walked into the bathroom.


    ¡°Ron, no. Please, don¡¯t do this,¡± Mischa begged, tears streaking his bloodied face as he pressed himself further back. Nowhere left to go.


    ¡°Sorry, Mischa, it¡¯s business.¡± Ron said flatly as he aimed the gun at Mischa¡¯s head.


    Mischa threw his hands in front of his body, desperate to shield himself.


    ¡°Don¡¯t! Please! I¡¯ll do anythi-¡±


    A flash of light, followed by another deafening pop of the gun. Mischa felt sudden pain between his eyes, and then, nothing.


    Like many before him, he died powerless.


    Endless, comfortable darkness swallowed Mischa. He felt the Abyss take him as it swallowed everything. His pain, his fear, even his thoughts. Yet, something lingered.


    A weight. A burden.


    Anything? An ancient voice whispered from the void. Mischa faded away.


    <hr>


    ¡°Mitch! Mitch! Wake up! Three hours till open! Limes, don¡¯t forget the limes this time! And the espresso sludge! Four bottles!¡± A fist banged on the thin door, rattling the frame, and a gruff voice shouted for someone named Mitch.


    Micha¡¯s back ached from the thin mattress beneath him, but at least it was warm.


    Adrenaline replaced grogginess and he leapt out of bed. His head smacked the low, slanted ceiling. Pain flared.


    Shit!If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Heart racing, Mischa looked around the small room like a trapped animal. It was barely the size of a broom closet.


    A bed was wedged in the corner, taking up most of the space. The small side table held an earpiece. A greasy window let in a trickle of light. One wall slanted sharply, connecting with the corner of the other. A pile of clothes sat on the floor.


    What is going on? I was just shot in the head. Why am I in an attic?


    ¡°Mitch? You good? You were making some right weird noises last night. Lot of¡­thumping about. Were you cryin¡¯? I know yer alone in there, what¡¯re ye doin¡¯?¡± the same voice asked again, this time concerned.


    Mischa¡¯s head snapped to the short wooden door, nerves still flared. Gulping, he spoke.


    ¡°Yeah, all good. Smacked my head is all. Stupid damned wall, gets in the way all the time,¡± he answered, startling himself. A deep bass trembled out of his throat; a voice much lower than he was used to. Looking down at his hands, his eyes widened.


    Rather than the sleek, feminine hands he was ashamed of, they were massive. Thick, calloused things. Turning them over, he stared at the knuckles, bulging and laced with fresh scars. When he clenched them, he felt strength surge through his arms.


    What the¡­?


    The voice outside laughed. A booming, warm laugh. ¡°Again? You gotta stop doing that, big guy. Let¡¯s go, we¡¯ve got to set up. And Robin¡¯s in one of his moods again!¡± Short, heavy footsteps tramped down the hallway, creaking the stairs as they descended.


    Hathgar. The name popped into Mischa¡¯s head, along with an image: a stocky dwarf with a wild grin and a fiery red beard that overwhelmed a round face. He was a fellow barback at Club Mythos, working while traveling the world. Very loud. They were friends. Hathgar owed him several rounds of drinks.


    As his mind raced, vague memories floated to the surface, like opening small drawers in his brain. It felt like rifling through someone else¡¯s things, familiar, yet alien.


    Shaking off confusion, Mischa glanced down at his body, noticing for the first time he was completely naked. The chest he was staring down at was huge. Freakishly muscular and covered in countless scars.


    Jesus, I¡¯m massive. What are those scars from?


    During his childhood, he had been underfed by his drunk of a father. His previous small frame had been the result of years of malnutrition, and had left him with spindly limbs and short stature. Now, he felt like he was an oversized, amateur bodybuilder.


    Carefully, so as not to smack his head, he rummaged through clothes that felt too large in his hands. Black t-shirts and black pants. Ripe from dried sweat.


    Holy shit! I¡¯ve been reborn into another barback!


    Mischa felt great. He could feel the strong muscles coiled under his skin. His breath came clearer than ever before as he took deep breaths from clean lungs. Slipping on the least smelly set of clothes, he took stock of his situation.


    Ok¡­not sitting in piss, covered in blood, definitely not dead. Ok, breathe. Roll with it.


    The pants were snug but comfortable against his trim waist. He didn¡¯t want to tug the t-shirt, which sat flush against his body. Usually, he would pull at it, slowly stretching it out through the day, hoping to hide his small frame that still held a paunch.


    Am I tall now? Is this Mitch guy a giant?


    He couldn¡¯t help himself, and flexed his arm muscles as he laced up the leather boots he found stashed under his mattress. Forearm muscles bulged, thick veins running across them like loose cables.


    Just how strong am I?


    As he finished his mental question, a window of text popped up in his mind.


    Mitchell Quarlette


    Age: 25 years??


    Race: ? Unknown, ? Human


    Quests (Burdens)??


    Credits


    Skills (Afflictions)


    Titles


    Afflictions? Burdens? Oh, that¡¯s fantastic. 25 years infinity? One half unknown? What am I?


    Mitch could feel that with a thought, he could easily dive deeper into any part of his Status Screen.


    Let¡¯s see what we¡¯re dealing with here. What¡¯s familiar? Money. Money is familiar. Titles? What are Titles? Your name is Mitch. One step at a time. Breathe. Don¡¯t even think about that flashing Quest screen that¡¯s called Burdens and has a skull next to it. Nope. Afflictions? No thank you.


    Mitch selected Titles first.


    Empty. Hmmm.


    He tentatively selected the Credits option with his mind.


    Credits


    Debts: -1,000,666*


    Assets: 27 Credits, 0 Souls*, 0 Flesh*


    Interest: -666/day


    Cashflow: 100/day (Barback Salary)


    Oh no! Crapload of debt! What is this place? Souls¡­? This is bad. This is very bad. It¡¯s got to be that Quest notification.


    His heart dropped as the earpiece on the table buzzed. A high-pitched voice screeched through, filling the small room with potent energy.


    ¡°Mitch! Bloody hell man, get your ass downstairs. Limes! Espresso, make it six bottles. Prep all the beluga vodka. All reso''s are canceled. We¡¯ve got a buyout tonight. Crae''s Agency. Bigguns. Oh yes, you and Hathgar circle the couches like last time.¡± Robin¡¯s nasally voice departed just as quickly as it spoke.


    Robin.


    Again, a name filled his mind. Robin was the eccentric owner of Club Mythos. A ghost with unusual Skills that made all parties he attended legendary. He rarely showed up before the guests arrived but always ensured everyone had the best time once he did. A good enough boss, though a bit unhinged.


    He does let me stay here for free. Decent guy.


    Another buzz.


    ¡°Oh, and I need you to grab a package. Mathilda¡¯s, one hour. Bring it to my office when you¡¯re back. Chop, chop!¡±


    Mathilda. She¡¯s nice. She¡¯s also a vampire. Dread Alley, first red door.


    The knowledge came immediately to him at mention of her name. Mitch sighed and walked to his small door.


    Feeling in his pockets, he pulled out a worn corkscrew and a slip of folded paper. He stared at the corkscrew, and then unfolded the handwritten note.


    I¡¯m sorry. The last guy left me a note as well. This body is now yours. So is the debt. The Abyss gives you power, but they will come for payment. He always collects what¡¯s owed. If you want to give up, you can. Or you can try to last longer than I did. Twelve years.


    His stomach clenched. He could feel it. A pull from the depths, like invisible hands tightening their grip.


    Twelve years? And you still failed? Why were you still a barback? What happened to you?


    Trembling, he opened the quest.


    Burden: Pay the Abyssal Debt


    The Abyss accepts all forms of payment.


    Status: Incomplete


    Active Debt: -1,000,666


    Interest: 666/day


    Currency: Souls, Flesh, Credits


    Do you give up?


    He felt that he could say yes to the final question of the burden. One moment of weakness, and he would die, ending his own life with a simple affirmation.


    Oh. This is bad. This is really bad.


    But Mitch wasn¡¯t ready to just give in. Not that easily. He had already overcome so much in his life. Forged his persistence.


    Mathilda¡¯s.


    She must know something. Vampires always did, especially in this city. She¡¯d been here in Shadowreach for centuries. Maybe longer. The weird memories that filled his head said so.


    Mitch opened the small door. He had limes to cut, couches to move, and an appointment with a vampire.

 Chapter 2: Glass & Grimace

    ¡°So Pa¡¯ stares at me uncle¡¯s jarred eye, dead serious, and says, ¡®And that¡¯s why you ain¡¯t never trust an orc with a red ring!¡¯¡± Hathgar¡¯s booming laugh erupted, shaking the cob-web infested lamps that floated freely above. The dwarf shoved the last blood red couch into place.


    ¡°That bastard¡¯s antics do make me miss Stonehollow, still haven¡¯t done nothing with them weapons though,¡± Hathgar added in his gruff accent, wiping a tear of laughter from his eye.


    Mitch silently polished glasses with a rag behind the bar, hands burning from cutting through hundreds of limes. He tried to focus on the simple task, but the weight of his one Affliction Skill cast a constant shadow over his mind. Curiosity had gotten the better of him earlier, and now he could feel the singular ¡®currency¡¯ sitting in his core.


    It was attached to the single Skill he discovered that he had.


    Abyssal Vault


    Level 1


    Collect and store Souls, Flesh, and Credits within. A living account for your Abyssal Debt. Meet a Collector to transfer the sum.


    Settlement Amount: 1 Soul, 0 Credits, 0 Flesh


    1 Soul? Whose? I have someone else''s soul inside of me?


    With the knowledge of his Skill came more unfurling memories about Skills in general. People were lucky to have one. Monstrously strong individuals had three or four, but they were exceedingly rare. All Skills had some sort of cost, but mana didn¡¯t exist in this world. Some people exhausted quickly with use, others depended on their life force, slowly withering away with each subsequent use. Many Skills simply recharged gradually, or had allotted uses that replenished and could grow with Skill levels.


    Couches ringed the dance floor. The painted black walls lined with empty, non-reflective frames seemed to observe the club in silence. Hathgar, ever the chatterbox, waved his muscular arms as he yapped about Crae¡¯s Agency¡¯s ridiculous booking requests.


    Mitch barely listened as he processed the news of his ability.


    ¡°Aye, I reckon if you¡¯ve got pockets deep as theirs, you can pay for any damned thing ye¡¯ want,¡± Hathgar grumbled, though his grin never left as he wiped down the bar. He eyed Mitch suspiciously, ¡°You alright, lad? I know yer the muscle and I''m the looks of the operation, but yer awful somber today, even with our buyout bonus.¡±


    Mitch flinched at Hathgar¡¯s question and forced a smile that felt more like a mask.


    I¡¯m already wearing someone else¡¯s skin. It is a mask.


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m good,¡± he lied, pushing the words out of his mouth. ¡°Just tired, didn¡¯t sleep well at all. Kept¡­uh¡­tossing and turning,¡± The corners of his mouth curved, but his eyes remained hollow as his anxiety began to get the better of him.


    Hathgar eyed him seriously, bearded grin disappearing, before he let out a deep chuckle. ¡°Aye, don¡¯t we all know that feeling, lad. Crae¡¯s lot might be particular, but we¡¯ll rake in a fortune tonight. Maybe I¡¯ll have enough for a decent keg of ale for us, none of that swill Robin serves!¡±


    He patted Mitch¡¯s arm roughly with a heavy hand, the warmth of his jovial friendship cutting through the fog.


    Maybe I am being a bit of a lug. It could have been worse, I could have been reborn into a worm.


    Yet Mitch¡¯s hands trembled on the dirty glass he cleaned with a dirtier cloth. The Abyssal Debt. The soul he carried in his core. He wasn¡¯t imagining it. It was there, locked away, sitting solemnly in a corner like a cowed animal. The cold reality settled in: he¡¯d been so sure that he could handle whatever came his way. Now, knowing the Soul was inside him, he wavered.


    What happens when the Collector comes to collect?


    His grip tightened on the glass, and with a sharp crack, it shattered in his hands.


    Pain surged through his palms as jagged shards dug into his skin. Blood welled, dripping and pooling on the surface of the bar. Mitch winced, but a strange sensation followed.


    The pain felt different. Fitting.


    Affliction Skill Gained


    Agony¡¯s Embrace


    Level 1


    Pain is power. Harness every drop of suffering, turning agony into unrelenting strength. Your torment permanently fortifies your body and amplifies your strength.


    Hathgar rushed over on short legs, thick body almost knocking Mitch over. ¡°Damn it, lad! What¡¯re ye doing? Look at yer hands!¡± He wrapped Mitch¡¯s dripping hands tightly with dusty cloth. ¡°They be strong as hammers, take it easy.¡±


    Mitch stared at his wrapped palms, twisted thoughts making him grin wildly. A faint surge of power flickered through his veins, the wounds granting him permanent power. The thought turned his stomach, yet he couldn¡¯t shake it.


    I can use this. They have no idea how much I can take. Already died once, haven¡¯t I?


    Memories from his past life brushed his mind. The torment he had endured. How far he had already come.


    He laughed darkly, smiling genuinely at Hathgar for the first time. Hathgar paused, frowning slightly, before smiling again. ¡°Thanks, I¡¯ll manage. I need to head to Mathilda¡¯s anyway. Package for Robin. You know how he is,¡±


    ¡°Mmm,¡± Hathgar groaned, squinting at Mitch. ¡°Watch yer neck. Never liked vampires. Sneaky blokes, cordin¡¯ to me father.¡± Hathgar clapped him on the shoulder, his warmth helping pull Mitch back from the unsettling thoughts. ¡°Just be careful, lad. And Crae¡¯s crowd isn¡¯t easy, you¡¯ll need both hands tonight if we¡¯re going to keep up.¡±Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    He grinned, squeezing Mitch¡¯s arm before stepping back. ¡°Ye¡¯ve heard how they can be.¡±


    Mitch nodded, feeling the pulse of his throbbing hand, pain humming through his body. Settling in. ¡°We¡¯ll be fine, what¡¯s the big deal, anyways? How bad can they really be?¡± He answered, but his mind was elsewhere. He had a package to pick up.


    Mathilda¡¯s package. Need to learn all that I can. I need more than these half memories.


    Slipping away from the bar, he snatched up a small backpack, and walked towards the back alley exit. Robin¡¯s office stayed shut, as it always did. Somehow, he knew he had never been inside.


    Mitch needed to walk. Perhaps the cool night air would help clear his head.


    ¡°Hey! Ye didn¡¯t do the damned espresso! Yer leaving it to me again, eh?¡± Hathgar¡¯s warm timber echoed down the hallway. It was made by Robin to always feel overwhelmingly long. With each step, the idea that he could embrace the pain to grow stronger lingered.


    ¡°I¡¯ll buy you a beer after! You still owe me a bunch, by the way. Think of the espresso as the start of your payment plan!¡± Mitch shouted over his shoulder. It was the oddest feeling, to meet someone entirely new, yet feel like they had been friends forever.


    It¡¯s my body. My body has these memories. Not me. But I do really like him¡­


    Pushing open the rusted metal door, Mitch hunched his large frame as he stepped into the cold, endless night of Shadowreach.


    The scent of garbage hit Mitch, forcing a grimace on his face as he stepped into the alley. Trash left to fester, weeks of rot piled up; Shadowreach had no sanitation crews, just the small crime lords who traded only in Credits or favors. Their rule was the only order the city knew. A fattened rat scurried over his boot, vanishing into the pile of filth it called home.


    As he stepped onto the main street, the city of endless night buzzed with life. Humans of all sizes alongside elves, orcs, and dwarves jostled for space along the narrow streets. Floating candles drifted lazily on their own currents, casting light and shadows across the looming, gothic architecture.


    Creepy. But cool.


    Mitch wished he had a collar to pull tighter, the cold nipping at his neck. Even with the bustling energy of the city around him, Shadowreach was forever frigid. The city was surrounded by the Depths on all sides, where earth cracked, leading to the underground cities, and further, the Abyss.


    Ok, these half memories are useful. I''m not totally clueless. But what goes on in the Abyss?


    Knowledge scratched at his mind, but wouldn¡¯t surface. His hand found the glass in his pocket, still warm. Out of the corner of his eye, he felt the stony glares of the enchanted, watching gargoyles that stood guard on their roof perches.


    Food stalls lined the cobblestone streets, run by all forms of life. The scent of roasting meat mingled with something that set Mitch¡¯s stomach on edge. A Ground Troll waved a skewer in his direction, but Mitch ignored it.


    My body knows that smell¡­grilled human flesh.


    He pushed his finger into the shard in his pocket, stabbing himself and sending a tiny, sharp pulse of power through him. It absorbed into his muscles, dark and alive, feeding on his self-inflicted wound. For years prior to his death, Mitch had worked through his self-harm tendencies. He had stopped, mostly, and made strides on working through his trauma.


    And now it¡¯s making me stronger in this new body. Morbid, man. Seriously morbid.


    It was how he dealt with the years of neglect and bullying. Mitch was accustomed to pain, and dark humor filled his mind at the process. Instead of hurting himself for a semblance of relief, the pain now permanently strengthened him.


    Down the street a Goblin peddled cursed relics, crooked fingers wrapped around a tarnished pendant that pulsed with dark energy. The crowd unconsciously steered clear, and Mitch could feel the circle of despair around the stall.


    ¡°Ho¡¯ there!¡± The vendor hissed, its hand fetid and black. ¡°Memory stone on a real Abyssal chain? Only used once, perfect for hiding things you¡¯d rather forget.¡±


    As Mitch moved on from the bustling stalls, the true rot of Shadowreach revealed itself.


    Grimlace addicts, bodies twisted and deformed in unnatural ways, huddled in corners or hobbled on ulcerated legs. Each Grimmer was easily identified by their permanent grimace and black eyes, no matter their race.


    Some stood frozen, mouths peeled back to show blackened teeth ruined by the smokable sludge of a drug. Others hunched with clenched, tight jaws; hollow eyes vacant. One twitching Grimmer clawed itself as Mitch passed, picking at her smiling lips, seeping blood onto her bare, thin chest. Mitch smelled the sweet rot of the drug that wafted off her ashen skin.


    This one¡¯s close. Too far gone. Any day now, pretty sure she¡¯ll lose what¡¯s left of herself.


    As Mitch approached Dread Alley, the floating candles thinned. A group of Grimmers huddled together near the final corner. Unlike many of the others, their grimaces were erratic. Black colored eyes darted around as they sensed something different about Mitch. These weren¡¯t new addicts. They were on the brink of losing all control of themselves.


    Passing, Mitch felt their eyes lock onto him. Wild, contorted expressions tracked his heavy steps. The soul in his core pulsed faintly.


    They smell it. They know my core is holding something valuable.


    The largest addict¡¯s remaining eyeball flickered with recognition, like he could sense what Mitch carried. He lunged forward towards Mitch, and his legs froze at the sudden confrontation.


    ¡°We know what you¡¯ve got, boy,¡± the skeletal man rasped, his voice broken from the harsh drug. ¡°It¡¯s inside, right there,¡± a too-long finger stabbed into his chest. ¡°They¡¯ll come soon ¡®nuff. No hiding from it.¡± The other Grimmers cackled, their laughter sharp and hollow as they returned back to their huddled state. To smoke more Grimlace.


    Mitch¡¯s heart raced as he scurried off, half expecting the Grimmers to follow. Hungry eyes burned into his back, but they stayed together, mingling in their filth. Laughing, they whispered to each other in nonsensical sentences only they understood.


    Finally arriving at his destination, his pace faltered as his reflection caught his eye on Mathilda¡¯s polished red door. The first time he was able to see his new body.


    A tall, ghostly pale, muscular figure stared back at him. Broad-shouldered and towering. For a moment, he forgot to breathe. Long, wavy hair the color of white frost parted across his forehead, framing his face. Dark, endless red irises stared back. He waved, and the stranger reflected in the door copied him. This body didn¡¯t belong to him, yet here it was, mimicking his every move.


    That¡¯s me?


    He wasn¡¯t sure if the reflection staring back at him was a dream or a nightmare. It was like looking into a distorted mirror. He saw a body that could break bone and crush souls. It wasn¡¯t his body. Not really.


    This new body might be his now, but it didn¡¯t feel like it. Not yet.


    I am fricken jacked, though. Holy shit.


    Unable to help himself, Mitch flexed and posed. There was something like pride that bubbled within him. His whole life, he had been picked on, but now, he had the body he wished he had. The body he always wanted.


    His fists clenched at his sides, the ache from the broken glass wounds throbbed, helping to ground him back to his new reality. The pain felt real, at least. Not like the skin he now wore.


    Shivering, he raised a giant fist and knocked three times, just like Mathilda asked of old friends.

 Chapter 3: Old Friends

    Red candles glowed on tightly packed shelves. Smoke curled out and wrapped around Mitch¡¯s body as he entered the small shop. With a faint thud, the door closed itself behind him, cutting off the outside world.


    His body immediately recognized the scents, spreading blossoming warmth through his chest. Musk, paper glue, and the faint smell of flowers knocked him slightly off kilter.


    It¡¯s as if my body knows this place.


    An ornate desk and purple high-backed chair sat empty directly in front of him. The shop looked unattended, which sent a surprising pang of disappointment through Mitch.


    What is going on? Why is my body reacting like this? Who is¡­no, who was she to me?


    Looking around, he inspected the cramped space. Jars of all sizes sat pressed together on one shelf. Their contents were unknowable to him, and they were thankfully sealed shut. Relics, large and small, lay haphazardly on shelves, organized in some pattern only understood by their current owner. Bones studded with gems, softly vibrating bracelets, and fanciful weapons were easily identifiable.


    Others¡­well, Mitch could only wonder what they were supposed to be. Twisted amalgamations of flesh and potent dark energy.


    At least I think that¡¯s flesh¡­


    ¡°Mitchell, you¡¯re late, as usual,¡± a husky, teasing feminine voice whispered in his ear, turning him towards the door.


    The air shifted, dimming the available light, and when Mitch turned back, Mathilda was seated in the purple chair behind the desk.


    Long, jet-black hair framed her milk-white face. She appeared to be a gorgeous woman in her late twenties. Perfect, save for the fine silver lines tracing her pale skin. It was cracked like marble, barely visible, but unmistakable upon closer inspection. The marks of an ancient, pure-blooded vampire.


    Damn. Crazy hot. Sheesh. He couldn¡¯t help the thought as he felt himself check out the vampire.


    ¡°Hello, newcomer.¡± She smiled at him, revealing her surgically sharp fangs. Shock and fear pulsed within him.


    She knows. How does she know?


    Before he could respond, she leaned forward and spoke softly. ¡°Careful now, your thoughts betray you. Many creatures bound to the Abyss have such Skills, mine is just particularly potent.¡±


    Her lavender perfume drifted towards him. Heat stirred low in his stomach, unwelcome and undeniable, his body reacting in ways he couldn¡¯t control. It called out to her.


    My body is reacting far too quickly for this to be normal. This must be a Skill.


    ¡°How¡­Who are you to me? My body knows you,¡± he said, fear gripping firmly to his spine, mixing with physical longing.


    Raising a manicured finger, she wagged it at him as if he were a mere boy. ¡°Not quite the man you once were, isn¡¯t that right?¡± Her voice dripped with faux sincerity.


    A strange force pulsed between them, freezing him and thickening the air as she carried on. ¡°A bullied boy, a family disavowed. Taking it for years, never standing up for yourself once. I¡¯ll bet a part of you even misses it. The beatings from your father with that dog leash. The taste of dirt and laughing schoolmates. At least they noticed you, then.¡±


    The words stabbed at him, more painful than they should be from a stranger. Mitch¡¯s throat constricted. A sharp ache built behind his ribs. Rage surged beneath the surface, each breath rough. Clenching his fists, he felt the glass wounds tear anew, mixing with the raw ache of old hurts barely healed.


    How does she know about my past?


    ¡°Get the hell out of my head,¡± he growled. But his body remained locked in fear by the door. All his life, he would fight, but only if backed into a corner. A result of never being as big as anyone else.


    ¡°You think you can handle what¡¯s coming? After soiling your pajamas in anticipation of a drunk fathers¡¯ beatings? I can¡¯t believe you made it this far without ending it all already, even before you were brought here,¡± she mocked him as the air pressed harder. Humiliation, shame, anger, and fear shoved any rational thought aside.


    Gentler, she spoke. ¡°Cast it aside, Mitchell. You need to. Lock it away.¡±


    Why is she saying this, if my body recognizes her as friendly?


    Confusion mixed in, and he tried to calm his hammering heart and whirling head of dark emotions.


    Breathe. In¡­out. Don¡¯t let it consume you.


    Affliction Skill Gained


    Devoid


    Level 1This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    Lock away undesired emotions and thoughts. Feel only what you wish.


    All emotions and thoughts must be addressed eventually.


    The new Affliction Skill rushed into him, settling inside like a false drawer. Mitch took as much of the shame, anger, and fear of his past and pressed it into his Devoid Skill. A torrent of relief washed over him as much, but not all, of the emotions squeezed into the small box within him.


    With a final shove, he slammed the door shut. Rationality returned.


    Her dark laugh garnered his attention, ¡°You¡¯re welcome. With thoughts as loud as yours, I had to be a bit more¡­forceful. I¡¯m sorry, but it was necessary. I can still hear them, but I am¡­special.¡±


    Special?


    ¡°Did you do that for the others? How many of us?¡± The question came out like mud from Mitch, the stark reality of his circumstance bubbling forth from the absence of emotions.


    ¡°Some, but not all. Each had different Skills, but there are some¡­similarities. The Abyss marks each of you differently. All have shattered under its weight.¡± She stated, her voice steady but filled with sorrow.


    ¡°What am I supposed to do? If you know of the Abyssal debt, you must know something. Anything.¡± His voice came out strained.


    ¡°Answers I cannot give you,¡± Mathilda¡¯s lips twitched, a flash of something. Pain, perhaps, or regret. She lowered her gaze from meeting his own, tracing the fine silver lines along her palm. ¡°I¡¯m¡­bound. Just like you, Mitchell. Bound by a pact older than this ancient city. There are certain things a vampire cannot reveal, as the pacts bind us. They hold my tongue as they hold your fate.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s it then? Figure it out, or die like the others? Kill myself?¡± His voice cracked. ¡°I¡¯m supposed to kill and collect souls? Thieve until I¡¯m caught? For a debt I don¡¯t even understand. Face the Collector? I need something!¡±


    ¡°Collectors. That much I can say,¡± meeting his gaze again, she leaned back in her chair. ¡°And this. Just a word of advice,¡± the candlelight reflected off her eyes as she continued. ¡°Remember, one must always go forward. The way is never paved by going around. That I can say, as it¡¯s general advice.¡±


    I¡¯m supposed to embrace what¡¯s happening to me? Is that what she means?


    Mitch¡¯s eyes fell to the cuff pendant around her neck. His body stirred with recognition, but the knowledge danced just out of reach, behind a locked drawer. Straining, he could almost taste it. But no matter how hard he reached, the memory slipped through his fingers, fading like a forgotten song.


    ¡°Thank you for helping me with the Skill,¡± he said quietly. ¡°I don¡¯t think I can repay you for that.¡±


    ¡°Polite, too.¡± she said coyly. ¡°The last one was much too sulky. One can only hope you don¡¯t squander your time like him. As for payment¡­hmm,¡± she tapped her finger on her black lips, thinking.


    Is she toying with me?


    Mathila¡¯s serious face peeled back in a viscous smile, eyes gleaming in the low candlelight. Without a word, she gracefully reached below her desk and withdrew a small black box, wrapped in silver chains that glimmered in the flickering candlelight. The chains were far too heavy for such a small object. She placed it on the desk before him, the weight of its presence unsettling.


    ¡°This,¡± she said in a pleased tone, ¡°is for Robin. He will know what to do with it, and Crae¡¯s lot will be more than satisfied. Its delivery is payment enough.¡±


    Mitch glanced at the black box, eyes narrowing. ¡°What¡¯s in it?¡±


    She smiled, sharp and secretive. Mitch¡¯s pulse quickened, something magnetic drawing him toward her, a warmth spreading through his chest. ¡°You don¡¯t need to know, yet. Just that it¡¯s enough to keep their curiosity sated.¡±


    It¡¯s like my body has a mind of its own, separate from me. I know she¡¯s attractive, but this is something different.


    He reached for the box, but before he could grasp it, Mathilda¡¯s hand shot out, gripping his wrist lightly, yet with strength that startled him. His skin prickled under her touch. ¡°Before you leave,¡± she said, ¡°I have something for you. A token.¡±


    Mitch¡¯s eyes met hers, wariness creeping in. After years of torment in his previous life, he had pushed people away. He liked her, and felt a semblance of trust for what she¡¯d already done, but his hackles were still raised at the idea of another gift.


    Never trust those that are too giving.


    She let go of his wrist and opened a small drawer, producing a thin, silver key on a chain. Polished metal, shimmering like moonlight, and engraved with swirling patterns. She placed it in front of him.


    ¡°This key,¡± Mathilda said, her voice serious now, ¡°will open a door. One day, I hope you will find that door, and when you do, this will let you in.¡± Her eyes met his, unwavering. ¡°But you must promise me something.¡±


    ¡°What kind of promise?¡± He asked gruffly, uncertainty gnawing.


    ¡°A favor,¡± she said, leaning back in her plush chair, her eyes shining with intensity. ¡°When the time comes, I will call upon you, and you will answer. No questions asked.¡±


    Mitch stared at the key lying there, the weight of the deal pressing at him. He felt the pull of the unknown, same as the Abyss that ran through his veins. For some reason that he couldn¡¯t explain, he wanted to accept.


    Maybe it was his body¡¯s familiarity, maybe it was her Skills, maybe it was the clawing desperation he felt for some form of control over his circumstance.


    Nodding slowly, he picked up the key, turning it over in his bleeding fingertips. ¡°Alright,¡± he answered gruffly. ¡°I¡¯ll work with you. But don¡¯t mistake me for the last one, or anyone else. You might think you know me, but I¡¯m nothing like them. Push me, and you¡¯ll find out what happens when you corner someone with nothing to lose.¡±


    Mathilda¡¯s lips curved into a wicked, knowing smile, her eyes glinting with something that may have been respect or amusement. ¡°Come for me, will you?¡± she chuckled softly, a jolt to his core. ¡°Perhaps¡­ things will be different this time.¡±


    Her laughter was soft, but the weight of it lingered. Leaning forward, her marble-cracked fingers traced over the silver key before retracting, brushing his bloody, wrag-covered palm in some unspoken agreement.


    Quest: Open the Sealed Door


    Use the Key on the Door.


    Answer Mathilda¡¯s Call.


    Status: Incomplete


    Mitch¡¯s grip tightened on the small key before slipping it over his head and tucking it under his black t-shirt. Many questions remained, but he¡¯d be damned if he let the Abyss or anyone else fully dictate his fate. Even a seemingly concerned vampire.


    He picked up the black box, the weight of the chains heavier than expected. It took him another moment to place Crae¡¯s party favor in his pack.


    A final look at Mathilda, something deep within him took her in, melancholic for her touch. Turning to leave, he stopped at the door, a question stabbing at his mind. Without looking back, he asked in a rough voice, ¡°Whose soul is in my core?¡±


    Thick silence pressed. He thought she might ignore the question, but then Mathilda¡¯s measured and cool voice drifted through her shop.


    ¡°You¡¯ll find out soon enough,¡± she replied sadly. ¡°And when you do, Mitchell, I hope you¡¯ll carry the same resolve you do now.¡±


    Without answering, he pushed open her red door and stepped out into the oppressive cold of Shadowreach.


    Crae¡¯s Agency would be arriving at Club Mythos shortly. He needed to get moving.

 Chapter 4: First Collection

    Mitch was lost in thought, walking back to the club when the sound of cackles snapped him out of it. Looking over his shoulder, he spotted a handful of mutilated Grimmer forms quickly gaining. A pit grew in his stomach.


    I know that type of laugh. They¡¯re coming for me.


    ¡°Where¡¯d you go, pretty boy? Did she take your brain before or after your balls?¡± The same broken voice that had accosted him before Mathilda¡¯s had returned. Sighing, Mitch turned to face the group.


    He stood a head taller than the leader. Emaciated bodies huddled behind the gangly man, faces twisted in self-satisfied grimaces. Despite wearing ragged, filthy clothing, Mitch could smell the stench of Grimlace over the man¡¯s body odor.


    ¡°What do you want? I don¡¯t have any money for you,¡± Mitch grumbled.


    ¡°Hehe, we don¡¯t want just any old stinking Credits,¡± the leader smiled widely, revealing rotten, blackened teeth. His cronies giggled. Mitch¡¯s stomach fell deeper as he felt a tension build in his chest. The thin man pointed and the pressure increased sharply. Sweat beaded on his forehead. ¡°We only want the good stuff, even if the market is down.¡±


    Another Skill. What¡¯s that pressure against my chest?


    ¡°Dew it bawth,¡± one Grimmer slurred, his missing lip twisting his words. The group shuffled ahead in excitement. ¡°They¡¯th madesth you a Collector now. Dew it!¡±


    Oh, fuck me.


    The lead Grimmer, no¨Ca Collector¨Ccurled his finger and unfathomable pain exploded in Mitch¡¯s chest. He felt something rip out of him. White glowing tendrils flowed out from his chest and into the man¡¯s palm. The Soul cried out faintly as it left his core, its wails rising above Mitch¡¯s own scream.


    Burden Updated


    Burden: Pay the Abyssal Debt


    Status: Incomplete


    Active Debt: -1,000,666 -> -1,000,166


    Currency: Souls, Flesh, Credits


    Thank you for your payment. Visit a Collector to make another.


    Do you give up?


    Unimaginable pain overcame him, and he collapsed in a heap onto the street, tears streaking down his face. The howling laughter of the Grimmers filled his ears as the internal pain continued to climb.


    Dirty feet began to stomp him. He felt a rib crack, his grunt only increasing his attackers ferocity.


    Worse still, his mind began to betray him. It began to show him the life of someone else. Trying to shove the emotions that began to flood him into his Devoid Skill proved impossible.


    The happy memories of someone else''s life overtook his mind as he was forced to watch a life that wasn¡¯t his as he was kicked at and stomped by the gang.


    A father throwing his young daughter up in the air, giggles filling the small apartment they shared together. A fresh start. Flipping and handing her a crispy grilled cheese. Bigger now, a rainy view from the bleachers, watching her crush a lobbed baseball, the crowd cheering. The joy at her coming home after reading over unpaid bills. Clapping when she won her grade 8 Art award, and English to boot.


    Endless happy memories filled him with joy as the Grimmers continued their attack. The memories turned darker and came faster.


    Doctor¡¯s office, she was almost a woman now. Her ready smile trying to hide her fear. Watching her favorite childhood movie and eating pizza. The call. Tears, so many tears. Her defiant face at her first treatment. Bills unpaid, forgotten. Endless nights in the hospital. Holding her hand for the last time. Tears. Bottles everywhere. The rope in the bathroom. Begging that he¡¯d do anything to No One. Nothing. Unfurling a tattered note in a trash filled alley. Stumbling into Club Mythos.


    No. No, this isn¡¯t mine.


    A final, brutal kick to his temple knocked him back to the present. Even Grimlace fueled addicts grew tired eventually. They backed up, giggling and smacking eachother in victory, leaving him bloodied and raw on the ground.


    Mitch stared up at the starry sky. All he felt was rage. He took one deep breath, rib tweaking, and hoisted himself up to face the Grimmers.


    Fuck these people.


    Affliction Skill Upgraded


    Agony¡¯s Embrace


    Level 2(+1)


    Pain is power. Harness every drop of suffering, turning agony into unrelenting strength. Your torment permanently fortifies your body and amplifies your strength.


    Strength surged through him, feeding on his pain.


    ¡°Five hunnit credits for a Soul, phewie, the market really has turned.¡± the leader mocked him, panting from the beating he¡¯d just delivered. Rage continued to climb as Mitch measured the group.


    Rather than try to hide the emotion with his Skill, he decided to bring the fight to his opponents. For the first time in his existence.


    One must always go forward, she said. You want me to embrace the Abyss?


    Mitch leapt, his powerful body exploding forward towards the group. The lead Grimmer¡¯s reaction was far too slow to stop what was coming. Throwing a wild haymaker, Mitch¡¯s fist connected with blackened teeth. Instantly the addict Collector dropped at his feet. Knocked out. Mitch and the surrounding enemies stood in shock.


    Raising his fist, Mitch pulled out a tooth that had lodged itself in his knuckle. Another scar to add to his collection.


    Ah, that¡¯s how I got those.


    The remaining Grimmers bolted. Mitch grinned and took off after them, muscular legs propelling him forward far faster than he thought possible. The power surged through him, making his body feel lighter, quicker¨Clike a predator closing in on its prey. He grabbed a lagging one roughly by the shoulder, digging fingers deep into his flesh.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    I can get used to this strength.


    He howled in agony as Mitch yanked him back, his grip effortlessly tearing into his thin skin and muscle. Blood squirted as he spun him around. With newfound power flooding into his veins, he grabbed him by the waist and hoisted his entire body above his head in one fluid motion. His muscles flexed as he hurled the Grimmer with all his might toward the fleeing backs of the others.


    The impact sent the group scattering to the ground.


    Nice.


    One Grimmer escaped the chaos and bolted down an alley. Mitch walked slowly towards the fallen group, who were slowly picking themselves up. The largest two looked at him with panicked eyes as he delivered a full kick to the face of the thrown addict.


    He yelped as he was flipped onto his back. Mitch let the rage wash over him as he stood above the man and lifted his boot. He paused, the other addicts watching him in terrified silence. The man beneath him whimpered, hands outreached, trying to shield his face.


    This is it. Am I going all in?


    The Abyss pulsed through his heart, mingling with the rage roaring within him.


    Yes.


    His boot slammed down with a sickening crunch. The skull caved, blood and brain matter splattering the cobblestones.


    Mitch froze, guilt and triumph warring within him. Something had prodded him before the decision to stomp, pushing him over the edge.


    Did I just kill him because I wanted to? Or was it the Abyss pushing me?


    Before he could decide, pain lanced through his back as the fallen leader he had previously knocked out drove a knife into him. Mitch stumbled, blood leaking into his shirt.


    He whipped around, fury blazing. The remaining Grimlace addicts scattered, leaving their boss behind. Anger flowed into Mitch as he slowly walked towards the Collector.


    The gaunt man¡¯s face was still locked in a permanent grimace. His eyes bulged as if he were a trapped animal, waving a blood soaked blade at Mitch while backing up.


    ¡°Who made you a Collector?¡± Mitch¡¯s voice was ice.


    ¡°Not telling. They¡¯ll do worse than just kill me.¡± The Grimmer Collector sneered, backing up further.


    ¡°Then why work for them? Just for more Grimlace?¡± Mitch shifted, positioning himself so the addict¡¯s escape route ended at the brick wall.


    ¡°Heh, Grimlace digs in deep, pulls you down while making it feel damn good,¡± the addict chuckled as his back hit the wall. Instead of fear, his grimace stretched into a grotesque smile. ¡°Get deep enough, you¡¯re rewarded. Like me,¡± he tapped the blade against his chest.


    ¡°Made me a Collector. I can feel ''em in here,¡± he rasped through his laughter. ¡°Screaming, for where they¡¯re going.¡±


    The man¡¯s laugh started soft but quickly grew unhinged. Mitch stepped forward, disgusted. He slammed a fist into the Grimmer¡¯s face. Once. Hard. The addict barely flinched, his laughter swelling.


    ¡°Who do you Collect for? Where are you taking that Soul?¡± Mitch growled , striking again, harder.


    The Grimmer¡¯s laugh only deepened, bloody spit spraying from his broken mouth. Rage boiled in Mitch as he delivered yet another punch¨Ccrack¨Cthe man¡¯s cheekbone shattered as he toppled to the ground. The laughter grew louder.


    Mitch climbed on top of the writhing man, his fist crashing full force into his nose.The addict¡¯s head bounced off the cobblestones.


    ¡°They¡¯re coming with me, you fucking idiot.¡± The Grimmer wheezed, laughter choking into a bloody howl as Mitch continued to pummel his face.


    Rage boiled over, a burning need to stop this madness, to pull the souls back from whatever torment they were fated for. They were trapped within the body of the Collector.


    Trapped, just like me. But maybe not lost.


    He reached for his Abyssal Vault and his mind surged as he tried to pull them back. The Skill felt his call and answered, feeding off his desperation.


    Affliction Skill Upgraded


    Abyssal Vault


    Level 2


    Collect, Siphon, and store Souls, Flesh, and Credits within. A living account for your Abyssal Debt.


    Meet a Collector to transfer the sum.


    Settlement Amount: 0 Souls, 0 Credits, 0 Flesh


    It wasn¡¯t enough. He felt the souls trapped within the gurgling and giggling Grimmer beneath him as his fists continue to reign terror into the bloody mess of a face.


    He paused his beating, and pulled harder, muscles straining. But the souls stayed bound, clutched within the Grimmer¡¯s twisted body.


    Gurgling, the addict laughed weakly through his shattered teeth. ¡°You want ¡®em? Gonna have to pry ¡®em from my corpse.¡±


    Mitch¡¯s blood ran cold.


    ¡°If you say so.¡± His deep voice sounded hollow, even to his own ears.


    His body moved before his mind could catch up, bloodied fists tightening. With a roar, he delivered a massive punch. His knuckles met the Grimmer¡¯s face with a sickening crack.


    The laughter finally stopped.


    For a moment, everything was still. Then, Mitch felt it. The rush of cool energy surging towards his Abyssal Vault, drinking in what it craved.


    The addict¡¯s body began to wither, flesh twisting and shrinking, as his Skill swallowed not only his flesh, but the many souls the Collector had trapped inside him. Tendrils, white and black, surged from the crumpled body into Mitch¡¯s chest.


    Abyssal Vault


    Settlement Amount: 13(+13) Souls, 0 Credits, 1(+1) Flesh


    A flood of raw, dark energy hit Mitch like a rising wave. Each soul fed into his Abyssal Vault, not overwhelming, but strong enough to feel.


    Instead of the full chaos he expected, he felt most of them settle, thankful captives under his control. Some scratched and pounded, desperate for escape, but most felt almost relieved.


    A hole still remained on his back, and his knuckles were split. Yet, as the Souls and Flesh merged into his core, a subtle strength coursed through him. Muscles tightened, veins thrummed with new power. His flexed and a sense of renewed vigor radiated through him.


    They¡¯re not just currency¡­Why am I stronger from them?


    Mitch looked down at the husk that had been the Grimmer. His gaze flicked to the other he¡¯d killed earlier, lying a few feet away.


    Might as well, he thought grimly. No sense in letting it go to waste.


    His Abyssal Debt updated.


    Active Debt: -1,000,166 -> -1,000,666


    Do you give up?


    Fat fucking chance.


    He walked over and siphoned the small body of the brainless Grimmer.


    Settlement Amount: 13 Souls, 0 Credits, 2(+1) Flesh


    As his Abyssal Vault absorbed the flesh, he felt the increase, but noticed only a singular flesh had been added.


    His brow furrowed in confusion. That soul should have been there.


    Where do the Souls go if they¡¯re not collected?

 Chapter 5: Whats in the Box?

    The dark elvish woman in the previously empty frame winked at Mitch and continued her sensual dance to the beat of the gothic house music. The bass reverberated through the floor. She gyrated into the neighboring frame, where a man covered in featureless black armor silently stared out at the wild crowd. Most frames held someone or something, he wasn¡¯t sure what all of them were. They either partied behind thin glass or engaged in other adult physical activities.


    Mitch watched them curiously as he cleared the back table. The scent of spiced incense barely masked the stench of sweat and leather. He made sure to prick his finger with a broken glass, sending a small jolt of power through him.


    There must be a few hundred frames, and they all contain someone¡­Was she stabbed in the chest? Did I see that?


    ¡°Glasses! Need glasses! Mitch, grab a Nightswart Absinthe bottle from the cellar, now! The good one in the back!¡± Robin¡¯s high pitched voice screamed into his earpiece.


    Crae¡¯s Agency proved tough to push through. All members carried sinister weapons openly, and few were the polite type. Giant orcs wore bulky armor and drank dark liquor from the bottle. Elven members sported black leathers and knowing eyes. Mitch even spotted a shirtless zombie with a giant greatsword strapped to his back. The gray man¡¯s nod was the friendliest he received as Mitch salmoned his big body through the crowd.


    The tray of glasses he balanced above the crowd teetered as people drunkenly danced and partied around him. Working the busy buyout helped keep Mitch¡¯s mind off of everything, and he was happy to feel semi-normal while working his shift, even if the crowd was different.


    Pretty normal, minus the different races and friendly monsters. Too busy to think about the Souls and Flesh I¡¯m¡­uh¡­holding.


    ¡°Oy! Leave me damn bloody nipples alone, ye¡¯ stinking animal,¡± Hathgar¡¯s voice cut through the mayhem. Looking over, he spotted his short friend holding two giant ice blocks above his head while an aged cat-featured beastkin woman held his nipple between clawed fingers.


    ¡°Oh, Hathy, you know me, just playing,¡± the woman said while laughing, giving him a twist before releasing him. ¡°Here, have this.¡±


    ¡°Gah! Don¡¯t transfer me twenty Credits,¡± Hathgar turned and shuffled away, deeper into the crowd towards a table that held the requested ¡®food¡¯.


    Disgusting.


    Above the crowd, Mitch spotted a platter piled high with Boneclaw Slurry, a gelatinous stew that quivered unsettlingly from the bass. Bits of indeterminate meat floated alongside mushy bones. Round the slop were potato chips covered in green slime.


    A sour, metallic tang filled the air from the food, mingling with the pervasive scent of body odor, smoke, and alcohol. Mitch¡¯s stomach turned looking at it. Nixie had explained that it was meant to ¡®challenge¡¯ the senses.


    Or punish them¡­


    Thankfully, Hathgar had stowed simple grilled meat for them at their barback station in the back. Fighting and killing Grimlace addicts had made him surprisingly ravenous.


    ¡°That was a long time ago, Larya! Leave it!¡± Mitch grinned at Hathgar¡¯s insulted tone as he rounded the bar. Finally, he was able to drop his tray off with the barmaids.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± Nixie shot Mitch a smile as she began to help him load glasses into the washer. ¡°Need these. Fucking Craes drink like fish, specially that bitch,¡± she grumbled as she focussed on the task.


    Mitch was still in shock about her. He knew people like her existed from his body''s memories, but his mind was still playing catch up.


    He stole looks at the thick stitches that held her together. She was a thick bodied Patchling, knitted together from various human body parts, reanimated, and given a fresh life. All of Club Mythos¡¯s barmaidens were Robin¡¯s creations. For the most part, the girls loved him for it and were viciously loyal.


    He only makes women though. Bit creepy.


    ¡°Can¡¯t believe she would even show face here after screwing us over. She¡¯s a Scrapling alright. Something ain¡¯t right with all of them, I¡¯ll tell you that.¡± The slur cut sharply out of Nixie¡¯s threaded-on lips.


    ¡°Who? And you shouldn¡¯t use that word, Nix.¡± Mitch glanced from the bar, scanning the crowd for another Patchling. They were hard to pick out unless you could spot their stitches.


    ¡°One yellow eye. There,¡± Nixie nodded towards the cellar, where a small woman danced alone. Drink in hand, she swayed to the music in the small circle that surrounded her. ¡°Sable¡¯s off. Always was. It¡¯s what happens when too many different bodies are used.¡±


    ¡°Sable? Isn¡¯t she high up in Crae¡¯s? She¡¯s a Patchling?¡± He pretended to know. How a stitched together body managed to descend into the Depths to fight and loot was beyond him. He assumed they were fragile.


    ¡°Ditched us, and never looked back. Her own sisters,¡± she spat on the bar floor, shaking her head. ¡°Still need that Nightswart Absinthe, can you go grab it? They want it for their ¡®game¡¯.¡±


    Mitch pushed his way through the rough crowd to get to the cellar. He had yet to see Crae, as the man hadn¡¯t made his entrance yet. For how late it was in the evening, Mitch assumed that the man wouldn¡¯t show at all.


    From the inherited memories, Mitch knew that Crae¡¯s Agency was rich and apparently paid extremely well. Descending the Depths, trading with subterranean merchants, and clearing endless Abyssal Spawn surges was the main business. The magic and often cursed loot they plundered from the deeper Depths was just what they were most well known for.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Sable¡¯s eyes measured Mitch as he wedged through the last of the crowd. Standing in front of the doorway of the cellar, she looked immediately annoyed. Squaring up with the newcomer in her space, one yellow eye and one red eye took in his size before realizing he was just the club¡¯s barback. She relaxed and went back to dancing.


    Mitch struggled to not stare at the black thread covered by ringlets of blonde hair that cut diagonally on her neck.


    Without that, she might just be pretty.


    ¡°¡®Scuse me, just need to get a bottle from there.¡± He croaked in his service voice, embarrassed that he needed to get past her.


    ¡°Mind yourself, big man. Get away from her or I¡¯ll make you get away.¡± An orc in the circle grunted, eyeing him. Mitch met his eyes, and realized that the orc was the only one in the entire club that matched his size.


    ¡°Relax, Warrick. This one is just getting a bottle for us. Absinthe, yeah?¡± Her gravelly voice and casual tone surprised him. Flashing him a small smile, she moved out of the way so that he could pass. Mitch thanked her and approached the cellar door.


    A loud voice boomed out from waist height, ¡°Bit big for a bloody barback. The size of him. What in the depths has he been eating?¡± Glancing, Mitch saw the speaker was a dwarf, shorter than even Hathgar. The man¡¯s wild black beard covered most of the plate armor and face, but not the giant axe strapped to his back.


    Mitch crouched at the entrance of the cellar, reaching for the bottle of Nightswart Absinthe, his hands working on autopilot as his body knew exactly where to find it.


    Just as he started to stand, he realized the dwarf was still talking about him.


    ¡°Bit of a waste, innit? Someone that size running your bottles, Sable?¡± The dwarf¡¯s rough voice made it sound harsh. Mitch let the words roll off his back. If anything, he felt a strange pride at someone commenting on how large he was.


    That¡¯s right, I am massive.


    He straightened from the cellar, bottle of glowing Nightswart Absinthe in hand, the dwarf¡¯s words swelling him. His gaze flicked to Sable, who swayed to the beat. Her eyes assessed him with a slight smirk.


    ¡°Just because he¡¯s big, doesn¡¯t mean he can fight,¡± she said coolly, as if that settled the matter.


    Mitch clenched his jaw, keeping his expression neutral. A tension built inside of him. Fighting back wasn¡¯t something he had been great at in his old life¨Cbut he was different now. The Grimmers he¡¯d dealt with proved that. The Souls pulsed within him, dark, powerful, and waiting.


    Could I fight actual warriors? Can I really do what I think I have to?


    Those souls, they weren¡¯t just for collecting or currency. They were for something more. Granting him power and strength. He felt their battle cry thrum within him. Over the last few hours, the scratching souls that had previously wanted to escape had settled. As if they liked being within his core.


    The dwarf¡¯s voice cut through his thoughts. ¡°Heh, I¡¯d like to see him try. What¡¯s the point of being so bloody large if you¡¯re not going to use it, eh?¡±


    Warrick chuckled darkly from the side, sizing Mitch up with a sharp gaze. ¡°Aye. Urgar¡¯s got a point. What¡¯s the point of life if you ain¡¯t damn well fighting?¡±


    Mitch tensed but kept quiet, focussing on his breathing. The souls inside his vault stirred, feeling the beginnings of a confrontation.


    Hohoho, it is definitely more fun fighting when you¡¯re this big.


    Sable waved a hand dismissively, though her eyes lingered on Mitch for a moment longer than they should have. ¡°There¡¯ll be plenty of fighting soon enough, boys,¡± she said with a sly smile. ¡°Once everyone sees what¡¯s up for grabs, you¡¯ll get all the brawls you want.¡±


    Before Mitch could question what she meant, the atmosphere shifted. The dim lights flickered once, and a cold shiver slithered through the room. Robin had finally arrived.


    He didn¡¯t walk. He simply glided onto the dance floor, his form drifting effortlessly through the air. Robin flashed the crowd his easy too-wide smile that glowed, a gesture he knew would draw everyone¡¯s eyes. A handsome man in his mid-thirties with slicked-back black hair and mixed features. Wrapped in a shimmering blue suit, his figure blurred at the edges, as if his ghostly form couldn¡¯t anchor itself to reality. To his credit, he didn¡¯t need solid form to command the room. The house music pulsed in sync with his arrival.


    Robin was interesting enough to draw eyes. But what drew everyone¡¯s attention was the black box he carried in his hands. Thick silver chains wrapped around it. Despite having an ethereal form and hands, Robin held Mathilda¡¯s party favor forward for all to see.


    And then Mitch felt it. An invisible force swept through the club. There had been no notification, no build up. Robin had activated a Skill. The moment it surged through the room, everything sharpened. The air felt heavier, the lights brighter, and the sounds of the house music thumped within Mitch¡¯s body. Robin¡¯s Skill would open people up, turning up the dial of their emotions to the maximum.


    Oh, that¡¯s fun.


    The Souls within him stirred relentlessly, responding to the power within the air. Everyone watched as Robin tapped the chains, which unraveled themselves and clattered to the floor. Robin raised the black box above his head, relishing the anticipation in the room. Mitch¡¯s eyes were locked onto the box as well.


    Something in me craves what¡¯s inside.


    ¡°Now, now¡­¡± Robin¡¯s high-pitched voice cut through like silk. ¡°No need for any impatience, my friends.¡± With a flourish, he lifted the lid of the black box. The room tensed further.


    Then it shot out¨Csmall, black, fast as lightning. A one-eyed, dark entity, trailing smoke as it zipped through the crowd. It blurred in a streak of shadow. Its single glowing eye blinked as it suddenly stopped and hovered mid air, its body swirling with dark tendrils. The crowd gasped, awestruck.


    Robin¡¯s voice cut through the murmur. ¡°This,¡± he announced, his tone playing to the eager crowd, ¡°is one of the rarest specimens ever recovered from the Abyss. A Shadowshroud, still alive.¡± He floated above them, eyes gleaming in the ghostly light. ¡°Courtesy of Crae, and myself. One of the only Abyssal creatures that can be bound to anyone. A living, growing protector.¡±


    I want it. I need it.


    The room buzzed with excitement, but Mitch barely registered it. The Souls inside him screamed, clawing at his insides. Urging him forward. To fight for this floating creature.


    Robin¡¯s gaze flicked to Mitch, and for a split second, their eyes met. ¡°Only one of you walks away with it,¡± he said, almost laughing. ¡°Do ensure it is you.¡±


    Mitch¡¯s hands balled into fists, his chest tight with need. He wasn¡¯t sure why, but the pull was undeniable.


    I have to win this. Time to put this body to use.


    Sable strode forward onto the cleared dance floor to stand next to Robin. ¡°You know the rules,¡± she declared with authority, her one yellow eye glinting. ¡°One on one, until there¡¯s a victor. No weapons. No armor. No Active Skills,¡± she let the crowd hang in anticipation before shouting in her gravelly voice, ¡°Bear Pits!¡±


    The crowd erupted, cheering with excitement and bloodlust. Then they started chanting.


    ¡°Two men enter, one man leaves! Two men enter, one man leaves!¡±

 Chapter 6: Bear Pits

    ¡°Two men enter, one man leaves,¡± the crowd chanted as Layra, the beastkin woman with feline grace, faced off against the polite zombie man. ¡°Two men enter, one man leaves!¡± The chorus of voices reached a crescendo as the undead moved quicker than Mitch expected, wrapping himself around the cat woman¡¯s back like a clamp.


    She threw herself forward, twisting midair with the zombie still clinging on.They crashed onto the floor, her weight smashing him beneath. The crunch of the undead ribs made the crowd cheer. His arms loosed, and Layra slithered out, wrapping her own furry legs efficiently around the man¡¯s head.


    The zombie scrambled frantically, his rotting fingers clawing at her thighs. She seized one decaying arm and yanked back. Bone cracked and pushed through gray skin as she threw her hips upwards. The man screamed but didn¡¯t relent, scratching at her thick arm. Mitch watched her squeeze his head with all her might, but the undead didn¡¯t need to breathe.


    ¡°Enough!¡± Sable¡¯s voice cut through the chaos as she rushed onto the dancefloor, now a makeshift arena pit. ¡°Layra, you win. Let him go before he¡¯s done for good.¡±


    The cat woman gave his broken arm one final, savage pull, tearing more flesh from bone, before standing to cheers. She flicked her tail in satisfaction and joined the crowd.


    Hathgar used to see HER?!


    From the sidelines of the circle, Mitch watched with rapt attention. Now that the real fun had begun, his barbacking duties had slowed to a crawl.


    The fights had been quick and brutal. Most losers were knocked out, but Mitch had witnessed countless arm and ankle breaks, even a beheading by bare hands that ended with a gnome¡¯s rolling skull cackling like a madman as his accomplices struggled to stitch it back onto his body that kept running away.


    Now that the chaff had been handedly dealt with, the fights were ramping up. Only a few undefeated winners remained.


    Crae¡¯s Agency swigged from bottles and cheered the spectacle. Fighters opted for a sip of Nightswart Absinthe before their bouts, the glowing liquid fueling their ferocity. The prize¨Cthe Shadowshroud¨Chovered above. Dark tendrils flailed as it watched. Robin¡¯s skill elevated everyone¡¯s primal battle lust.


    Sable waited patiently for the chatter to die down. ¡°Warrick, you¡¯re up. Choose your opponent. Someone undefeated.¡±


    The crowd hushed as Warrick, the giant orc that hung around Sable, took a ground-shaking step into the circle. The orc stood confidently, green-skinned and almost seven feet tall. His bottom tusks were shined to a polish.


    His eyes, sharp and predatory, scanned the crowd. He lingered on Layra, but a grin split his face as his gaze landed on Mitch. Raising a muscled arm, he pointed straight at him with a bent finger.


    ¡°You,¡± Warrick growled, his voice rumbling like thunder. ¡°Time for the big barback to show us what he¡¯s made of.¡±


    Mitch¡¯s gut clenched in a mix of nervousness and excitement. He hesitated a moment, but before he could register anyone¡¯s reaction, he stepped forward. Laughter from Warrick''s challenge filled the club around him.


    They think it¡¯s funny?


    Anger rose in Mitch from their laughter. He was tired of being pushed around. Now, with a body like his, he wanted to test it out. Hathgar shouted behind him about something, but Mitch couldn¡¯t hear him above the ruckus. The Souls within him buzzed with dark anticipation and urged him forward.


    This is it. Time to see what I can really do.


    As Mitch stepped into the ring, the crowd¡¯s laughter shifted. Laughter morphed into a chant. ¡°Two men enter, one man leaves! Two men enter, one man leaves!¡±


    Over the noise, Hathgar¡¯s voice rose above in desperation. ¡°Mitch, you don¡¯t know how to fight!¡±


    So what?


    Warrick let out a guttural roar and charged. Mitch squared up, his heart pounding. For a split second, he caught Robin¡¯s wink from above. Then the orc was on him, barreling forward like a stinking freight train.


    Mitch braced, feet digging in, bones jarring as Warrick crashed full-force into in a tackle attempt. He twisted and slammed an elbow down onto Warrick¡¯s back. The orc barely flinched, but Mitch felt something ignite inside him. A spark kindling into a flame. This wasn¡¯t a stumbling Grimmer. This was a real fight.


    This is pretty fun.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Growing up, the only thing that allowed Mitch to keep pushing forward through all the abuse was the ability he had developed. He was able to think clearly while in dangerous situations, a result of dissociation to endure the pain and humiliation.


    They pushed off each other, circling warily. The Souls raged within him, feeding his movements. Warrick feigned a fist, then threw a sweeping kick at Mitch¡¯s head. He swerved and countered, slamming a fist into the orc¡¯s gut. Warrick took the hit and swung¨Ca vicious hook that Mitch dodged by a breath. The giant fist cut the air, inches from breaking his face.


    Instinct took over. Memories from his body surged through him, guiding his moves. He felt deadly as he delivered a left jab, then a right cross. Warrick and Mitch exchanged brutal hits, each landing heavily. Mitch snapped a kick to Warrick¡¯s ribs, connecting shin bone with tensed muscle. The orc stumbled back, shook himself like a bull, and lunged again with blazing eyes.


    Warrick swung wide. Mitch raised an arm to block, but the hidden cross came fast. It smashed into his shoulder. Pain flared, sharp and hot, but he pivoted, and slammed a knee into Warick¡¯s side. Something cracked. The orc barely grunted, countering with a front kick that sent Mitch flying back. His spine jolted against an unforgiving wall of flesh that circled him.


    The impact fueled him. Agony¡¯s Embrace pulsed within, his Skill feeding on the pain. Power coursed through his veins, his body hardening just a touch more with each blow.


    This is what I needed. Just the right tool to fight back.


    He felt the call of the instinctual, brutal battle. The Souls he harbored, his Skill, his desire to fight back¨Call of it urged him on, driving him to dominate. He¡¯d never felt this alive, save for the first time he was murdered. The memories of how to fight from his body melded with the rage of his own soul, making each strike more deliberate.


    Warrick loomed above him. Mitch was ready. He sprang forward, low and fast. His uppercut connected with Warrick¡¯s jaw, sending the orc reeling. He followed up with a relentless series of blows¨Cpunches, elbows, knees¨Ca seamless combo, delivered by his new body. Each strike was more brutal than the last, driving Warrick back.


    The crowd¡¯s roars became a distant hum. Mitch pressed the attack, fists flying with a speed and precision that stunned onlookers. He was a blur of rage and retribution. Every punch landed harder, especially when he felt a knuckle break. Warrick staggered, his green skin slick with sweat and black blood. Mitch could feel the Souls within him urge him on again, impatient.


    He threw a sharp elbow into the orc¡¯s temple as a finisher. The orc gasped in pain, stumbling but refusing to fall. Mitch¡¯s eyes narrowed. With a sweeping leg kick¨Cup and down in a question mark¨Chis boot slammed into Warrick¡¯s neck. The orc finally crumpled to the ground.


    The crowd erupted, but Mitch wasn¡¯t finished. He leapt onto him, raining blows onto the orcs blocky face. The world around him blurred, fading into the background as he continued his bone crushing punches.


    Think you¡¯re going to pick on me? Make fun of me?


    The Souls within him screamed, mixing with his own shouts, a symphony of violence and release.


    Suddenly, he felt himself yanked back, thrown off balance. A weight had slammed into him from the side. Mitch sprawled, blinking away the haze, and realized that Urgar, the black-bearded dwarf, had tackled him. The dwarf¡¯s laughter filled his ears as reality snapped back into focus.


    ¡°Alright, alright, big man. I take it back,¡± Urgar chuckled, hauling Mitch to his feet with surprising strength. ¡°Seems like ye¡¯ can fight after all.¡±


    Mitch steadied himself, chest heaving. His fists throbbed and screamed in protest, blood trickling from split knuckles. He looked down at Warrick¡¯s motionless form. The orc¡¯s chest rose and fell in shallow breaths. A bloody, broken mess on the floor.


    The crowd was roaring, but Mitch could barely hear them. His own pulse hammered in his ears, and the Souls within him vibrated with dark energy.


    Bit too much. Shit.


    Hathgar stared at him from across the circle, wide-eyed, like he¡¯d just seen a ghost. Mitch¡¯s gaze found Robin hovering above, clapping his ghostly hands with a mischievous grin.


    ¡°Well done!¡± Robin shouted over the crowd. ¡°Our barback, just full of surprises!¡±


    Layra stepped forward into the arena, tail flicking with excitement. Her eyes locked onto Mitch, a predatory hunger gleaming.


    ¡°My turn,¡± she purred, pointing to her next opponent. ¡°Let¡¯s keep this party going.¡±


    Before Layra could take another step, Sable strode forward. The crowd''s clamor hushed instantly as she placed a firm hand on Mitch¡¯s shoulder. Her multi-colored eyes inspected him. The split knuckles, the blood smeared across his skin. A crease formed between her brows, a flicker of concern that vanished as quickly as it appeared. She pulled the bottle from her side.


    Uncorking the glowing Nightswart Absinthe, she held it out to him. ¡°Take a swig,¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯ll need it.¡±


    Mitch took the bottle, his fingers brushing against hers.


    Warm.


    He was surprised by the heat of her touch. Despite her Patchling nature, her skin felt human. Alive and real.


    He hesitated a moment, meeting her gaze. Then, tipping it backwards, he swallowed a deep mouthful. It burned all the way down. Sloshing heat settled in his stomach, then a fiery warmth spread through his veins.


    Nightswart Absinthe. Liquid battlelust, as they call it.


    His blood felt like it was boiling, his muscles surging. Every sense sharpened further. The roar of the crowd, the scent of flesh and musk.


    He turned back to the circle, eyes locking onto Layra. Her predatory gaze made his heart pound. The fear that flickered earlier was gone, consumed by the Absinthe¡¯s potent effects. A grin spread across his face. Whatever came next, he was ready for it.


    The crowd began to chant once more. ¡°Two men enter, one man leaves! Two men enter, one man leaves!¡±


    Layra¡¯s muscles coiled. In a flash, she launched herself at him, a blur of fur and claws.


    Without realizing it, Mitch had begun to feel more comfortable in the body he inhabited.

 Chapter 7: New Friends

    Mitch grunted at his bleeding shoulder but swung a brutal hook, smashing into Layra¡¯s nose with his torn fist. She yowled as blood streamed down her face. The crowd¡¯s roar was a distant echo; all that mattered was the fierce dance of the fight between them. So far, their fight had lasted much longer. They had traded hard blows and countless slashes. Mitch finally noticed her ferocity faltering.


    Layra¡¯s tail lashed angrily as she circled him. Desperation fueled her attacks, but she pressed on. Mitch delivered a swift kick to her ribs; she retaliated with a wild swipe, her claws digging deep into his side.


    He lurched back, clutching his side where Layra¡¯s claws had torn through flesh. Blood leaked from the deep gashes, seeping between his fingers. Mitch grinned through the pain. Layra kept her distance from him with a broken nose, and one eye swollen shut. The crowd roared as they took in the mess he¡¯d made of her and the raw wounds slashed across his body.


    Affliction Skill Upgraded


    Agony¡¯s Embrace


    Level 3(+1)


    Pain is power. Harness every drop of suffering, turning agony into unrelenting strength. Your torment permanently fortifies your body and amplifies your strength.


    + Consume Souls or Flesh to heal your Body


    He felt the Absinthe blaze through him. Wicked power surging as the upgrade hit. His muscles flexed harder, drawing strength from the agony. The open wounds pulsed in rhythm with his hammering heart as they leaked, but he held back, remembering the rules. No active Skills allowed in the pit.


    Actually disgusting, but very useful. Just need to finish this psycho.


    Layra hesitated, her stance shifting as she eyed him. He could see the doubt flicker in her gaze. She darted forward, claws swiping wide. But he was ready. Her swing met air as he dodged and countered, driving a brutal fist into her ribs, followed up with a knee. She doubled over, gasping, and stumbled back.


    The crowd¡¯s cheers pounded in his ears. Mitch tensed, ready to surge forward to finish Layra off with a crushing blow. He loaded his fist, ready to break her face apart.


    She raised a trembling hand, signaling him to stop. After ten long minutes, she had finally given up. He froze, heart still thundering in his chest, knuckles itching to land another blow. Her eyes held a flicker of fear, and he realized he¡¯d been ready to tear her apart.


    Mitch took a shaky step back. The battle-lust from the Absinthe simmered, no longer boiling within. Layra lowered her hand, breathing hard, tail wrapping around her legs as she slumped to her knees.


    Sable entered the ring, eyes calculating and stride precise. She looked at Mitch with an appraising glint, as if she was sizing up a new tool. The crowd cheered, but her attention never wavered from him. He felt her assessing, her cold gaze measuring his potential for whatever plans she had in mind.


    Sable¡¯s raised voice cut off the noise. ¡°Does anyone else want to challenge him?¡±


    The roar of approval rose, but no one moved. One by one they looked away, avoiding his gaze. Only Hathgar¡¯s eyes locked onto his. There was something strange in his friend¡¯s expression. As if he were seeing Mitch for the first time, bewilderment mixed with a touch of fear.


    That¡¯s how I looked at people I was afraid of¡­


    Sable smirked at him. In that moment, Mitch felt the weight of his own power, and the unsettling realization of what he¡¯d almost done. He¡¯d been ready to kill her. To let the rage consume him completely.


    He shook himself, trying to chase away the chill running down the spine alongside the warm blood of his open wounds.


    Sable¡¯s voice pierced through the tension. ¡°No one else wants to step up?¡± She glanced around at the crowd, but none stepped up. ¡°Then the Shadowshroud is yours, Mitch.¡± Her words cut through the air, igniting the crowd anew. The souls within him trashed in celebration.


    The one-eyed Shadowshroud hovered above. Shadows curled from its whirling tentacles like smoke, tasting the air around it. Sable held up a hand, silencing the crowd. ¡°However,¡± she continued, her yellow eye gleaming, ¡°you can only claim it if you¡¯re willing to join Crae¡¯s Agency. Those are the rules. We do not provide rewards to outsiders.¡± The challenge hung heavily in the air.


    Mitch¡¯s gaze lifted to Robin, who hovered above. Robin gave a quick nod and a wink, signaling his approval.


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    Mitch exhaled, steadying himself. The Souls in his core reached toward the Shadowshroud, raw desire pushing him forward. He couldn¡¯t back down now. Their push, along with his own desire, helped him along.


    Peeling off his torn barback shirt, Mitch tossed it aside. His scarred chest heaved and was smeared with blood from Layra¡¯s attacks. Every cut throbbed as his breath calmed.


    Always forward, and never around, right Mathilda?


    Mitch reached into himself, calling on his new addition from Agony¡¯s Embrace. The Skill flared to life, and Mitch felt its morbid capability.


    It was an easy thing to pull flesh from his Abyssal Vault.


    He drew the flesh within his core out and then across his wounds. Fresh scars were added to his already covered body. As his flesh knit together, he felt a deep, hollow tug at his soul.


    The payment was made in someone else¡¯s flesh. Flesh consumed for his strength. It left a rotten taste in his mouth, a reminder that he¡¯d taken something that once belonged to another.


    Yes, the flesh he used to heal himself had been from Grimmers trying to torture him and abuse him, but that hardly made a difference in his mind.


    Settlement Amount: 13 Souls, 0 Credits, 0(-2) Flesh


    This is just one more scar. I need to be stronger than this if I¡¯m going to make it. Push past it.


    The crowd had fallen silent, staring at him with wide eyes as Mitch realized everyone was staring at him. A murmur of disbelief swept through the space. The zombie man that had lost to Layra waved his torn, rotting arm about, cackling with laughter.


    ¡°How nice would that be, eh?¡± the zombie man exclaimed as he gestured with his flopping arm at Mitch¡¯s healed but scarred body.


    Mitch glanced at Sable, a frown tugging at his brow. ¡°Is healing that rare?¡± he asked casually, his tone trying to mask his curiosity.


    Sable¡¯s eyes weighed him. ¡°Almost unheard of. You don¡¯t see it often, if ever,¡± she replied, leaning in to guard her question. ¡°What exactly are you using to heal? There is always a very heavy cost, and I didn¡¯t sense anything.¡±


    Mitch didn¡¯t answer. He only met her gaze with a hard stare, unwilling to reveal his secrets. Unease wormed over her face, but she seemed to let it go, simply nodding once as if filing the information away.


    ¡°Not my business, anyways.¡± she said with finality, gesturing to the writhing monster floating above.


    The murmurs continued as people spoke in low tones, and Mitch felt suddenly like a specimen being watched. If healing was that rare, he must ensure he guarded his secret.


    If they knew what I was using to heal, would they still be amazed?


    Crae¡¯s was known in Shadowreach to have a marked hatred of Abyssal magic. They despised it so much, killing Abyssal monsters and looting the Depths was their main business.


    Yes. Yes they would. Alright, that secret is staying with me.


    Mitch extended a hand toward the Shadowshroud, brushing his fingers against its tendrils. They twisted and coiled around him, binding to his skin.


    Slowly at first, then all at once, the Shadowshroud molded to his frame, forming a tight, black shirt that felt like part of him. There was a hunger there, radiating from it. Latent power waited to be fed with flesh. Mitch felt it tickling the back of his mind, growling like a hungry animal.


    Uhh¡­I can hear this thing in my mind. Can it hear me?


    The Shadowshroud grumbled back, acknowledging his question. It slotted against his mind like an old pitbull. Friendly to him, but spiteful to others.


    Yes. Definitely can hear my thoughts.


    Before he could fully take on the significance of what he¡¯d taken on, a heavy hand clapped him on the back. Mitch staggered under the weight but stayed upright. Turning, he looked down on Urgar¡¯s toothless smile and unashamedly dirty black beard.


    ¡°Welcome to the club, lad!¡± Urgar said, laugh booming out, bouncing off the walls of the club. ¡°Didn¡¯t think you had it in you. Guess we was wrong. A real bloody fighter. Handsome too! Not as handsome as me, but¡­¡± The dwarf winked at him.


    Mitch grunted and smiled in response. There was a sense of camaraderie in the dwarf¡¯s tone, which instantly disarmed him.


    Sable watched him closely. ¡°Meet me at the Agency hall tomorrow,¡± she said, with no room for argument in her voice. ¡°You¡¯ll meet Crae. You¡¯ve got potential. We¡¯ll make sure it isn¡¯t wasted.¡±


    Robin hovered above, clapping his hands with a grin that sent another chill down Mitch¡¯s back. ¡°Just full of surprises, as I always said.¡±


    The crowd surged around him, cheering and celebrating his victory. But Mitch felt distant, separated from the revelry. Searching the crowd, he looked for a familiar face amongst the chaos of everything. But Hathgar was nowhere to be found.


    The realization left a hollow ache in his chest.


    Did I cross a line tonight? He looked scared of me¡­Does he know?


    The Shadowshroud clung to him, alive and pulsing, and the Souls within him relaxed, sated and calm. His old life seemed so distant now. It had been but a day, and he already felt like a completely different person. The body that was now his made him feel powerful, but it was still settling within him that he wasn¡¯t a spindly, ugly guy with no family.


    Under the glow of the club lights, Mitch felt the pull of something darker. A force he wasn¡¯t sure he could resist. The weight of his choices pressed down on him, the Shadowshroud pulsing against his skin, and the Souls within him throbbing with a new hunger.


    He wasn¡¯t just a survivor anymore; he was becoming something else. Something that both terrified and thrilled him. Amid it all, all he wanted was to hear Hathgar¡¯s friendly voice again.

 Chapter 8: Parting Words

    Mitch wandered through the narrow alleys of the Dwarven District, the night with Crae¡¯s Agency still buzzing through him. Here, the usual grime of Shadowreach kept away. The floating candles moved cautiously together high above. No Grimmers dared to prowl the streets, as dwarves held their ground, and any fool who brought trouble found themselves swiftly dealt with.


    The Dwarven District was one of the few corners left in the city where they held sway as a race. Stout stone buildings pressed together, standing together as a testament to their refusal to bend. Smoke, laughter, and the unmistakable scent of strong ale filled the air. Yet even with the high population of boisterous dwarves, the cold tendrils of Shadowreach¡¯s atmosphere still managed to hang, pressing the dwarves into their warm, cramped bars.


    Mitch¡¯s brushing memories tugged him forward, drawing him to the bar he and Hathgar often favored: The Broken Pickaxe. It was their spot to drink together for years, Mitch¡¯s memories told him. A place where dwarves laughed and drank as if the walls weren¡¯t slowly crumbling around them.


    He stepped inside, stooping through the low door. The familiar scent of sour ale and roasting meat immediately hit him. The room was dim, the low ceiling painted yellow with years of smoke, while rough-tables bore the marks of countless scuffles and games. Dwarves sat together, drinking and playing their favored game, Stakes. The clatter of the game¡¯s tokens being shuffled mingled with the chatter.


    In the back corner, Mitch spotted Hathgar, slouched over a small personal keg with a tankard in hand, alone at a table. He started to make his way over, careful not to knock over any dwarves. Roasted suckling pig was the fare, and Mitch¡¯s stomach grumbled from the scent.


    Walking through the small tavern, he spared a glance at the only other non-dwarf in the space. A half-orc sat alone, engrossed in filling out a worn notebook. The half-orc¡¯s red ring caught Mitch¡¯s eye for just a second before he passed by on his way to Hathgar. The man paid him no mind, fully engrossed in his task. The Souls within him recoiled from the man as he passed.


    Hmm¡­


    Reaching the table, Hathgar glanced up with a scowl that softened quickly. ¡°Took ye¡¯ long enough,¡± he muttered, gesturing for Mitch to sit.


    Mitch settled onto the bench across from Hathgar, his grin a touch too wide. ¡°You didn¡¯t wait for me? Losing your manners. Had me clean the entire club after by myself. That slop they ate? Actually tasted pretty good,¡± he teased, leaning back as if it were back to simpler times.


    Hathgar scoffed, but his eyes held a glint of the old friendly humor and alcohol. ¡°Manners? Ye¡¯ know me better ¡®en that, lad. Figured ye¡¯d catch up on yer own time.¡± The dwarf eyed the Shadowshroud clinging to Mitch¡¯s frame, his face hardening. ¡°Got that shadow thing hanging on ye now, eh? That¡¯ll pull ye in faster than anything else.¡±


    Mitch glanced down at the barely visible black tendrils curling around his shirt. It appeared to be a simple black t-shirt to the untrained eye, and unease filled Mitch as he wondered if other¡¯s noticed.


    How do I take this thing off? Can I take it off?


    It seemed dormant, but he could feel its weight in his mind, waiting to be fed. ¡°Can¡¯t be a barback forever, Hathgar. Getting nowhere cleaning tables and running errands for Robin. Plus, this Shadowshroud, it¡¯s not a big deal,¡± he replied, attempting confidence.


    ¡°Aye, that¡¯s what they all say,¡± Hathgar muttered, shaking his head and bushy beard as he took a deep swig from his oversized wooden tankard. He looked Mitch over, his gaze sharp. ¡°Ye should be right careful, Mitch. Powers like that? Abyssal born ones? Bah,¡± Hathgar pointed with his chunky short finger at the twisting black shirt. ¡°Bad news. Dwarves don¡¯t go right messing with soul magic no more. Not if they got any sense. We¡¯ve been trying to rid ourselves of it for years now. Even banned it outright in Stonehollow.¡±


    Mitch chuckled, trying to lighten his mood. ¡°Soul magic? You make it sound like I¡¯ve got a full demon strapped to me.¡±


    Hathgar didn¡¯t laugh. ¡°Don¡¯t need an army to do the damage a good soul weapon can, ye¡¯ know that. Ye¡¯ve heard the stories. It¡¯s no weapon, but it sure is soul magic.¡± Another deep swig from the tankard, Hathgar poured himself another cup out of the keg on the table, and then one for Mitch. He took a deep drink, savoring the cold, sour ale.


    The dwarf continued as Mitch consumed his cup in deep gulps. ¡°Dwarves like me, we¡¯re done with that nasty business.¡± Hathgar downed his glass, wiping his bushy red beard with the back of his hand. ¡°I¡¯m leaving Shadowreach. Too much Abyss and soul magic here for my liking. Almost more¡¯n there was back when the Masked Lord tried topplin¡¯ the Abyss. Ain¡¯t bloody possible to beat the Abyss. How ye''re supposed to kill hell itself?¡±


    Mitch straightened, surprise flickering across his face.


    Masked Lord? Toppling the Abyss? What happened to the Masked Lord?


    ¡°You¡¯re leaving?¡± Mitch asked Hathgar sadly. His one friend in the city. Someone his body told him he could trust, was going. It still stung brutally. In the short while he had known the dwarf, he could see why his body considered him a true friend.


    ¡°Aye. Stonehollow¡¯s calling me back. Have been for a while now,¡± Hathgar leaned in, his voice a low slurring rumble over the clatter of the tavern. ¡°Locking it back down soon. Hasn¡¯t been done since that damned Masked Lord lost a hundred years ago or so. Foul mess, that.¡±


    Mitch¡¯s heart hammered from Hathgar¡¯s words. This was new information, and an opportunity to understand the world around him. Hathgar¡¯s slurred words let him know his friend was already drunk. Mitch felt momentarily bad about tricking his friend, but pushed forward.


    I¡¯m sorry, Hathgar. I need to wear the mask for now.


    ¡°The Masked Lord hit Stonehollow? I didn¡¯t know that,¡± Mitch asked, feigning knowledge and leaning forward to match Hathgar¡¯s energy. Reaching, he scooped up his own wooden tankard next to their shared small keg, and poured himself another cup of ale. The amber liquor was crisp, sour, and satisfying in his empty stomach.


    Hathgar looked incredulously back at Mitch, waving his hand emphatically. ¡°Hit Stonehollow? No boy, I swear you city folk know nothing,¡± the dwarf took a deep gulp, finishing his own drink, refilling it before continuing.


    ¡°The Masked Lord came to our rescue. People get the damned story wrong all the time, that¡¯s how far the Abyss has infected it all,¡± another deep swallow, Hathgar¡¯s body growing more animated and his face flushed from his drunkenness.


    ¡°Side by side, he and my father and all my clan fought back the damned horde from the Abyss,¡± Hathar pounded his fist onto his chest, spilling ale onto the table. ¡°Killed so many cursed Abyssal Spawn, it raised my family to a real force in Stonehollow,¡± a proud glint filled Hathgar¡¯s eyes as he spoke about his father.


    Mitch felt the worm of envy begin to crawl in him at the pride his friend displayed about his parent. The deep swallow of ale helped, but not by much.


    ¡°Led the dwarves to fight them back and helped seal Stonehollow tight, can ye¡¯ believe that? Helped dwarves seal up the stone at the base of Stonehollow? Dwarves needing help with stone?¡± Hathgar laughed at the idea as he finished another cup. The dwarf snatched Mitch¡¯s empty tankard, and filled it up first, handing it back before attending to his own.


    This drunk, and he¡¯s filling my cup before his. While I¡¯m sitting here lying to his face about who I am.


    Mitch felt terrible about what he was doing. He tried to do right by people. Yet here he was, pulling information out of someone who trusted him.


    ¡°Then why do you need to go back? If Stonehollow is secure¡­what¡¯s going on?¡± Mitch pried, drinking his fill of the ale. Thankfully, the dwarves around them were engrossed in their own drinks and stories, and didn¡¯t seem to be listening.


    ¡°Aye, well that¡¯s the thing, ain¡¯t it?¡± Hathgar swayed in his chair and pointed at Mitch. ¡°Powerful as he was, the Masked Lord and his army lost. Killed by the Abyss in the end,¡± the dwarf sucked his teeth. ¡°He destroyed a lot of ¡®em, that¡¯s for sure. But not all of ¡®em. It¡¯s still here, ain¡¯t it? You see it everywhere. Look at your damned shirt.¡±Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    Mitch¡¯s mind whirled. The Masked Lord had tried to eradicate the Abyss. Hell itself, that broke through earth and cast its minions forth. It seemed an impossible task, but the memories that floated to him at Hathgar¡¯s story seemed to confirm it. What Hathgar told him was true.


    Why am I in debt to the Abyss then? What does this body have to do with it?


    ¡°If he lost, then why aren¡¯t the Abyss and its monsters here? Above ground and everywhere?¡± Mitch asked, his knuckles white from the vice grip around the empty tankard. He hadn¡¯t even remembered downing the cup.


    Good ale.


    The Abyss had called him, or had it? When it probed him to stomp the Grimmer¡¯s head in, when he had been fighting Layra and wanted to kill her. He was tied to it, by his debt, and clearly by his power.


    Twisted claws from below hooked into his very being.


    Was that the Abyss? Or was that me? Am I turning into a monster just because I¡¯m powerful now?


    ¡°Just because ye¡¯ cut out an infection, doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s gone, does it? Not if ye¡¯ don¡¯t get the root.¡± Hathgar mused, nodding at Mitch. ¡°Aye, it was many a good year when the Abyss wasn¡¯t reaching. Now? Look around, man.¡± The dwarf paused, staring into his drink. ¡°Things have only gotten worse since he lost. Abyss stretching too far, again. Bad days are comin¡¯, I reckon.¡±


    Mitch absorbed the weight of Hathgar¡¯s words. Anger rose within him from the situation he had been forced into. For his friend leaving him. Anger that felt a part of him, but much deeper and more brutal than he was accustomed to. This was his body¡¯s doing. He pushed it into his Devoid box, feeling the building wrath subside. ¡°So¡­you¡¯re heading back out of fear? For a hole to hide in? Back to your family?¡±


    Hathgar snorted. ¡°Hide? No. To live. Stonehollow¡¯s different than those other dwarven holdouts. She ain¡¯t underground. Carved out of a damned iron filled mountain. It¡¯s one of the last damn places where we live without worryin¡¯ what¡¯s going to creep in from the dark,¡± his eyes glinted as he thought of his home. ¡°Gorgeous place, warm too. Even though it¡¯s all stone and steel, we always made sure to keep it warm,¡± the dwarf looked up at Mitch and smiled pridefully.


    ¡°Wish ye would visit, lad. Couldn¡¯t wear that blasted thing, but, I think ye¡¯d like it just fine. Beautiful plump ladies, cold ale, steel, and meat. That¡¯s what I want. That¡¯s what I need.¡±


    Mitch was taken aback. Hathgar had completely missed Mitch¡¯s anger, focussed only on the comfort of a safe home and simple pleasures. Envy rose again, and Mitch forced as much of the dark emotion into Devoid as he could.


    He doesn¡¯t mean anything bad by it. He just can¡¯t live surrounded by hell. Still invited me to his home.


    As far as his half memories of their friendship went, Hathgar hadn¡¯t invited him to Stonehollow once. He poured himself another beer from the keg, the liquor¡¯s warmth spreading throughout him. Regardless of his emotions, Mitch knew he needed to be better than a petulant child. If that¡¯s what his friend wanted, then he should be all the more happy for him.


    ¡°Thought dwarves don¡¯t let in outsiders?¡± Mitch asked, trying to keep his voice curious and not bitter.


    ¡°Aye, no outsiders,¡± Hathgar said, a grin breaking his red face under his wild, fiery beard. ¡°Me n¡¯ you though? You ain¡¯t no outsider, Mitch. We both know at this point we¡¯re brothers.¡± The dwarf''s heavy hand clapped Mitch¡¯s scar covered shoulder.


    Instantly Hathgar¡¯s face changed, friendliness switching to disgust as he yanked his hand back from the Shadowshroud that he wore.


    Mitch was forced to watch as his friend spit on his hand and wipe it on the floor to cleanse himself. It made him feel filthy. If his friend didn¡¯t want to touch Abyssal objects, what would others think?


    Did I make the wrong choice?


    ¡°Don¡¯t think nothing of it. Just don¡¯t like to touch nothing Abyssal born. Bad luck, me ¡®ma says,¡± Hathgar sucked his teeth, before he leaned back, measuring Mitch with a stare. ¡°I got something for ye¡¯. If yer going to be working with Crae¡¯s, ye¡¯ should have it. Supposed to sell or get rid of the bloody thing, anyways. Whole no soul magic thing, and all that.¡±


    Hathgar leaned down, swaying but keeping his balance, and pulled a battered case from under the table. The wood was scuffed and ancient, but the expertly crafted hinges gleamed. Hathgar hefted it onto their table, and pushed it towards him. Mitch felt the power humming within. His Shadowshroud, and the Souls within him pulled towards the case.


    ¡°One of the last ones, that.¡± Hathgar said as Mitch opened the case. The hinges didn¡¯t creak at all. Obviously dwarven crafted, Mitch¡¯s memories told him.


    He opened the case, staring at the dark metal sword within. A brutal weapon, two handed, heavy and serrated. It pulsed faintly in the light. The Souls within him stirred, reaching for it on their own.


    ¡°One of the last Soul Weapons my clan had,¡± Hathgar¡¯s eyes softened. ¡°Take it. A gift, if ye¡¯d call it that. Can¡¯t have a friend without proper dwarven steel. I also can¡¯t keep the damned thing.¡± The sword called out to Mitch, its intricate black metal humming faintly.


    ¡°But know what yer holdin¡¯. That sword¡¯s seen more death than I care to think on. And it ain¡¯t just metal¨Cit¡¯s built for a soul. One of the last from the Masked Lord¡¯s rebellion. When he fell, well, this here was one of the few things we recovered from his army.¡±


    Mitch gripped the hilt, feeling its cold weight. The sword felt empty. A hollow vessel waiting to be filled. As if on cue, the Souls within him stirred, sensing the vacancy and jostling for a chance to latch themselves into the metal. Mitch could feel them stretching, clamoring to occupy the large blade.


    But Mitch held them back, flaring his Abyssal Vault and tightening his grip. Something in him recoiled at the thought of letting just a regular Soul into the weapon, even though it felt like the sword was meant for this. For now, he kept it as it was. A silent, heavy presence by his side.


    ¡°Thank you, Hathgar.¡± Mitch gave him a small smile, but his mind was already elsewhere. Mitch knew he shouldn¡¯t be thinking of power right now, but he couldn¡¯t help himself.


    Like everyone always does, Mitch found himself thinking about his own standing. No one escaped it¨Cthe constant calculation of how to turn every tool, every drop of power, to their own advantage.


    Are there Souls that are more powerful than others?...


    ¡°Be careful with it,¡± Hathgar warned. ¡°And remember, soul magic¡¯s a path ye can¡¯t take back. Once ye start, there¡¯s no going back. If yer goin¡¯ to the Abyss with Crae¡¯s Agency, be ready. Yer a good lad. Don¡¯t let this city make ye¡¯ forget that.¡±


    I had to do Soul Magic. I didn¡¯t have any choice.


    Ice ran through Mitch¡¯s veins as he nodded. ¡°I won¡¯t,¡± he replied, more to himself than to his friend. ¡°It¡¯s¡­a lot, you know? Being here, doing this. I can¡¯t turn back now. There¡¯s something calling me forward, even if I don¡¯t fully understand it.¡±


    Again, he tightened his grip on the soul sword, as if he could draw strength from an empty vessel. ¡°I don¡¯t know what this place is turning me into, but I¡¯ll make sure I stay true. I¡¯ll do what needs doing, Hathgar, but I won¡¯t forget who I am. Or what you¡¯ve done for me.¡±


    They sat in silence. The weight of Hathgar¡¯s words and story was heavy between them. Mitch forced a grin, raising his drink. ¡°Enough of the heavy talk,¡± he said, clinking his cup against Hathgar¡¯s. ¡°One more drink, like the old days.¡± The words felt hollow to Mitch as he said them. Memories that weren¡¯t his making him crave their old camaraderie.


    Hathgar chuckled, the sound rough and deep. ¡°Aye, yer right. One more round, then I¡¯m off.¡±


    Mitch listened to Hathgar¡¯s stories of famous dwarves, busty ladies, and battles won. Their conversation eased back into the familiar banter of old times.


    I need memories of my own.


    But he could sense Hathgar¡¯s restlessness, a subtle impatience as he cast a glance around the bar. With the keg almost dry, Hathgar leaned back and sighed. ¡°Aye, lad, it¡¯s time. Stonehollow calls, and I can¡¯t keep her waiting any longer.¡±


    Mitch nodded, gripping the soul sword at his side. ¡°Take care of yourself, Hathgar.¡±


    Hathgar went to clap him on the shoulder, but stopped himself to avoid touching the Shadowshroud. Instead, he gave Mitch a wry grin. ¡°This one¡¯s on you, lad.¡± With that, he stood, gave Mitch a final nod, and tramped out of the door.


    Mitch watched Hathgar go, an empty feeling settling in his chest, regardless of the souls that mingled within him. Even though Mitch was new to this world, his body, bound to distant memories, recognized Hathgar as a shining light in the darkness of Shadowreach. He hadn¡¯t known Hathgar long, but he already knew he¡¯d miss him. There was a simple truth in the dwarf¡¯s presence, something solid in a world that felt anything but.


    The notification from his debt slapped him right back to his reality.


    Credits


    Debts: -1,000,666* -> -1,001,332*


    Assets: 127 Credits, 0 Souls*, 0 Flesh*


    Interest: -666/day


    Cashflow: 100/day (Barback Salary)


    Guess it¡¯s tomorrow. Really? I only had like twelve hours of the first day.


    After transferring credits to the grouchy dwarf behind the bar, Mitch glanced back toward the spot where the half-orc had been sitting, hunched over his notebook. But the man was gone. Just an empty seat, the red ring no longer glinting in the dim light. Mitch frowned. Something about the man had rubbed him the wrong way, and now the Souls within him bristled, their hackles raised, as if sensing a predator.


    Weird. Hmm¡­


    He turned and stepped into the chill of the Dwarven District. The weight of the empty blade at his side felt right, comfortable even. There was something about its hollow presence that clicked with him, like it was meant to be that way for now.


    He glanced over his shoulder once more, the unease lingering.


    Hope Hathgar makes it home alright.


    In the quiet night, Mitch kept his own company, the souls and the silent sword beside him.

 Chapter 9: Welcome, Now Go Delve

    As it turned out, Mitch discovered that he could remove the Shadowshroud, but it would kill the creature. The knowledge had been transmitted directly into his mind, a low, rumbling growl of warning that translated to understanding from the Shadowshroud during his cold shower that morning.


    Rather than clinging to him like a second skin, the Shadowshroud had shuddered from the water. It coiled itself up his back and shifted from the spray, as if terrified of being cleansed. Now, it rested against his body, reshaping itself into a form that resembled a simple black shirt, but with a subtle, living presence. Mitch felt it waiting and watching.


    Mitch adjusted the soul sword strapped across his back. It was a heavy presence that people steered clear of as he weaved through the heart of Shadowreach. The conversation with Robin lingered, offering him a place to stay in the attic whenever he wanted in exchange for small relics he might uncover. It was yet another rare gesture of kindness in this brutal city.


    Why does he want a few relics so badly? Are they really that valuable?


    The city center buzzed with activity. Vendors shouted their cheap wares, and the occasional crier preached about the Abyss¡¯s growing threat. Cultists gathered at the edges, hooded faces chanting praises to unknown powers. Grimmers huddled in available corners, swapping stolen goods for Grimlace and eyeing the crowds for more rooks to rob. Mitch moved past them as they glowered at his presence.


    It¡¯s like they all know. Is it the Grimlace letting them know of the souls?


    Hoping none of them were Collectors, Mitch moved swiftly past, his muscles tense beneath the Shadowshroud. He wasn¡¯t looking for a fight, especially not here in front of the crowd. His gaze swept over the street, and he realized just how much more he was able to see now. A result of his new body. It felt strange¨Cunnerving, even¨Cto stand taller than everyone.


    Shadowy figures knelt at the entrances of churches, their low chants reverberating off the black stone, feeding the permanent darkness that clung to the city. His attention flicked to the towering spires clawing at the starlit sky. Many of the buildings leaned precariously, their metal finishes trembling in the cold wind. Even with his new perspective, the architecture felt suffocating, as if the stone and metal sought to close in on the crowds.


    He approached Crae¡¯s Agency, one of the few places in Shadowreach reputed for its ¡®nobility¡¯. Mitch¡¯s memories told him that most of the city¡¯s citizens saw them as the best bulwark against the ever reaching Abyss. For years, they had beaten back underground hordes at the Front and protected the Depths and Shadowreach''s inhabitants. This created a universal respect for the Agency throughout the city. It also resulted in unimaginable prosperity for its most successful members and Crae himself.


    The building Crae¡¯s had built in the city square stood like a fortress, stone walls reinforced with wrought iron bands. Black roof tiles gleamed under the floating candles from above, and it had already been claimed by a flock of crows, waiting for the next meal to fall. In a city like Shadowreach, Crae¡¯s left their front door wide open. A quiet, unmistakable display of power.


    Above the birds, stone gargoyles shifted, their cold, disdainful eyes tracking Mitch. Wings of soot stained granite twitched, talons scraping against the roof tiles as they watched him approach.


    Entering the grand archway, Mitch felt a sense of relief wash over him. The hall exuded both wealth and violence.


    Finally, surrounded by people who despise the Abyss as much as I do. No lurking threats, no Collectors. Just fighters.


    The air inside was thick with the scent of steel, sweat, and the faint undercurrent of burning incense. It stretched out longer than he expected, lined with polished red marble that shined beneath the torchlight. Tapestries depicting gruesome battles against Abyssal monstrosities hung heavy on the walls.


    Dozens of people moved about the hall. Elves, orcs, humans, gnomes, all walked purposefully. Their voices were low, conversations murmured beneath the constant clink of armor and weaponry. Eyes tracked him as he walked past. The ceiling arched high overhead, giving the space a cavernous feel.


    Mitch caught sight of an elf spinning a glowing scythe with effortless precision. Nearby, a gnome launched black spikes from her hand into a wooden dummy, the wood sizzling and melting under her attack. Strong spirits hung in the air, overpowering the underlying stench of dried blood. His heart quickened at the sight of the casually powerful army around him, their presence a chorus of strength. It felt like stepping into the very heart of violence and command.


    If there was a place to be in Shadowreach, this is it. You are extremely strong. You¡¯re no longer a skinny snot.


    Urgar spotted him first, hobbling up on short legs and grinning wickedly through his black beard. ¡°Ah, if it isn¡¯t the newest tough guy!¡± he boomed, pounding the metal plate he wore with a fist. Grizzled veterans from the nearby tables paused their conversations to size Mitch up. He felt their weighing stares as they took in his height and obvious muscles.


    Mitch gave Urgar a nod, a grin creeping onto his face. ¡°Glad to see I made an impression,¡± he replied, matching Urgar¡¯s energy with a firm clasp on the dwarf¡¯s shoulder. He took a step forward, feeling the eyes of the other members staring into him, measuring his mettle before he¡¯d spoken a word.


    It was strange, still. He knew this body was formidable, but it still felt like wearing armor that didn¡¯t quite fit. He wasn¡¯t just accepting the role of a warrior; he was forcing it. Wearing his body as a mask. But here, among warriors at least, it didn¡¯t feel as much of an act. Maybe, just maybe, this place would make it real.


    Act the part to be the part.


    ¡°Looks like a good crew,¡± Mitch said, letting his gaze drift across the hall. He kept his voice steady, even though the sheer presence of so many hardened fighters had him on edge. His muscles felt tight, not from exertion but from trying to project an air of calm confidence. Most of the real heavy-hitters must have skipped the party last night. ¡°Thanks for having me, but¡­figure I¡¯ll fit right in,¡± he added, though to his ears, it sounded rehearsed.


    ¡°You¡¯d better,¡± a voice rumbled nearby. Turning, Mitch saw Warrick, bruised and bandaged, but thankfully grinning. The giant green orc lumbered over and extended a hand. ¡°Can¡¯t say I minded that beating you gave me. Means you¡¯ve got some fight in you. Good to have you. And that nasty thing.¡± Warrick added with a nod toward the swirling black t-shirt Mitch wore. The Shadowshroud clung to him like it was waiting, its presence always a whisper in the back of his mind.


    Mitch shook his hand, trying to ignore the wave of discomfort. ¡°Didn¡¯t expect you to be so friendly, after last night.¡±


    Barely survived yesterday, and now I¡¯m pretending to be one of them.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    He didn¡¯t feel like a fighter. He was just wearing the part. But here, among people who were born into violence, he had no choice but to act the part.


    The orc shrugged, crossing his muscular arms over his chest. ¡°Only fools hold grudges that aren¡¯t worth holding. Besides,¡± he added with a glint in his eye, ¡°you¡¯re on our squad, and there¡¯s always the next round.¡±


    Warrick clapped him on the shoulder, and led him further into the hall. ¡°Come on. Sable¡¯s waiting. You¡¯ve passed your first trial by making it through the front door, but there¡¯s plenty left to prove if you want to walk with Crae¡¯s.¡±


    Crossing the giant hall, Mitch noticed more of the ritualistic details that hinted at the agency¡¯s reputation. Members sat sharpening weapons with expressions that spoke of long brutal night work. A hulking half-giant at a corner table was wiping blood off a massive war axe, while a trio of humans pointed at a battered map, plotting.


    Sable waited at the far end of the hall, leaning casually against a stone pillar. The same appraising look measured Mitch. ¡°Good to see you made it,¡± she said in her gravely voice from her stitched together throat. ¡°Crae¡¯s been expecting you. Let¡¯s move.¡±


    Mitch¡¯s sharp eyes caught the tension in the way her fingers tapped against her leg. He¡¯d seen that before, though not often from someone as steady as her. She looked calm, almost indifferent to him, but something about her posture gave her away¨Ctoo controlled, too deliberate.


    She¡¯s nervous. Just like me, in a way. She¡¯s wearing the mask of cold control, I¡¯m wearing the mask of an overzealous newbie. Doing a better job than I am of it.


    She turned, and led them up a spiraled wrought iron staircase. The air grew warmer, and the hall¡¯s noise faded to a distant hum.


    Her shoulders relaxed slightly, though she didn¡¯t respond. Mitch caught the briefest glance, a flick of her stitched together throat, before she focused on the stairs.


    Sable arrived at a heavy iron door and turned to face him. The door was reinforced with Abyssal bones carved with intricate symbols. Mitch felt a subtle vibration from the bones, as if they were testing him. After a moment, they seemed to accept him, their tension easing in silent acknowledgement.


    Can they all feel that? Creepy.


    ¡°Stay sharp.¡± She said, giving him a small smirk that left him open-mouthed, and pushed open the door.


    Ok, she is pretty. Don¡¯t be weird, Mitch.


    The room was both grand, and stark. Black candles floated around the ceiling, casting shadows over the shelved walls holding all manner of relics. A rich red carpet stretched back to a carved desk.


    Behind the desk, a figure rose from his chair. He was a full orc, imposing and broad-shouldered, taller than even Mitch with a thick, powerful bulk. Gray patches mottled his green skin, and obviously dyed blond hair hung over his face, shrouding piercing black eyes. Crae didn¡¯t bother with armor. Instead, he wore a simple black coat that emphasized the layers of fat covering his muscles.


    ¡°Welcome,¡± Crae said, his voice surprisingly smooth and high pitched. ¡°You¡¯re the one that put Warrick in his place.¡± Warrick grunted, and Crae¡¯s mouth quirked into a half-smile, revealing golden teeth around his chipped left tusk. ¡°Impressive.¡±


    Mitch inclined his head, heart hammering. ¡°Just did what I had to. Figured it¡¯d be a quick way to get noticed. Not many chances here in Shadowreach.¡±


    Yeah, just a local kid who needs a chance. He¡¯ll like that.


    Crae¡¯s eyes shifted to Sable, his tone softening. ¡°I¡¯ve brought you up through this, Sable. Trained you. Now¡¯s your time to show me what you can do with a squad of your own. If you do well¡­you know what I¡¯ve promised you,¡±


    Her jaw tightened. ¡°You¡¯ll get results.¡± Her voice was steady, but Mitch noticed the pressure she felt.


    ¡°I¡¯d better,¡± Crae replied, voice laden with expectation. He let the moment hang in the air before turning back to Mitch.


    Crae met Mitch¡¯s eyes, holding his gaze. ¡°You¡¯ve certainly made us notice your potential. But strength alone isn¡¯t enough for our line of work. We¡¯re not just here to fight. We¡¯re here to beat the Abyss back. And to make a hell of a living doing it.¡±


    He stepped around the desk. ¡°You¡¯re new here, so I¡¯ll give you a bit of advice. The Agency isn¡¯t just a place for the strong. It¡¯s a place for the smart. You can¡¯t just muscle your way through everything.¡± He stopped in front of Mitch, crossing his arms. ¡°If you want to walk with us, you¡¯ll need to prove that you can handle more than just a fight. We always deliver, no matter the cost.¡±


    Mitch held his gaze, feeling an edged respect and wariness for Crae. This was a man who had seen the true depths and returned. Someone who had learned both ends of the game.


    No matter the cost. Driven and intense, but a good ally if I play this right.


    ¡°I¡¯m just happy for the opportunity to really fight against the Abyss,¡± Mitch replied deeply, showing Craw what he wanted to see. ¡°I¡¯m ready to make a difference.¡±


    Crae¡¯s eyes sharpened. ¡°We¡¯ve had our eye on a very particular relic. Its guardian has no mercy, and all of our preliminary teams never returned. It¡¯s said to be a dagger forged from shadows. Apparently, it''s tied directly to the deepest pit of the Abyss. Retrieve it, and bring it back here. Don¡¯t worry, your new friends will be joining you.¡±


    Mitch felt a thrill of excitement and dread. ¡°Understood,¡± he said, feeling the weight of the soul sword at his back, and the many others stashed away inside of him. ¡°We¡¯ll bring it back.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s bloody right we will. Be the first group in fifty odd years to defeat an Abyssal Tramp. First real outing as a group too!¡± Urgar¡¯s voice swelled from beside him.


    Crae gave a nod of approval, assessing Mitch one final time. ¡°Good. Sable will give you the specifics. You all leave tonight.¡± He offered his meaty hand, and Mitch shook it. There was unmistakable strength there, and also something odd. Something dark that felt oddly familiar. The Souls recoiled from the man.


    Hmmm¡­What is that? Mitch wondered, his gut twisting with a feeling he couldn¡¯t shake. Or am I just imagining it?


    If Crae noticed as well, there was no sign. ¡°Welcome to Crae¡¯s Agency, Mitch,¡± the orc said, releasing his hand and giving him a greasy smile. ¡°I have a feeling you¡¯ll do well here.¡±


    As he left the room with his new squad, Mitch couldn¡¯t shake the sense that Crae was testing him in more than just one way.


    A meaty palm smacked his back. ¡°First day and already throwing you into the Abyss,¡± Warrick teased, winking at him through a swollen eye. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Urgar and I will make sure you live through it.¡±


    Urgar fell into step beside Mitch. ¡°Good to see ya leading us down there, Sable. Always done right by us¨Cno reason this¡¯ll be different.¡±


    Mitch glanced at Sable, expecting some kind of reassurance. She gave him a cold smile. ¡°Not different, but just us, no big team. They¡¯re not wrong, Mitch. Don¡¯t expect hand-holding, everyone here earns their place, but we¡¯ve got your back if you¡¯ve got ours.¡± She offered him a flat smile before continuing down.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go, we need to plan,¡± She said over her shoulder. Mitch couldn¡¯t help but admire her figure from behind. Tight black leathers clinging to her athletic form. Looking back at them, a slight panic filled him as her multi-colored eyes almost caught him staring.


    Be cool, man.


    ¡°We don¡¯t need flashy speeches to do what¡¯s expected,¡± Sable said, glancing over her shoulder at Mitch and the others. ¡°You¡¯ve all seen what the Abyss can do. It doesn¡¯t wait for us to hesitate.¡± Her multicolored eyes locked with Mitch¡¯s for a moment, her tone firm but quiet. ¡°So, don¡¯t.¡±


    Quest: Retrieve the Shadow Dagger


    Retrieve the Shadow Dagger with aid from your comrades.


    Status: Incomplete


    Reward: A hint at the location of the Sealed Door

 Chapter 10: Undercity

    Leaving Shadowreach for the Depths felt like peeling back a layer of grime to find another, more disgusting layer just beneath it. The squad¨CSable, Warrick, Urgar, and their newest member, Mitch¨Ctrudged past the uninhabited outskirts of the city. While Shadowreach was dangerous, living without the safety of numbers was a deathwish.


    Brilliant stars from the permanent night sky lit the muddy path beneath their feet. The glowing spires and distant candles of Shadowreach faded as they neared one of the main shafts leading below.


    These shafts were ancient, their origins whispered to Mitch through half-forgotten memories. They descended through the cracked crust of the earth, diving straight down where the Abyss had once broken through generations ago, belching forth hellspawn.


    A great maw of jagged metal loomed before them, and even before stepping inside, Mitch could feel the weight of the earth pressing down from all sides.


    The rusted metal elevator shuddered to life. It creaking loudly as it descended. Bent beams groaned, and the grated floor felt uneven beneath Mitch¡¯s boots. Chains rattled overhead, pulling them down, slow and heavy.


    The starlight above vanished, replaced by sickly green glow from enchanted stones flickering weakly from the walls. Shadows leapt and twisted across burnt stone, the flickering light casting everything in sharp, jagged shapes. The air was damp, thick, and pressed from all sides.


    No one spoke. Just the clank of metal and the groan of the cage.


    Mitch¡¯s nerves tensed with each jolt. But the deeper they went, the more familiar it all felt. It tugged at something within him. Like the darkness was calling.


    Feels like coming home¡­


    With a final bang of metal on rock, the elevator stopped, and the oppressive air of the Depths enveloped them. Tight rock corridors stretched out in every direction, barely wide enough for two to walk side by side.  The only light came from small, dim glowstones embedded in the walls at irregular intervals, casting a pale greenish hue over everything. Shadows clung to the jagged surfaces like living things, making it hard to tell where the darkness ended and the rock began.


    Everywhere, thralls toiled. Hollow eyes fixed on nothing as they followed various orders. Some hefted heavy bags into carts that moved on their own accord. Others chipped away at walls with relentless persistence, carving new tunnels into unknown directions. These weren¡¯t people. Not anymore.


    Just failing bodies forced to continue eternal work. Their bosses, hidden necromancers, managed them like machinery, and hid themselves away from prying eyes.


    Sable scowled at the thralls with a look of pure contempt. ¡°It¡¯s disgusting,¡± she spat, her voice dripping with venom as she led the way down the corridor.


    Mitch didn¡¯t ask, but his memories allowed him to understand enough. As a Patchling, she was also a creation, but she had a will, and a mind.


    It was well known, however, that Patchlings did not possess a soul. Their bodies, stitched together from so many parts, couldn¡¯t anchor one. You couldn¡¯t just force any old soul into a patchwork of flesh. It would tear itself apart.


    Sable¡¯s shoulders stiffened as they passed a thrall dragging a heavy sack. The dim green light caught the faintest twitch in her jaw, there and gone in a heartbeat. She didn¡¯t look back.


    A pang of empathy washed over Mitch as they wound through the narrow black-stone passages. To exist without a soul¡­what kind of existence was that?


    Sable steered them towards the habitable part of the underground. The Front, where Abyssal monsters were forever beaten back by mercenaries, was not their target. A rotation of Crae''s were there as a permanent fixture. Fighting until they had their fill of guts and money.


    Grimmers lurked in the corners, barely visible as they scavenged in the shadows. In the glowstone''s weak light, their eyes gleamed with wicked malice, scuttling like rats, their hunger more unhinged down here. Most of all, their gaze lingered on Mitch, watching him with unsettling intensity.


    Without warning, a man appeared from the shadows, his face hidden beneath a tattered shroud. He blocked their path, his hand lifting to point straight at Mitch.


    ¡°Pay up, boy,¡± the ghastly voice demanded.


    Collectors?! Down here too?


    Mitch froze as pressure built in his chest. The Collector began his casting, and Mitch felt the souls inside him thrashing, fighting to stay anchored. They clawed at the walls of his core.


    Sable moved faster than the Collector¡¯s skill. Toward the man in the dim light, she flicked her hand.


    Thin metal wires shot from her fingers, glinting in the green glow as they spiraled toward the Collector. In an instant, they wrapped around him, coiling like a serpent.


    The Collector thrashed, his casting interrupted, as the wires bit into his flesh. His guttural scream pierced the air, but the wires only tightened, sinking deeper with each twist of Sable¡¯s wrist. Blood flowed, staining his robes as the wires dug into muscle, then wrapped around bone.


    Mitch stood frozen, breathless.


    Is this what her Skill is? Holy shit.


    He felt an odd mix of awe and discomfort watching her work. There was something ruthless and effortless about it, like she wasn¡¯t even trying. She¡¯s done this before. Too many times to count.


    It wasn¡¯t fear he felt¡ªnot quite. But her cold efficiency left him questioning just how far he¡¯d have to go to keep up.


    With a final twist, the wires sliced clean through, and the Collector crumpled to the ground in a heap of tissue and cloth.


    Sable brushed her hands together, winked at him, and stepped over the remains. ¡°Looked like you needed a hand,¡± she said as continued down the winding passageway.


    Mitch opened his mouth to say something, but Urgar waved him off and tramped after their leader. ¡°Spare the thanks, lad. Ain¡¯t the first, and won¡¯t be the last.¡±


    Mitch exhaled, his chest tight. What the hell have I gotten myself into? These are the Skills that people can have?


    Warrick, silent and stoic as usual, grunted behind him, deep voice echoing off the walls. ¡°Move on. It¡¯ll be worse as we get deeper.¡±


    That¡¯s it. I¡¯ll just kill every Collector.


    Dark humor filled him as he was left staring at the remains of the Collector. Mitch thought about the possibilities.


    If I just get so strong that no Collector can face me, what happens with my Abyssal Debt? Agony¡¯s Embrace permanently enhances my strength, and I also get stronger from having souls in my core¡­Just how strong do the Collectors get?Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    His team moved on without him. Mitch used Abyssal Vault to siphon off the flesh and soul. The Shadowshroud growled low in his mind, like a hungry pitbull tugging at its leash. He could feel its demand, its desire to feed.


    Not now, he thought, pushing back against its urge. It huffed in frustration, but settled, waiting for its chance.


    Soon, Mitch promised it.


    Settlement Amount: 14(+1) Souls, 0 Credits, 1(+1) Flesh


    The black tendril of the soul slotted into his core, along with the flesh. A hum of power radiated through his body from the gain. The mingling souls roared in approval, demanding more. Shaking the eerie feeling he just couldn¡¯t get used to, Mitch continued on with his new squad.


    Through the cramped corridors, Mitch sensed that eyes still watched. Veterans stared out from their small shops carved into stone. Citizens of the Depths avoided bodily contact with anyone with practiced ease, but he caught many side-eyed glances at him.


    Extreme wariness filled the air as non-thralled miners slumped back to their pitch black dwellings after back breaking work.


    Urgar broke the silence. ¡°Can¡¯t blame ¡®em for staring. Not every day they see a fresh face walking down here.¡± His grin gleamed in the dim light. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, lad. They¡¯ll like you better once they think you¡¯ve survived a few days.¡±


    Sable snorted. ¡°That¡¯s optimistic.¡±


    Mitch grunted, shaking his head in fake bluster he wanted to project. ¡°It¡¯s not me I¡¯m worried about.¡±


    Warrick¡¯s low rumble cut through. ¡°Keep moving. The faster we¡¯re out of sight, the less we tempt anyone stupid enough to try something.¡±


    Finally, they approached a small inn carved into the stone, its doorway low and unassuming. A weathered wooden sign hung from the cave¡¯s roof. They had arrived at the Carved Cave Inn.


    Mitch felt the shift as soon as he slinked through the small wooden door after Warrick. The air here was different. A rough warmth compared to the cold, black corridors outside. The inn was carved into the jagged, dark rock of the Depths, but the walls told a story.


    Hand-drawn sketches covered every surface, battles against the Abyss sketched in white-chalk lines. Crude, but powerful. Each stroke dedicated to the violence of the past, a reminder of what lurked beneath.


    The murmurs inside were low but constant. Gruff miners with soot-streaked faces leaned over their drinks while cloaked figures slouched in corners. Despite the rough crowd, there was a strange sense of belonging here. The warmth wasn¡¯t from traditional fire; instead, a perpetually burning face flickered from the fireplace with closed eyes.


    The innkeeper behind the bar was a grizzled old man with a scarred face and gray ashen skin. As the group approached the bar, the man straightened up, wiping his hands on a stained cloth. Examining the newcomers, his gaze settled on Mitch, eyes widening with an odd recognition. The innkeeper¡¯s mouth parted slightly, and he gave a subtle, respectful bow.


    ¡°Welcome,¡± he murmured, his tone cautious and eyes never left Mitch¡¯s hair. Sable paid for their lodgings by transferring the man credits with a wave of her hand over the innkeepers, her expression impassive as ever.


    Looking around the bar, Mitch noticed some older patrons stealing glances at him, their eyes lingering on his white hair. It seemed to draw attention like a beacon for some, even more than the giant sword strapped to his back.


    He followed Urgar and Warrick further inside, stepping past clusters of scarred patrons huddled in conversation. The three men settled at a table with their drinks. Mitch drank a stout ale alongside Urgar, Warrick opted for a pink fruity liquor in a dainty glass. He decided not to comment on the large orc¡¯s choice.


    ¡°Where¡¯d Sable go?¡± Mitch asked the duo, noticing that their leader had disappeared.


    Warrick snorted, taking a quick sip from his tiny cup. ¡°Sable? She keeps to herself. Always has, always will.¡± He leaned in closer, entire fist wrapping around his glass. ¡°And trust me, you¡¯d be smart to let her. Girl¡¯s got her own demons. Don¡¯t think anything funny with that one.¡± The giant orc sipped his pink drink, smacking his lips at its taste. ¡°Mmmm. Delicious.¡±


    Urgar grinned, tossing back his own drink before leaning forward conspiratorially. ¡°Aye, lad. Sable¡¯s not one to cross. She¡¯s good to have on your side in a fight, but beyond that, best to leave ¡®er be.¡± He tapped his fingers on the table rhythmically, nervous energy leaving his body as he eyed the other patrons. ¡°¡¯Sides, don¡¯t need to be pokin¡¯ your nose in places it don¡¯t belong, eh? Gotten me into more trouble than I care to tell,¡± Urgar gave him a wink to let him know he was mostly joking.


    Mitch leaned back, letting the low murmur of voices and the clink of steel tankards wash over him. He had been a loner before being murdered and thrust into this new body. Sitting amongst a group, surrounded by the hardened types and the gritty hum of life in the Depths, he felt something unexpected settling over him¨Ccomfort.


    The Depths were a far cry from the open sky and sprawl of Shadowreach, but somehow, in this cold, brutal place he felt like he could fit in. It was a place where he could lose himself in the chaos of battle and forge ahead, proving himself. A place where power mattered above all else.


    Or so he hoped.


    As Warrick and Urgar fell into their own conversation, Mitch excused himself and made his way to his room. The narrow hallway was almost too small for his shoulders, and the faint light cast by the glowstones flickered.


    The door was low, forcing Mitch to duck as he stepped inside. It was a tight fit, barely wide enough for his shoulders to pass through. He pushed it open with a creak, the hinges groaning in protest. The sound reminded him of his friend now gone, Hathgar. Nothing dwarven made would ever creak.


    The room was as small as the entrance, with no windows, just solid rock walls that seemed to press in from all sides. A single faint glowstone embedded in the ceiling cast a weak, ghostly light over the cramped space.


    Mitch dropped his backpack to the floor. It held his only possessions: a canteen, an extra pair of black pants, and a shard of broken glass.


    Here goes nothing.


    On the small, lumpy bed, a folded piece of paper caught his eye. He crossed the room in a single step, and scooped it up. Unfolding the note, he read the message scrawled in the jagged script.


    The old blood remembers, and will answer when called.


    Mitch¡¯s heart pounded, a chill running down his spine. He wasn¡¯t sure who left the note or what it meant, but something about the message resonated deep within him. The Souls in his core pounded in his ears. Riled by the message, they awoke a part of him he hadn¡¯t yet discovered.


    As if on cue, a surge of cold power flowed through him, and the souls within him shifted, listening to him. A flicker of control bloomed in his chest, twisting, coiling, ready to spring forth and assert itself. The sensation settled deep inside him like a dark promise.


    The notification hit, filling him in on what had just happened.


    Affliction Skill Gained


    Dominion of Shadows


    Level 1


    Exert control over lesser Abyssal beings. True obedience must be granted willingly.


    Usage of this Skill may attract the attention of beings from the Abyss.


    Mitch closed his eyes, focussing on the strange sensation. For a moment, he felt the weight of the Depths bearing down upon him. His very being demanded obedience from the shadows below, and if he was reading the skill correctly, those he influenced had to accept his leadership willingly for the best effect.


    This wasn¡¯t just strength; it was authority. An influence that made the Souls within him sit up with their backs straight, as if he called upon them to do his bidding.


    Looks like the Souls within me have already accepted it¡­What am I becoming?


    Sinking into his bed, Mitch ran his fingers over the words. The instinct and choices he made had led him here. To this moment. The Collectors would keep coming, and he had to do something, anything other than let them torture him with no retribution.


    This, however, added something deeper. Connected to the strange memories and the power he now wielded. The Depths and his own gut had called him here, and he would answer.


    As Mitch layed back on the bed, staring at the flickering glowstone above him, a grim determination settled over him.


    He would no longer flinch from the Collectors. Tomorrow, he would fight harder, dive deeper, and uncover the secrets buried in the earth.


    Time to get to work.


    Mitch thought over everything that he had to do as he reached for a small item in his backpack. He pulled out the glass shard and stabbed his palm slowly, shooting tiny bumps of power into himself with Agony¡¯s Embrace.


    Kill the Collectors. Save the souls. Grow stronger. Find the knife. Unlock the door. End whoever started this.


    But it wasn¡¯t just about him anymore. Warrick and Urgar¡ªrough as they were¡ªhad his back in a fight. And Sable? She¡¯d already saved his life once. If he wanted to survive, it wasn¡¯t enough to grow strong for himself. He¡¯d need to keep them alive too.


    His palm dripped blood onto the rough sheets as he planned. The Depths and the Abyss had much to teach, and he was ready to learn.

 Chapter 11: Deeper Into the Depths

    The morning started with a greasy breakfast at the inn. Roasted mystery meat, tough and oily, alongside unleavened bread. No one spoke much. It was a meal meant for survival, not comfort. Mitch chewed slowly, his thoughts descending deeper about what was to come. The crew''s obvious nerves had him on edge. As did his notification.


    Credits


    Debts: -1,001,332* -> -1,001,998*


    Assets: 127 Credits, 0 Souls*, 0 Flesh*


    Interest: -666/day


    Cashflow: 0/day


    Urgar belched loudly and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. ¡°A meal to remember, eh?¡± He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood, but the nervousness in his voice didn¡¯t escape Mitch.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get moving, time to see what the rookie can do,¡± Sabe said, smirking at Mitch and adjusting her light gear. ¡°Time to go down.¡±


    The team gathered their belongings and headed out, deeper into the Depths.


    The carved path wound downward, steeper and darker with every step. Narrow passageways that seemed to swallow them whole. The glowstones embedded into the walls grew dimmer, casting long shadows over uneven ground. There were no more shops, no more inhabitants.


    The paths were carved out long ago, left rough and jagged by tools and claws. The deeper they went, the more the atmosphere shifted from dark to sinister.


    Mitch heard his footsteps echo through the rocky corridors, no longer packed with thralls and miners¨Cjust empty tunnels where the weight of the Depths pressed down from every side. Stone walls dripped, and the air grew thick with the scent of damp earth and rot.


    Sable led the way, her footfalls silent. Mitch followed close, Warrick just behind him. Urgar trailed, his shorter legs forcing him to keep up in a steady jog. As they descended, Mitch couldn¡¯t help but feel excitement.


    The deeper the squad ventured, the colder it became. Damp air clung to their skin, and the sound of their footsteps were replaced by a low, distant groan, as if the earth and rock itself was whining in protest around them.


    Something about pushing forward ignited his heart.


    Now this is real adventuring. Into the unknown!


    But that spark of excitement flickered against the heavier truth pressing in around him. The Depths weren¡¯t just dark¡ªthey were suffocating. The kind of place that swallowed people whole, leaving nothing but whispers behind. Was he ready for this? For the kind of strength it would take to keep moving forward?


    He rolled his shoulders, forcing himself to keep stride with Sable.


    Focus. Fear won¡¯t help here.


    ¡°Remember, Mitch,¡± Sable repeated over her shoulder. She had reminded him several times throughout the morning of each Skill of the squad. It was starting to get annoying. He may be big, but Mitch was pretty sure he wasn¡¯t an imbecile.


    ¡°Urgar has a berserker Skill. Warrick phases. I shoot metal wires and control them. You heal and¡­,¡± She paused, glancing at him briefly. For a split second, Mitch caught the hesitation in her eyes. ¡°...hit really hard,¡± she finished with a smirk.


    ¡°Yeah, he does.¡± Warrick muttered and Urgar laughed at the remark.


    Sable exhaled quietly, her smirk settling into a more confident expression as she continued leading the way. Mitch couldn¡¯t tell if she was reassuring herself or them, but she didn¡¯t break stride.


    ¡°This is it,¡± Sable announced, leading the group with sure, confident strides. ¡°The point where the Depths and the Abyss start to intersect. Eyes open, everyone.¡±


    Mitch felt the tension increase as the dark, rocky corridor widened into a massive chamber. The air was still, and veins of sickly green light ran through the stone, casting a glow over the open space. It was clearly an abandoned mining site, long forgotten. The tracks of old mine carts snaked through the stone like scars. Some led to offshoot passageways, some led to gaping chasms in the ground.


    The chasms were bottomless black pits. Either leading to other sites, or descending endlessly.


    Urgar gave a low whistle, leaning over the edge of one of the holes. His voice echoed down into the abyss. ¡°Always wondered¡­how can these pits really be bottomless? There has to be a bottom somewhere, right?¡± His tone was light, but Mitch caught the uneasy glance he gave the endless drop.


    ¡°Careful,¡± Warrick grunted behind them. Mitch had pressed right up to the edge, and was staring down into the black hole. He stepped back, not even realizing that he had gotten so close, Warrick¡¯s voice snapping him back to what he was doing. ¡°You fall, you don¡¯t come back.¡±


    Mitch didn¡¯t respond, but his muscles tensed as they continued. His eyes flicked back to the pit as they continued, unable to keep his eyes off of them.


    The silence was oppressive. Only interrupted by the groans of the rock, improperly mined and buckling slowly. Something had Mitch¡¯s hackles standing, but he couldn¡¯t say what. He scanned the shadowy corners of the chamber. Some shadows played tricks on the eye, flickering in and out as if the darkness itself was watching them


    As they approached a corridor, Mitch spotted something get up from what he thought was a dark crevice in the wall.


    A man¨Cno, not quite a man anymore¨Cstumbled out of the shadows. Thin and gaunt, his body was a twisted, hunched form. But something was wrong with him. His skin was missing in chunks, replaced with black splotches that pulsed faintly. Like an infection that spread beneath the surface. His metal armor had been torn and fused into flesh in places, jagged pieces of rust digging into him. A curled and blackened right arm twitched at his side, overlarge and swollen.


    His movements were erratic. Twitchy, as though he was trying to fight something inside him. He muttered under his breath, incoherent. Raw words slipping through cracked, bloodless lips.


    ¡°They took them¡­they took all of them¡­,¡± His voice was raw, hoarse from what seemed like years of madness. ¡°But not me¡­No, not me.¡±


    He dragged his feet as he shuffled forward, his eyes wide and unblinking. Within a twenty foot perimeter of the squad, his head jerked up. Suddenly, those listless eyes were fully aware as they locked onto the group.


    Sable tensed, her hand creeping upwards as she prepared a shot of metal wiring. ¡°The Abyss has taken him,¡± she said in a low voice. ¡°We should¨C¡±


    The man¡¯s twitching stopped abruptly as something inside him snapped audibly. Mitch smelt foul rot permeating the air. His head tilted sharply to the side as the man¡¯s cracked lips split into a toothless smile. ¡°You¡¯ll never find it,¡± he rasped, staring at Sable with a twisted grin. ¡°You¡¯ll never find what you seek, little Scrapling. It¡¯s already theirs¡­they don¡¯t need your body to have their fun.¡±


    His gaze then snapped to Mitch, something predatory and dark as bones cracked in the man, seeking to flex themselves. The dark sparkled in his eyes, his face distorted as dried skin split on his cheeks. ¡°And you¡­¡± His voice dipped to a cruel whisper. ¡°You should know your place.¡±


    The change happened in an instant.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    The man¡¯s body convulsed violently, bones cracking further and shifting beneath weathered skin. His limbs elongated grotesquely, spindly and covered in black spots, like a disease. His rusted armor split, fusing completely with his flesh. It stretched and tore as his muscles bulged unnaturally. His skin and face split open. Revealing raw, oozing flesh beneath.


    Mitch watched the glint of metal spiraling towards the Abyssal Man, and wrap around his torso. Sable had launched her Skill. He was enraptured by the transformation, his battle senses firing at their enemy. The Shadowshroud pulled him forward, and the Souls in his chest screamed at him to charge.


    She fired another measure of metal again, this time at the man¡¯s legs. Squeezing her hand, the metal dug into the man¡¯s flesh, and reached bone. But what use is slicing flesh of the damned?


    ¡°Urgar, get at him!¡± Sable yelled, only to be interrupted as the man continued to transform.


    A guttural growl escaped his throat as his face contorted, warping into something with too-large a mouth. His once human features were gone. Replaced by a jagged, tooth-filled maw that roared. The ground shook from the sound, the scent of putrid meat filling the unmoving air. As the scream ended, Mitch heard something. Patters in the background. Hundreds of small steps that quickly approached.


    From the pit, from the passageways. From the depths of the pits around them, the faint sounds of claws scraping against stone began to echo.


    ¡°What¡¯s that¡­¡± Urgar¡¯s voice trembled as he backed away from the monster, wide eyed and fearful.


    ¡°Urgar, stop running circles and charge already! Forgeheart¡¯s not just for show, you coward!¡±¡± Sable yelled again as she fired another metal strand towards the monster.


    This one caught the approaching monster by the wrist, and the remaining steel wrapped around a rock spiking out of the ground.


    Mitch wanted to rush forward. To fight this hellspawn. His heart pounded in symphony along the roars of the Souls within him. They wanted him to take it head on.


    Gazing down into a pit, he saw them. Dark shapes moved below, crawling up the walls with terrifying speed.


    The man¨Cno, the monster¨Cthrew back its head and roared, tearing Sable¡¯s wire with his newly formed teeth. Sable looked back at the group angrily, before firing another metal wire towards him. She yelled for Urgar to charge the monster again, but the dwarf faltered. His black beard whipped the air as Urgar glanced frantically at the edges of the room, towards the sounds of the approaching horde.


    Mitch had had enough of Urgar¡¯s cowardice. With a ring, he ripped his empty Soul Sword from the scabbard against his back, and held it in front of him towards the monster.


    Fear melted away. It was replaced by the cold detachment of his Devoid Skill as he shoved unwanted emotions into it. It was like cutting the tether to everything human. No hesitation, no doubt. Only focus. Intoxicating clarity surged through him, but Mitch knew the cost. He couldn¡¯t push his emotions down forever. When they came back, they would come with a reckoning.


    If Urgar didn¡¯t get his act together, they¡¯d all be overrun. Mitch couldn¡¯t let that happen¡ªnot here, not like this.


    When the upgrade hit, he grinned darkly and continued on. He felt like nothing could stop him in his state.


    Affliction Skill Upgraded


    Devoid


    Level 2


    Lock away undesired emotions and thoughts. Feel only what you wish.


    + Your drive demands sacrifices.


    All emotions and thoughts must be addressed eventually.


    ¡°Mitch! No!¡± Sable and Warrick both shouted behind him as he took off.


    No? Such fear.


    Mitch¡¯s muscles tensed as he propelled himself forward, feet pounding against the rough stone floor. His eyes locked onto the monster¡¯s grotesque body, disgust forming in his mind as every step brought him closer towards his prize¨Cit¡¯s twisted trapped arm. The souls inside him roared in unison.


    Mitch¡¯s legs coiled, launching him into the air. He soared and swung. The blade met no resistance as it was thrown forward by his powerful arm. It cut cleanly through flesh and bone, severing the limb in a shower of blood. The creature¡¯s howl split the air. A scream of pure agony that emboldened his battlelust.


    His body''s memories clearly included fighting with a sword.


    Knew it. Thank you body.


    Before he could land, the monster¡¯s remaining arm slammed into his chest with bone-crushing force. The wind left his body as Mitch felt ribs crack, the impact sending him flying across the chamber.


    ¡°Warrick! Distract it, anything!¡± Sable¡¯s voice was sharp, commanding over the chaos.


    Mitch¡¯s flight ended abruptly as he slammed into something cold. The tight mass of a Grimmer. Their first guest had arrived. Mitch picked himself up off the body that smelled sweet from Grimlace. Its legs were broken from his impact, and Mitch pried himself away from its reaching hands.


    Its face was twisted in a mockery of life. Its body was frail, and its shattered legs scrambled desperately beneath it, cracking further as it reached for him.


    The impact left him winded, but his Agony¡¯s Embrace surged in response to the pain. He felt his body harden, the energy coursing through him.


    Mitch gritted his teeth, and without hesitation, brought his sword down, slicing cleanly through the creature¡¯s neck. Its gurgling cut off as the Grimmer¡¯s head rolled. The scrambling body slumped.


    His chest ached, but the pain only fueled him.


    There were more footsteps approaching, he could hear them down the tunnel. Turning around, he spotted the fight with the monster ensuing.


    Warrick phased in and out between spaces. His massive frame appeared and disappeared like a ghost around the thrashing monster. Each time he appeared, he struck with spiked knuckle dusters, driving them into the creature¡¯s bulging flesh.


    At least someone knows that they¡¯re doing.


    Sable stayed further back, trying to pin down the monster with her wires. But the beast howled and fought, its rage overpowering their attacks.


    Mitch wiped blood from his face and turned toward the growing sounds. Scraping of hands, feet meeting rock. The gurgles and chittering of Grimmers turned to frothing monsters. People turned into animals.


    They were coming straight for them, and Mitch felt the fire in his belly from the thought. They would be here any moment. The one he had slain had just been early.


    Mitch noticed Urgar. The dwarf wasn¡¯t joining the fight. Instead, he was running in frantic circles around the chamber, his head darting left and right, searching for any way out. He stumbled toward one passage, only to freeze and recoil as the sound of scraping painted panic on his face.


    ¡°Grimmers¡­¡± Mitch heard the dwarf over all the noise. Urgar had backed into a wall, his eyes darting between the encroaching darkness and the fight. ¡°We¡¯re surrounded! They¡¯re everywhere!¡±


    Mitch¡¯s mind raced as he stared into the darkness, where hundreds of malformed people clawed their way up from the pits. Grimmers, rushing in from every corner, scuttling like insects. Broken bodies dragging themselves towards him with terrifying speed.


    His Devoid skill made him smirk.


    If this thing is infected by the Abyss and it¡¯s calling Grimmers¡­Mitch¡¯s thoughts flickered, cold humor filling him.


    Are all Grimmers Abyssal beings?


    Mitch shook off the distraction of Urgar yelling. ¡°We¡¯re not going to make it! We can¡¯t fight them all¡± The dwarf yelled, as Sable and Warrick took the monstrous man head on.


    No time to waste.


    Mitch flexed his Abyssal Vault, a mental tug pulling flesh and soul from the Grimmer he had slain. Drawing its power into his own.


    Settlement Amount: 15(+1) Souls, 0 Credits, 2(+1) Flesh


    Pulling a single flesh out, and spreading it through his body, his wounds knit back together. Ribs solidified from fragments as strength surged back into him. The hum of power throbbed in his veins, the Souls howling at the approaching horde.


    Settlement Amount: 15(+1) Souls, 0 Credits, 1(-1) Flesh


    There¡¯s going to be a lot of bodies here. Plenty of souls to harvest.


    The Shadowshroud growled. A deep, hungry grumble at the back of his mind. It tugged at him again, demanding to be let loose.


    Not yet. You¡¯ll get yours, boy.


    The ground trembled beneath him as the Grimmers scuttled closer, their twisted forms clawing up the stone walls of the pit. Mitch tightened his grip on the Soul Sword, the blade gleaming faintly in the green light.


    Let them come.


    The first wave of Grimmers had finally arrived. It was time to test his mettle.


    ¡°Any time you¡¯re done staring, rookie! Care to actually help before we''re all Grimmer food?¡± Sable yelled at Mitch, Urgar forgotten.


    This was the beginning. The Abyss had never met someone like him. And soon, it would learn.


    Mitch launched himself at the horde coming from the nearest tunnel.

 Chapter 12: Burning Cold

    The first Grimmer lunged, slashing a knife through the air. Mitch¡¯s body moved on instinct¨Chis body¡¯s memories serving him well. He sidestepped the attack and swung his Soul Sword in a brutal arc, cleaving cleanly through the creature¡¯s neck. Its body collapsed, head rolling. But more followed, rushing over their fallen kin like hungry insects.


    Every strike was precise, deliberate. His blade cut through bodies of underfed Grimmers with his unnatural strength, the Souls within him screaming for more as bodies piled around him. The Shadowshroud¡¯s hunger was growing as it growled in the back of his mind, but so was his fury.


    Trapped in the tunnel with him, this wasn¡¯t a fight. It was a slaughter. The stream of rushing Grimmers didn¡¯t stand a chance.


    He didn''t want to use his Dominion of Shadows Skill, which allowed him to assert control over lesser Abyssal beings. Even if it worked on Grimmers, he wanted to test himself now and the Skill later, rather than in the heat of battle.


    Mitch¡¯s body hardened with every blow he took, pain amplifying his strength. Before long, he was covered in open wounds from the teeth and knives of the surrounding horde. Instead of faltering, he started to get a feel for his Affliction Skills. Every slice he took only fueled his body, and his battle rhythm.


    He drove his sword into one Grimmer¡¯s chest, siphoning the flesh and souls of the fallen addicts that clogged the tunnel he fought within. The fresh, black colored souls were sequestered into his core to mingle with the others. Flesh was applied to his body using his Agony''s Embrace, healing the gaping wounds from the hits he did take, while the bodies withered and then cracked beneath his feet.


    As he siphoned more and more bodies around him, a path back to the cavern opened. He leapt at it to get back to his squad. The horde of Grimmers hurled their bodies forward, rushing after him. Mitch flicked away the notification that blocked his vision.


    Affliction Skill Upgraded


    Abyssal Vault


    Level 3


    Collect, Siphon, and store Souls, Flesh, and Credits within. A living account for your Abyssal Debt.


    Meet a Collector to transfer the sum.


    Settlement Amount: 36(+21) Souls, 0 Credits, 31(+21) Flesh


    Back in the cavern, Mitch saw that the horde of Grimmers had piled into the open space. The pits spewed more out, their bodies twisted, faces held in a permanent grimace, and eyes filled with malice. Mitch¡¯s muscles burned, his chest heaved, but he didn¡¯t stop moving.


    Warrick was phasing in and out of existence, his spiked gauntlets slamming into Grimmers with lethal precision. Each time he appeared, another enemy was brained by his fists.


    Sable¡¯s wires gleamed in the dim light, trapping the Abyssal infected man on the ground as she tried to lash as many Grimmers together as possible. Her dagger ripped the throats of any that got too close. The transformed man thrashed on the ground, howling against his restraints.


    But Urgar had cracked.


    ¡°Too many! Too many!¡± Urgar¡¯s voice was shrill as he pressed against a wall. His eyes were wide with terror. The dwarf was stumbling around as he searched for an escape. ¡°We¡¯re going to die!¡±


    Mitch saw the fear in his eyes, the breaking point. All human emotion had been pressed into his Devoid Skill. He saw a liability¨Ca weakness. And in Mitch¡¯s current state, he couldn¡¯t afford weaknesses. The squad needed Urgar to ignite his berserker skill.


    A cold, calculated decision formed in his mind.


    He kicked off and ran towards Urgar.


    The horde of Grimmers swarmed between them, bodies piling on top of each other as they lunged for Mitch. He swung his sword in savage arcs, cutting down the twisted people in front of him. As he ran, he siphoned the fallen bodies and souls within him. Blood splattered across his face as each swing severed limbs, but the sheer number of them was overwhelming. He slashed, stabbed, and swung. Slicing bone and splitting bodies apart.


    A larger Grimmer, saggy and hulkling, lunged at him from the side. Its short sword swiped across Mitch¡¯s torso, slashing deep into his ribs. Pain seared as he felt the muscle split open.


    Thankfully, Agony¡¯s Embrace responded, feeding power into him as he twisted his sword into the large Grimmers chest and out its back. With a shoulder check, he shoved the Grimmer off.


    The injury burned, blood soaking his body, but the Shadowshroud refused to take any of its owner''s flesh in. It clung to him, growling to be let out, almost angry that it didn¡¯t provide more protection. For now, it was immaterial blackness that merely shrouded Mitch, melding back into the shape of a shirt regardless of the slashes it took.


    Mitch clenched his jaw and reached into the Abyssal Vault as he ran. Flesh flowed into the deep wound, knitting the torn skin and bone back together.


    Finally, he reached Urgar. The dwarf was still pressed against the wall. Surrounded by Grimmers, paralyzed by fear.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    Without a lick of hesitation, Mitch grabbed the dwarf by his metal collar and shoved him forward into the horde. ¡°Now or never, Urgar,¡± Mitch¡¯s voice was ice to his own ears, the absence of emotions from his Devoid Skill leeching all feeling.


    For a brief second, as he finished the shove, a piece of guilt clawed at the edges of his mind. Devoid swallowed it whole, leaving only cold certainty.


    The horde swallowed Urgar in seconds, their twisted limbs reaching and beginning to tear apart the dwarf¡¯s armor. Panic flashed in Urgar¡¯s eyes, but before the Grimmers could crack his metal shell of plate, a primal roar erupted from the dwarf¡¯s throat.


    A wave of fiery energy burst out from Urgar¡¯s body, igniting the air around him. His berserk Skill, Forgeheart, flared to life. The immediately surrounding Grimmers were lit ablaze as Urgar¡¯s skill engulfed them. Burnt meat filled the air, sending smoke billowing.


    Urgar¡¯s muscles swelled, veins glowing with molten heat as his axe ignited in searing flames. With a furious swing, he screamed and cleaved through the Grimmers that surrounded him, his body a whirlwind of steel and fire.


    See? It was a good idea.


    The horde pressed into him, his body taking lashes, but Urgar¡¯s rage only intensified. He cut down Grimmers with a fiery vengeance, blood leaking onto the floor. His axe left scorched bodies and severed limbs in its wake.


    Mitch stepped back, eyes cold and calculating as he watched the dwarf tear through the horde. Urgar was taking a lot of damage from the onslaught, but ignored it in his berserker state. Flames roared higher, incinerating them as his axe swung in wide, lethal arcs.


    Warrick phased into existence besides Mitch. The orc¡¯s spiked gauntlets were covered in viscera, dripping blood. He glanced at the carnage, then at Mitch, his voice a deep, rumbling judgment. ¡°That was cold.¡±


    Mitch¡¯s face was emotionless, guilt subjugated into his Devoid lockbox. ¡°He wasn¡¯t going to make it without a push.¡±


    Warrick stared at him for a moment, judging, before grunting and phasing out again. The orc''s judgement hung in the air as Urgar¡¯s flames raged on. Even though Urgar¡¯s fighting was endless, and he was covered in wounds, Mitch had a feeling the dwarf would be fine. Mostly.


    It worked, didn¡¯t it?


    Mitch turned, spotting Sable across the cavern. She had the mutated Abyssal-infected man pinned to the ground. Her metal wires coiled tightly around him, trapping him like a beast, but unable to kill him outright. Her face was tight with concentration, body straining against the man¡¯s thrashing.


    Mitch rushed over, leaping across the cavern as the horde thinned. The Grimmers were being cut down by Urgar¡¯s fiery wrath and Warrick¡¯s fists.


    As Mitch approached, the infected man¡¯s glowing eyes locked onto him, a sinister grin twisting his mutated face.


    ¡°Welcome back, boy,¡± the monster rasped, his voice dark and distorted.


    Mitch¡¯s grip tightened on the hilt of his Soul Sword, but instead of striking the monster down, he knelt besides the thrashing, mutated man. He leaned in close, cold eyes studying the writhing mass of flesh and metal.


    ¡°Tell me,¡± Mitch growled, his voice low and dangerous, ¡°Why am I tied to the Abyss? Why me?¡±


    The monster¡¯s eyes flickered, a dark grin spreading across its grotesque face, but it didn¡¯t answer.


    Mitch pressed the blade against the creature¡¯s chest, pushing it down until it screamed. He twisted the blade, feeling corrupted flesh yield beneath the dwarven steel. The Souls inside Mitch howled in excitement, feeding off the pain radiating from the creature. But the monster only barked back a laugh.


    ¡°That¡¯s all you have? You think what you do is worse than the Abyss and its methods?¡± it moaned through ragged breaths, its voice filled with madness.


    Mitch pressed harder, grinding the blade into its chest. ¡°Why do I have this debt?¡±


    The monster¡¯s laugh turned into a choking gasp as black blood bubbled forth from its mouth. But it still refused to answer. Its eyes shined with knowledge, lips curling into a taunting grin even in the face of death.


    ¡°Answer me.¡± Mitch¡¯s voice was ice.


    Sable, still holding the wires taut, glared at Mitch, her expression having shifted from grim determination to fear. The calm exterior she had built around herself faltered as she watched him toy with the monster.


    It was clear the creature wouldn¡¯t speak, and Mitch¡¯s expression darkened.


    ¡°If you won¡¯t answer, then you¡¯re no use to me,¡± he hissed.


    Without another word, he raised his sword high and brought it down in a powerful arc. The Soul Sword sliced effortlessly through wire, flesh, and bone. Mutated head severed in one swift stroke.


    Everything was still. Bodies littered the ground, blood soaking cracked stone.


    Sable¡¯s multi-colored eyes lingered on Mitch. She had seen something in him. Something dark, and detached. She didn¡¯t speak as she let the wires she had cast loosen.


    Warrick¡¯s deep voice cut through the stillness. ¡°Guys! Urgar¡¯s down!¡±


    Mitch turned, his attention shifting to where Urgar¡¯s form lay atop a pile of slain Grimmer bodies. The dwarf¡¯s berserker rage had finally ceased, the Skill sputtering out. He panted heavily, his body covered in slashes and burns. Some part of Mitch was happy that Urgar had survived, but the unnatural coldness of Devoid won.


    He will live. Good.


    Sable rushed past him, her eyes flashing with a mix of frustration and urgency. ¡°You cold bastard¡­¡± she muttered under her breath. Barely audible, but Mitch caught it. She knelt beside Urgar, pressing sewn together hands against burned skin, her focus entirely on the dwarf.


    ¡°Urgar, stay with me,¡± Sable''s voice cracked as she pulled a vial from her pouch, applying the liquid to the worst of his wounds.


    Mitch took a breath, then looked down at the decapitated body at his feet. The hunger that tickled his brain, the pull of the Shadowshroud, demanded its prize. It gnawed at him, begging to be let loose.


    Mitch closed his eyes, and prodded the Shadowshroud to feast.


    A savage howl, like a starved dog, rang out in the cavern. The clinical emotion Mitch felt kept his eyes locked onto the process.

 Chapter 13: Clean Up Crew

    The Shadowshroud peeled itself from his body, forming into a writhing mass of inky tendrils. One thin, black ribbon remained latched onto Mitch¡¯s body, always keeping a permanent connection like an implanted dog leash. He could feel it, tugging at where his liver was. It stuck to him, permanently connected to his body.


    It stopped for a moment in the air, a single large, pupil-less eye forming at the center of its small mass. Wiggling erratically in the air, it floated amongst reaching tendrils, staring at the flesh it was about to consume. Taking its time, the tendrils spread out, twitching in anticipation before diving into the mutilated corpse.


    Giant black pom pom with an eyeball. Add a healthy splash of demon.


    Like a hungry dog, the Shadowshroud zipped toward the Abyssal-infected man and latched onto it, eye first. Mitch could see a tiny, razor-tooth mouth latch onto the cursed flesh and begin to gnaw. Sickening sounds filled the air as the shroud ate the flesh. It wasn¡¯t quick or clean; it was messy, tearing muscle from bone, making squelching noises as it feasted.


    The sight of it would have made anyone nauseous, but Mitch just stood there. Emotionless and watching the disgusting display in morbid curiosity. He bent down and reached out with his Abyssal Vault, claiming the soul before it was lost.


    The body might be the Shadowshroud''s, but the monster¡¯s soul was his.


    Settlement Amount: 37(+1) Souls, 0 Credits, 28 Flesh


    The soul flowed out of the monster¡¯s body like a twisted black bolt, frenzied and chaotic as it funneled into Mitch¡¯s core. It was smaller than the others, and felt damaged, yet far more vicious. The Souls already imprisoned within, even the Grimmer souls, roared in unison, trying to subdue their new violent roommate.


    He gritted his teeth as he finally let himself feel his strength surging. The damage he had sustained from the fight had knit itself permanently into his body.


    Urgar groaned, coming to as he sat up behind Mitch, battered and bloodied from his berserk fueled fight. He wiped soot and blood from his face with the back of his hand and grimaced as he caught sight of the bodies he lay upon. The dwarf¡¯s eyes cleared and settled on Mitch, ¡°Ugh,¡± he grumbled. ¡°Thank ye, you cold bastard. I knew I had it in me.¡± Urgar¡¯s face split into a small grin.


    Mitch stood there, watching the Shadowshroud devour the corpse. He glanced over his shoulder at Urgar, his expression unchanging. ¡°You were breaking, Urgar,¡± Mitch replied coldly, though his voice held no malice¨Cjust fact. ¡°You needed to be pushed.¡±


    Urgar raised an eyebrow, his grin faltering for a moment before he let out a bark of laughter. ¡°Aye, that I did. Still,¡± he winced, rubbing his side, ¡°could¡¯ve given me more warning.¡±


    Mith didn¡¯t respond. His focus was drawn back to the Shadowshroud, still gnawing messily at the Abyssal-infected body. Urgar followed his gaze, watching the writhing black mass with a mix of fascination and disgust. ¡°That thing¡­¡± the dwarf muttered, ¡°needs a name.¡±


    Mitch¡¯s eyes lingered on the shadowy tendrils, still latched onto him like a vicious pet tethered to its master. It had begun to morph as it fed, tendrils twisting and coiling. Its shape grew more defined. The vague form of a tiny hound emerged from the black mass. It gnawed furiously at the corpse with its tooth-filled muzzle.


    The disgusting sounds continued, as the Shadowshroud tore into the remaining flesh. Bone cracked and splintered beneath its relentless hunger. Slowly, it started to drag itself back towards Mitch, exhausted but satisfied from its feeding. He could feel it grumbling happily in his mind.


    Definitely dog-like.


    ¡°Rex,¡± Mitch said as the Shroud latched back onto him, its tendrils wrapping around his torse once more. It clung to his body, thicker now, the material stretching down his arms like a long-sleeved swirling black shirt. Rex was a weight against his skin. He was heavier and much more substantial than before.


    Are you going to keep getting stronger the more you¡¯re fed, Rex? Mitch felt Rex send affirmation to his mind.


    Urgar chuckled through a wince of pain. ¡°Rex. A fitting name for a beast like that.¡±


    But Mitch¡¯s mind wasn¡¯t at ease any longer. The cracks in his Devoid began to grow wider, and the weight of what he had done¨Cthrowing Urgar into the fray without hesitation¨Cchipped at him. He felt the guilt seeping in, despite the cold indifference that had shielded him during the battle.


    He looked frantically at Urgar, who was still recovering, his body scorched and scarred. And Sable¡­her glare was hard to ignore.


    ¡°Back with us? You threw him into that mess like a sheep for slaughter,¡± she snapped coldly, her voice cutting through the moment. She glared daggers at Mitch as she applied ointment to Urgar¡¯s burns. Warrick stood off to the side, looking troubled. ¡°Do you even realize what you did?¡±


    Mitch¡¯s real emotions flickered through the cracks in Devoid. He had treated Urgar like a disposable pawn. A tool for survival. It hadn''t bothered him at the time, but now, the weight of it felt unbearable.


    Mitch closed his eyes, feeling the souls within him shift. Restless. Wanting to push forward again.


    Who am I becoming? Is this what I have to do to beat this?


    Swallowing hard, Mitch felt the cold indifference of Devoid cracking further. He took a slow, deliberate breath, the weight of his actions pressing down on him. ¡°Urgar, I¨C¡± he started, his voice low and strained, but Sable cut him off with a sharp glare.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare apologize,¡± she hissed, her multi-colored eyes blazing. She pulled away from tending to Urgar, her movements rough and agitated. ¡°You used him like he was nothing. Like a tool.¡±


    Mitch¡¯s gaze dropped, guilt twisting inside him. He wanted to explain himself, to justify what he had done, but the words wouldn¡¯t come. The certainty he¡¯d felt during the battle was slipping away.


    Sable shook her head in disgust, turning her back on him as she stomped away. ¡°Just clean up your mess, barback,¡± she spat over her shoulder, her tone venomous. ¡°It¡¯s what you know best, anyways.¡±


    Warrick¡¯s face was unreadable, his posture tense as he watched.


    Mitch stepped closed to Urgar, ignoring the way his chest tightened. ¡°Can you stand?¡± he asked quietly, tone regretful.


    Urgar winced, but managed a half-smile, ¡°Aye, I¡¯ll live. Seen worse, believe it or not.¡± He tried to chuckle, but it came out as a pained wheeze. Mitch bent down, carefully lifting the battered dwarf off the pile of Grimmer bodies. Urgar was much heavier than he expected.


    Warrick, standing a few paces away, spoke with a gruff calmness that belief the tension in his gaze. ¡°You know,¡± he said, voice measured, ¡°there¡¯s more than one kind of beast in this place.¡± His eyes flickered to Mitch. ¡°And not all of them try to kill you. Right away, at least.¡±


    Mitch felt a flush of anger at Warrick¡¯s words, but he swallowed it.


    I deserved that. Deserve worse.


    ¡°We need to keep moving,¡± Sable said sharply, voice breaking the uncomfortable silence. She had already moved ahead, scanning the darkened passageways with impatience. ¡°Can Urgar walk?¡±


    The dwarf, on his feet with Mitch¡¯s help, gave a weary nod. ¡°I¡¯ll manage,¡± he said, as he leaned heavily on Mitch. ¡°Worked out, didn''t it?¡± His smile was weak, but looked genuine.


    Mitch nodded back, but it felt hollow.


    ¡°Good,¡± Sable said, her tone clipped. ¡°Then let¡¯s go. We¡¯re wasting time.¡± She glanced over her shoulder, eyes narrowing as they locked onto Mitch. ¡°And while you¡¯re at it¡­clean up the bodies, like the beast you seem to want to be. You made this mess¡­at least deal with it.¡±


    Mitch¡¯s jaw clenched, a flare of anger sparking in his chest, but he bit back a retort. The squad walked ahead, Urgar leaning on Warrick, as he knelt in front of the piles of bodies.


    She was right, in a way. He had chosen his path, for better or worse. The notification from Devoid upgraded settled the matter.


    Affliction Skill Upgraded


    Devoid


    Level 3


    Lock away undesired emotions and thoughts. Feel only what you wish.


    + Your sacrifices are rewarded with power.


    All emotions and thoughts must be addressed eventually.


    Rewarded with power?... I¡¯m rewarded? They are?


    As he siphoned the remaining flesh into his Abyssal Vault, most of the bodies were empty¨Cno souls left to claim. Only twisted ruined shells.


    ¡°Most of them are gone,¡± he muttered to himself, but it was loud enough for Warrick to hear. The orc¡¯s expression softened, understanding coming over his face as he saw Mitch siphon flesh.


    Settlement Amount: 37 Souls, 0 Credits, 109(+81) Flesh


    His body felt stronger, heavier the weight of his Afflictions growing. From that fight alone, he knew he had gained serious strength from Agony¡¯s Embrace, and the strength from the collected souls.


    He was surprised that he hadn¡¯t received another upgrade for Abyssal Vault as well. From the cavern fight, he had gained two levels in Devoid, and just one in Abyssal Vault. He wondered and hoped he would receive more, as well as for the right opportunity to test his Dominion of Shadows. The fact that Rex was well fed and upgraded was welcome, but Mitch still wanted more.


    I need something that¡¯s more explosive. How do I get more Skills?


    Once he was finished siphoning the flesh of the fallen Grimmers around him, he followed the squad into the tunnel they traveled down. They discussed which way to travel down the splitting passageway.


    Sable¡¯s gaze was cold as he approached, but she said nothing more. ¡°Which way?¡± Mitch asked, his voice level.


    ¡°Forward,¡± she answered tersely, nodding to the path ahead. Warrick opened his mouth, likely to suggest retreating, but she raised a hand to stop him.


    ¡°We can¡¯t go back,¡± Sable said firmly, though her voice carried an edge of strain. ¡°Not yet. We¡¯re sitting targets here. If more Grimmers come, we¡¯re dead. And if we turn back now, we¡¯ll leave with nothing to show for the fight, no results, no progress¡ªjust a beaten-up dwarf and a bigger mess waiting for us. Crae will lose it.¡±


    Warrick folded his arms, frowning. ¡°And what happens if Urgar doesn¡¯t hold up?¡±


    ¡°We move forward until we know,¡± Sable replied, her gaze flicking to Urgar¡¯s battered form. Her voice softened, just slightly, as she added, ¡°If he can¡¯t keep going, we¡¯ll reassess. But for now, we keep going. We find a better position. Something we can work with. You know I¡¯m right.¡±


    The dwarf groaned from his spot, waving weakly. ¡°I¡¯m not dead yet,¡± he muttered, his words slurred. ¡°I¡¯ll walk. Just¡­might need a hand.¡±


    Sable¡¯s lips pressed. Her exhaustion showed in the slump of her shoulders, but her tone stayed resolute. ¡°Good. We¡¯ll get to the next point, regroup, and make the call then. Standing here arguing isn¡¯t going to fix anything.¡±


    She turned away, brushing past Mitch as she gestured for the group to follow. ¡°Unless you¡¯d rather stay here and take bets on how long it takes for the next swarm to find us.¡±


    Her steps were brisk, her back straight, though Mitch noticed the twitch of her hands. The leader mask was still in place, but cracks were beginning to show.


    Deeper into the Depths and Abyss they traveled. Mitch found it strange that she was determined to go forward, even with Urgar injured.


    Mitch and Warrick switched out aiding Urgar limp along. The orc was a silent presence amidst the shadows.


    As they moved, the echoes of their footsteps stretched endlessly. Mitch¡¯s mind whirled with the consequences of his actions. Rex, now fully settled after his meal, sat on Mitch¡¯s torso like a long sleeve shirt. The beast let out a satisfied hum in the back of his mind at his meal, but to Mitch, it felt as if he relished the tension.


    Mitch knew one thing, despite his guilt. Whatever lay ahead, he couldn¡¯t afford to hesitate. Not anymore.


    In the distance, Mitch could hear the groaning of rocks, and something else. A light scratching sound wound its way towards them as they traveled on. At first, he wasn¡¯t sure if he was hearing ghosts or if his mind was playing tricks on him.


    The sound persisted as they traveled deeper. Something about the noise rubbed Mitch the wrong way, setting him on edge.


    ¡°Is that someone scribbling on parchment?¡± Warrick asked, gazing down the tunnel.

 Chapter 14: Soul & Steal

    The sound and feeling of repeating bumps woke him to a world of pain. Everything hurt, and Hathgar whimpered from his broken nose that screamed in pain as he tried to get a good breath in.


    His body felt like it had been beaten for hours, and then beaten some more. Every inch of him was bruised through. His labored heartbeat pounded in his head, which was already filled with a splitting headache.


    He lay in a heap on top of something cold. He shivered, even though he could barely move. The air around him bit into his skin. Hadn¡¯t he been wearing clothes?


    Where the fook are me clothes?


    His eyes were swollen shut, and he could barely see around him. Green light filtered into his vision as he tried to make out his surroundings. He was moving. Lying on something. Was someone pushing him on a trolley? All he heard was his own heartbeat pulsing in his head and the constant clunking of the floor beams beneath him.


    Where the bloody fook am I?


    He had been walking out of Shadowreach, starting his long trek back to Stonehollow. Someone¡­no¡­something had stepped into his path.


    There had been a fight. They were so strong. Hathgar had blacked out, after thinking he was going to die. His only fighting Skill, Steel Skin, handed down for generations amongst his clan, had been useless when met with such power.


    Had to be born a son of the fookin¡¯ head a¡¯ blacksmithing.


    The trolley jolted, and Hathgar felt the world shake around him. He moaned softly, the sound barely a whisper. The cold surface under him felt like death itself, draining what little strength he had remaining.


    Hathgar¡¯s broken body twitched, but nothing more.


    ¡°Ah, finally awake, are we?¡± A thick, greasy voice broke through the sound of the trolley. The voice was amused, almost playful. Hathgar¡¯s head lolled to the side, but his vision remained blurred. All he could make out was a hulking figure. A fat slob of a man with small features, wearing what appeared to be a butcher¡¯s apron stained with blood. The piggish face leaned in and Hathgar smelled his rancid breath, almost making him gag. ¡°Good stock. You¡¯ll last longer than most, then.¡±


    Hathgar moaned, trying to shift. The pain he felt over every inch held him prisoner on the trolley. The butcher snorted, straightening up and continuing to push Hathgar down the dimly lit passageway.


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to talk, little dwarf,¡± he jeered. ¡°Not that it¡¯ll matter, anyways.¡±


    The trolley came to a halt with a final clunk. Hathgar was shoved off, body hitting the ground hard. Pain seared through him as his broken body hurt from supporting its own weight. The cold stone made him shiver even more violently.


    ¡°Pile? Or right away?¡± the butcher asked, stepping back. Hathgar could hear his labored breathing as he moved, but another sound made him shudder¨Ca sickening dragging noise. Flesh being scraped across stone.


    As Hathgar¡¯s swollen eyes opened again, he saw it. A heap of bodies. Broken and beaten people of all races, some gasping in pain, others eerily still. The stench of blood, shit, and rot filled the air.


    His heart sank as he was dragged. His battered body scraped across the jagged rock by a much thinner figure that had appeared.


    This one was tall, unnaturally so, as if his limbs had been stretched. His fingers were bony, and his face was a mask of calm, clinical detachment.


    The man hummed quietly to himself as he dragged Hathgar¡¯s near-lifeless form towards a spot on the floor. Each pull sent waves of pain through Hathgar¡¯s body, stone and something else digging into his wounds. The unmistakable scent of ammonia and urine filled his senses.


    Are those teeth on the floor? And a lot of piss.


    ¡°Right away, this is a good one,¡± the thin man rasped, more to himself than to the butcher. ¡°Strong. Should hold up nicely.¡±


    Hathgar¡¯s vision blurred as he was left on the floor. His mind reeled from the pain. He tried to speak, but only a strained moan came out. He could barely move from the pain.


    The tall man laughed, his voice a soft, eerie chuckle. Hathgar¡¯s vision focused just enough to see, and caught sight of the other captures.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Around him there were more people. Elves, humans, dwarves, orcs. All floating. But they were surrounded by pulsating bubbles of dark purple energy.


    They screamed silently, their mouths open in agony, but no sound reached him. They were frail, withered, and sleepless. Countless lacerations covered their bodies, slowly leaking down and pooling. Trapped at the bottom of the purple pods.


    Hathgar¡¯s heart dropped as he saw glass jars floating next to the pods. The jars were filled with orbed light. Each prisoner¡¯s was a different color. Some shone brilliant white, most were tainted with inky soot. A similarly colored tendril trailed out, straight through the glass, and then through the pods. Each leash was connected to the prisoner¡¯s sternum, straight through their skin into flesh. Black sludge speckled the strings, like festering, rotting sludge.


    Fook me. Bloody soul magics.


    It appeared that Hathgar was next.


    ¡°What¡­what is this?¡± Hathgar croaked through broken teeth, his voice barely a whisper. ¡°What do you want with me?¡±


    The tall man didn¡¯t answer, just smiled and hummed as he set a knife near a pod that held an elf. Then, he stepped back, and Hathgar saw another man, a half-orc.


    A red ring glinted in the sickly light on the man¡¯s finger. Hathgar immediately saw it, and the notebook he carried.


    Red ring. Go fookin¡¯ figure.


    He stood there, watching the pods with prisoners with cold, detached, terrifying calmness.


    ¡°You won¡¯t be heard, dwarf,¡± the man said, his voice measured and clinical. ¡°There¡¯s nothing you can do. No one is coming. You¡¯re here,¡± he gestured in the cramped room filled with silently screaming prisoners, ¡°for as long as you last.¡±


    Hathar tried to struggle, but his body wouldn¡¯t budge. His mind swirled in panic, but the half-orc continued, his tone unemotional. ¡°We don¡¯t need you alive, not for long anyways. If you don¡¯t last that long, well¡­let¡¯s just say I¡¯ll make a note of it here.¡±


    The man with the ring leaned closer, his dark eyes boring into Hathgar¡¯s. ¡°And when your soul is finally released into the lower depths of the Abyss, what waits for you there will make this¡­¡± he gestured to the other tortured captives, ¡°seem merciful.¡±


    Hathgar¡¯s heart raced, the fear rising in his chest.. His body remained limp and weak. ¡°What¡­are you doing here? Why?¡± he choked out.


    The ringed man didn¡¯t answer. He merely gestured to the thin, tall man, who grinned wickedly as he pulled out a small black knife from his robes. He leaned forward and pricked it into Hathgar¡¯s sternum, the blade slicing easily through his skin.


    Pain exploded through Hathgar¡¯s body as the man began to carve, but it wasn¡¯t just physical pain. It was deeper.


    The man¡¯s long fingers bored into the cut, and with a sickening tug, Hathgar felt something being pulled from within him. His soul.


    A glowing, brilliant white tendril of Hathgar¡¯s soul emerged, pulsating, and the tall man¡¯s yellow eyes gleamed with excitement. ¡°Perfect for Grimlace,¡± he whispered, his voice trembling with delight.


    Hathgar screamed, but it was cut off by a choking gasp as the tall man placed his soul into a black glass jar. With a toss, the jar floated next to Hathgar.


    His vision swam, the pain unbearable, but through the haze, he saw the elf across from him. Her body was covered in cuts, her soul tendril leaking black sludge.


    With a thin knife, the man scraped the black sludge off of her soul tendril, collecting it like a prize. The woman¡¯s screams were refreshed anew, but no sound passed through her energy cage.


    ¡°Perfect, have fun,¡± the tall man attending to him said as he pulled his hand back. The man with the ring waved his hand, and the same bubble of Abyssal energy surrounded Hathgar. He was forced to a hover.


    The outside world was cut off. Hathgar only heard his labored breathing as he was forced to watch the other prisoner¡¯s pain. The tall man walked off, onto his other subjects. The man with the ring watched him for one moment, and then opened his notebook and left, immediately taking notes.


    Then the cutting began.


    From nowhere, Hathgar felt small cuts lacerate his body. He couldn¡¯t tell if the cuts were real, or if the pain was implanted into his mind. Fiery scratches he could feel everywhere. He screamed in his pod, but kept a fragment of his mind.


    I''m fooked.


    Hathgar¡¯s Steel Skin, the pride of his clan, did nothing to protect him as the invisible knives carved into him again and again. The pain was unlike anything he¡¯d ever felt. His body was on fire, and his mind was tearing at the edges. Every nerve screamed in agony.


    Hathgar grasped the shreds of sanity he felt, and focused on a single thought.


    I will not give into fooking soul magic.


    In the darkness of his pain, he felt something stir. His Steel Skin might be useless to this magic, but something began to shift. Through the torture, Hathgar was aware enough to read the notification.


    Steel Skin Modified


    Steel Skin -> Abyssal Wrought Iron Skin


    Abyssal Wrought Iron Skin


    Level 1


    Defensive Aspect


    Absorb and store blows, allowing fluid movement and control of flesh.


    Offensive Aspect


    Forge weapons out of flesh.


    A small smile creeped on his face. A plan began to develop in his mind.


    This¡­I can work with this.

 Chapter 15: No Rest for the Wicked

    The caverns stretched on, endless and winding and constantly sloped downward. The moist stench of rot clung to the thick air. The squad had been traveling for hours, down the branching tunnels that Sable seemed to choose at random.


    From the start, Mitch heard it¨Cthe faint, irritating sound of scratching. At first, they thought it was a phantom noise, but no, it was real. The scratching was there, a constant reminder of something unseen lurking. Like someone scribbling on parchment, the noise followed them at every turn.


    What is that?


    Mitch¡¯s steps were heavy as he half-carried, half-guided Urgar along, the dwarf¡¯s weight leaning into him. Urgar winced with every hobble.


    ¡°Don¡¯t know how you¡¯re healing, but you best keep that to yourself, boy,¡± the dwarf muttered lowly, more out of habit than real concern. His voice was strained, a grim reminder that the wounds he carried were severe. Far worse than Urgar was letting on.


    Mitch didn¡¯t reply. Sable and Warrick didn¡¯t say anything, but he knew they wondered how he was able to heal himself with Flesh that he collected.


    He also noticed Urgar¡¯s wounds knitting themselves faster than they should. Too fast for someone without a healing ability like Mitch. Warrick noticed too¨CMitch caught the quiet orc glancing at Urgar¡¯s closing wounds with suspicion.


    But Mitch kept silent. Whatever it was, they still needed to keep moving.


    Sable led the way with a relentless pace. She hadn¡¯t slowed, despite Urgar¡¯s obvious injuries. She refused to stop, even when the tunnel twisted into bizarre, unnatural shapes. Or when the walls narrowed so much that Mitch had to angle his shoulders to squeeze through. Her eyes darted along the cavern walls, her hands tightly gripping a map. To Mitch¡¯s eye, it was becoming more useless with every step.


    Occasionally, she would pause to inspect the creatures scurrying along the cracked stone walls¨CAbyssal bugs, their hard black shells glinting in the faint green light. They were like living shadows, crawling in and out of unseen cracks. Disappearing into the dark as quickly as they appeared. A constant reminder that they were in the Abyss.


    Warrick grumbled from the back. ¡°We¡¯ve been walking for hours. We need to rest. At this rate, we¡¯ll never find the Abyssal Hag, much less the way back.¡±


    Mitch had to agree. His muscles ached from carrying Urgar, and the pressing weight of the Abyss seemed to close in tighter with every breath. The cold, damp air clung to his skin like a curse, and the constant scratching noise only made it worse.


    Sable didn¡¯t respond. She kept moving forward, constantly checking the map that clearly wasn¡¯t of any use.


    Frantic.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t right. Where are the markings? There¡¯s no markings.¡± Sable said to herself as she set off down yet another endless tunnel, searching for any sign they were headed in the right direction.


    ¡°Haven¡¯t seen a blasted marking yet, Sable.¡± Urgar grumbled while limping.


    Mitch could see the visible tension in her stance. ¡°You know as well as I do the markings left behind by the Masked Lord and his army are the best way to navigate these tunnels,¡± Sable said through clenched teeth while squinting to scan the map.


    ¡°Then where are they?¡± Warrick remarked, unease leaking into his typically stoic canter.


    Urgar was nearing his limit. The dwarf¡¯s voice was rough and tired, ¡°We¡¯re proper lost, ain¡¯t we?¡±


    Mitch didn¡¯t say anything, but Warrick gave a low, rumbling laugh from the rear. ¡°It¡¯s looking that way.¡±


    Sable¡¯s head whipped around, her multi-colored eyes wide and flashing in the dim light. ¡°We are not lost,¡± she snapped, voice tight. ¡°We just¡­need to keep moving. We¡¯re close. We have to be close to a marking.¡±


    Mitch wasn¡¯t convinced. The scratching sound grew louder in the stillness, gnawing at his nerves. It was like something followed them, scribbling incessantly on parchment just behind the next bend, but whenever he turned the corner, there was nothing. Only the dark.


    Urgar coughed, leaning harder into Mitch. ¡°If we keep going at this pace¡­¡± he wheezed. ¡°I¡¯m strong, but¡­not that strong.¡±


    Sable glanced back at him, her expression conflicted. For a moment, Mitch saw the frantic determination in her eyes falter. She looked down at the map again, then up at the dark tunnel ahead, her lips pressed into a thin line.


    ¡°Fine,¡± she conceded, her frustration leaking through. ¡°We¡¯ll rest. Sleep. First thing after you get some rest, we move.¡±


    She moved ahead, scouting the tunnel wall until she found a small hallowed-out section. It looked like it had been chipped away by something long ago. Miners, perhaps. Or something worse. Either way, it was large enough for them to settle into.


    Mitch helped Urgar down, easing him into a seated position against the wall. The dwarf winced as his back hit the stone.


    ¡°Aye, how I wish that health potions were real,¡± Urgar muttered again, his voice a rasp. ¡°Don¡¯t I wish I had a healing Skill like you, lad.¡±


    Mitch was more concerned with the fact that Urgar was healing unnaturally fast. There was something about it that gnawed at the back of his mind, but he pushed it aside for now.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    The cavern settled into a tense quiet as the group made camp. Each member was weighed down by exhaustion and the oppressive dark around them. The scratching noise had finally faded into the background, yet it lingered in Mitch¡¯s mind like a haunting echo.


    Sable glanced at the group before turning to Mitch, her expression cold and commanding. ¡°First watch,¡± she said, nodding down the tunnels where the shadows twisted. ¡°Make sure we¡¯re alone.¡±


    Mitch gave a curt nod and stepped away from the others, moving slowly down the rocky corridor.


    The scratching returned, faint but insistent, as if the Abyss itself refused to let him forget it was watching. His footsteps echoed softly as he walked alone through the tunnel.


    Behind him, he heard light footsteps approaching.


    ¡°Wait,¡± Sable called, catching up with him.


    Mitch slowed but didn¡¯t turn completely. ¡°What is it?¡± he asked her.


    Sable stopped a few steps from him, her different colored eyes hard to read. She hesitated, and crossed her arms defensively. ¡°I wanted to talk,¡± she said finally. ¡°About earlier.¡±


    Mitch raised an eyebrow. ¡°What about it?¡±


    Her gaze dropped, and for a moment, she looked less like the confident leader she tried to project and more like someone carrying a heavy weight. ¡°I was wrong to lash out,¡± she admitted. ¡°I know why you did what you did with Urgar. It was the right call.¡±


    Mitch¡¯s stance softened slightly. ¡°Doesn¡¯t mean it was easy,¡± he said after a pause. ¡°I didn¡¯t like doing it.¡±


    She nodded, fingers tightening around her arms. ¡°I know. That¡¯s why it worked. If you hesitated, there¡¯s a good chance we might be dead.¡± She took a small step closer. ¡°I¡¯ve been trying to lead, to¡­push forward and do what needs to be done¡­¡± She faltered. ¡°Sometimes it feels like I¡¯m barely holding it together. Pretending, and it¡¯s exhausting.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not pretending,¡± he said firmly. ¡°It¡¯s not easy, but you¡¯re here, I¡¯m here, Urgar and Warrick too. You¡¯re still leading.¡±


    Sable let out a shaky breath, shoulders loosening. ¡°And what about you? How do you do it? You act like none of this gets to you.¡±


    ¡°It does get to me,¡± Mitch said simply. He hesitated, glancing down at his feet before meeting her eyes. ¡°I know what it¡¯s like to wear a mask. To pretend you¡¯re fine because it¡¯s what people need from you.¡± His voice dropped. ¡°Before I came here, I learned to slip into the role people expected. It was survival. A cold comfort, but it works. Works for a while, anyways.¡±


    The walls she kept up cracked a little bit further. ¡°That¡¯s what you think I¡¯m doing? Wearing a mask?¡±


    ¡°I think you¡¯re doing your best,¡± Mitch said. His tone softened, and he took a small step closer. ¡°You don¡¯t have to do this alone, you know. Whatever you¡¯re really doing with Crae¡¯s. I know you think you have to, but¡­¡±


    Sable¡¯s eyes lingered on him. ¡°You¡¯re not what I expected, barback,¡± she said finally, her voice carrying warmth beneath her exhaustion.


    Mitch smirked. ¡°That a compliment?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t push it,¡± she muttered, though the edge in her voice was softened with amusement. She hesitated again. ¡°That thing, back there¨Cthe Abyssal man? What it said about me¡­you know about Patchling souls?¡±


    Mitch¡¯s expression grew more serious. ¡°Yeah, I do.¡±


    She looked away, her jaw tightening. ¡°Then you know what people think of me. What I am.¡± Her voice grew quieter, laced with bitterness. ¡°Not even a real person. Just¡­scraps. Whatever was left.¡±


    Mitch frowned, stepping closer. ¡°You¡¯re not just scraps, Sable.¡±


    Her gaze snapped back to him. ¡°You don¡¯t understand. My soul is gone, Mitch. I don¡¯t even know where it is. If it even still exists. What does that make me? A husk pretending to be something I¡¯m not?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not a husk,¡± Mitch said, his voice gentle but firm. ¡°And you¡¯re not defined by what you think you¡¯ve lost. You¡¯re more than people think, more than what the Abyss thinks you are too.¡±


    She stared at him, lips parting as if to argue, but the words didn¡¯t come. Instead, she took a slow breath. ¡°You really believe that?¡± she asked quietly.


    ¡°I do,¡± Mitch said without hesitation. ¡°You¡¯re not what¡¯s happened to you, Sable. You¡¯re not just what people see, or what the Abyss says. You¡¯re you. And that¡¯s enough.¡±


    Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, her gaze searching his face. ¡°You make it sound so simple.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not,¡± he admitted. ¡°But it¡¯s still true.¡±


    A silence settled between them, heavy but not uncomfortable. ¡°You¡¯re not what I expected, Mitch.¡±


    ¡°Still not sure if that¡¯s a compliment,¡± he teased, his voice carrying a low, amused tone.


    ¡°I like your hair? Sure the white locks get lots of compliments,¡± Sable laughed finally. It warmed him in the cold, dark tunnel.


    ¡°I like you too,¡± he shot back without hesitation, lips twitching into a grin, the banter slipping out before he could stop it.


    She froze for a fraction, her cheeks tinting slightly as her eyes rolled. Her expression shifted into a wry smile. ¡°You¡¯re impossible.¡±


    ¡°I try,¡± Mitch replied, his grin turning cocky. He leaned in just slightly, lowering his voice. ¡°You know, you could just admit you like me too. Save us both a lot of time.¡±


    Her laugh was soft but genuine. ¡°Don¡¯t get ahead of yourself, barback,¡± she said, turning abruptly on her heel. But her pace slowed as she walked away, as if waiting for him to follow.


    Mitch chuckled under his breath, ¡°Guess I¡¯ll take watch, then,¡± he called after her.


    ¡°Guess you will,¡± Sable replied, her voice light. Mitch caught the subtle sway in her hips as she disappeared back toward the camp.


    He stood there for a moment longer, letting the last of their exchange settle in his chest.


    Even if he hadn¡¯t been forced into this body, he would have liked Sable if he¡¯d met her on Earth. He just wouldn¡¯t had the guts to put himself out there.


    This can¡¯t be all bad.


    The warmth of the conversation lingered, but the familiar weight of the Abyss crept back in. Mitch shook his head, pulling his focus back to the task at hand. The dimly lit tunnels stretched endlessly in front of him, twisting into shadowy unknowns.


    The scratching sound tickled at the edge of his hearing again, faint but persistent.


    Right. Watch duty. I know how to do that. You watch.


    He moved deeper into the tunnel, the glowstone light flickering over rough walls as his footsteps echoed softly. The faint dampness in the air clung to his skin, the rot and mildew pressing heavier now that he was alone. Mitch kept his grip firm on the hilt of his Soul Sword, his senses sharp.


    Then he saw it¡ªa small, black shape darting across the ground ahead.

 Chapter 16: Snack Time

    A mouse.


    It was tiny, with fur that seemed more like a slick coat of oil than hair. The creature¡¯s eyes shone like pinpricks of silver, and it stared up at him, twitching. Assessing him carefully.


    Mitch knelt down and rummaged through his pouch, retrieving a piece of hardtack. He snapped a tiny piece off, and threw it to the mouse in an offering. It sniffed the air, then darted forward to snatch the food with its small, clawed paws.


    The mouse chewed quickly, darting its eyes from Mitch to the dark passage beyond. Mitch watched, amused as the creature scurried away.


    Mitch continued his watch in silent darkness. A few minutes later, the creature returned, this time with several friends trailing behind.


    Dozens of tiny eyes gleamed up at him in the dim light, each mouse a near-perfect shadow of the last. Mitch smirked, feeling a flicker of curiosity and mischief spark in his mind. Their movements were eerily synchronized, the faint rustle of their slick bodies unnervingly quiet in the echoing tunnel.


    Curiosity and mischief sparked in his mind, but it was tempered by unease. These weren¡¯t normal mice.


    He knelt, extending his fingers slowly. One brave creature crawled closer, its silver eyes locking onto his. The others twitched in anticipation, huddled in a semi-circle as though awaiting his next move. Mitch felt a strange pang¡ªkinship? Power? He couldn¡¯t place it.


    Alright, let¡¯s see how this works.


    He reached for his Affliction Skill, Dominion of Shadows, which offered control and authority over lesser Abyssal beings. Something clicked in his mind.


    A thin thread of influence settled over the mice, and he felt a slight tingle as their small wits bent to his. The notification confirmed it had worked.


    Affliction Skill


    Dominion of Shadows


    Level 1


    Exert control over lesser Abyssal beings. True obedience must be granted willingly.


    Usage of this skill may attract the attention of beings from the Abyss.


    Minions: 11 Abyssal Mice (+11 Abyssal Mice)


    The first mouse froze, its tiny mind bending to his will. One by one, the others followed. The connection snapped into place, faint but tangible, like spider silk threaded through his consciousness. They were his now.


    A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he tested its limits. He made multiple mice jump and scurry in little patterns as the others watched, twitching in anticipation. He gave the ones he influenced the same commands, feeling a strange satisfaction as they responded eagerly. Dustings of hardtack as rewards for the mice made the process even easier.


    A hiss, low and drawn, slithered through the dark like a warning bell.


    Mitch barely had time to tense before a massive coiled form shot out from the shadows with terrifying speed.


    A snake, matte black scales dark as night and eyes glowing with a sinister red light. It struck in a single, deadly flash. It was the size of an anaconda, thick as a tree. And so fast Mitch¡¯s eyes could barely follow.


    Minions: 10 Abyssal Mice (-1 Abyssal Mice)Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Its mouth opened and swallowed the first mouse whole. Mitch took a step back, adrenaline kicking in as the remaining mice scattered. They squealed in terror as his grasp of their minds slipped.


    Mitch reacted, and clamped down on their tiny minds with Dominion of Shadows. The panic ebbed as he threw it into Devoid. With a vicious tug, he redirected their movements back towards the snake.


    ¡°Hate snakes,¡± Mitch growled, watching the giant Abyssal Snake recoil, its head still poised to strike again. This time, it faced him.


    Mitch¡¯s fingers twitched. Dominion of Shadows flared like an unlit match struck against stone. The snake coiled tighter, its crimson eyes boring into him with an intelligence that felt wrong¨Ctoo sharp, too knowing.


    It striked to the side, devouring another mouse, its jaws snapping as it ate another mouse.


    Minions: 9 Abyssal Mice (-1 Abyssal Mice)


    He pushed Dominion of Shadows outward. His control stretched thin, a mental tether swiping at the snake¡¯s mind. The Skill hissed in response.


    ¡°Let¡¯s see how you like this,¡± he muttered, sweat beading on his temple.


    The snake twitched. For a heartbeat, it froze. It was different from the mice¡ªfar larger, far more complex. Its scales rippled as if trying to slough off invisible chains. No notification was sent his way.


    The brief connection shattered. Molten pain lanced through Mitch¡¯s head, and he stumbled backward. The snake snapped back to itself with a feral hiss, its burning gaze now locked on him.


    The snake struck, fangs flashing. Mitch barely twisted away in time. Its body flexed with renewed energy. Whatever Mitch had tried, it had pissed the thing off.


    Not a Lesser Abyssal being then. Dominion of Shadows is too weak. Mice it is.


    He gripped his empty Soul Sword, heart pounding as he directed the mice that charged from all directions. Some scrambled over one another towards the snake in forced determination. It was the oddest feeling, to know where they were around him, like small flickering beacons.


    They swarmed around its scales, biting at the rough hide with miniscule teeth. Barely more than a nuisance for the snake. But it was distracting enough to give Mitch an opening.


    He yelled and swung his blade, but the snake dodged sideways. A brutal slash ran across the snake¡¯s flank, and he felt the blade bite into flesh. It didn¡¯t pass through however, as all his other strikes had.


    That¡¯s new. I think this snake is tougher than the Grimmers.


    Black ichor sprayed from the wound. A sharp shout echoed down the tunnel. ¡°Mitch!¡± Sable¡¯s voice was tight with alarm. Warrick¡¯s deeper bellow followed.


    Mitch ignored their calls. They would come, and he would fight what was in front of him. The snake coiled tighter, its burning eyes fixed on him, waiting for the next strike. He couldn¡¯t afford a single wasted second.


    The mice squealed as they continued to bite the hide of the snake. Before he could pull back his sword, the snake¡¯s tail whipped around in a lightning-fast arc, aimed directly at his left hand.


    It struck him just above the wrist, punching through Rex, which elicited a growl from the beast that covered Mitch¡¯s body.


    Searing pain exploded in Mitch¡¯s hand, and his grip on the soul sword faltered. He looked down, and his heart skipped a beat as he saw a gaping wound. Even through the clinical state from Devoid, Mitch knew this wasn¡¯t good.


    Rot. The wound was melting, the flesh around the puncture blackening as if eaten by acid. He could visibly see the festering spreading quickly towards his hand. The pain told him that it was also happening up the Rex-covered forearm as well.


    The rot crawled up his arm, an icy burn as his skin melted. Rex growled, the sound reverberating in Mitch¡¯s ear like thunder, but the beast¡¯s presence couldn¡¯t mask the searching pain.


    Even through the haze of Devoid, panic clawed at the edges of his thoughts. He shoved it down, clamping the emotion into the lockbox of his mind.


    Not now. Not here.


    Mitch felt the rot spreading further, a creeping poison devouring flesh and sinew with every passing second. Time was running out.


    He kept an eye on the snake as he made a cold, calculated decision. He waited for it to strike again, and ordered the mice he controlled to tear harder. Two mice minions got special instructions.


    Go for the eyes.


    Mitch held his rotting hand in front of him. The rot from the bite melted his flesh before his eyes.


    He raised the soul sword one handed. Noise from Sable yelling behind him told that his squad was still a ways away.


    Cold rationality knew this was the only current solution.


    Sacrifices must be made.

 Chapter 17: That Aint Natural

    Blood sprayed across the stone as Mitch¡¯s soul sword sliced clean through his own flesh. His left hand fell away. A useless, rotting mess. A scream escaped him¨Craw and strangled, echoing down the cavern walls. The notification from the upgrade fueled the power surging within him from Agony¡¯s Embrace.


    Affliction Skill Upgraded


    Agony¡¯s Embrace


    Level 4


    Pain is power. Harness every drop of suffering, turning agony into unrelenting strength. Your torment permanently fortifies your body and amplifies your strength.


    +Your acceptance of pain strengthens your resolve.


    Consume Souls or Flesh to heal your Body


    Rex, his Shadowshroud, pulsed in response, recoiling up his arm like a spooked animal. The swirling black shirt he appeared as had retreated from the self-inflicted wound. Mitch took the shock he felt from what he had done to himself and shoved it firmly into Devoid.


    Blood splattered around him from arteries sliced cleanly through. Mitch felt his mind haze at the sudden loss of blood as the Abyssal Snake tracked him, waiting for its chance to strike again.


    But then Rex surged down his arm, binding himself tightly around the fresh wound. Capping the severed limb with dark, shifting tendrils. A cold wave pressed over the exposed flesh, the gushing smothered as Rex shielded what remained.


    Good dog.


    Mitch staggered, the strength draining from him in a rush. His vision blurred, and he felt himself wobble. The snake moved in, shaking the mice that gnawed at it, its red glowing eyes gleaming with vicious intent.


    Agony¡¯s Embrace flared to life within him. A surge of power born of pain roared through his veins, steadying him and strengthening him further. He gripped the soul sword harder, pressed the mice forward. His vision sharpened, the slight movements of the serpent as clear as fire against the dark.


    The snake lunged, fangs bared. Mitch twisted, slashing the blade across its scales, and felt the swing connect. The snake hissed, reeling back as dark ichor seeped from its wound. Mitch moved fluidly with his blade, every strike and dodge precise and cold. Each narrow dodge, each near miss of the fangs that leapt at him felt like survival etched into muscle memory. His body¡¯s instincts guided him through every movement.


    The Abyssal mice continued their attack, hurling themselves at the snake¡¯s face like small, dark missiles. They latched onto the serpent¡¯s scales with sharp paws, scratching and biting. Tiny teeth sought its eyes. But the snake shook them off with ease, tossing the small creatures aside with every movement.


    Mitch clenched his jaw in a scowl, dodging another bite, before his mind sought another solution.


    He reached again for Dominion of Shadows. The skill unfurled within him, dark and quiet, and he pressed it on, searching.


    He found them.


    Small beacons of minds scuttled and slumbered within the walls. He could feel them. With his Skill, or his curse that latched him to the Abyss he wasn¡¯t sure. But he knew they were there. All around him. Their dormant minds were always hungering, always waiting. It was an easy thing to instill his authority over them, once he knew how.


    Bugs, scurrying, or hiding, littered the cracks and shadows all around him.


    A cold smile formed onto Mitch¡¯s mouth as he flexed his Affliction Skill. With a cold determination, he swept down brutally on their simple wills and implanted his own. The power thrummed within him.


    Souls in his core roared in victory as Mitch claimed their small wills. They already loved his power. Their internal cheers strengthened his resolve.


    Minions: Abyssal Mice: 7 (-2), Abyssal Bugs: 249 (+249)


    Come forth. Feast.


    It appeared that he had lost two more mice during his fight with the Abyssal Snake.


    A faint rumble grew in the shadows as dozens, then hundreds of Abyssal Bugs poured from the walls and shadows. Black-shelled, scuttling things with needle-sharp legs and glistening carapaces. They crawled toward the promise of a feast in a wave.


    Their tiny minds felt like pinpricks within Mitch¡¯s Dominion of Shadows, each one a flickering light that pulsed with hunger. As the swarm reached the Abyssal Snake, Mitch felt their collective wills bending to his own. A relentless tide of hunger and obedience.


    The snake recoiled, its red eyes narrowing as the horde of bugs scrambled up its coiled, slashed body. The bugs began their gnawing. Biting and tearing, their mandables scraped against its scales, chipping away at the slide hide and drawing thin streams of ichor. The snake thrashed, throwing them off, but Mitch held their minds firm. He pressed the simple minds forward with a single command.


    Devour.


    The snake launched again, its hinged jaw snapping dangerously close to Mitch¡¯s chest. He twisted out of the way, slashing downwards with his soul sword. The blade met its mark. It cleaved deep into the snake¡¯s hide. The serpent hissed in pain, coiled body thrashing as the bugs burrowed into the fresh wound.


    Mitch felt his mind stretch as he managed the swarm of creatures under his control. Each one was a thread within his Dominion. The effort was taxing, but the newfound strength from Agony¡¯s Embrace from his cut-off limb pushed him through. It turned his blood loss into simmering, raw strength.


    Warrick¡¯s voice echoed from somewhere behind him, but Mitch paid him no heed. ¡°What? That ain¡¯t natural,¡± the orc muttered, fear flashing in his voice as he caught sight of the swarm crawling over the snake. His squadmate had arrived, to witness Mitch¡¯s growing power.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    The snake whipped its tail at Mitch again, but he was ready. Dodging to the side, he drove his blade one-handed into the base of its jaw. The soul sword bit deep, and the serpent¡¯s thrashing slowed. Its strength finally wavered.


    ¡°Almost done,¡± Mitch said to Warrick, who was frozen at the display. He could tell the snake¡¯s life was slipping away. With a flourish, Mitch yanked the soul sword out and spun in a vicious circle. A final, sweeping arc with all his strength came down. Mitch drove the blade through scale and then skull. The serpent seized. Then went still.


    The moment its life faded. Mitch released control over the bugs, letting them swarm freely over the fresh corpse with the remaining mice.


    Minions: Abyssal Mice: 4 (-4), Abyssal Bugs: 0 (-249)


    Why no upgrade to Dominion of Shadows? Hmmm.


    Still cold with Devoid, he reached for the snake¡¯s soul.


    He seized it, latched onto it, and pulled out the dark tendril into his core. It joined the others. A frenzied, animalistic energy, full of spite and instinct.


    It was heavier, denser, and more volatile than any he¡¯d absorbed before.


    Settlement Amount: 37 Souls, 1 Beast Soul (+1), 0 Credits, 109(+81) Flesh


    As Mitch straightened from the kill, blood-streaked and cold, Warrick¡¯s voice broke through the quiet. ¡°How? How is that possible?¡± His tone was wary, almost disbelieving. The orc¡¯s eyes darted between Mitch and the swarm of bugs devouring the serpent¡¯s remains. ¡°What happened? I swear I saw something go into you. I think.¡±


    Mitch forced a casual shrug, despite the pain pulsing through his severed limb. ¡°They must have been drawn to the smell of blood, I don¡¯t know,¡± he responded, keeping his face neutral. Warrick¡¯s eyes lingered, suspicion lurking. The orc must have seen some of the black tendril sink into Mitch¡¯s core, and he could sense his distrust.


    Can''t fully see souls. Good.


    Sable¡¯s footsteps echoed, and she appeared in the cavern. Her eyes widened as she took in the scene. The remains of the snake corpse, the bugs feasting, and Mitch cradling his capped stump. She crossed the distance quickly, focusing on his wound.


    ¡°Thank the Stars the Shadowshroud capped it,¡± she muttered, touching Rex¡¯s dark form and his arm with a hint of relief. Mitch felt her warm touch through Rex. ¡°Rex, you beautiful thing.¡±


    There was warmth in her voice. She met his gaze, concern in her eyes. ¡°You¡¯ll need to be careful about blood loss. This isn¡¯t something you can just¨C¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± he replied, swallowing the apprehension that twisted in his gut. He watched Warrick warily out of the corner of his eye.


    Warrick¡¯s gaze remained fixed on the bugs. ¡°Those creatures, they followed you, didn¡¯t they?¡± He glanced sideways, eyes unreadable. ¡°Almost like they were waiting for you to order them around.¡±


    Mitch forced a chuckle, masking the tension thrumming. ¡°They were just bugs, Warrick. Probably just smelled something they liked.¡±


    Warrick¡¯s eyes narrowed, not buying it, but he didn¡¯t push further. Mitch felt the weight of the orc¡¯s suspicions pressing down like a physical force, a sharp contrast to Sable¡¯s soft concern.


    No way I¡¯m telling them I controlled the bugs.


    Mitch¡¯s mind buzzed with possibilities. As well as a nagging sensation that he¡¯d just crossed a line. The realization settled over him with a strange discomfort. He was more bound to the Abyss than he¡¯d ever admit.


    Sable wasted no time. She took his good arm, her grip firm but surprisingly gentle as she led him back toward their campsite.


    ¡°Come on,¡± she murmured, her voice carrying a mix of urgency and something softer. ¡°You need to sit, catch your breath.¡± As they moved, Mitch felt her eyes flick to his wound now and then, her face etched with concern. Mitch felt the warmth bubble inside him as he admired her.


    ¡°Yeah, well¡­not planning to go anywhere,¡± he replied, voice gruffer and more awkward than intended.


    Bloodloss.


    Mitch felt the mice nibbling alongside the bugs in his mind on what little remained of the snake. Pinpricks of tiny wills he felt like beacons. With a thought, he ordered them forward, Dominion of Shadows reaching out.


    Enough. Scout ahead, and stay hidden.


    The mice gave one last nibble and darted forward, fading into the shadows like echos of his own dark thoughts. Each one was a silent, small tether. A sense of satisfaction pulsed back, a reminder of the dark power and authority he wielded. Even if that authority was over small creatures.


    Yet as they reached the cavern, the iron hold of Devoid began to crack. His emotions slipped in, slow at first, then surging. The memory of severing his own limb seared itself into his mind. A brutal reminder of his cold desperation. His heart pounded as he stared down at his Rex capped stump.


    I¡­cut off my own hand.


    The sound of parchment scratching had returned, itching his nerves further. Remnants of shock and fear hammered against his small measure of control. The realization attacked him.


    Can I heal this?


    His Abyssal Vault was powerful, yes, but could it grow a missing limb? Was that even possible?


    Souls in his core pulsed in response. They shifted, aligning in readiness. Each one was a potential piece of himself, brimming with energy.


    Within his Abyssal Vault, the souls ganged up on another. A particular soul.


    The serpent¡¯s.


    They grouped around it, containing it in their number, and pressed it forward to the front. The souls roared at the chance to offer up the twisted beast in the shared space.


    He felt Sable¡¯s hand on him, her warmth steadying him as she sat him down next to a sleeping and snoring Urgar. She watched him, concern etched in her eyes. Mitch barely saw her, but her presence was welcome.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on in that head of yours¡­but you¡¯re here. Focus on that.¡±


    She¡¯s right.


    He nodded, and closed his eyes, feigning going to sleep. Warrick had offered to take the next watch, a suspicious gaze settling on Mitch before departing down the tunnels to watch for more threats.


    The notification of the Abyssal Debt couldn¡¯t have come at a worse time.


    Credits


    Debts: -1,001,998* -> -1,002,664*


    Assets: 127 Credits, 0 Souls*, 0 Flesh*Interest: -666/day


    Cashflow: 0/day


    The weight of what he¡¯d done hung heavily. The edge of terror approached at the realization that he was losing pieces of himself. One limb at a time.


    Rex sent worry through their bond, disappointed that he couldn¡¯t protect his master from the fangs of the serpent.


    It¡¯s ok, Rex. You did great to seal it. Let¡¯s hope you don¡¯t need to do that forever. We¡¯ll keep getting you stronger. Mitch sent Rex the thought, and he felt the Shadowshroud curl more tightly around him in protectiveness.


    Mitch reached for his Abyssal Vault, the sacrificial souls cheering within him. Their numbers had the serpent¡¯s soul surrounded. It stuck out like black lightning within him.


    Let¡¯s see if I can heal this.

 Chapter 18: Vanquish

    Mitch settled into the darkness of his own mind. The pull of Agony¡¯s Embrace¡¯s healing capability felt like a heavy hum. The souls carried within him churned around the serpent¡¯s soul almost ritualistically, pressing it forward as an offering. It was contained, this monstrous presence, but thrashed with feral energy, barely restrained by the other souls crowding around it.


    Sable sat at the front of the cavern, watching the tunnel. Warrick traveled further up, ensuring nothing got too close. Mitch wasn¡¯t concerned. The mice he still controlled with Dominion of Shadows scouted and held positions in shadows. Their dark fur provided cover. The small minds sent back the all clear. Nothing lurked towards them. At least for now. Only the persistent scratching that constantly plagued them.


    Urgar snored beside him.The dwarf slept off the worst of his injuries, and Mitch noticed again how quickly his wounds closed. Deep gashes and bite marks visible on his hands and neck, as the rest of him was covered in soot-covered plate armor, were already covered in fresh pink flesh.


    If he doesn¡¯t have a healing skill, if they¡¯re that rare, how is he healing so fast?


    Mitch steadied himself, trying to focus on the flesh within his Vault. He drew it out of his Abyssal Vault and applied it with Agony¡¯s Embrace, directing it towards his stump.


    Settlement Amount: 37 Souls, 1 Beast Soul, 0 Credits, 108(-1) Flesh


    Warmth spread over his cut flesh. Mitch felt Rex relax as the flesh knitted over, sealed. Rex, ever present in his mind, loosened his tight grip, appearing as a swirling black shirt retreating upwards and sending Mitch a wave of quiet relief.


    Mitch looked down at what he¡¯d rebuilt: a new surface of skin, pale and thin. Thankfully intact over the halfway point of his forearm.


    I don¡¯t need Rex to keep from bleeding out. That¡¯s step 1.


    Mitch took a breath and tried again. He attempted to apply more Flesh from his Abyssal Vault to finish the growth. Agony¡¯s Embrace resisted, halting him mid-command.


    Shit. Knew that was going to happen.


    Frustration gripped him as he directed his focus to the serpent¡¯s soul. The powerful creature still seethed within. It writhed like an animal sensing slaughter, thrashing against the other soul''s bindings. He latched onto it and for the first time, tried to use a soul to heal himself.


    Nothing happened. His Abyssal Vault flat-out rejected it, and Agony¡¯s Embrace held him at an impasse.


    Is it because the soul is a beast soul? Is that why?


    He considered his soul sword for a moment. Maybe the serpent¡¯s soul belonged there. But something in him hesitated, a tugging awareness from past memories that it was the wrong decision. The Soul Sword was wasted on a simple beast. Something in his body told him that better things could be done with the weapon.


    Nagging at the back of his head, memories floated upwards. He knew he could use a regular soul instead. It would work, he could feel it. Another intuition from his Affliction Skill told him that it would vanquish the soul, wiping it from existence.


    The memories, the experiences¨Ceverything that person once was would be extinguished for good. All for a hand.


    The souls stirred. A few of them pressed forward in eager sacrifice, withdrawing their hold on the snake¡¯s soul. Mitch¡¯s chest tightened. It was a bitter ache that twisted with the temptation of his need. He tried to ignore them, tried to convince himself that he could endure with only a single arm. Yet even without the cold rationality of Devoid, he knew he would need to be whole to survive.


    One soul broke away from the rest, stepping forward with a sense of calm resolve. Mitch knew that it understood the true cost.


    Mitch felt his throat tighten. His hand trembled as he mentally reached for the soul. His mind grappled with the decision. Whispered gratitude escaped his lips in a murmur. He tapped into the soul¡¯s energy, and it shattered. A life spent in a single moment.


    A rush of memories invaded his mind as he felt his arm begin to regrow: a young boy, gaunt and hungry, scrounging through garbage in an alley of Shadowreach. Brilliant blue flames devouring his home. A smoldering scar where a family once lived. Citizens not even waiting a day to claim the burnt space. A desperate dive into the solace of Grimlace. The memories broke apart, leaving Mitch hollow.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    Settlement Amount: 36(-1) Souls, 1 Beast Soul, 0 Credits, 108 Flesh


    Tears flowed down Mitch¡¯s face, and he cried silently. Looking down, a fresh layer of muscle and bone was at the end of his arm. It was still incomplete.


    Another soul pressed forward. Its essence was one of quiet acceptance. Mitch¡¯s chest burned with grief as he tapped it. Raw, visceral echoes of another shattered life plagued him for what felt like ages.


    With each memory, his arm grew bit by bit. And each soul gave a piece of themselves. As the ninth soul broke, he finally let out a whimper to accompany his tears.


    This¡­this is why the other¡¯s didn¡¯t last.


    He clenched his jaw, muttering his grief as he reached for the tenth, and hopefully final, soul. He vanquished it. A final surge of memories washed through him¨Cpain, struggle, small joyful glimmers amidst a life mostly suffered.


    But his arm was whole again. He stared at it in awe. The flesh was pale, clean. Scars still layered his skin. Apparently those were permanent, even in regrowth.


    Least my arm is whole.


    Settlement Amount: 27(-9) Souls, 1 Beast Soul, 0 Credits, 108 Flesh


    The souls within him were quiet. Even the bestial soul seemed calmer at the witnessed sacrifice.


    Agony¡¯s Embrace pulsed with newfound power as a notification was sent to him.


    Affliction Skill Upgraded


    Agony¡¯s Embrace


    Level 5(+1)


    Pain is power. Harness every drop of suffering, turning agony into unrelenting strength. Your torment permanently fortifies your body and amplifies your strength.


    Your acceptance of pain strengthens your resolve.


    Consume Souls or Flesh to heal your Body


    + Power over life. Power over death. Souls may fuel what flesh alone cannot. Sacrifice the willing and rebuild what was lost.


    Mitch wanted to throw every emotion into Devoid. But he let himself feel the weight of what he had done. At least for a moment, he would bear the weight of his actions without assistance.


    The hollowness in his chest throbbed. A weight far too deep for words. Devoid itched in his mind like a warm, waiting embrace.


    He gave into it. Shoving the guilt and the emotion into Devoid, he forced himself back to cold rationality. The sorrow lingered at the edges, a phantom ache that he couldn¡¯t shake. Even logic has its limits.


    Beside him, Urgar snored. Oblivious. Mitch turned over, and caught Sable¡¯s red and yellow eyes staring at him. Her gaze was concerned, and then it swept over his fully healed arm.


    ¡°You¡­you¡¯re whole,¡± she murmured, a relieved smile breaking over her face. She rushed over and threw her arms around him. The warmth of her embrace hit him. It was a balm against the chill of Devoid, and what he had done.


    Mitch let himself savor it, the simple comfort of being close to someone.


    His heart fluttered slightly at holding her small frame. She might be patched together from different bodies, but Mitch couldn¡¯t help view her as a woman.


    A small smile made its way onto his face as he drew strength from her closeness. Letting Sable¡¯s embrace linger a few moments, Mitch felt something unfamiliar swell in his chest.


    A craving. A pull for something that defied the violence and darkness surrounding him. In her arms, he felt real. The words came to him unbidden. Carrying a raw honesty that even Devoid couldn¡¯t suppress.


    ¡°Hold on, Sable,¡± he murmured into her shoulder. ¡°Just for a moment.¡± His voice was barely a whisper.


    She stiffened for a fraction of a second, but then her grip tightened around him. Her fingers brushed against his newly healed arm, tracing the skin with gentleness that surprised him. His breath hitched as he felt her fingertips press into fresh muscles.


    ¡°We¡¯ll have to move soon,¡± she murmured, glancing back over her shoulder. ¡°The Abyssal Hag isn¡¯t going to kill herself.¡± She pulled away, and Mitch missed her embrace already. Sable gave a small smile, but her expression turned to one tinged with worry. ¡°I¡¯ll go get Warrick.¡±


    And just like that, she was gone from his touch. Mitch¡¯s gaze lingered on her retreating form. Bitterness prodded him, but he threw it into Devoid. He wouldn¡¯t let his emotions erase the warmth she left behind.


    The Abyss tugged at him. His tie with his Skills provided temptations of power, of survival through cruelty, but something about Sable¡¯s touch made him want to find a way to keep this moment intact.


    Suddenly, he was acutely aware of Rex¡¯s watching presence. Now that they were connected, he knew that Rex could feel his thoughts. It almost felt like the Shadowshroud was lapping his tongue at him, amusement leaking through their bond.


    Don¡¯t watch me all the time, you weirdo.


    He swore he could feel the Shadowshroud harumph and pull from their connection. Rex went back to a waiting beast he wore like a shirt.


    His fresh hand drifted to his Soul Sword, his thoughts darkening slightly. The serpent¡¯s soul pulsed in his Vault. Trapped and waiting. If his memories told him the snake¡¯s soul wasn¡¯t meant for the sword, it must be meant for something else.


    A beast¡¯s soul could serve a purpose, couldn¡¯t it?


    Mitch glanced at Urgar. Shallow, healthy breaths, mixed with snoring. He knew they would be descending further into the Abyss soon. Mitch would let the dwarf sleep as long as possible.


    Standing up, he tested his new arm, and waited for Sable and Warrick to return.


    It was time to delve further into the Abyss.

 Chapter 19: Choices Served Warm

    An ancient resonance shifted through the rock as if the Abyss itself were alive and restless. The sounds rolled down the tunnel like a warning. Low and relentless, echoing in the claustrophobic darkness. Beneath it, faint and persistent, was the scratching¨Clike nails on parchment. It was distant, but everywhere at once, trailing them through the passageways. They searched for any sense of direction, Sable leading the way.


    Urgar¡¯s limp was loud. His slumber had healed the brunt of his injuries, but his boot scuffed and dragged along the uneven stone floor. It was a half-healed reminder of Mitch¡¯s decision. The dwarf mumbled curses with each painful step, his voice bouncing off the glowstones that speckled the walls.


    Warrick brought up the rear, his heavy footfalls muted but watchful. The orc scanned the shadows with a hawk¡¯s vigilance. Mitch felt the tension against his back, suspicious eyes watching his every move. He didn¡¯t blame the orc.


    Mitch had his own eyes. The mice he controlled with Dominion of Shadows scurried in shadows, watching for threats.


    The tunnel widened, and a small cavern opened before them. It ended in a split path. The dim, unnatural glow of the Abyss washed over the walls, casting sharp shadows. Sable slowed, her grip tight on her worn map, brow furrowing. ¡°This¡­doesn¡¯t make sense.¡±


    ¡°Again? We¡¯re still lost.¡± Mitch¡¯s voice was a murmur.


    Sable shook her head. ¡°This¡­shouldn¡¯t be here. It¡¯s nowhere on the map,¡± Her voice was tight, edged with confusion. ¡°Where are we?¡±


    Ahead of them, carved into stone, was an ominous marking¡ªa crude hourglass etched into the rock face. The sand in the upper portion appeared full, ready to spill, but frozen in time. Beneath the hourglass, a single word was carved in stone, hauntingly clear: Choices.


    A deep resonance rolled through Mitch, like a thread of memory trying to resurface. He could feel something. It was a rush of pride. A distant familiarity with the carved symbol as his body remembered it.


    ¡°The Masked Lord''s mark,¡± Sable confirmed.


    His fingers curled tightly around the soul sword¡¯s hilt.


    Did I serve the Masked Lord in another life? My body knows that symbol.


    Warrick grunted from behind. ¡°If he¡¯d only succeeded,¡± the orc muttered, his gaze locked on the hourglass with an unreadable look.


    ¡°Yeah, well,¡± Sable snapped, glancing at Urgar¡¯s leg, ¡°he didn¡¯t.¡± She turned away, her voice lowering. ¡°And now look where we are¡­¡±


    ¡°Bah,¡± Urgar spat on the ground. ¡°Ain¡¯t nobody stands a chance against the Abyss.¡±


    They stepped toward the fork. Two paths opened before them: one veering sharply upwards. A brutal vertical climb. The other a dark, sloping descent that yawned like some ancient beast.


    The air along the lower path pulsed faintly with a warmth. An ominous welcome against the frigid temperature of the Abyss. Mitch could feel the pull, something in him whispering that it was where he needed to go.


    Warrick¡¯s voice cut through, breaking the silence. ¡°Nothing good ever comes from going down.¡±


    Urgar shifted, favoring his good leg, and grimaced. ¡°My leg ain¡¯t up to the climb.¡± He motioned toward the downward path. ¡°Besides, it¡¯s warm down there. Better ¡®an snapping my leg.¡±


    Mitch felt the sense of purpose solidifying, the downward path calling to him. Sable watched him, catching the flicker of determination in his gaze before turning back to her map with a resigned frown.


    She sighed. ¡°Fine. If we don¡¯t know where we¡¯re going, down it is.¡±


    They began their descent. The darkness pressed around them thicker than before, the glowstones even more sparse, the scratching now echoing with each step.


    Somewhere behind them, Mitch heard the faint echo of a stone grinding. It was a slow, heavy sound that made his skin crawl. None of the others seemed to notice.


    Mitch felt it in his bones. Something was watching, and waiting. Rex growled in his mind.


    The tunnel abruptly opened into a larger chamber. Jagged rock formations jutted out of the ground like fangs, casting menacing shadows across the cavern¡¯s floor. A stale, choking heat rolled over them. Mitch tasted old rusted iron and decay.


    And then¨Cslam.


    A massive stone slab crashed down behind them, sealing off the exit with a finality that vibrated through the rock and into Mitch¡¯s body. It was so severe that he felt a miniscule pulse from Agony¡¯s Embrace harden his body.


    ¡°Stars, I hate this place.¡± Warrick said, squaring up in a fighting stance. Everyone gazed around the sealed chamber.


    Mitch¡¯s eyes scanned the room. The walls started to shift, solid rock morphing and rippling like liquid. Shadows detached from the walls, forming into twisted figures.


    Golems emerged from the walls. Their bodies detached from the stone, massive and monstrous. Brutal amalgamations of rock and what appeared to be sinew. Hunched and malformed. Their arms were grotesquely long, ending in clawed hands that scraped the stone floor as they moved. Each face was hollow, carved chasms of darkness with faint purple orbs where eyes should be, shining with malevolence.


    Veins of purple energy pulsed through their rocky skin like arteries, casting twisted glows around them. Each step was accompanied by a deep, resonant growl that reverberated through the chamber, shaking loose bits of stone from above.


    The golems moved forward in stuttering, unnatural lurches. Reanimated by some vile magic, held together by the pulsing veins of Abyssal energy.


    Sable moved first, metal wires shooting from her hands in a whiplash of silver. They wrapped around the body of the closest golem, biting into the stone with a metallic shriek. She gritted her teeth and pulled her hand closed. The wires tightened, grinding against the purple veins. The golem struggled, and she held it tight, forcing it to stagger to a halt.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    ¡°Got you,¡± Sable muttered, twisting her wrists. She mentally wrenched the wires tighter, sending cracks spreading through the golem¡¯s body.


    Mitch surged forward, souls humming with dark energy as he swung the soul sword in a brutal arc. It connected with the wrapped golem, cleaving into its rock torso with a crack. Purple energy seeping from the wound like corrupted blood. His increased strength came in handy, and he swung again, crushing further into the creature. He held his Dominion of Shadows back, knowing that bugs and mice were useless against these creatures.


    Warrick phased in next to him, form flickering like a shadow. He appeared and slammed his gauntletted fists into its torso with brutal force. Stone cracked and shattered under the collective blows as each pounded the creature with vicious precision. Warrick¡¯s gaze flickered toward Mitch, suspicion tainting his eyes even amidst their battle.


    Urgar charged toward a second golem, grimacing as his bad leg dragged. Despite it, he moved with surprising agility. Sable¡¯s wires shot out again from her hands and wrapped around one of the golem¡¯s arms. Urgar dodged under one of the creature¡¯s massive swings, narrowly avoiding its clawed fist.


    With a swift turn, the dwarf swung his giant war axe into its shoulder, the blade biting into stone with a crunch. The golem staggered, and Urgar rolled back, movements nimble despite his limp. ¡°Gettin¡¯ too old for this,¡± he muttered, ducking out of the way of another attack. He hadn¡¯t ignited Forgeheart during the battle but didn¡¯t seem to need it.


    Across the chamber, Mitch left Warrick to finish the golem they had been tag teaming to lock eyes with another lumbering towards him. Its arms were outstretched, the hollow voids of its face somehow expressing a primal hunger. He steadied himself. The golem swung a jagged fist; but Mitch didn¡¯t flinch; instead, he took the hit, letting the impact slam into his shoulder.


    The shock reverberated through his body, blood pounding in his ears. Agony¡¯s Embrace flared, the wave of pain transforming into raw strength. He sheathed his soul sword across his back. Rex sent an inquisitive ping to his mind.


    ¡°Yep, definitely some anger to let out,¡± he muttered to himself, a dark grin stretching across his face.


    Mitch took a step forward and drove his shoulder into the golem¡¯s torso, fists slamming into the creature with brutal power. With a roar, he pushed the golem back. He swung and connected. Every strike powered by the furious energy flowing through him. For the decisions he had been forced to make. For what was being done to him. His core souls thrummed in unison as he struck.


    For a moment, he was about to activate Devoid, but didn''t.


    This I want to feel.


    Stone cracked, revealing seeping purple energy. Mitch focused on its face, staggering the golem and kept pounding. He felt his fists break under the pressure of his own hits, striking and taking the feeble swings of the Golem until it began to crumple apart. The veins of energy within it sputtered with a faint hiss.


    Finally, after countless hits, the golem fell apart in a heap of rock. Mitch straightened, breaking heavily, and caught Warrick¡¯s sidelong glare as the orc stood over his own dead golem. Looking down, Mitch saw his broken, split hands.


    Immediately, he pulled flesh from his Vault with Agony¡¯s Embrace and healed them. His fingers made a satisfying crunch as they straightened. Reaching again, he felt there was no soul within the golem. Just a very dense, strong puppet.


    Rex sent a pout of dissatisfaction to Mitch¡¯s mind¨Cno bodies to consume.


    Relax. We¡¯ll get you another.


    Mitch flexed his fingers, savoring the ache that lingered before his hands fully healed. The catharsis of breaking the creature had smothered his frustration for a moment. It left him feeling lighter. It wasn¡¯t a resolution, but it was a release¨Ca brief reprieve from the decisions looming over him.


    He caught Sable¡¯s eyes measuring him, the barest hint of admiration gleaming there before she masked it.


    ¡°Impressive, Mitch,¡± she said, her voice a mix of awe and caution.


    ¡°Needed to let off some steam,¡± he said, meeting her gaze. Behind her, he saw Urgar still fighting the last golem.


    ¡°Oy! Can we finish this?¡± Urgar bellowed, rolling. His axe gleamed with streaks of purple energy, lunging with vigor.


    Sable whipped around and fired wire around the golem¡¯s legs, securing it. Urgar¡¯s axe came down, splintering the creature¡¯s head with a final crunch.


    Mitch watched as Urgars axe bit deep, splitting the golem¡¯s head in a resounding crunch. It finally crumbled into dust and shards. A silence fell, broken only by the sound of heavy breaths and the persistent parchment scratching. The dwarf spun his axe in a flare and turned to the rest of his squad, grinning through his black beard.


    ¡°You like that, eh?¡± The dwarf winked at them.


    The immediate threat was gone, but the oppressive weight of the room wasn¡¯t letting up. Instead, it felt like it had coiled around even tighter.


    Warrick dusted off his knuckles, a strange look flashing access his face as he glanced at Mitch. ¡°Don¡¯t know if I¡¯ll ever get used to that,¡± he said, tone caught somewhere between grudging respect and something darker. ¡°You fight like a damned demon, every time.¡±


    ¡°Demon, angel¨Cdoesn¡¯t matter as long as it gets us out of here whole,¡± Urgar replied with a tired laugh, propping himself up on his axe and leaning heavily. His leg looked fine, Mitch noted.


    Sable surveyed the room, the edge of tension visible in the line of her jaw. ¡°This isn¡¯t over yet,¡± she surmised, eyes fixated on something beyond the rubble of a golem.


    Tremors grew underfoot, resonance echoing through the chamber. Purple light cracked the ground as the ground continued to rumble.


    Rising from the dust of the last golem was a pulsating stone. Large as a boulder, gleaming like dark amethyst. Veins of Abyssal energy radiated outward from its core in sharp lines, pulsing in a rhythm that appeared disturbingly alive.


    The glow deepened, bathing the room in a sickly purple hue. An instinctual unease washed over Mitch.


    Something inside him stirred as it reacted to the stone¡¯s energy.


    That¡¯s not a good sign.


    ¡°Watch out!¡± Sable shouted, diving to the side. Tendrils of purple energy shot out from the stone like lighting. The room was illuminated in blinding light. The tendrils were fast, ruthless. They shot out from the stone and grabbed hold of bodies, wrapping around them tightly.


    One by one, each of the squad members was lifted into the air. They were tied to the rock by the Abyssal energy. Except for Mitch.


    Something quickly grew around the energy strings. Purple energy pulsed from the stone, the tendrils transforming where they met flesh. They encased the squad members in purple light.


    They were trapped mid-air in bubbles of translucent Abyssal energy. Tied by purple lightning to the stone in the center of the room.


    Mitch barely had time to react. He watched helplessly as Sable¡¯s hands clawed against the barrier, her face twisted in frustration. Urgar cursed, swinging his axe futilely against his containment, while Warrick¡¯s defiant gaze burned into Mitch from behind the energy wall as he failed to phase out.


    He searched his body, but no tendril was attached to him. He stood alone, open mouthed and staring at his floating squad.


    ¡°Mitch, get out of here!¡± Sable¡¯s voice was muffled, barely audible through the barrier. Her eyes met his, wide with shock and a hint of desperation. ¡°Don¡¯t let it take you too!¡±


    But before he could move, a scrap of parchment appeared. It hovered just in front of his face, suspended in the air as if by invisible threads. His stomach twisted as he reached for it. Opening it, the message was written in blood.


    His chest dropped, a feeling of dread sinking into his bones. His veins turned to ice as he stared at the suspended squad. Trapped in the bubbles, trapped in the room.


    ¡°That¡¯s why the marking said ¡®Choices¡¯¡±.

 Chapter 20: Sacrificial Stone

    The parchment hovered before him, an obscene demand carved into the twisted script and written in blood. The incessant scratching had finally ceased. The real trap had finally sprung.


    Choose. One must perish, or all must perish.


    Mitch could feel the parchment link with his mind. All he had to do was choose one of his comrades, trapped in Abyssal Pods, and they would be extinguished. He was able to choose who would take the fall. or they all would.


    His gaze lifted from the blood-scrawled words to his trapped squadmates. They floated in their pods of energy. The reality of the choice clawed at him, digging deep into his resolve.


    ¡°What does it say?¡± Warrick asked from his pod, muted behind the energy wall, fear clear on his expression.


    Mitch ignored the question and ran towards the pulsating stone at the room¡¯s center. A feral snarl escaped his lips as he whirled and brought the blade down against the purple rock. The sword connected with a sickening, dull thud, its edge bouncing back as though it had struck solid iron.


    He let out a shout of frustration, casting his sword aside, and switched to his firsts. Flesh connected against the stone¡¯s unyielding surface until his knuckles split. Yet the stone remained unscathed, dark purple veins of energy thrumming. Mocking him.


    ¡°What does it say!? I can feel it taking something from me!¡± Urgar screamed in his own cage as he failed to crack the surface with his axe.


    Mitch¡¯s hands dropped from the stone, bloodied and trembling. His pulse hammered in his ears, drawing out thought. For a moment he didn¡¯t dare look at them.


    It¡¯s going to take one of them. This is because of me. Isn¡¯t it? It can¡¯t be chance that I was left out.


    But Sable¡¯s voice cut through, soft yet demanding. ¡°Mitch. What. Does. It. Say?¡±


    He swallowed. His throat was dry as the weight of their stares pressed into him like stone itself. There was no way to soften it. No words to make this easier.


    ¡°It says¡­one of you has to die,¡± he choked out. ¡°One of you, or we all do.¡±


    No one spoke for a moment. Then Sable broke the silence, her tone calm but laced with resignation.


    ¡°So that¡¯s it then.¡± She forced a thin, wavering smile. ¡°The Abyss has demanded its toll.¡±


    ¡°Bloody hell¡­¡± Urgar barked, his face paling as he pressed his hand against the energy that surrounded him. ¡°This can¡¯t be happening. There¡¯s got to be another damned way, right!?¡±


    But Mitch shook his head slowly, eyes fixed on the pulsating stone. ¡°I¡­tried. I can feel it in my head. The choice is there, waiting.¡±


    Warrick¡¯s jaw clenched, stoic voice wavering between anger and terror. ¡°So what now? You just¡­pick one of us? Leave the choice to you?¡± His eyes bore into Mitch, fierce and accusatory. ¡°Or are we picking?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t make this harder than it has to be, Warrick,¡± Sable said quietly. She looked at Mitch, and met his gaze with a sad look that sent a shiver down his spine. ¡°You have to do it. And if someone has to go, make it me. I fucked up and brought us here anyways.¡±


    ¡°No!¡± Mitch¡¯s voice cracked, heart pounding painfully in his chest. ¡°No¡­I can¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Yes. You can.¡± Her expression softened. ¡°I¡¯ve seen it in you. Warrick has to. You can make decisions like this. For some of us to survive, you have to,¡± her face grew darker. ¡°I''m the leader. I got us into this mess¡­I¡¯m¡­I¡¯m a hollow shell anyways.¡±


    The clench of tears made Mitch¡¯s chest even tighter. She had a point, a part of him knew. As a Patchling, Sable¡¯s body did not possess a soul. And Mitch knew all too well that Souls could feel.


    I have to do this.


    But something about her words lingered. She still carried herself like there was something left to find.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare,¡± Warrick interrupted, his voice fierce as he glared at her. ¡°This isn¡¯t about who¡¯s ¡®hollow¡¯ or whatever crap you¡¯re spouting. You think I want to die? I don¡¯t. But if this is how it ends, we go down fighting. Together.¡±


    Mitch¡¯s head swam. He didn¡¯t want to die either. Contrary to Warrick¡¯s point, when faced with the deal of one versus four, the choice was simple for him. He didn¡¯t want to choose, but he absolutely would. ¡°This isn¡¯t fair¡­¡± he moaned.


    ¡°Ain¡¯t nothing fair.¡± Urgar¡¯s voice cut through the haze.


    ¡°Not in the Abyss.¡± Sable said, unwavering. ¡°You can make a choice that lets most of us live. That¡¯s worth something.¡±


    Mitch could feel the choice weighing heavily against him. Souls in his core huddled back, unhelpful. Rex seemed none the wiser, only caring for his master. He needed help. Something to push his decision.


    ¡°You need to figure it out, Mitch. I can feel this thing already draining me,¡± Sable said quietly. Warrick and Urgar confirmed her point.


    He gave into his desire. Activating Devoid, the cold, calculated rational mind blanketed much of his emotion.


    Sable was, by her own admission, the leader and already empty and lacking. A husk of a person without a soul. It was logical. The clear choice. But even through the haze of Devoid, watching her sacrifice¡­he knew it was a weight he would barely be able to bear.


    ¡°This is insane,¡± Urgar spat at the wall of energy. ¡°You don¡¯t think I¡¯ve got something to live for? Just pick somebody else. Not me¡­I ain¡¯t done yet.¡±


    ¡°None of us are,¡± Warrick snapped, tone heavy with defiance.


    Mitch¡¯s gaze lingered on each of them¨CUrgar¡¯s desperate, self-preserving fear. Warrick¡¯s well-intentioned suspicion. Sable¡¯s resigned acceptance. Even with Devoid, the choice felt heavy and merciless. It was one thing to stomp a Grimmer that was trying to kill you. Choosing someone to die so that you could live instead was quite another.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°Whatever you choose, Mitch¡­¡± Sable¡¯s voice softened. ¡°I understand. I won¡¯t hold it against you. None of us will.¡±


    ¡°Fuck that!¡± Urgar shouted from his pod. Warrick gave an annoyed glare to the dwarf.


    As her words settled, Mitch felt something inside him harden. The choice was pressing on him now. If he didn¡¯t choose soon, they would all perish. Like an hourglass ticking down in his mind. He was running out of time.


    He tightened his firsts, feeling the sting of his own bloodied knuckles. If he was to choose this, he deserved worse. It would haunt him forever. But he would choose¨Cfor him, as well as them. His voice was barely a whisper, but it carried the weight of his decision.


    ¡°Then¡­it¡¯s you, Sable.¡±


    A flicker of relief crossed her face. She offered him one last, bittersweet smile. Mitch felt the brutal scrape of guilt and anger whisper out from the shroud of Devoid. He confirmed the decision in his mind, and witnessed the parchment dissolve.


    The light around Sable¡¯s pod darkened, swallowing her in a sinister shadow.


    Warrick and Urgar¡¯s pods burst open, purple tendrils retracting back to the stone. They fell to the ground, gasping as they scrambled to their feet.


    Mitch barely recognized their freedom. His focus was consumed with Sable¡¯s fading figure, her face hidden by the contained encroaching darkness.


    But it wasn¡¯t quick. Not the way he¡¯d thought it would be. Sable wasn¡¯t just going to disappear or fade in silence.


    Inside her pod, she began to convulse. Her face twisted with pain and then horror. The threads that held her Patchling form together began to unravel like fraying rope. Dark energy clawed her arms first, tearing and untwisting the black threads.


    Her fingers stiffened, and Mitch saw each strand of her being plucked apart with agonizing slowness. She yelled behind the walls of her pod, terror muted as if she spoke through a cup. Her ears distorted, warping, and then one was plucked clean off her head. The threads had been fully unwound.


    Warrick¡¯s voice was a roar, ¡°You didn¡¯t say she would suffer!¡± He lunged at Mitch.


    The fist connected with his face, and Mitch let himself take it. It sent him sprawling onto the jagged stone floor. Blood trickled from his split lip as he looked up, tears in his eyes as he met Warrick¡¯s wild gaze. He didn¡¯t resist.


    ¡°You coward.¡± Warrick''s voice trembled with rage. ¡°You chose her because it was easy. Because she was¡ª¡±


    ¡°Enough,¡± Urgar interrupted softly. His tone was flat. ¡°He had no choice. None of us did.¡±


    Mitch¡¯s mind spun. Filled with a desperate, sickening regret. Devoid couldn¡¯t keep back all of his emotion. Whether it was the correct decision or not, it was too late to argue.


    He could feel the souls within him scrambling. Each one felt like a muted whisper. Through the fog of his choice, he felt them gather around the serpent¡¯s soul.


    They pressed it forward like an offering. Mitch heard Sable¡¯s screams of pain as he wondered what the souls were getting at.


    He didn¡¯t understand. Didn¡¯t know what they were trying to tell him. But he reached for it anyways.


    Anything to stop this.


    He closed his eyes on the ground and reached deep into his Abyssal Vault. The serpent¡¯s soul was writhing beneath his touch. It pulsed with raw, untamed power. Far more viscous than the subdued souls within him.


    The weight of it strained against him. Clawing to be unleashed in any way possible. Mitch¡¯s memories knew that one could never truly tame a beast soul. Not without breaking the beast within it.


    With a flex of aguish, he drew on it. Pulling the foul energy into himself, he felt it seethe through his body and stomach. Something unlocked within him. Born of desperation and sacrifice.


    Affliction Skill Gained


    Deathhowl


    Level 1


    Relinquish Beastial Souls in a torrent of power.


    He barely had time to think. Sable¡¯s screams began to grow fainter as she was being unraveled before them in a display of horror. Desperation coiled into something primal as he felt the dark energy well up inside. A bubbling force that thrashed against his very core.


    Unfathomable heat seared his throat. He opened his mouth, and with a guttural, agonized cry, Deathhowl tore out of him.


    With a primal shout, he directed the energy toward the pulsing stone that held her.


    Red light poured from his eyes and mouth, and Deathhowl thundered forth. An ear-splitting, bestial roar laced with despair and rage. It was not just a shout; it was a raw, feral scream that shook the air, scraping against stone. The sound carried the serpent¡¯s fury, an oily, echoing wail that clung to the chamber walls. The room trembled as the tortured cry reverberated, seeming to drain the air itself.


    The ball of crackling energy ripped forward, blasting toward the pulsing stone with unstoppable force.


    Settlement Amount: 37 Souls, 0 Beast Soul (-1), 0 Credits, 108 Flesh


    The impact knocked him back, a torrent of bestial energy surging through the chamber, too wild and powerful to be contained.


    It connected with the stone in a shattering explosion. Obliterating it in a single blast. Purple shards flew in all directions, nicking and drawing blood from Warrick, Urgar, and Mitch¡¯s exposed skin.


    Sable¡¯s pod cracked open, and she fell to the ground gasping and trembling. Her tattered form was barely holding together. Her threads were frayed, her limbs slack. She was barely alive.


    Mitch rose and stumbled. He tried to get to her, barely able to keep his balance. Warrick and Urgar stared slack jawed at the display of raw power. Even Rex had gone silent, coiled within Mitch, stunned by the unleashed fury.


    His vision swam, his body rebelling against the power he had just unleashed.


    ¡°Sable¡­¡± Mitch choked through a strained throat, stumbling towards her. Finally, he reached her, and crouched near her side.


    Her yellow eye blinked. Weak, but alive. Her mouth moved, forming silent words. There was a glint of something in her eye, more than pain¡ªdetermination. The spark of life lingered, against impossible odds. She was still there, even as her body struggled to hold its shape.


    But before she could speak, the ground beneath them rumbled deeply.


    Mitch looked down, just in time to see cracks spreading from where the stone had once been. Lines of dark purple energy spiraling towards them like spreading blood.


    The floor beneath Sable gave way with a deep, low groan, and the stone crumbled inward. She let out a faint cry, a sound that echoed around him, haunting, and he barely had time to reach for her before she vanished. Swallowed by the Abyss below.


    ¡°No!¡± Mitch shouted as his heart seized. In a flash, Sable had vanished.


    He didn¡¯t hesitate, and leapt into the bottomless hole after her.


    ¡°Don¡¯t!¡± Warrick¡¯s shout rang out behind him.


    He ignored it. He fell, plummeting into the boundless, cold darkness. An unforgiving void devoured him whole. Below, he caught the faintest glimpse of her. A dim silhouette of her falling form. Out of reach.


    Hold on. Just hold on.


    Terror and rage coursed through him as he fell. Sable, so much more than a Patchling. Her desperation to survive, the quiet acceptance of her fate. Her natural ability to lead. Her tenderness. She was more than she let on.


    Much more.


    Desperation clawed at him as he fell faster, feeling the ache of every sacrifice and mistake he had made thus far.


    Should''ve chose Warrick.


    Something in his memories told him the bottomless pit was in fact not endless.


    No. I¡¯m not letting you fall alone.

 Chapter 21: Blood Bath

    Mitch plummeted through the darkness. Cold, choking air rushed past him in a frenzy. His heart hammered as he tumbled, surrounded by a darkness that stretched on endlessly in all directions.


    ¡°Shit, shit, shit!¡± The words tore soundlessly from his throat as he twisted mid-fall.


    I didn¡¯t think this through. What am I going to land on?


    A fresh surge of panic rolled over him.


    I know my body¡¯s strong. But¡­how strong? Sable is already falling apart too.


    He caught a brief glimpse of her falling figure just ahead, her form swallowed by the murky dark. Stretching out an arm, he grasped at the empty air. She was well past him.


    Suddenly the air seemed to thicken. The scent of iron invaded his senses. A faint red sheen appeared below, growing brighter and closer. Until he could make out its sickening surface.


    With a brutal impact, Mitch plunged into something warm and slightly dense.


    A pool engulfed him. Thick and clinging. Mitch broke the surface, choking and gasping as he fought to keep himself afloat. Its metallic tang filled his mouth and nostrils from the impact.


    It was a pool carved into stone. Filled with blood.


    Through the waving red liquid, he saw a pale, patchwork arm breaking the surface. His instincts kicked in. Rex growled in his mind, his black form covered in the gore. Even the Shadowshroud knew something was wrong with this.


    ¡°Sable!¡± He lunged through the thick mess. His hand dipped into the gore as he seized her arm and yanked her up. Holding her body tight, he felt how limp she was. Her breaths were shallow and her head lolled to the side. But she was somehow still alive.


    Mitch¡¯s stomach turned as he waded his way through the viscous liquid. His boots slipped against the stone at the bottom. Gripping Sable tightly, he pulled her toward the edge of the pit.


    The weight of her limp body pressed against him. Leaping out of the pool first, he managed to drag her out of the crimson bath. He laid her on the cold, slick stone floor.


    Blood ran in thick rivulets down her pale skin. Her patchwork form was loose, painted in chunky shades of red. She looked worse than before, with a slack body and limbs splayed. Her threads were visibly loose along her stitches and most importantly, at her neck.


    Her breath was coarse, wheezing through the unfastened parts. Just barely keeping pace.


    ¡°Come on, Sable¡­hold on,¡± he muttered, bruising a strand of blond blood-matted hair from her face.


    He glanced down at her body and noticed a frayed piece of thread protruding from her split light leather armor. Carefully, he grasped it.


    Practice first. Neck last. She¡¯s still breathing.


    His fingers were slick and trembling, but he began to run the black wire through her flesh. Closing the gaps of her as best as he could. Twisting his fingers tightly and tugging her back together, the thread seemed to stitch the section more solidly.


    She flinched with every pull, moaning through the process.


    Good, means she¡¯s still here.


    ¡°You¡¯re not going anywhere,¡± he whispered. ¡°I came after you. You¡¯ve already fought so hard.¡±


    She shuddered, her eyelids flickering as they opened. Revealing her one yellow eye and one red eye. They were barely focused. ¡°Why¡­¡± Her voice was a rasp, trailing off from her stretched vocal cords. She tried again. ¡°Why¡­did you come?¡±


    Mitch looked at her. ¡°Because I won¡¯t leave you,¡± he said firmly. ¡°I¡¯m not leaving you behind.¡±


    She blinked slowly, a flicker of strength in her gaze. Before she could respond, Mitch¡¯s attention was drawn to the other side of the large room. Black rock jutted from all angles, the ceiling spiraling infinitely upwards. The walls were coated in moisture and far too few glowstones to see properly.


    However, against the far wall, a swirling barrier of purple Abyssal energy pulsed with a menacing hum. It blocked off whatever lay beyond. There was only a void behind the single piece of furniture that waited.


    Just behind the Abyssal wall sat a simple desk. Utterly out of place amidst the chaos. It sat pristinely and beyond reach.


    Something tugged at his chest. A vibrating pull directing him toward the Abyssal wall.


    Looking down for a moment, Mitch remembered the key he had around his neck from Mathilda, the vampire shopkeep. The key recognized something in that direction.


    Attention back on Sable, Mitch unsheathed his soul sword. He lowered it to Sable¡¯s exposed threads to tidy them up. Slicing carefully, he managed with the available material to the best of his ability. Careful not to add to her torment.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    Something shifted in her limp hand. A faint shimmer caught his eye¨Ca thin coil of metal wire sliding out from beneath the skin of her palm.


    Mitch¡¯s fingers tightened around her hand, holding the wire steady. With quick, precise cuts, he split the wire into manageable segments. Thankfully, his hand was mostly steady as he held the wire.


    ¡°This should keep you together,¡± he said, a grim smile on his face as he began to thread the wire across her exposed body. His fingers were slick with blood, but he ignored it, focussing on tying each wire tight.


    Slowly, he wove her patchwork form back together. His hands worked with urgency. Each pull drew her form closer, binding her back together. Wires tightened around her arms, reinforced her threads, and bit by bit, she began to look whole again.


    As he worked, his face was mere inches from hers, close enough to feel her breath against his cheek. Her faint breaths hitched as he stitched the wire through her neck.


    ¡°You¡¯re still here,¡± he murmured, feeling her warmth return beneath his hands. He met her gaze, hands lingering as he tightened the final wire. ¡°I told you. I¡¯m not letting you go.¡±


    Her lips parted as her gaze softened. Though she said nothing, the faint flicker of life in her eyes spoke volumes. She was whole again, piece by piece. At least mostly.


    ¡°Well, well, well. Quite the fall you had there, wouldn¡¯t you say?¡± A voice said from the wall.


    Mitch turned sharply, his jaw tightening and souls within his core backing themselves in a corner as a figure stepped into view from behind the Abyssal wall.


    A half-orc stood tall, watching them with twisted amusement. His movements were cold and exact as he strolled over to the desk and took his seat. With a flick of his wrist, he unfurled a notebook, laying it open as though preparing to record his observations. A red ring glinted on one of his hands.


    From the bar. This is the same half-orc from the bar with Hathgar!


    The man''s eyes were a cold black. They held none of the warmth of life, only a calculated detachment. With a block chin, unpitted smooth skin, and a trimmed, thin mustache, he should have been attractive. His slightly hunched form draped in plain brown clothing looked overly relaxed. But the man¡¯s presence immediately sparked dread within MItch.


    ¡°Who the hell are you?¡± Mitch growled, instinctively placing himself between Sable and the man¡¯s gaze.


    ¡°Ah, formalities.¡± He tapped his pen thoughtfully on the notebook, then pointed it towards Mitch¡¯s chest. ¡°You may call me the Warden. Your friend, Hathgar does, at least. And you, my dear Mitch, are about to become a most¡­fascinating study.¡±


    Mitch¡¯s stomach dropped at mention of his friend¡¯s name.


    The Warden¡¯s smirk grew, savoring Mitch¡¯s reaction. ¡°Yes, your dwarf friend, Hathgar. Well, more like half a dwarf now, I suppose. Let¡¯s just say he didn¡¯t handle his¡­introductory procedures with the grace I¡¯d hoped for.¡± He gave a slow, mocking shrug. ¡°Shame. But, I believe you¡¯ll be much more cooperative. Your unique talents are precisely what¡¯s needed to expedite things.¡± He tapped his pen lightly against his notebook as if writing imaginary notes.


    ¡°Leave Hathgar out of this. Where is he?¡± Mitch hissed, his voice barely containing his fury.


    The Warden raised a brow, ¡°Oh, but Hathgar is very much part of this. You see, every piece has its purpose here in the Abyss, and your friend is just another component. Quite remarkable, really, the way he¡¯s adapted.¡± His gaze shifted to Sable, who had sat herself up. ¡°And the Patchling. Quite the little survivor, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    Sable¡¯s face was pale, but her eyes flashed with defiance. ¡°Keep talking. The more you speak, the less impressive you seem.¡±


    The Warden laughed softly. ¡°I do enjoy a little fight in my subjects.¡± He leaned forward, eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction. ¡°But tell me, Scrapling, what is it you¡¯re really looking for, hm? Are you hoping the Abyss will just leave your soul lying around? That it just waits for you like a lost pet?¡±


    That¡¯s what she¡¯s looking for. Mitch had seen her desperation at traversing the Abyss. He understood Sable¡¯s determination all the more.


    Sable¡¯s expression faltered for a moment before she steeled herself again. ¡°Fuck you.¡±


    ¡°Hmm. Apologies, but I do not indulge in¡­scraps. That would be unnatural. Disgusting, even,¡± The Warden casually, before his tone turned cold. ¡°Let¡¯s not dwell on the impossible, shall we? Instead, let¡¯s focus on what¡¯s right in front of us¨Clike Mitch here. The Abyss is practically singing about you.¡± The Warden leaned back again. ¡°All that untapped potential. I hate to see it wasted.¡±


    The man raised his hand with the red ring. Mitch felt a tightening pressure in his chest. The souls within him quivering, pulling back in fear.


    The Warden was also a Collector, it seemed.


    What the fuck have I gotten myself into?


    Mitch could feel it. The metal probe he could send at the bottom of his quest. To give up and die.


    Do you give up?


    No.


    ¡°Oh yes, this will be most helpful. It takes far too long to acquire souls from natural or unnatural deaths. This will help production tremendously. I dare say it''ll let me get the attention I deserve.¡± The man¡¯s voice was curled with satisfaction.


    Above them, a sound drew Mitch¡¯s attention. A shuffling, low and labored, accompanied by sickening wet smacking noise. Mitch glanced up, his eyes met with a horrifying sight.


    A bloated figure loomed over the edge of the pit. A hulking, greasy man with piggish features and yellowed, broken teeth. His beady eyes scanned below with an undisguised pleasure. He wore a blood-caked butchers apron and nothing else.


    Clutched in his meaty hands was a sac. Several screeches howled in the heavy canvas, writhing like caught prey to be slaughtered.


    ¡°Ah, right on time,¡± the Warden said, casting the piggish man a brief nod of approval. ¡°You¡¯ll come to know him as Butcher. He ensures our guests are welcomed. And he keeps the Abyss well fed.¡±


    Butcher leaned over, a twisted grin spreading on his fat face. ¡°Time for the new playthings,¡± he squeaked. The piggish man jostled the bag, sending the creatures trapped within into a frenzy.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to fucking regret this,¡± Mitch¡¯s voice was ice.


    ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t have regrets,¡± the Warden¡¯s eyes did not match the smile on his face. He lifted his ringed hand and pointed it directly at Mitch¡¯s chest. The pressure on his core grew, intense and suffocating. The souls within clawed the walls, desperate to stay inside.


    ¡°Welcome to the Pit,¡± Butcher barked out a laugh and untied the bag.


    The pressure continued to grow in Mitch¡¯s chest. But the Warden wouldn''t finish the Skill, taunting Mitch as he slowly dragged the souls out.


    Butcher dumped the sack into the Pit.

 Chapter 22: Voyeur

    Butcher¡¯s sack hit the stone floor with a wet thud. There was writhing, desperate movement from within. The smell hit Mitch first. A rancid stench of rotting flesh mixed with charred metal.


    His stomach turned as he gripped his sword, bracing himself between Sable and the sack. She was still too weak to fight.


    The Warden didn¡¯t flinch from behind the Abyssal wall, only watched with curiosity. He adjusted his notebook, pen poised. ¡°Begin, Mitch,¡± he said smoothly, voice resonating through the Pit. ¡°Show me what you can do.¡±


    From the sack spilled out a mess of small, hunched figures. Their limbs were bent at unnatural angles. Gray skin stretched over bones that looked half-melted. Hollow, dark eyes stared out as if something haunted was locked in. They trembled and shifted on bony limbs, emitting high-pitched giggles and distorted cries.


    A memory flashed through Mitch¡¯s mind. These things¨Ctheir faces¨Cheld traces of humanity. Reforged souls. Twisted together to serve unknown purposes by the Abyss.


    One of the imps looked up at him, head tilting as if studying him. A choked, gurgling laugh escaped its throat as it lunged forward on all fours. Unnaturally long claws scraped the floor as it rushed Mitch.


    He reached for the imp¡¯s minds. His Abyssal Bind faltered out, just as it did with the Snake.


    There was no time to hesitate. Mitch¡¯s inherited battle instincts took over.


    He swung his sword, and the blade sliced through the imp¡¯s brittle body with ease. It fell apart, split down the middle. Black ichor splashed across his boots as the creature died.


    ¡°Take it,¡± the Warden¡¯s voice echoed through the pit, cutting through the chatter of the imps circling Mitch. ¡°Its soul, Mitch. Absorb it. And the flesh.¡±


    Mitch¡¯s pulse quickened. He could feel the soul in its malformed body. If he let it drift away, he didn¡¯t know where it would end up. If he absorbed it, it would surely go to the Warden.


    He pulled the soul and flesh into his core. Black tendrils ripped from both halves of the body as the already withered creature curled in on itself further, remaining flesh taken.


    Settlement Amount: 38(+1) Souls, 0 Beast Soul, 0 Credits, 109(+1) Flesh


    The soul was weak. He could feel its fragility as it slumped into his core, almost exhausted. The others within him shied away from it, as if it were a sick animal.


    Mitch also noticed that it wasn¡¯t a beast soul.


    Another imp leapt at him from behind. Mitch let the claws rake his skin as he spun. With a vicous chop, the imp fell. The remaining monsters leapt at him in unison. Small scratches nicked him, Agony¡¯s Embrace flickering as his body strengthened slightly.


    Each kill brought another faint soul and more flesh as he quickly dispatched the handful of creatures.


    Settlement Amount: 42(+4) Souls, 0 Beast Soul, 0 Credits, 113(+4) Flesh


    Sable watched from her position, offering no aid.


    The Warden¡¯s voice continued, calm and clinical. ¡°Good doggy. Fascinating, truly. I knew you were able to absorb souls and flesh, and that you have a debt with the Abyss, but this is new. Now what is that debt from?¡±


    He doesn¡¯t know?


    Mitch met the man¡¯s gaze, not answering. The Warden waited patiently, and then offered a shrug, looking down at his notebook.


    Pen scratched against parchment as the Warden gathered his notes. When he was finished, he met the man¡¯s piercing and emotionless gaze.


    ¡°Not going to tell? Hmmm. We will see about that. As you can see, I love gathering information,¡± his gaze sharpened, lips twisting in a faint, satisfied smile as he raised his ringed hand. ¡°Now, let¡¯s see how you fare with emptiness.¡±


    Mitch¡¯s chest constricted. A wrenching pull yanked on his core as the Warden activated his ring.


    Burden Updated


    Burden: Pay the Abyssal Debt


    Status: Incomplete


    Active Debt: -1,002,664* -> -981,664*


    Thank you for your payment. Visit a Collector to make another.


    Do you give up?


    Settlement Amount: 0(-42) Souls, 0 Beast Soul, 0 Credits, 113 Flesh


    The torrent began. The souls were ripped out of him in a rush, and each one carried its own agony. They were all pulled out of him in an unstoppable wave. Tendrils, black and white and every shade in between flowed out of his chest.


    He tried to pull back, but it was like holding back an ocean of pressure. Impossible.


    Memories, pain, terror, it all flooded in. Tangled and vicious and fraying his mind. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    The subdued souls clawed at the walls of his Abyssal Vault, unwilling to leave. They were helpless under the power of the Collection, and were yanked out, howling in his mind as they were forced out of their safe refuge.


    Desperate, Mitch shoved as much as he possibly could into Devoid, hoping to shut some of the memories out.


    Affliction Skill Upgraded


    Devoid


    Level 3 -> 4


    Lock away undesired emotions and thoughts. Feel only what you wish.


    Your sacrifices are rewarded with power.


    All emotions and thoughts must be addressed eventually.


    The Skill pulsed as the emotional onslaught intensified. All of the soul¡¯s emotions passed through his mind, leaving him raw and overstimulated. He saw the souls'' lives flash before his eyes, reliving all their most important moments.


    Mitch staggered to one knee, his vision blurring. The Warden analyzed him, his notebook still open as the souls zipped into his ring.


    ¡°Now that¡¯s very interesting. You tried to keep them all back, hmm? All that emotion? That¡¯s the thing about emotion¨Cit never truly goes away. Especially not here.¡± He stood, snapping the notebook shut and tucking it under one arm.


    ¡°This has been very informative. I¡¯ll be returning to collect more. After all, souls must be recycled well; the Abyss demands it of me.¡±


    Mitch looked up at him, the weight of every stolen soul leaving him completely hollow. He fought to speak, but no words came. His thoughts were a jumbled mess filled with other people¡¯s pain.


    The Warden turned, waving a dismissive hand up to Butcher. ¡°Keep them busy while I tend to other matters. Powerful, strong souls. They are always required. And we don¡¯t want to pay off that debt quickly. If ever. Now would we?¡±


    ¡°Got it, boss. You know we don¡¯t lack bodies.¡± Butcher¡¯s lips twisted into a sneer, and he stomped away from his perch.


    Mitch clutched the floor. He felt noticeably weaker. The profound strength he captured from holding the souls was gone. Mitch still didn¡¯t understand where that feeling of power came from, but now that it was missing, he felt horrible.


    Ragged breaths came as he tried to push away the foreign emotions that forced their way onto his mind. The memories still flashed in his mind. It was a raw, unfiltered nightmare clinging to him.


    Sable crawled beside him, her body trembling from her recent patch job. She leaned against him, pulling him into a fragile embrace. ¡°I¡¯m here,¡± she whispered, ¡°Just¡­ just breathe, Mitch.¡±


    He sank into the moment, letting her presence ground him. Her hold was gentle and steady. His hands shook as he wrapped them around her, feeling the frailty of her body.


    ¡°You saved me,¡± she said softly, her breath warm against his neck. ¡°I¡¯ll stay by you until you¡¯re ready. I just need to heal and I can help.¡± She tightened her arms around him.


    He finally looked at her. ¡°I wish I could do more,¡± he murmured. ¡°My healing Skill, if I could just¡­ it¡¯s called Agony¡¯s Embrace.¡±


    A memory flickered as he held her tight.


    Something distant, but tied to his Skills. His heart pounded as his body recalled the feel of transferring that morbid ability of healing. Of somehow shaping it around someone else. Perhaps¡­she would be willing. It came to him as an instinct. Of something he had once done. Or his body had.


    No¡­she wouldn¡¯t.


    A deep rumble echoed through the pit, shaking them from the moment. Shadows rippled across the walls. Mitch instinctually reached for the empty soul sword. The darkness coiled at the edges, and faint growls were heard from above. From where Butcher would send more down.


    Rex growled in response, raw fury forming within the Shadowshroud. During the torment, the creature had been furious at what was happening to his master. It was eager to return the horrific favor, to lash out against their enemies. Rex may be an Abyssal creature, but he was inextricably linked and loyal to Mitch alone.


    We¡¯ll need you, boy. You will get yours. See just how strong you can become.


    ¡°More,¡± Mitch whispered, pulling back from Sable and standing. His gaze hardened as the rumbling continued. ¡°They¡¯re sending more.¡±


    Sable reached out a trembling hand, placing it in his. He looked down, feeling her exhaustion through her touch.


    ¡°Do you trust me?¡± His voice was laced with resolve.


    The Warden might think he had Mitch and Sable completely trapped.


    He will learn.


    She nodded, her gaze steady. ¡°I do, Mitch. You can be a cold bastard. But I believe in you. I¡¯ve got your back just like you have mine.¡±


    Something shifted inside him as he met her eyes. A pull that went beyond words. He tightened his hand around hers.


    There was trust there¨Ca peculiar, beautiful surrender. Trust, he realized, was a gentle obedience, one that asked nothing but demanded everything. He wanted to heal her more than anything, and she knew that. She believed it.


    Sable knew it so deeply in her core that she let the connection build. She didn¡¯t understand what was happening, but she let it come.


    He could feel her. Sense the faint spark of her will. She would do her best by him, he could feel it in his gut. In his Skill.


    I can trust her. She can be the First.


    The rumbling from above grew louder, and Mitch glanced to the perch where the Abyssal creatures would come. They would be forced to fight monsters, and then Mitch would have the souls ripped from him. Lurching shadows trembled the ground as the monsters were about to appear.


    A plan began to form in Mitch¡¯s mind. The memories told him he could do this. With the onslaught they were about to endure from their captors, they would grow strong. Together. They did not know about half the Skills Mitch possessed. Or what he could endure.


    The Warden thought himself so smart. But Mitch would figure this trap out.


    Kill them all together. Save Hathgar. I like the sound of that.


    Perhaps it was Devoid speaking. Or his own arrogance. Yet his body¡¯s memories pulled him on, something telling him this was what must be done.


    Always forward. Right, Mathilda? The key, pressed to his chest and on the chain, had been lightly vibrating and drawing him past the Abyssal wall the entire time.


    Mitch reached out and grazed Sable¡¯s mind as the Abyssal monsters sent by Butcher appeared above. Her yellow and red eyes went wide as she felt his mental touch.


    He felt her acceptance like a distorted beacon of light.


    Affliction Skill Upgraded & Modified

 Chapter 23: Mine

    Dominion of Shadows -> Abyssal Bind


    Level 1 -> Level 2


    Exert command over lesser Abyssal beings and draw others into a permanent bond.


    Followers/Minions: Create lasting connections with chosen beings. Extend your influence and power over them.


    Requirements: True allegiance must be granted willingly.


    Minions: Abyssal Mice: 4


    Followers: Sable (The First Follower)


    Abyssal Bind¡¯s upgrade unfurled like a rotten flower within him. Mitch felt a subtle but powerful shift¨Ca pull from Sable¡¯s presence, safe and unwavering. He could sense her as another awareness tethered to his own. There was no ability to read her thoughts, but he felt the wonder and cautious trust.


    She had accepted the Skill, recognizing him as...something more.


    New Title Earned: Veiled Sovereign


    Bearer of secrets and masked power, your influence extends beyond mortal understanding.


    You command loyalty in silence. Veiled from all but those who see you as their true lord.


    Effect: Followers gain heightened awareness of your presence, sensing your will. With each follower, your power grows, and you strengthen your call.


    Her eyes blinked at him in astonishment. She seemed at a loss for words, caught between awe and hesitation.


    Mitch felt it as well. The bond, though new, felt ancient. As though he was meant to bring others into his fold.


    The words of the title lingered in his mind. They resonated something deep within his memories¨Ca moment of recognition.


    Veiled Sovereign. That is a lot of responsibility.


    The moment shattered as a feral roar echoed above. Their attention snapped to the perch, where the first creature Butcher had sent was glaring at them with pure vitriol.


    A towering, gorilla-like creature hurled itself into the pit, slamming into the stone with such force that the ground cracked beneath it.


    It loomed. Its hulking frame was an unnatural blend of raw muscle and twisted sinew, each bulging and barely contained in its mottled gray skin and straggly, oily hair. Veins throbbed across its arms and chest like rivers of shadow.


    Its face was distorted, the heavy brow jutting over deep set eyes that glowed red with Abyssal fury. Bone-like spikes overlaid its shoulders and forearms. They were rough and uneven, and appeared to be grown from mutated bone. Claws curled at the end of each massive hand.


    A low, guttural growl rumbled through its throat. Saliva dripped from its jaws, sizzling as it hit the ground. Its roar was not just a sound but a physical force, vibrating through the very marrow of their bones. It panted heavily as its gaze locked onto them with a primal, relentless focus. Its eyes landed on Sable, and it charged.


    ¡°Move!¡± Mitch yelled as his instincts flared to life. The Abyssal Gorilla¡¯s massive body lunged at Sable, claws extended and ready to tear through flesh.


    He felt the bond with her resonate. Without thinking, he channeled Agony¡¯s Embrace, and tried to force his own healing capabilities on her. He had patched her up previously but knew she was still weak from her injuries and needed to move quickly.


    Settlement Amount: 0 Souls, 0 Beast Soul, 0 Credits, 90(-23) Flesh


    A grotesque red tendril surged from Mitch¡¯s chest, pulsating with raw energy as it twisted and then connected with Sable. The connection was organic, almost alive. A ropy cord of sinew and shadow intertwined. Mitch felt the drain as each pulse of Flesh left his core, thinning a much larger chunk of his reserves that he thought it would.


    Sable threw herself aside, screaming as the beast charged. The invasive energy surged through her, and Mitch saw her threads knit even tighter through her roll. A surge of warmth flooded through their bond as Mitch channeled healing into Sable. She gasped as torn muscles knitted and strength returned, the abrupt recovery both exhilarating and disorienting. But the beast was relentless.


    It spun, slamming its fists into the ground where Sable had been moments before. Shards of stone erupted, peppering the air. Mitch launched himself forward, soul sword flashing as he aimed for the creature¡¯s exposed flank.


    The blade struck flesh but barely penetrated. The gorilla¡¯s hide was tough and armored. It spun around, backhanding Mitch with bone-crushing force.


    He flew backwards and skidded across the rough ground. Pain tore through him as his skin peeled, but Agony¡¯s Embrace flared, converting the torment into new power.


    ¡°Get up!¡± Sable shouted, her voice sharp and newly regenerated. She extended her hands, and her metallic wires shot out like vipers. They coiled around the beast¡¯s wrists and dug into its flesh.


    Mitch pushed off the ground, ignoring the protest of his flesh as the Gorilla spun towards Sable. It charged her again, and clipped her side through her roll. She spun through the air in a yelp.


    He sprinted and leapt, intercepting Sable mid-air. He twisted to absorb the impact as they hit the ground together. Through their link, he sent her a flash of healing from Agony¡¯s Embrace, the red tendril zipping towards her in a flash.


    Settlement Amount: 0 Souls, 0 Beast Soul, 0 Credits, 89(-1) Flesh


    ¡°Thanks,¡± she gasped from the sensation, eyes wide.


    ¡°No problem, can we focus please?¡± he grunted. The beast was already upon them, its massive shadow swallowing them whole in the dimly lit pit.


    Mitch rolled to the side as a colossal fists bound with metal wire cratered the spot they¡¯d occupied. Dust and debris filled the air. He coughed and ran a circle around the beast.


    This thing is too large and fast.


    Reaching, Mitch pulsed his newly upgraded skill, Abyssal Bind, to within their immediate surroundings. Just as he hoped, he felt the speck sized minds all around him. Grinning, he squeezed them into his fold in a flash. With his upgrade it was much easier to control their small minds.


    Minions: Abyssal Mice: 4, Abyssal Bugs: 232 (+232)If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    The ground beneath the gorilla began to writhe as the shadowy insects swarmed upwards through cracks in the floor. They crawled over its legs, many getting crushed in the process.


    But many got through. Their legs scrambled up the beast¡¯s legs as it lapsed in its charge towards Mitch. They bit and stung, tiny jaws and mandibles piercing the beast¡¯s hide. The gorilla roared, thrashing and shaking its body as it tried to shake off the swarm. Its movements grew frustrated under the crawling, biting mass.


    ¡°Now!¡± Mich shouted.


    Sable flicked her wrists, her metal wires snapping forward. They coiled around the creature¡¯s ankles, slicing into flesh. She whipped her empty hands back, and wires tightened instantly.


    The beast stumbled, dropping to one knee. Mitch seized the moment.


    He sprinted forward, sword aimed low. With a swift strike, he slashed across the back of its other knee. Tendon snapped in a fountain of gore. The gorilla howled, collapsing further.


    But Mitch wasn¡¯t done yet.


    The monster swung a massive arm, claws tearing through the air toads him. Mitch barely ducked in time, feeling the rush of wind above him. He swung again at its flank, cutting through hide and flesh, but not nearly enough. The soul sword flashed countless strikes across its tough body. Even with Mitch¡¯s natural inclination with the blade and his profound strength


    Mitch rolled another swipe from the stumbling monster, coming up beside Sable.


    ¡°It¡¯s too strong, you¡¯ll take a swipe before we kill it,¡± she panted.


    ¡°We¡¯re wearing it down,¡± he replied, eyes fixed on the creature.


    The gorilla slammed its fists into the ground, crushing the swarming bugs beneath it. The Abyssal insects clung stubbornly, burrowing into its flesh. Blood oozed from countless tiny wounds, but the gorilla still looked ready to fight for hours.


    Rex growled within Mitch, eager for his release and meal.


    Not yet¡­but we can use you.


    The beast reared up, fury burning in its crimson eyes. It let out a deafening roar, the force of it rattling Mitch¡¯s bones.


    Sable glanced at him. ¡°Any idea?¡±


    ¡°Just one.¡± He met her gaze and pointed towards the wall of the pit. Giant jagged rocks stuck out. ¡°Do you have to shoot your wires out, or can you hold onto them?¡±


    ¡°Either¡­I¡¯m just not the strongest, so I always shoot them.¡± She responded, curious.


    Perfect.


    ¡°Follow my lead. Hold onto them. I¡¯ll help.¡±


    Mitch charged forward, drawing the gorilla¡¯s attention. It swung at him, but this time he was ready. He braced himself against the ground, and absorbed the impact of a blow to his body. He skidded back, and converted the pain and impact into more power. His ribs cracked, and shoulder crunched, but Mitch was being very accustomed to pain.


    Each blow, each round of torment, only fueled him.


    Settlement Amount: 0 Souls, 0 Beast Soul, 0 Credits, 88(-1) Flesh


    He healed himself quickly with Agony¡¯s Embrace, feeling his ribs and skin knit back together. He ran backwards towards the wall, the monster swiping air as it just missed up.


    ¡°Over here!¡± he taunted the beast, beckoning it closer to the wall.


    The creature snarled and rushed him. Behind it, Sable moved into position. She gathered her wires internally, focusing.


    Mitch stood against the wall and grinned. It was going to crush him into the wall. Above him, a giant stone precariously extended from the wall, looking as it was going to crack and fall at any moment.


    ¡°Now, Sable!¡±


    She unleashed her wires, but not at the beast. At the rock above.


    Mitch rolled at the last minute, the gorilla throwing itself into the rocky wall. Sable¡¯s wires latched onto the rock, and she kept them connected to her. She squeezed, and the wires wrapped themselves around the precarious base. Mitch spun and yanked with her.


    He pulled as hard as he could, the wires digging into his palms. A crack, and then all at once, the giant rock fell towards the gorilla, shaking itself off.


    The massive boulder crashed down onto the gorilla¡¯s back. The impact drove the beast to its knees, a shockwave rippling through the pit. Dust and debris blanketed the creature.


    Mitch surged forward, sword poised on his bleeding palms. The gorilla roared under the weight of the rock.


    Sable was already in motion. She leaped onto the fallen boulder, shooting wires that whipped out to coil around the beast¡¯s neck and arms. She squeezed her palms, cinching the wires against the gorilla''s neck.


    The creature thrashed, but its movements were more sluggish than before. Mitch darted in, slashing across its body. The blade bit deeper than before, a result of his strength increasing from Agony¡¯s embrace.


    The gorilla swung a massive arm upwards in defiance. Sable shot another wire towards it and wrapped its wrist again. She kept the wires loose and wrapped them around a stone, flexing her will to tighten them. Locking the arm down.


    With a swift, decisive strike, Mitch drove the sword¡¯s tip into the creature¡¯s chest.


    A guttural howl erupted from it. It bucked violently, nearly throwing Sable off balance. Mitch held firm, and twisted the blade deeper. The gorilla¡¯s movements became erratic as its strength began to wane.


    ¡°Finish it!¡± Sable yelled, sweat dripping down her brow.


    Anger ignited within Mitch¡ªa foreign emotion that wasn''t entirely his own. It dissipated as quickly as it came, leaving him unsettled.


    Looking at her, he grinned darkly and answered. ¡°We will.¡±


    He ripped the sword free, collapsing the gorilla into a bleeding, wheezing, but still alive mess. Mitch stepped back and Sable leapt off, joining him.


    ¡°Rex, your turn.¡±


    The Shadowshroud leapt from Mitch¡¯s side. The tendril tethered him to Mitch¡¯s liver like a shadowy leash.


    As he detached, his form shifted from a ball of black to something different. No longer the writhing mass of dark tendrils, Rex resembled a very small dog. Forged from the very essence of the Abyss with shaggy hair. Black as night, his body was small yet muscular. His single eye gleamed with a glow, and small fangs of obsidian shimmered as he growled from his maw.


    With a snarl, Rex bounded toward the fallen gorilla. He left wisps of darkness in his wake. He moved with the grace of a predator and the inevitability of a storm. Rex began his feast.


    Shadows enveloped Rex as he began to consume the dying creature in squelches and crunches. Rex didn¡¯t seem to mind that the creature was still alive, even if barely.


    Reaching, Mitch claimed the gorilla¡¯s soul. A thick roped tendril flowed into his core. It was darkly colored and raged about its prison. More intelligent than the serpent, and huffing with a simmering rage.


    Settlement Amount: 0 Souls, 1(+1) Beast Soul, 0 Credits, 89 Flesh


    A deep rumble resonated through the pit. The vibrations intensifying beneath their feet. From above, the echoes of multiple creatures reached their ears. Snarls, growls, and the scraping of claws against stone.


    Much more than one.


    Sable¡¯s eyes widened as she stared at her hands. ¡°Uh¡­that shouldn¡¯t be possible,¡± she muttered, a mix of confusion and astonishment in her voice.


    Mitch turned to her, still feeling the lingering energy from the beastial soul strengthen him. It felt purposeful to have his core occupied once again. ¡°What?¡± he asked


    Sable looked up at him, disbelief etched across her features. ¡°I got a new Skill, and a Title¡­but¡­this shouldn¡¯t be possible. What is going on?¡± The weight of her words hung between them.


    Mitch¡¯s pride surged at hearing her development. He had a self-satisfied feeling that it was in part due to his influence and capability.


    The sounds from above grew louder. A cacophony of impending Abyssal threats.


    The horde was about to appear. Rex continued his meal in a disgusting display. Mitch sent his controlled bugs into a tight mass. He was shirtless, scarred covered body healed and stronger from Agony¡¯s Embrace.


    Hope there¡¯s a lot of small monsters. Maybe this pit is exactly what I needed.


    Mitch grinned at Sable, before turning to face Butcher¡¯s perch. The horde was about to descend. But Mitch knew they could face it together. And grow all the more powerful.


    ¡°Let¡¯s see what that new Skill does.¡±

 Chapter 24: Farming Pain

    Rex feasted. His small jaw cracked bones as he continued to tear into the fallen gorilla. Shadow and sinew merged around him in a display of endless hunger. The Shadowshroud happily continued its meal, sitting in the crimson pool beneath him. The black tether of a leash still connected Rex to Mitch¡¯s liver, but interestingly, they had learned that things could pass through it.


    Mitch faced the Abyssal Wall erected by the Warden. It only enhanced his motivation. Withered bodies littered the space around him. He stood in the center of the pit, shirtless, chest heaving, arms raised. Daring the wave of creatures to continue their torment.


    And they did. A horde of small, snarling beasts closed in. Their eyes were locked on his bare, blood soaked torso. Eager to add new wounds to already savaged skin. Agony¡¯s Embrace flared with every gash he took. Pulses of power forever compounding in his body.


    They think we¡¯re trapped. This is only making us stronger.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go, you fuckers,¡± he groaned through clenched teeth, bracing himself. Mitch was more than accustomed to pain. He had endured a lifetime of hurt, he had even been murdered. It was still difficult not to flinch a bit. ¡°I¡¯m just getting warmed up.¡±


    Need to beat past that.


    The first small demon lunged, claws slashing across his shoulder. Mitch gritted against the sting, feeling skin split and blood leak out of him. Agony¡¯s Embrace flared, soaking up the pain and feeding it back as raw strength.


    Another creature latched itself onto his leg. It was gnawing on his calf muscle and was about to reach bone. Mitch bore the pain as long as he could. Every strum of pained nerves strengthened him further. He could feel it, the torment settling in his bones. In his flesh. Soon they wouldn¡¯t be able to break him at all.


    He felt stronger and faster with each cut.


    Time to heal a bit, getting a bit light headed here.


    Siphoning flesh from his reserves, Mitch felt his body mend itself. Torn fibers reconnected with a familiar warmth. His vision steadied as the blood loss slowed, the flesh pooling under the wounds in relentless surges. Each healed gash left behind another scar. Etched into his skin and added to his bodies already large collection


    Settlement Amount: 23 Souls, 6 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 73(-6) Flesh


    He looked down, seeing the fresh scars interlaced with the older ones left behind from others who had inhabited his body. A messy map of pain and recovery.


    To Mitch, they were layers of armor¨Cproof that pain would not hold him. He was rebuilding and painting himself anew over the loss of past trials.


    ¡°You know,¡± Sable called out, her voice dripping with amusement. ¡°I¡¯d suggest dodging. Even once and a while. Just to keep things interesting?¡±


    She dangled by one of her wires wrapped around a stone, feet braced against the Pit wall. A smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth.


    ¡°Appreciate the advice,¡± he replied, voice tight with concentration. ¡°But this is called Farming Pain, not Avoiding Pain.¡±


    ¡°Bit reckless. Even for you.¡± She flexed her wrist, and a thin line of wire shot out. It wrapped around a nearby demon¡¯s throat before she scrunched her hand. The creature¡¯s head snapped to the side in a crack. ¡°You¡¯re welcome by the way,¡± she added, ¡°that one had actual needles instead of fingers.¡±


    ¡°Much appreciated.¡± Mitch took the second to pull on his reserves, healing him completely. ¡°Maybe a bit of warning next time? I don¡¯t want to get Abyssal tetanus or something.¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t hear any complaints when I saved your hide against the small one that went for your¡­you know.¡± She waggled her eyebrows.


    He barked out a rough laugh, wincing as another demon¡¯s claws raked down his arm. ¡°And here I thought the First Follower was just an honorary title you received. A fancy nameplate.¡±


    Sable¡¯s grin widened, ¡°More than just a nameplate, actually,¡± she replied, raising her wrist in a new way. A jagged purple pattern appeared along the demon''s arm where she aimed. Her new Skill, Fracture, was allegedly difficult to use, and Sable was getting practice in while Mitch was gaining strength by the second.


    ¡°Turns out,¡± she added, her voice low and steady, ¡°the Title lets me know just enough about you.¡± Her eyes flicked towards him, and for a moment, Mitch felt the weight of her awareness. A subtle sense that she could feel his presence, his proximity, and perhaps slightly more. ¡°I can sense you in the Pit. Even if you¡¯re pushing yourself a bit too far, or the opposite.¡± She shrugged as if it were nothing. ¡°Basically, if you¡¯re slacking off, I¡¯ll know.¡±A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    She snapped her fingers, and the demon¡¯s arm splintered, breaking apart in a flash of purple mid-swipe. The creature howled, black ichor spilling from its stump, and scrambled back from Mitch as Sable sent another Fracture toward its neck. Another snap. The demon''s head split cleanly from its body onto the Pit floor. It¡¯s body followed a moment later.


    She¡¯s definitely getting better¡­


    ¡°Oh, trust me,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ve already given myself a promotion.¡± She tapped her temple. ¡°First Follower means I get the inside scoop.¡± Her smirk softened. ¡°Don¡¯t think I¡¯ll be losing track of you anytime soon.¡±


    The words hung in the air. Mitch felt a swell of respect and trust build between them.


    Another beast lunged, but Sable¡¯s wires snapped it back against the floor. Mitch stomped it in one heavy boot, testing his newly gained strength.


    ¡°I know I''m smart, but¡­¡± he panted through the cuts lacerating him. ¡°This might be the most genius plan I¡¯ve ever had.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s insane.¡± She chuckled, sending another Fracture and cutting the leg off a small demon. ¡°But it suits you.¡±


    They continued. Falling into a rhythm¨CMitch endured the cuts and bites, siphoning souls and flesh and healing his body as he gained strength in a loop. Sable practiced her new skill with precision, sending small Fractures across the pit to rip the demons apart. They formed a deadly duo, each cycle of pain and power bringing them closer. As friends, and through their permanent bond through Abyssal Bind.


    Affliction Skill Upgraded


    Agony¡¯s Embrace


    Level 6(+1)


    Pain is power. Harness every drop of suffering, turning agony into unrelenting strength. Your torment permanently fortifies your body and amplifies your strength.


    Your acceptance of pain strengthens your resolve.


    Consume Souls or Flesh to heal your Body


    Power over life. Power over death. Souls may fuel what flesh alone cannot. Sacrifice the willing and rebuild what was lost.


    Finally. No new additions though¡­


    The pain dulled from the level up. The cuts and claw marks that raked across him no longer broke skin. The sensation was strange, as if he had been tempered in fire, his nerves blunted to the sharpness of their talons, his flesh thickened like armor with each strike.


    A savage grin spread across his face as he stood his ground, daring the horde to break themselves upon him. He barely flinched, absorbing the blows, his strength mounting with each hit. Beside him, Sable moved with precision. Wires flashed through the air as she cut down demon after demon, honing her new ability with each snap.


    Then, as the blood-soaked chaos settled, Sable looked up, a glint in her eye. She tilted her head towards Butcher¡¯s perch above them. ¡°Mitch,¡± she said slowly, ¡°can¡¯t we just¡­do we just go up there?¡±


    Mitch blinked. They¡¯ve been so consumed with fighting that the obvious had somehow evaded them both. He glanced back at her, a disbelieving grin spreading across his face.


    ¡°We¡¯re such idiots.¡±


    The two of them shared a brief look, but just as Sable climbed down to the Pit¡¯s floor, a new sound filled the air. Heavy, lumbering steps echoed from above.


    Each footfall reverberated through the pit. A wave of dread washed over them. This one felt different.


    A monster with a Skill?


    Thundering growls scraped air. Telling them it was something far larger than anything they had faced. The sound reverberated through the pit, making the very ground tremble beneath their feet.


    Mitch unfurled his soul sword from his back. The familiar weight settled into his hands as he braced for the oncoming threat. He turned to the remaining small creatures still clawing at him, and with swift, lethal precision, cut through them. His blade was a blur of merciless intent. Each swing of the sword felt sharper, his movements more deadly, as though his body was finally unlocking the raw potential that Agony¡¯s Embrace had been cultivating within him.


    He marveled at the ease with which he dispatched the last of the demons.


    He felt unstoppable. The small horde quickly lay at his feet in cut up bunches.


    Whatever was coming, Mitch had a bad feeling about it. He quickly siphoned the souls and flesh from the fallen demons around him, feeling each soul tendril zip toward his core like threads of dark energy. Their bodies withered as he drew out their remaining vitality, storing their healing essence deep within.


    Settlement Amount: 64 (+41) Souls, 28(+22) Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 141(+68) Flesh


    He¡¯d missed a few souls, the delay leaving some bodies too long untouched. The souls he captured thrashed within his core, pulsing with raw, chaotic energy as they settled. They, too, added to his strength in unknown ways.


    ¡°Yuck. You know that¡¯s still gross, right? Even if it did save my ass,¡± Sable said, eyeing the perch where their new enemy was quickly approaching. Mitch ignored the joke.


    ¡°Rex. Come back, boy,¡± he commanded his Shadowshroud.


    Rex looked back from the nearly picked-clean remains of the gorilla, giving a final, bone-crunching chomp before he zipped over, leaping back onto Mitch¡¯s chest. His dog-like form, compact, muscular, and with that single eye, looked up at him. He was well-fed and satisfied. Like a hound after a successful hunt.


    Rex¡¯s shadowy form rippled as he settled back over Mitch, a familiar weight that now held a surprising density. Like armor forged from darkness itself. Mitch felt the added protection. Rex was much more substantial than before.


    They faced the perch together, the three of them. Each thunderous step above casting a deeper shadow over the dimly lit pit.


    You ready?


    Rex growled in his mind in response.


    Mitch looked down at his Shadowshroud.


    Holy shit. You are ready.

 Chapter 25: Big Boy

    Light plate of dense shadow covered Mitch¡¯s torso and extended down to his hands. Each segment fit as if forged for him alone. Rex covered his neck as well, in a collar of dark armor curving protectively upwards. Its cool weight rested just below his jawline.


    The sleek, black plating did not gleam; It only exuded a quiet menace as it shifted continuously. It was Rex¡¯s aggressive energy encased in the living armor. Mitch¡¯s jaw and lower face were left exposed, yet he felt protected like never before. Each breath he took felt fortified. A steady rhythm that Rex mirrored, squeezing and retracting smoothly against his body.


    This is more than just armor, Rex. You¡¯re awesome.


    It was a partnership. A symbiosis with an Abyssal beast. Mitch felt Rex¡¯s sharp, aggressive mind growling at the incoming titan, which stomped towards them from Butcher¡¯s perch. Mitch flexed his hands around his soul sword. The cold edges of Rex¡¯s light plating settled over him like a second skin.


    Low and deep, the tremors reverberated through the pit floor. Each stomp from the perch above sent shockwaves. Mitch braced himself and gripped his soul sword tighter. Sable stood next to him, while Rex sat snug and alive over his torso.


    The Behemoth¡¯s twisted silhouette loomed from above. Its shadow was vast and carved from nightmares. It dwarfed both the perch and the Pit. Red, rune-like scars flared in the dim light, pulsing with energy that seemed to poison the air around it.


    Chains embedded deep into its flesh dangled and clattered as it moved. Each link was as thick as MItch¡¯s arm, dragging behind it in a chorus of clanging.


    With a single, powerful leap, it crashed into the pit, the ground shuddering beneath its colossal weight. Cracks spidered out from where it landed. Rising to its full height, it stood nearly three times Mitch¡¯s size¨Ca monstrous giant in vaguely human form. Its face was twisted and angular beyond recognition. Its broad, hunched torso heaved with every breath, and its limbs rippled with unnatural sinew.


    Its body was an amalgam of muscle and raw power. Its arms ended in giant, human appendages capable of crushing stone. Thick legs supported its towering, naked bulk. Yet it moved with a disturbingly smooth agility. More beast than man.


    Its face¨Ca mask of barely human features¨Cwas elongated and misshapen. A thin jaw opened as it snarled, revealing rows of serrated teeth. Its red eyes fixed on Mitch with a calculating intelligence.


    The Behemoth hunched low. Chains embedded in its flesh rattled as it prepared itself to fight.


    ¡°Big fucker.¡± Mitch grumbled to Sable.


    Sable''s eyes were wide with fear that she couldn¡¯t hide. ¡°Mitch¡­this thing could break us in half.¡±


    Mitch nodded, gripped his soul sword, and felt Rex¡¯s eagerness ripple across his chest. The Shadowshroud pushed him to strike.


    Easy, boy.


    Mitch darted to the side as the Behemoth¡¯s head turned, tracking him with unnerving precision. Sable navigated to the back side of the creature.


    The Behemoth turned its massive head, red eyes flickering with something beyond rage. Its voice rolled out, deep and grinding, as if its very bones spoke.


    ¡°You¡­¡± the Behemoth¡¯s voice grated like stone against steel. Each word was slow and forced, ¡°I know what you are. Soul Eater. Bearer of an empty vessel.¡±


    Mitch¡¯s grip on his soul sword tightened.


    A ripple of recognition passed through him, but Rex growled in his mind, steadying his resolve.


    The Behemoth lowered its head. Chains dragged across the ground in a metallic screech. ¡°I do not wish to die¡­ but I will not be bound by the Abyss any longer.¡±


    With that, the runes on the Behemoth¡¯s chest blazed brighter. Chains embedded in its shoulders and wrists rattled to life, rising into the air like sentient tendrils. They radaited dark energy around the creature.


    The Behemoth¡¯s chains whipped down, and gathered chunks of stone from the pit floor with precision. Each link formed a vicious sling of large jagged rock. Runes across its arms flared once more, and with a sickening force, it flung the stones like cannon fire.


    Mitch barely had time to react. He ducked and sprinted as an onslaught of stones whizzed over his head. They smashed into the pit wall and shattered, spraying fragments everywhere.


    Rex tightened across his torso, his armor flexing in response to incoming blows. The Shadowshroud¡¯s energy pulsed like a second heartbeat. Urging him closer to stand and fight.


    The Behemoth¡¯s chains swung at Mitch with malice, collecting more stones and firing them with terrifying speed. One grazed Mitch¡¯s shoulder, forcing him to grit his teeth as pain flared. Agony¡¯s Embrace responded, and he felt the boost in his muscles.


    Rex roared in his mind. Pushing Mitch to tackle their enemy head on. To absorb the blows and let the agony build his strength.


    You want pain too? Fine.


    Mitch angled himself toward the Behemoth. A jagged rock hit him square in the chest, though it was softened by Rex¡¯s armor. The Shadowshroud howled in his mind, and Mitch felt Agony¡¯s Embrace flare again. Mitch healed them instantly with the flesh he held.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    Broken ribs.


    Settlement Amount: 64 Souls, 28 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 139(-2) Flesh


    Sable¡¯s voice broke through the rumble of battle. ¡°I¡¯ll keep those chains down if you can get closer!¡±


    Mitch glanced her way and darted forward towards the Behemoth. Sable sent her wires flashing out. The wire caught one of the chains mid-swing, yanking it just enough to make the stone miss Mitch¡¯s face by a hair¡¯s breadth.


    He lunged, slashing his soul sword across the Behemoth¡¯s exposed thigh with all his strength. The beast roared. Mitch felt the satisfaction of slicing through skin, but it was barely a scratch on the massive creature.


    Sable fired another wire and a Fracture at the chain. Purple flashed and the chain split before Mitch¡¯s eyes, dropping to the ground.


    Mitch snarled in frustration and unleashed Deathhowl, aimed straight towards the Behemoth¡¯s chest. A piercing wave of beastial energy ripped from Mitch¡¯s throat in a crackling green ball.


    Settlement Amount: 64 Souls, 27(-1) Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 139 Flesh


    It slammed into the Behemoth¡¯s and exploded upon impact, sending chunks of singed muscle everywhere. The beast staggered. And Mitch thought he saw the rune under chest flicker quickly.


    The Behemoth¡¯s red eyes blazed with rage, and it swung its chained hand with renewed energy. It caught Mitch¡¯s side in a brutal hit and sent him flying backwards.


    That rune¡­


    His body spun in the air and he crashed into the pit wall. Mitch felt his back and shoulder shattered on impact.


    Pain erupted, nearly blinding, as Agony¡¯s Embrace flashed through the pain. He landed face first onto the floor. Through his pain, he healed the wound using his reserves.


    Settlement Amount: 64 Souls, 27 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 128(-11) Flesh


    ¡°Weak. You are weak,¡± the Behemoth walked towards him as Sable fired multiple Fractures at it. Chunks of its skin burst apart, ichor flowing, yet the Behemoth lumbered forward, unrelenting. ¡°You wield a fool¡¯s strength. You do not know your own power.¡±


    Mitch rose to his feet, breathing hard. His gaze locked onto the flickering rune beneath his chest.


    Sable was circling the Behemoth. Her wires snuck out to grab hold of the chains. She clenched her hand, and the metal links tangled. The Behemoth spun and roared at her in frustration, swinging wildly.


    A chain whipped towards Sable at terrifying speed. She sent a Fracture on it, and the purple energy met the chain mid-swing. With a sharp snap, the chain shattered, falling in heavy pieces. The Behemoth¡¯s howl shook the ground.


    Seizing his change, Mitch darted forward towards the Behemoth''s exposed back. He unleashed another Deathhowl, spitting out of his raw throat in an animalistic roar. Green energy collided with the Behemoth¡¯s flesh. Muscle splintered, the force staggering the giant forward. Mitch launched a second Deathhowl in a spiteful shout. Vanquishing a monster¡¯s soul to take down another.


    Settlement Amount: 64 Souls, 25(-2) Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 128 Flesh.


    The Behemoth spun, its chains gathering stones mid-motion. Mitch braced himself as he neared, Rex encouraging him on as the Behemoth¡¯s fist swung towards him with unrestrained wrath.


    Mitch ducked mid stride, feeling the air slice above him. But the creature was fast¨Cmuch faster than Mitch expected. Its massive arm came down again, catching Mitch in the head.


    The impact was immediate and overwhelming. His vision darkened for a moment as he forced flesh reserves to heal his cracked skull.


    Settlement Amount: 64 Souls, 25 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 110(-18) Flesh.


    Through the healing haze, he found his resolve. Mitch drove his soul sword into the beast¡¯s exposed side. Thick muscle gave way beneath the empty soul sword. Dark ichor sprayed from the wound.


    It roared. But there was no reprieve. Mitch pulled his blade free and swung again, slicing deep across the creature¡¯s ribs as he dodged another swing. His strikes carved gouges into the Behemoth¡¯s flesh. Still, the Behemoth seemed unfazed. Its fury only intensified in its strikes.


    Dodging a giant fist, Mitch caught sight of the Behemoth flinging stones toward Sable with its free chains. Her Fracture made quick work of the incoming rock, splitting it into fragments mid-air, but she still took a few hits. Mitch flexed their connection, sending a healing tendril her way even as he danced around the Behemoth¡¯s blows.


    Settlement Amount: 64 Souls, 25 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 103(-7) Flesh.


    Hmmm¡­she is squishy. Need something else.


    Mitch¡¯s mind raced. He reached out with Abyssal Bind, sensing the sparks of insect minds scattered within the ground and walls of the pit. In a single command, he summoned them with a vicious mental clamp, urging them to swarm in front of her. Individually, they¡¯d be no threat to the Behemoth. But he could turn them into a wall between Sable and the stones.


    Minions: Abyssal Mice: 4, Abyssal Bugs: 432 (+432)


    Followers: Sable (The First Follower)


    Hundreds of bugs surged around Sable. They clustered and formed into a pulsating shield. Rocks crashed against the mass of insects, smashing the vanguard he¡¯d created. But Mitch pressed more forward. As stones shattered the bug shield, fragments cut across her exposed skin. Mitch channeled his dwindling reserves, sending another wave of healing to her injuries.


    Settlement Amount: 64 Souls, 25 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 94(-9) Flesh.


    His reserves were thinning fast. The monster''s injuries were building, but at too slow a pace. Every strike Mitch landed, the rune beneath its heart flashed.


    Mitch barely dodged as a chain struck the ground beside him. It left a crater in its wake. He seized the opportunity, slashing upward, his soul sword tearing across the Behemoth¡¯s thigh. The Rune flashed, and the creature bellowed in pain and stumbled back.


    Mitch slashed another deep cut along the Behemoth¡¯s torso.


    The monster growled, an oddly contemplative sound amidst the chaos and Mitch dodged another swing at his face. Rex growled in his mind as he flowed against Mitch. ¡°Good. You learn to protect what¡¯s yours. That is important.¡±


    Mine?


    Out of the corner of his eye as he slashed again, Mitch noticed something horrific. Severed chains lay coiled across the ground, remnants of Sable¡¯s Fractures. Yet they were not still and dead.


    Each chain rose from the ground like iron serpents.


    One boulder, held aloft by a severed chain. The chain snapped forward. The boulder was thrown with deadly speed.


    A chill ran through him.


    ¡°Sable!¡± Mitch shouted, his voice raw with urgency. She was unaware, her focus on keeping the Behemoth¡¯s rocks at bay as a boulder flew straight for her.

 Chapter 26: Soul Survivor

    Mitch reached out instinctively, a surge of energy latching onto her mind. The command was raw, and absolute. Forced through their bond of Abyssal Bind. He connected and influenced her movement with a violent push.


    Move. Now.


    Sable jerked, her body reacting before her mind could catch up. She sprang to the side as the boulder crashed into the ground, sending shards of stone across the pit. Quickly, she sprung back to her feet.


    She shot Mitch a look, confused but aware that something had influenced her mind. It had been him exercising control.


    Abyssal Bind


    Level 2 -> Level 3


    Exert command over lesser Abyssal beings and draw others into a permanent bond.


    Followers: Create lasting connections with chosen beings. Extend your influence and power over them.


    Requirements: True allegiance must be granted willingly.


    Minions: Abyssal Mice: 4, Abyssal Bugs: 1323


    Followers: Sable (The First Follower)


    ¡°Good,¡± the Behemoth¡¯s deep voice boomed. ¡°You are willing to learn.¡±


    In the split second of distraction, the Behemoth¡¯s massive foot swung forward. It caught Mitch directly in the side. The impact broke something in Mitch through Rex¡¯s armor, and his Shadowshroud howled in his mind. Mitch flew to the side, crashing into the floor in a whirlwind of dust and shattered bone.


    Pain flared hot and white in his best. Agony¡¯s Embrace turned the torment into power, but Mitch had no time to acknowledge it or heal.


    The Behemoth¡¯s shadow loomed over him. A foot the size of a small boulder hovered above him, coming to crush him.


    With a snarl, Mitch forced himself to roll. His body protested in pain as he used his reserves to mind his broken body. He fired Deathhowl casts in animalistic roars towards the monster.


    Settlement Amount: 64 Souls, 22(-3) Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 89(-5) Flesh.


    The pain ebbed and provided just enough strength to let him scramble out of the way. He shot up to his feet through his body mending.


    ¡°Still weak,¡± the Behemoth rumbled. ¡°You must learn to truly sacrifice for victory.¡±


    It advanced as Sable regained her composure, her hands glowing with the purple energy of Fracture. Her expression was fierce as she launched a torrent of attacks at the creature. Each landed with a snap, carving wounds into the Behemoth¡¯s thick skin.


    One Fracture from Sable connected with a finger, and with a snap, the Behemoth¡¯s giant digit tore free. Ichor gushed from the wound. Another Fracture cut into its arm, leaving a deep, jagged gash.


    But the Behemoth only chortled. Its laughter rolled like thunder through the pit. Even as it bled, the Behemoth¡¯s red eyes stayed locked on Mitch.


    ¡°Strength without sacrifice is hollow,¡± It growled, swinging a chained arm toward Mitch. ¡°You know nothing of power.¡±


    ¡°Are you nothing but endless platitudes?¡± Mitch responded to the creature¡¯s taunt. It chuckled at his answer. His jaw clenched in anger, and he rushed forward. Slashing his blade, he connected again with the beast¡¯s thigh. His soul sword bit deep, ripping a would across the beast¡¯s flesh.


    In the corner of his eye, Mitch saw Sable firing skill after skill.


    The Behemoth laughed again, low and menacing. Its eyes gleamed with malice. ¡°Everything worth doing requires a mighty cost.¡±


    Each strike Mitch threw landed with brutal precision. He ripped deep into the creature¡¯s thick skin. His Deathhowls ripped souls and delivered brutal hits against monstrous flesh. But the Behemoth was unyielding.


    For every hit Mitch and Sable landed, the Behemoth countered, forcing Mitch to tap into his reserves as chains and giant fists clipped him. When he could, Mitch would spit malevolent Deathhowls at the creature. He landed a few, sending the flesh he hit flying and then coating the Pit floor.


    Settlement Amount: 64 Souls, 17(-5) Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 65(-24) Flesh.


    He was forced to continually heal shattered bones and torn muscles just to stay in the fight. Rex pulsed across his torso, shifting his shadows to absorb the heaviest blows. Yet even with his Shadowshroud¡¯s protection, healing, and Agony¡¯s Embrace, Mitch worried about their chances.


    Across the pit, Sable continued her assault. Her face was set in concentration. She used her wires to tie up the Behemoth, and peppered his body with countless wounds from her Fracture shots.


    Yet, the Behemoth¡¯s scattered chains swung dangerously in her direction. Jagged rocks hurtled through the air to clip her. Mitch¡¯s heart twisted as he saw many coming too close, but the Bugs he controlled and healing he sent kept her from falling. When needed, he flashed a tendril of healing towards her.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Settlement Amount: 64 Souls, 17 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 54(-11) Flesh.


    The Bugs surged up from the grounds and walls, forming barriers around Sable. Each time the rock¡¯s from the Behemoth crashed into the wall of insects, it exploded into fragments. But as more stones came, Mitch had trouble keeping up with calling more Abyssal Bugs.


    Distracted.


    A sliver of frustration bit into his focus. His need to keep Sable safe was clouding his judgment.


    He activated Devoid. The Skill steadied him in the head-to-head fight against the Behemoth. Icy detachment washed over him. His mind sharpened, and emotional distractions fell away.


    Everything came clearly. The dust swirling in the Pit. The twitching of the Behemoth¡¯s muscles. Then he saw it again.


    As Mitch landed a brutal hit and a Deathhowl on the Behemoth¡¯s chest. The rune beneath the Behemoth¡¯s chest flickered. The pattern was unmistakable.


    That¡¯s it.


    In his state of heightened clarity, Mitch¡¯s focus snapped back to the Behemoth. He calculated each move as he prepared to strike the heart of its strength.


    Driven by desperation, Mitch summoned a Deathhowl directly at the Behemoth¡¯s chest. Dark energy spiraled from his core and spiraled. It tore through the air as Mitch used two beastial souls at once instead of one.


    Affliction Skill Upgraded


    Deathhowl


    Level 1 -> Level 2


    Relinquish Beastial Souls in a torrent of power.


    The impact rocked the Behemoth, forcing it to stumble back. Massive wounds carved across its chest. The Behemoth met his gaze, only showing disdain. It looked down with a sneer, as if utterly unaffected by the staggering damage.


    ¡°Is that all you have?¡± the Behemoth sneered. The scorn in its voice cut deep, stirring a raw, primal anger from him.


    A pulse of rage ignited in Mitch. He¡¯d thrown everything he had. This monster was still mocking him.


    He reached deeper, tearing into a part of himself.


    Gritting his teeth, Mitch pulled from his core and wrenched a true soul from within, feeling a part of himself disappear as he did. He shoved the emotion of the soul into his Devoid lock-box, ignoring the life once lived. A flicker of notification flashed before his eyes.


    Settlement Amount: 63(-1) Souls, 15 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 39 Flesh.


    Affliction Skill Gained


    Soul Sacrifice


    Level 1


    Consume a soul in a torrent of power for you and your Followers.


    A surge of raw, unrestrained power tore through him. It lit up his nerves, fierce and electric. His muscles tightened, thrumming with strength as his senses sharpened to a razor¡¯s edge. Rex¡¯s roar exploded in his mind and thrummed down his chest, visibly vibrating.


    Fire flooded Mitch¡¯s veins. Every fiber of his being burned with an Abyssal force unleashed.


    He felt unstoppable. A man turned beast from a flood of unrelenting fury and will.


    Across the Pit, Sable gasped, doubling over as the energy hit her as well. Her Fracture snapped with visceral intensity on the Behemoth¡¯s body. Her stance shifted as newfound strength flooded her limbs.


    The consumed soul flooded the small bastion of power that Mitch had formed.


    Mitch didn¡¯t waste a second. Fueled by the unrestrained power of his new skill, Soul Sacrifice, he charged forward in a flash. His soul sword thrummed in his hand, and Mitch was keen and hungry as he honed in on the Behemoth¡¯s heart rune.


    The Behemoth readied itself. Chains rattled as it swung, but Mitch¡¯s speed was blinding. Every strike fueled by power he hadn¡¯t realized was possible. He swung, and every hit bit deeper. Mitch carved monstrous flesh and bone with brutal strength.


    This is power.


    Dark ichor poured from the Behemoth¡¯s chest as the wounds widened. Strange, Mitch could see the monster smile as it fought back with intensity.


    ¡°Yes,¡± It struck Mitch in the chest, but he funneled flesh to quickly recover. ¡°Now you see.¡±


    With a furious shout, Mitch leaped and drove his empty soul word directly into the heart rune¡¯s center.


    The blade sank deep with Mitch''s monstrous strength, and the rune shattered in a burst of Abyssal energy. The impact reverberated through the entire Pit, billowing outward in a cascade of power.


    The Behemoth let out a guttural roar. Sounds of pain and rock echoing through the hollow chamber as Its strength waned.


    Finally, the Behemoth fell to its knees. It convulsed violently before Mitch. It¡¯s ichor stained the ground before it. Its red glowing eyes finally began to dim, and its breaths grew shallow.


    Mitch stood before it, ready to finish the monster with one more brutal strike. As he raised his sword for the killing blow, the Behemoth¡¯s voice emerged. A rough vulnerable rumble.


    ¡°Wait,¡± It said. ¡°I have but one request.¡±


    Mitch hesitated. His sword was poised. Rex tugged on his arm, eager to destroy their enemy. Sable watched, energy coursing through her and leaking through ragged breaths.


    The Behemoth¡¯s voice softened. ¡°Protect¡­my soul.¡± it rasped. The plea carried a note of fear Mitch hadn¡¯t expected.


    Mitch stood above the creature.


    To honor a defeated foe¡¯s final plea. Or let this creature¡¯s soul vanish. Back to where it came from. Back down to somewhere in the Abyss.


    ¡°I can no longer bear this torture. To have my soul chained by the Abyss again. And again. Endlessly recycled and spat into...this.¡± the Behemoth groaned and gestured to itself. It then pointed with a giant hand missing a finger, straight to the empty soul sword Mitch brandished.


    ¡°Let me choose my fate. Anything other than being reborn a monster again.¡± the Behemoth said as he met Mitch¡¯s eyes. He was unaware, but his own eyes glowed red back at the monster, the energy rolling through him from his Soul Sacrifice.


    Mitch weighed the decision. He heard the raw desperation in the Behemoth¡¯s voice. Here was a creature that clearly had survived countless trials. Likely at the Front, where Abyssal monsters battled against battle hardened mercenaries. Forever battling the Abyss back in exchange for powerful trinkets, blood, and souls.


    He believed the creature, and felt no deceit in the request. Mitch felt a flicker of recognition, even comraderie with the beast. It was mirror of his own fierce will to defy the Abyss¡¯s chains.


    Mitch struck, putting the entirety of his amplified strength behind the blow.

 Chapter 27: Give It to Me

    The Behemoth¡¯s massive head tumbled to the ground. Its expression was frozen in shock, pain, and a final flicker of a smile.


    Silence settled in the Pit. Mitch lowered his soul sword, breathing fast, and felt his heart hammering against the cage of his chest. The rush of power from the soul he consumed ebbed.


    He¡¯d won. They¡¯d won.


    The Behemoth, a creature bound by chains it could never break, was finally free. A moment later, its giant body crashed to the blood. Blood and ichor pooled around it. Immediately, Rex wanted to leap off him like a hungry hound.


    Hold.


    Mitch reached with Abyssal Vault, and claimed the beast''s soul. A vicious glow poured from the beheaded corpse. It lingered, slow and viscous and larger than any he¡¯d taken before.


    It flowed into his core. And Mitch felt the weight of it¨Cfar more substantial than any beast he¡¯d taken. This was no mere simple creature¡¯s spirit.


    Settlement Amount: 64(+1) Souls, 15 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 39 Flesh.


    It was human. Perhaps elf, dwarf, elf, or giant. Mitch was not sure. But it had been a person once.


    The soul was huge, and Mitch could feel it swirl in his core. It was covered in scars that pulsed faintly across its surface. Each was a mark of battles fought and trials endured. Torment was etched into the soul like wounds that refused to heal. Mitch felt its weight settle into his core with the others, as the heft of the spirit strengthened and emboldened him further.


    Mitch smiled. This soul¡¯s path wasn¡¯t so different from his own. Nor from his body. Whatever the Behemoth had once been, it had fought, survived, and clung to a shred of itself. Before and during the Abyss¡¯s torment of twisting it into the monster it had become.


    He felt its gratitude.


    Or is that relief?


    Rex vibrated against his body, but Mitch hesitated at allowing his Shadowshroud to feast. He felt reverent towards the beast. The soul was something ancient. It had survived hell, even if it was a little broken.


    No. I need every boost of strength I can gather.


    After a moment of respect, Mitch let Rex surge. In a moment of unrestrained hunger and desire, Rex leapt off Mitch''s scar covered torso and whipped towards the large cadaver.


    Rex¡¯s form had grown. He took the shape of a twisted, young pup. Coarse tendrils of inky hair coated his body as he prowled over the Behemoth¡¯s massive body. A single gleaming eye, white and unblinking, stared down at his meal. A dark tendril stretched from Mitch¡¯s side, connecting them like an umbilical cord.


    Rex¡¯s mouth stretched open, jagged and wide. A maw slick with blood and viciously sharp teeth. He crunched down on bone, gnawing hungrily.


    Mitch reached down and pet Rex, who ate in a pool of blood. The Shadowshroud¡¯s body was dense and surprisingly coarse. Each bite bloated his body just a little more. Rex continued to consume the body, his hunger¡¯s end nowhere in sight.


    ¡°Don¡¯t ever take control of me again,¡± Sable spat from behind Rex''s feast.


    He looked up at her. Devoid was still clouding his mind, making her reaction seem silly. ¡°I saved your life. That boulder was going too¨C¡±


    ¡°You were in my head like some¡­puppet master.¡±


    He opened his mouth to respond, but she held up a hand. Her gaze was fierce. ¡°Never again.¡±


    Mitch felt the heat of anger bubble against his cold rationality. Power still hummed thorugh his veins. ¡°I didn¡¯t have a choice, Sable. If I hadn¡¯t acted, you¡¯d be dead. We don¡¯t get to decide to be moral down here.¡±


    Her jaw tightened, but her eyes held something else that Mitch read¨Cfear.


    ¡°It¡¯s not about survival. That¡­control over me? I felt your order like a claw in your mind. And you didn¡¯t hesitate, did you?¡± Sable yelled at him.


    Mitch¡¯s hands curled into fists. ¡°I¡¯m doing what I have to, Sable. You think I wanted this power? You think I asked to become this?¡±


    ¡°Then don¡¯t fucking enjoy it,¡± she snapped. ¡°There¡¯s something¡­dark taking root in you. When you told me to move, it wasn¡¯t a warning. It was control. And a part of you liked it.¡±


    Even though the detached rationality, a part of Mitch understood her sentiment. He had not enjoyed controlling her.


    But how is she supposed to know that?


    Mitch¡¯s gaze hardened. ¡°I did what was necessary. If you can¡¯t handle that, maybe¨C¡±


    ¡°Maybe what?¡± she cut in. ¡°Maybe I¡¯m not cut out for you being able to fucking control me? Maybe I should just accept that you can control me when it suits you? I had no idea that was possible when I agreed to be your ¡°First Follower¡±. I¡¯m a fucking idiot for accepting that.¡±


    Her words stung. He recoiled from her anger. But she did not understand the costs he had been paying. ¡°I saved you, Sable¡­control of not.¡±


    She looked away. Her expression twisted with frustration and betrayal. ¡°Don¡¯t let it twist you.¡±If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Before he could respond and apologize, another voice slithered through the tension.


    ¡°Lovers in paradise, I see,¡± the Warden¡¯s voice sneered from beyond the Abyssal wall. He laughed, the noise filling the Pit where they were trapped. ¡°Here, a little something to savor during your date.¡±


    With a careless toss, the Warden lobbed something through the Abyssal wall. A dented canteen of water and a trap of slop clanged onto the floor. The food splattered everywhere, mingling with the gore and dirt.


    Rex barked loudly at the half-orc and zipped back back over Mitch¡¯s torso. Protecting his master was more important than feasting.


    ¡°Oops,¡± the Warden fake laughed.


    Mitch glared towards the wall as the Warden¡¯s laugh faded. Sable¡¯s words lingered, like a thorn lodged in his chest.


    Sable stared at the grimy, half-congealed slop spread across the Pit floor. Mitch felt only¡­nothing. No hunger. Not even thirst.


    He glanced down at his body, realization settling over him. He didn¡¯t need food. Not in the way he once had.


    A memory surface, half-forgotten: the flesh reserves he¡¯d used to heal, burning away bodies to stitch himself back together. Was that the reason he felt so sustained?


    My needs are disappearing. One by one. Replaced by Abyssal gifts. I¡¯m becoming a creature of will and flesh only.


    ¡°Give it a rest,¡± Sable¡¯s voice cut back to the Warden. She glared toward the wall, her defiance a faint spark in the dimness. But he could sense her unease.


    Does the same work for Sable¡­? Does she feel it too?


    Mitch could feel the Warden¡¯s pull on the edges of his core. The man toyed with him as he pointed his pen at him subtly. The Warden¡¯s reach clawed at the Behemoth¡¯s soul within him, slowly prying them free. Mitch¡¯s spine tensed as the Warden¡¯s reach clawed at him, like invisible fingers digging in.


    ¡°Oh look at you,¡± the Warden¡¯s voice slithered in, taunting, ¡°doing so well, aren¡¯t you, little doggy? Collecting so well.¡± He chuckled darkly, and Mitch felt him sharpening his grip. ¡°And all for me.¡±


    A chill sank into Mitch¡¯s bones as the Warden latched onto the souls, and ripped them out.


    A hot, searing pain ripped through him as the souls tore free from his core. Souls howled through the thick rope of tendrils that extended from his chest.


    ¡°Give It to me,¡± the Warden drawled. ¡°Hand them over.¡±


    Mitch gritted his teeth. He tried to fight against the invisible hands tearing at his insides. His fingers dug into his pals as he strained to keep hold to no avail. Against the searing anguish of the souls torn away by the Warden, Mitch held onto one with raw resolve.


    Mitch wasn¡¯t about to surrender to the Behemoth. He had made a promise.


    Not this time.


    With a surge of will, Mitch reached for the Behemoth¡¯s siphoning soul, and refused to let it go. He felt the weight of it¨Ca heavy, scarred presence. Resilient as it clung firmly to the walls of his ore. Unwilling to return into the hands of the Abyss.


    Through the fog of emotions he felt from the souls he was losing, he pushed his remaining strength to shove the Behemoth¡¯s soul into his sword.


    The soul was huge. Scarred and raw. A raging storm of memories and old battles. Mitch¡¯s will drew it into the sword like liquid fire. Against the anguish he felt from the souls he could not hold onto. Those taken by the Warden.


    The sword pulsed in his hand with new, dark energy. The Behemoth¡¯s defiant soul filled the empty vessel. Shadows swirled around the hilt, solidifying as they consumed its essence, binding it into the empty vessel.


    Power rippled through it, dark veins surging up the blade. A low hum echoed up to the base of his skull like a satisfied settling. Mitch felt the sword grow hot to the touch, but he gripped it tighter in his palm.


    ¡®My name is¡­Galadrith.¡¯


    The soul¡¯s name drifted into his mind, ancient and unwavering from the depths. Galadrith¡¯s presence was massive and powerful. The soul lent the blade a terrible weight. Mitch felt a strange reverence pulse through him, an intensity he had never known.


    A faint warmth, a hint of pride.


    ¡®Roomier in here than I thought. Quite nice, really.¡¯ Galadrith¡¯s voice rumbled, low and unbroken, resonating from the sword¡¯s depths. A resonance Mitch felt as much as heard in his mind. He panted from the strain of souls being ripped out of him, their lives having flashed through his mind during the struggle.


    Then came the Warden¡¯s fury. The man¡¯s voice rose, no longer smooth but spluttering with rage.


    ¡°You dare¨C¡± the voice thundered, ¡°I command it, you worm! That soul is mine!¡±


    Settlement Amount: 0 Souls, 0 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 39 Flesh.


    Active Debt: -1,002,664* -> --934,498*


    The feeling surged again. Some horrifying pulled at Mitch¡¯s core, but it was empty. Nothing but flesh to claim. The Warden howled in frustration, the sound echoing through the pit like a shattering storm.


    ¡°Do you think you have this figured out?¡± the Warden¡¯s voice seethed, shaking with rage. ¡°I will break you, and your little girlfriend for this. Butcher!¡±


    Up on the perch a heavy figure emerged. Butcher¡¯s bloated form loomed against the dim light. He grinned, fat face squeezing in a horrifying smush. The pigman breathed heavily, panting at the trot he had to take.


    ¡°Yes, boss?¡± Butcher¡¯s voice slithered out obediently.


    The Warden¡¯s voice was cold. ¡°Release the back room. The ones we keep locked away.¡±


    A brief hesitation hung in the air. Even Butcher seemed taken aback. ¡°Are¡­are you sure, boss?¡±


    The Warden¡¯s voice hardened. ¡°Yes. Every single one.¡±


    Butcher¡¯s grin widened, a look of depraved joy twisting his features. He nodded quickly, and hulked away. The pigman¡¯s vile chuckles faded into the shadows as he went to obey his master.


    ¡°We will make sure you are better behaved. Let¡¯s hope you survive.¡± With that, the Warden walked off.


    Mitch was weary from the souls ripped out of him, but triumphant at protecting the Behemoth¡¯s soul. He tightened his grip on the hilt, feeling Galadrith¡¯s violent anticipation feeding into his resolve.


    ¡®I can¡¯t wait to kill that fat pig. He¡­smells.¡¯ Galadrith growled, the words rolling through Mitch¡¯s mind like the threat of a storm.


    ¡°Ready?¡± Mitch asked Sable.


    ¡°We have no idea what he¡¯s about to throw at us,¡± Sable said tensely. ¡°And this time, I¡¯m not a pawn you can push around.¡± She held his gaze.


    Mitch met her eyes, and slowly nodded. ¡°I know,¡± he said softly. ¡°This time¡­it¡¯s different.¡±


    He tightened his grip around the soul sword as he inspected the perch. Rex was an excited presence in his mind, swirling on his body in tight, flexible armor.


    ¡°Once we¡¯re done with this, we¡¯re taking the fight to them.¡± He gave Sable an apologetic smile and nodded towards the perch.


    ¡°Together.¡±

 Chapter 28: No youre not

    Two days passed and the Abyssal creatures continued to flow in a frothing wave. The ever increasing debt was a sick joke of a clock to inform Mitch of his continual Abyssal Debt. Mitch and Sable kept their hunger and thirst clear by healing themselves with flesh from Mitch''s reserves.


    Active Debt: -934,498* > -935,830*


    The Monsters twisted forms rippled with malice and strength. Mitch braced his exposed flesh, Rex¡¯s weight bundled against his back like a shield of seething anger.


    The hound¡¯s dark tendrils pressed protectively against Mitch. He was eager to cover his master, but Mitch had already convinced Rex to hold his position as he allowed the monsters to land hit after bloody hit. He needed to be as strong as possible.


    Each tear, slash, and stab jarred Mitch¡¯s body. Blood poured, the monsters stronger than the last wave. But with each blow he took, Agony¡¯s Embrace flared. Every strike of pain was twisted and channeled back into Mitch with intensity. It was pouring fuel into an already raging fire. His body absorbed it all. Every wound was a spark that turned to permanent resilience.


    Affliction Skill Upgraded


    Agony¡¯s Embrace


    Level 7(+1)


    Pain is power. Harness every drop of suffering, turning agony into unrelenting strength. Your torment permanently fortifies your body and amplifies your strength.


    Your acceptance of pain strengthens your resolve.


    Consume Souls or Flesh to heal your Body


    Power over life. Power over death. Souls may fuel what flesh alone cannot. Sacrifice the willing and rebuild what was lost.


    Finally.


    Rex trembled against him, frustrated. Mitch could feel the hound¡¯s anger and impatience. An insatiable hunger to rend and tear the enemies that bit and tore at his master. Mitch held fast, healing the worst of the damage as he let the Abyss¡¯s dark gifts sink into his bones.


    He was becoming an immovable wall of pain and survival, and smiled darkly at his own lack of flinching.


    Not flinching now, am I?


    Settlement Amount: 312(+21) Souls, 342(+18) Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 381 (-4) Flesh.


    Sable dangled from a rock embedded in the infinitely high wall of the Pit. Her threaded-on hands glowed with the eerie purple of her Fracture skill that she sent into the mass of monsters tearing at Mitch. The lines of purple that appeared detonated against thick, rotten skin, tearing it apart in explosions of energy and surgical slices. For her efforts, Sable was growing much stronger as well.


    She pivoted mid-air, shifting the energy in her hands, and slashed horizontally. A sharp wave of Fracture sliced straight through a monster about to bite Mitch¡¯s face.


    Sable¡¯s skill had leveled up, giving her the choice between explosive blasts and razor-sharp slashes. She adapted and practiced her skills as Mitch cultivated his own strength. She moved with confidence, her eyes glinting with the satisfaction of seeing the devastation she left in her wake.


    Yet there was a look of something darker in her eyes as she fought¨Ca cautious, simmering edge as she glanced at Mitch. That control he¡¯d exerted over her still lingered in her thoughts.


    One creature¨Ca skeletal thing with far too many eye holes¨Clatched onto Mitch¡¯s arm with a bite. Rex snarled, but Mitch ignored the beast¡¯s fangs tearing into his flesh. The pain no longer registered the same way it once had. Sable dispatched the creature with a Fracture that sliced through its skull with surgical precision. She offered him a small smile and continued her destruction.


    She¡¯s coming around¡­won¡¯t be going anywhere near her mind again though¡­


    Mitch adjusted his grip on the now full sword. Galadrith¡¯s presence filled the blade like a steady pulse. The soul did not just just sit dormant. It was alive, watching, instructing.


    ¡°Brute strength alone lacks finesse. Wait for the opening.¡± Galadrith¡¯s voice murmured.


    A monstrous creature lunged at him, spiked limbs swinging wildly. Mitch¡¯s instinct was to strike, but Galadrith¡¯s guidance kept him steady. He sidestepped the blow, pivoted, and struck in a clean, swift motion. Blood sprayed as the creature staggered, a gaping wound exploding from Sable¡¯s Fracture. Mitch took deep satisfaction in the ruthless efficiency of the move.


    ¡°Yes¡­do not waste energy on flashy moves. Precision and control. This is the mark of a true warrior.¡±


    A large monster snarled and lunged forward, talons swiping Mitch¡¯s chest. He punched it in its face, sending it backwards. Slashing downwards, the blade cleaved through the creature¡¯s arm in a single, brutal arc. It stumbled back, ichor spilling from the stump. A flash of fear in its twisted eyes as it tried to retreat.


    ¡°Oh no you don¡¯t.¡± Galadrith¡¯s voice rumbled with satisfaction in Mitch¡¯s mind.


    A thick, dark chain shot out from the sword¡¯s hilt, hooking around the creature¡¯s ankle and yanking it back in a slow chunk.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    Soul Sword Skill Unlocked


    Galadrith¡¯s Chains


    Mitch¡¯s eyes widened as the chain tightened, binding the monster and dragging it back towards him. It struggled helplessly as the other monsters continued to tear into his body.


    ¡°Is that Galadrith? That¡¯s copying me, Gal! I thought we were pals now. Don¡¯t steal my style.¡± Sable barked out a laugh, cutting through some of the tension that she and Mitch had.


    ¡°Do you see? You have chosen wisely as this blade¡¯s inhabitant.¡± Gal chuckled in Mitch¡¯s mind.


    The chain held the creature in place before him, and Mitch finished it with a swift strike through its neck. The monster crumpled to the ground. Mitch felt a thrill of power, a visceral satisfaction in controlling the battlefield with such finesse. Galadrith¡¯s power allowed him to reshape the fight to his advantage, and break retreating enemies.


    The control was tempting, an intoxicating taste of dominance that whispered to him.


    ¡°Do not let the thought consume you,¡± Galadrith warned. ¡°Control is but a veil. To grasp at it is to shackle oneself in its clutches, blinding yourself. One must simply act in a way that exhibits control without thought. We will get there.¡±


    Mitch steadied himself. This was survival, not a place to indulge.


    Behind him, Rex growled in frustration, his form still bundled against Mitch¡¯s back. His energy radiated with barely contained aggression.


    ¡°Let him out, already. I can hear him all the way from up here.¡± Sable offered from where she hung as she tied down another monster with her wires before popping its head like a berry.


    Go, and be safe, Mitch relented mentally to Rex. The Shadowshroud sprang forward. A dark, wiry shadow that leapt from his back with frightening speed.


    The hound¡¯s form had grown lean and muscular, each limb coiled with power. After consuming the Behemoth¡¯s body, Rex¡¯s density had increased. As had the hounds viciousness.


    Rex¡¯s pup body now moved with the lethal grace of a predator. His tendril hair lashed out as he dove into the horde, jaws snapping, tearing through the nearest monster with a brutally strong jaw.


    Blood and ichor sprayed as Rex¡¯s maw clamped down, shaking a small monster dead with a bite and a violent shake of his head. He moved like a blue, darting between creatures and tearing into them. Rex was no longer a fledgling replacement for a shirt. The beast had grown alongside Mitch, and was now a force in his own right. Mitch wondered what Rex might eventually become.


    Mitch watched, pride filled as Rex tore through his share of the monsters. The hound¡¯s ferocity mirrored his own hunger for strength.


    With Rex connected to him, Sable¡¯s mix of skills to trap and slaughter, Mitch¡¯s strength growing continually, and Galadrith¡¯s wisdom and power, he felt ready to break out of the Pit.


    Rex chewed through the throat of a monster, Sable sliced and blew apart the remaining monsters, and Mitch brutally cut through those hurting him in front of him.


    He wondered when the horde wave would stop. It had been coming for days now, and Mitch was done with being a prisoner.


    Mitch siphoned the souls and bodies of their fallen. He pulled Flesh across wounds the monster¡¯s had managed. Fresh scars were added to his body, and Mitch felt a morbid fascination at his still changing body.


    Settlement Amount: 355(+21) Souls, 359(+17) Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 418(+27) Flesh.


    The remaining monsters hung back, cowering as they assessed the carnage before them. He raised his blade, and met their glowing eyes with a challenge.


    ¡°Step up, and die.¡± He said coldly.


    The creatures stirred, eyes glinting with a mixture of fear and rage. Sable descended from her wire beside him, her stance confident and steady. Rex leapt back from the body he consumed and covered Mitch. He transformed to perfectly placed dark armor that coated Mitch¡¯s scarred, strong frame.


    I am not alone any longer. Mitch thought, feeling the power of his allies bolster his resolve. Each member, Sable, Rex, Galadrith¨Cthey lent him strength that felt unbreakable. He would crush the Abyss for ripping souls out of him, and protect those that he could.


    One of the monsters, a skinny beast with scarred flesh and multiple mutated limbs, took a shambling step forward. Far too many legs made it look like a malformed human spider hybrid.


    Instead of charging, it paused, and lifted its horrifying head to meet Mitch¡¯s eye. There was intelligence there. A spark of autonomy fighting against its monstrous instincts. Mitch felt like he was watching a willful prisoner that had begun to hate its chains.


    In a broken voice, the creature rasped, barely making sense. ¡°Join¡­you? Can..us?¡±


    Mitch¡¯s taunt faded on his lips as he stared back at the cowering beasts. For a moment, he considered rushing the monsters and ending them where they stood. To claim their bodies and souls to further his own development.


    But the creature held his gaze, its grotesque eyes filled with a strange, desperate defiance.


    Behind the creature, the remaining horde stirred restlessly. This was a hint of rebellion. The idea of an ally within the Abyss was shocking to Mitch.


    His eyes narrowed, a flicker of empathy breaking through his hardened exterior. These monsters weren¡¯t just mindless drones; some still held a will of their own.


    And some, hopefully, weren¡¯t just content with the chains the Abyss had forced upon them.


    ¡°Interesting, isn¡¯t it?¡± Sable said softly, ¡°Even the Abyss breaking and using souls¡­you still can¡¯t suppress a creature''s will¡­not fully at least.¡±


    Mitch weighed his options, watching as the creature edged forward. It was hesitant but determined. He could see the loyalty shift in its eyes¨Ca glimmer of possibility.


    ¡°You¡¯ve had a taste of power, but there is always more. You could command them¡­¡± Galadrith¡¯s voice trailed through his mind, the faint thrill in it nearly tangible.


    Rex sat on him like slick plate, watching the creatures cowering with interest. Here were other monsters that seemed to not want to harm his master, and join him in service.


    Mitch walked up to the shambling mess of a creature. It had far too many legs. Its eyes were incredibly far apart. It was skinny and underfed. He looked past it at the others.


    Creatures of all shapes and horrors, all hewn together by the Abyss¡¯s cruel hand.


    He saw them. Sparks of intelligence, subtle glimmers of autonomy flickering within the shadows.


    He slotted Galadrith onto his back. The act was more than practical; it was a gesture. A sign of trust.


    If these monsters could rebel, perhaps his own fate wasn¡¯t sealed.


    ¡°Prove your loyalty, then,¡± Mitch challenged, and reached for the Abyssal creature¡¯s mind with Abyssal Bind.

 Chapter 29: Pit Break

    The bond with his new minions felt alive in Mitch¡¯s mind. Their wills were silent voices waiting for a command. Each one felt like a tiny connection he could now reach and tap into with ease.


    Abyssal Bind


    Level 4(+1)


    Exert command over Abyssal beings and draw others into a permanent bond.


    Followers: Create lasting connections with chosen beings. Extend your influence and power over them.


    Requirements: True allegiance must be granted willingly.


    Minions: Abyssal Mice: 4, Abyssal Fodder: 5


    Followers: Sable (The First Follower)


    Mitch could sense the change. Abyssal Bind wasn¡¯t simply a connected leash¡ªeach creature¡¯s allegiance, accepted willingly, lent strength to the bond, transforming it into something deeper. He glanced at Sable, who was tying multiple wires together. Her eyes met his, and then he looked over his new minions.


    He could lead them. Or command them.


    It was a straightforward word, but this connection felt like leadership with the potential for force. When they¡¯d submitted, each of his Abyssal minions had been cloaked momentarily in a shadowy aura, their bodies recognizing the pact without losing their sense of self.


    Sable watched him as she readied her wire, preparing to scale the Pit walls. Mitch caught her expression. Her fear mixed with oddly morbid respect at what he''d done. She had just witnessed the power Abyssal Bind afforded him, and the influence he wielded over these creatures of darkness.


    But Mitch wanted more than mindless drones. He would be better than the Abyss and its method of breaking those it had in its clutches.


    ¡°You are right in your assumption. If you copy the Abyss¡¯s methods, you are no better than It. You cannot break something by becoming it.¡± Galadrith murmured in his ears.


    ¡°I get it, Galadrith. You¡¯re a wise old sage.¡± Mitch spoke aloud to the soul sword.


    ¡°Lead the way. You,¡± Sable pointed at the creature who had first stepped forward, ¡°Up to there,¡± she gestured to the Pit wall and then considered the creature with far too many limbs. ¡°What¡­what is your name?¡±


    The grotesque creature froze at the question. For a being of the Abyss, it was an odd reaction, as if it didn''t quite understand. It blinked its many eyes that stretched around its twisted face.


    ¡°Name?...Once,¡± it rasped, a pained emotion taking over the creature. ¡°I was¡­Varak.¡± The creature tilted its head. The word had rolled out with a note of pride.


    Sable¡¯s expression softened as she processed its words. ¡°Well then, Varak,¡± she nodded towards the wall. ¡°Lead the way.¡±


    With a series of clicks and an eager huff, Varak clambered up the rock wall. It carried Sable¡¯s wire in one of its many claws. Other Abyssal minions followed suit. They formed a line, a chain of dark forms working in harmony and scampering up the rockfaced wall.


    Mitch felt their excitement through the bond. A faint, shared pride in their purpose. These weren¡¯t mindless beasts, and now, neither were they shackled to the mind of the Abyss.


    One by one, they began the climb up Sable¡¯s wires. Varak and the other creatures stabilized cables and secured footholds.


    Mitch and Sable followed, climbing using Sable''s secured wires that the Abyssal creatures had wound against the facia.


    Mitch glanced down one last time at the Pit as they neared the perch.


    It was a graveyard of withered bodies and the blood pool shimmering in the dim light. He considered it.


    He stretched out his hand, tapping into his Abyssal Vault skill. Mitch felt the distance stretching to its limits. A mental tether formed, thin and barely there, until he felt the distant pull of the blood pool. Before his eyes the tendril of viscous liquid flowed into him and drained the pool.


    Settlement Amount: 355 Souls, 359 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 830(+413) Flesh.


    It would serve them well in whatever trials awaited.


    Mitch was last onto the Perch, following Sable. The Abyssal minions waited eagerly and faced him awaiting instruction.


    As Mitch stood on the Perch and overlooked the Pit, a memory bubbled up. Hazy, and drifting up from somewhere in his body. He remembered standing there before. Overlooking the Pit. But¡­it was teeming with life. Voices called out and roared, but their faces and forms were blurred. Caught behind some veil just beyond his mind''s reach. They were shouting, and obscured bodies were streaming against the endless drop that led to the Pit.


    Something was in the pool he had emptied, but the memory didn¡¯t pierce far enough to know what.


    My body has been here. Right here. Overlooking the Pit.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    ¡°Mitch,¡± Sable¡¯s voice cut through his thoughts. He blinked, and the shadowy memory flipped back into the depths of his body. Leaving only a chill behind.


    With the Pit behind them, the group faced a long, twisting tunnel that stretched into blackness.


    Mitch nodded to Varak, who smiled twistedly, before the creature took the lead. Its limbs scrambled over the rocky floo with uncanny skill. The other minions followed close, and Mitch brought up the read.


    Into the dark passage only illuminated by badly interspersed glowstones, Mitch noticed subtle shifts in their movements. Even his monstrous minions, accustomed to the horrors of the Abyss, moved cautiously. One creature¡¯s eyes darted nervously as it searched the shadows.


    The further they ventured, the more aware Mitch because of the horrid weight that pressed from ahead. The damp tunnel walls practically throbbed with unspoken nightmares.


    Varak and the others pressed forward, but they did cast nervous glances back.


    ¡°Sir¡­Butcher¡­the pig¡­will be¡­there,¡± Varak grunted through their broken mouth. ¡°He... very strong.¡±


    Mitch exchanged a look with Sable, who raised an eyebrow. ¡°If they¡¯re nervous¡­¡± she started.


    ¡°Whatever Butcher throws at us, we will deal with it. Besides, wouldn¡¯t you like to strangle him too? They¡¯re recycling souls, Sable.¡± Mitch interrupted.


    Her nervous face was immediately replaced with fury. Mitch noted the heavy clench of her jaw as she turned and tramped ahead.


    The ground was littered with peculiar objects. There was twisted metal scraps, smooth stones etched with strange symbols, pulsing fleshy masses.


    Mitch scooped up a few small stones, pocketing them. Their surfaces were cracked but marked with intricate symbols that glowed under his touch. Robin¡¯s request to collect trinkets had not been forgotten. Their purpose was unknown to him, but Mitch could feel their raw, feral power pulsating off of them.


    ¡°These relics¡­,¡± Sable observed, picking up a rusted metal knife that had long been discarded. ¡°These are worth fortunes, Mitch.¡±


    Mitch felt the faint pull of Galadrith¡¯s approval. The sword sensed Mitch¡¯s readiness to turn anything, even the scraps they found, into weapons or tools.


    Pressing forward, Mitch clutched the relics in his hand.


    Cold, merciless resolve settled over him. He was here to break his newfound squad free of this prison, and save Hathgar as well.


    If I can find him¡­


    ¡°What lies ahead, Varak?¡± Mitch called out to the creature as they led the minions towards the front.


    ¡°Prison.¡± Varak rasped as their head turned completely around as it continued to walk forward, meeting Mitch¡¯s eyes. ¡°Not¡­good. Nothing¡­good, there.¡± Varak¡¯s head turned back around and It pressed forward with newfound energy.


    ¡°What''s waiting for us in this prison?¡± Sable asked.


    Varak¡¯s head twisted back, mismatched eyes blinking in slow, eerie unison. ¡°Imagine¡­Pit within Pit. Abyss¡­does not look there.¡±


    ¡°Comforting.¡± Sable responded.


    Varak¡¯s laugh was a disturbing mix of clicks and giggles. ¡°Comfort? You find¡­screams¡­families too.¡±


    ¡°What do they keep in there, Varak?¡± Mitch asked, trying to discern the creature¡¯s meaning.


    ¡°Things like me,¡± Varak replied with a gleam in Its eye. ¡°Creatures¡­that have done wrong. Made mistake. Butcher smell bad¡­for a reason,¡± the other minions laughed at the joke Mitch and Sable missed. ¡°He eat¡­everything. Yes. All.¡±


    They continued down the winding, dimly lit tunnel as the temperature dropped. A dangerous chill had seeped into the stone. Mitch could sense the prison before he could see it.


    Faint sounds of chains clinking and monstrous roars echoed from the distance.


    The tunnel ended in an arch in the wall. It was carved from dark, bone-streaked stone in a mind-bending pattern. A sickly green glow emanated from the edges, bathing the entrance in light.


    Mitch¡¯s eyes sharpened, every instinct sharpening as he took in the scene.


    Varak pointed a claw towards the entrance. ¡°Welcome,¡± it said with sarcastic delight. ¡°Abyss...hospitality¡­friendly place!¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re going to work on that sense of humor, buddy,¡± Mitch rumbled to the creature. The other minions cackled and placed themselves around Mitch, forming a protective barrier.


    Sable swallowed, her face set with determination. Mitch felt the weight of Galadrith in his hand, and Rex¡¯s strong presence covering him in a protective layer. The Shadowshroud growled in his mind at the arch.


    A faint but familiar sound drifted through the air. A mocking laugh that sent a chill through Mitch¡¯s spine.


    It was Butcher. The pigman was cackling somewhere in the depths of the prison. His booming voice mixed with the roars of unknown monsters.


    ¡°Hathgar is somewhere in there,¡± Mitch gritted through his teeth. He glanced at Sable and his minions, all poised and tense, their eyes locked onto the giant closed entrance.


    His allies were ready, and in that moment, Mitch realized this alliance might be the only way he¡¯d survive whatever lay ahead.


    Mitch gathered himself. He took a step forward towards the door. It stood like a closed off beast ready to devour them whole. With a final shared look with Sable, she offered him a small smile.


    ¡°Fuck these people,¡± Sable said through tight lips..


    ¡°Yeah!..Fuck.¡± Varak joined in and flexed their claws. The Abyssal creature was practically humming with violent energy, faced towards the door.


    Mitch stood in front of the Warden¡¯s prison door. Where the man had his own minion send monsters to slaughter. To then be farmed out of Mitch¡¯s core in some twisted game of recycling.


    He let the rage of his debt build inside of him. For just this moment, Mitch allowed the anger of his bodily inheritance fill him to the brim.


    Whoever had brought him here and placed the curse upon him would pay.


    Butcher¡­and then the Warden is a good place to start.


    As Mitch stood before the prison doors, letting it simmer to a boiling point, he activated Soul Sacrifice. A soul ignited, burned away forever, and seared through his veins.


    His minions responded as well¨Ctheir multiple eyes rolled as the intensity of energy poured into them. Sable¡¯s breath hitched as she felt the raw force from him. Mitch had a feeling every ounce of strength would be required to beat what lay ahead.


    ¡°It¡¯s time to get out of here,¡± Mitch said to his ragtag squad.


    ¡°Go. Show them why they should fear us.¡± Galadrith¡¯s voice murmured through his mind.

 Chapter 30: Gristle and Bars

    Mitch pushed his Abyssal Bind power, sending it weaving through the tunnel walls and floor. While beating down the door with raw strength was what he wanted to do, taking a more secretive approach was likely better. He felt the small flames of wills all around him, more dense in their number here than anywhere else. Mitch clamped down and pulled them out of the walls.


    A mass of Abyssal Bugs spilled forth from unseen cracks and crevices. Tiny legs clicked against the damp stone in front of the prison doors. They crawled to him in waves, forming a dark, shifting cloud that waited at his feet. His Abyssal Bind had summoned them, and now their small wills belonged to him.


    Minions: Abyssal Mice: 4, Abyssal Fodder: 4, Abyssal Bugs: 423(+423)


    He directed them to the base of the iron door. The bugs moved, pincers clicking in unison, tiny mouths gnashing as they bit into the door¡¯s seams and edges.


    ¡°I still can¡¯t get over that,¡± Sable bemoaned, eyeing the swarm with revulsion and fascination. ¡°Disgusting, but effective.¡±


    Varak let out a clicking laugh, their many eyes prideful. ¡°Pretty!...Like Abyssal flowers,¡± Varak crooned. One of the bugs climbed up Varak¡¯s spindly arm and perched on their shoulder.


    Mitch spared Varak a glance, amused by their affection for creatures of the Abyss. Reaching further with his mind, he called out for his other minions. Across the vast network of tunnels and shadows, his call extended. He had been drawing them closer the past days, and now it was time his other minions earned their keep.


    Abyssal Mice appeared, scurrying down the hallway, darting through crevices to join the throng before the door. They waited in silence before Mitch, their dark whiskers twitching.


    The bugs had worn away a small opening. Mitch nodded at the mice, and sent a directive through their bond.


    Check it out. Signal if it¡¯s clear.


    The mice slipped through the gap, silent as shadows. Mitch could feel their movements with his mind. The connection buzzed faintly as they explored from the other side of the door. After a few moments, they signaled back¨Call clear.


    Satisfied, Mitch gestured to the gap. ¡°Let¡¯s go. Quietly.¡±


    The acrid scent of decay hit them as they ducked into the narrow entry.


    As Mitch led the way, the rock amplified each growl and rattle of chains of the inhabitants. The ceiling stretched far above, lost in shadow, and rows of cells pressed along the walls. Each held twisted creatures within. What little light there was cast shadows that writhed from pained energy.


    In one cell, a creature with half its face missing snarled weakly, its one remaining eye following Mitch¡¯s every move. Another held a hulking figure slumped against the wall. Its arms were bound in twisted metal restraints that dug into its muscle.


    Some creatures¡¯ limbs had been fused directly into the stone walls, their broken bodies barely able to move. Yet their eyes shone with hate and suffering. These were not just prisoners. They were remnants of experiments and brutality. It only made Mitch¡¯s rage grow. Even if they were Abyssal creatures, what good was torture without an end result?


    The squad moved as silently as they could through the prison.


    As they moved deeper, the horrors only grew. Some cells seemed¡­alive. The walls pulsed and twitched, patches of rotten flesh grown over stone like moss. They seemed aware, flinching slightly as Mitch approached an empty one. He felt the faint, nauseating throb. The pulse of some giant, unseen heart resonating throughout the chamber.


    In other cells, creatures mutated by Abyssal experiments huddled in corners. Their bodies were altered beyond sense. One creature had three arms sticking out from a single soulder. Another¡¯s face was a patchwork of scars, mismatched eyes, and fused jaws. Some had appendages grafted onto them¨Cbony claws, horns, even additional small heads that leered out from behind shoulders. Typically Abyssal monsters were terrifying to look at, but this went beyond the pale.


    Varak and the other minions clung to the shadows. Their eyes darted between the ominous symbols scrawled onto the walls with blood.


    They paused, pointing a claw toward a dark sigil. ¡°This..,¡± Varak murmured. ¡°Harvest day. It is¡­Butcher¡­fun day. He pick. He...have fun. And eat.¡±


    Each twisted cell told a story of torment. When available with space, Butcher had scrawled crude messages for his prisoners. ¡°Butcher¡¯s Shop is Open.¡±


    Sable let out a slow breath. Mitch clenched his fists, feeling the anger build within him. This prison was an affront to anything resembling humanity and sense.


    Butcher¡¯s mocking laugh echoed through the dark corridors. The pigman was some ways away, but every cackle grated Mitch¡¯s heart. He wanted to see the horrors before he met the man. To truly look upon what he was fighting.


    Varak hesitated in the shadows. Mitch noticed the creature¡¯s unease and glanced at them, his expression questioning.


    Sable looked at Varak. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    Varak¡¯s many eyes blinked, each movement slow and deliberate. ¡°My¡­children,¡± she rasped, her voice almost breaking. ¡°They¡­are here.¡±


    It made sense to Mitch. Varak was a mother, and had clung to a hope of salvation in Mitch.


    Sable¡¯s brow furrowed in confusion. ¡°Children? In the Abyss?¡±


    Varak gave a pained nod. ¡°Yes. Even here.¡± her voice softened. ¡°Souls also made in the Abyss, not¡­just used.¡±


    ¡°Take us there. Now.¡± Mitch¡¯s anger seeped out of his voice.


    ¡°Yes?!¡± Varak¡¯s excitement was palpable as her request went unspoken. With what appeared to be a smile, she took off, and they followed.


    The revelation hung heavy in Mitch¡¯s mind. Somehow, Varak¡¯s maternal instinct had survived. A testament to the fragments of humanity in her tortured soul.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Following Varak¡¯s lead, they reached a twisted iron cage tucked into a dark corner of the prison. It was almost obscured behind fleshy moss that covered the cage.


    Inside, small creatures huddled together. Mitch could see the resemblance. Each bore some of Varak¡¯s features. The odd number of limbs, the mismatched eyes. Scuttling spider-like bodies. They shrank back at first, then rushed forward, clawing desperately to reach their mother through the bars.


    ¡°Mother¡­¡± one of the creatures whispered.


    Varak reached a clawed hand through the bars, her touch gentle. The small creatures pressed against her mutated hand. Sable¡¯s expression softened, while Mitch¡¯s hardened.


    Varak tried the lock, her claws scraping against the metal. Frustration boiled over, and she let out a low pout, pulling her hands back in frustration. ¡°I cannot¡­open.¡±


    Mitch stepped forward, gripping Galadrith¡¯s hilt. The sword hummed with barely restrained fury. ¡°Let me,¡± Mitch said coldly.


    He raised Galadrith, and Mitch felt the sword harden in his hand. There was a simmering rage within the sword, but Gal refused to speak. With a controlled strike, the lock was sliced through, and clattered to the floor. The cage door swung open.


    The small creatures rushed out, swarming around Varak. They clung to her legs and torso like a misshapen brood. Despite their appearance, the moment carried a bittersweet tenderness. Varak was a creature forged in darkness. She was surrounded by her children in a show of primal love.


    Sable watched, smiling. ¡°I didn¡¯t think¡­¡± She trailed off. ¡°Even in this place. There¡¯s parts of you that refused to give up.¡±


    Varak cradled her children close, her eyes meeting Mitch¡¯s. ¡°Thank. Sir.¡± She managed, her voice filled with a depth of gratitude that caught even Mitch off guard.


    As Varak¡¯s children clung to her, Mitch felt something stir within him. A memory from deep inside. Belonging to his body, not him. He could almost feel himself standing there. Gazing over this same space, though it was¡­different. No cells, no chains. The rows stretched on, but they were shrouded in shadow, faces too indistinct to see, slipping away as he tried to grasp them. Just out of reach. Again.


    ¡°Mitch?¡± Sable¡¯s voice broke the trance. He blinked, the scene fading back into the shadows of his mind.


    This wasn¡¯t always a prison¡­


    Mitch gave Varak a curt nod. Some bonds were unbreakable. Varak¡¯s connection to her children were threads that even the Abyss hadn¡¯t severed. He could feel the weight of Galadrith in his hand, mirroring his own growing resolve.


    And for Varak, those bonds had fueled her resolve to take a chance on Mitch¡¯s character. It had paid off for the creature.


    Mitch stood there, absorbing the horrors around him. Tension kept his muscles taught as he surveyed the prison. His eyes, dark with fury, swept over the cells and mangled creatures.


    Freeing every one of them¨Cit isn¡¯t feasible. I don¡¯t know if they would be loyal or attack. Just because they¡¯re here, doesn¡¯t mean they would turn to me.


    The only way to end the torment was to kill the head of the beast. They might be Abyssal beasts, but they did not deserve the brutality of Butcher.


    Butcher. Warden.


    For a moment, Mitch thought of taking the secretive approach. To sneak up on Butcher, but the thought quickly died.


    The Abyss¡¯s darkness fueled him. It was raw and uncontainable within his body. This wasn¡¯t a time for stealth. It was a time for reckoning.


    Always forward.


    ¡°Sable,¡± he said, voice tight with anger. ¡°We¡¯re going to take him head on.¡±


    Sable looked at him, her eyes narrowing with concern. ¡°Don¡¯t let this get out of hand, Mitch. We need you to be measured, not reckless. Not again.¡±


    He nodded slowly. But the cold fire in his belly made it clear he wasn¡¯t going to hold back. The souls in his core fueled his anger, urging him to go on and destroy. Rex just wanted to fight.


    Galadrith hummed with anticipation, ¡°Kill the pigman. First. I request his soul.¡± the soul sword whispered with a dark eagerness.


    Mitch¡¯s lips curled into a grim smile as he reached for his core. A few souls pressed forward, offering themselves up for Mitch¡¯s power.


    He ignited another Soul Sacrifice. Raw power surged through his muscles and ignited his heart. The strength stretched outwards. His minions shuddered in response to the wave of energy. Sable growled low, her own anger showing.


    In the distance, he heard Butcher¡¯s mocking cackles echo through the hall. The man was torturing a creature in the distance.


    Find him, Mitch ordered the mice he controlled.


    They scattered down the hallways, vanishing into the shadows with their inky dur. He felt their scuttling forms scurrying through cells, searching out the laughter.


    Mitch didn''t wait. He charged down the central corridor, Galadrith gleaming with a dark light. His Abyssal Minions fell in behind him, a tide of twisted forms driven by his unyielding will. Varak hesitated only a moment before following, her children clinging tightly to her as she moved.


    Sable cursed under her breath but sprinted after them, her wires already unfurling in preparation. The bugs followed in a mass at the rear.


    As they advanced, the prison awakened. Cells rattled as imprisoned creatures sensed the upheaval. Their howls and screams rose in a chaotic chorus.


    Galadrith''s voice urged him on. "Yes... let the Abyss tremble at our approach. Let him know that retribution comes."


    The laughter of Butcher grew louder as he followed the direction his mice sent him.


    He let out a roar, the sound reverberating throughout the prison walls. ¡°Butcher! Your time is up!¡± His voice echoed like thunder. A challenge that shook the walls themselves.


    The laughter from the pigman stopped. The groaning of the monsters persisted.


    Mitch could feel the distance closing between himself and Butcher. The bond with his mice guided him unerringly, every step bringing him closer to his target.


    He burst into a vast chamber, the space illuminated by a sickly purple glow that surrounded Butcher.


    The Butcher was a mountain of filth and flesh. Bloated muscle protected by lump fat and oily sweat. His face was a parody of a pig. Small, beady eyes gleamed with malice above a snout nose that oozed stringy pus.


    His flesh was mottled, pocketed with infected sores that wept a foul yellow liquid. Coarse black hairs sprouted from his jowls. A bloodstained apron stretched over his massive toros, colored a rancid shade of brown and red. Butcher¡¯s chest heaved beneath it, his breath labored and wheezing, filling the air with a stench of rot and decayed meat.


    In each of his massive hands, he gripped a cleaver. Their edges were worn, crusted with rust and blood.


    As he grinned, strings of drool mixed with blood dangled from his chin, splattering the ground. He eyed Mitch with a perverse delight.


    Butcher laughed, a hollow sound devoid of humor. ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting for some fresh entertainment. Hathgar was getting boring.¡±


    Mitch raised Galadrith as the rest of his squad assembled behind him.


    ¡°And I¡¯ve been waiting to kill you.¡± Mitch answered.


    ¡°Let¡¯s see how you scream then, little man.¡± Butcher answered in a twisted laugh.

 Chapter 31: Butchering

    Mitch didn¡¯t need to signal his command physically; his Abyssal minions had already recoiled. He had sensed the threat Butcher exuded and ordered Varak and the other Abyssal creatures to stay back.


    The pigman stood massive and sweating, his beady eyes shining with sadistic delight as his snout flared, taking in Mitch¡¯s scent.


    Butcher grinned as he scraped the cleavers against each other. The metal sparked and shrieked. With a snarl, Butcher hurled himself forward, swinging both cleavers in a ruthless arc.


    Mitch sidestepped the first cleaver, only to feel the second one bite into his arm. The blade¡¯s rotten energy tore through Rex and then his flesh. Poison flooded into his flesh from Butcher¡¯s attack.


    He gritted his teeth, the pain and healing he sent fueling him as he spun. With Galadrith raised, Mitch drove the blade deep into Butcher¡¯s side. The pigman bellowed, his hand reaching to slap Mitch back with surprising speed that belied his bulk.


    Mitch stumbled back, weakened. Immediately his senses caught the sickly-sweet scent of rot pouring from the wound that Rex had reformed to cover. Mitch sent healing towards it. Butcher had left his mark and Mitch had to burn a mountain of flesh to stop the rot from the attack.


    Settlement Amount: 353 Souls, 359 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 792(-38) Flesh.


    Rot empowered attacks?


    Sable tried to find an opening. Her wires snapped toward Butcher, but they veered off, erratic and weak.


    The aura Butcher emanated seeped into her mind and frayed her control. He could feel it within their bond.


    Her breaths were too shallow and panics, each step halting. She was struggling, and stumbling over her wires as she tried to rally herself.


    Mitch could feel the fear that toyed with his mind as he faced off against Butcher. Like a thumb pressing onto a bruise. Mitch sensed the marked dread tainting his concentration. It wasn¡¯t a natural fear. But something the Butcher could push onto him.


    Is that a Skill?


    Mitch took the fear Butcher was releasing and shoved it firmly into Devoid. He wasn¡¯t able to help Sable¡¯s fraying emotions, and kept fighting.


    How is anything supposed to fight back if he can spread raw fear? Against creatures he imprisons no less.


    In that moment, Mitch made it a personal commitment to not burn any more souls against this monster. He would not sacrifice any more to take down a man who scarred flesh and souls for a living. Even against Abyssal monstrosities that mostly wanted to kill Mitch. He would not use Deathhowl, nor Soul Sacrifice, nor any minions.


    This is personal.


    ¡°Sable, fall back! He¡¯s releasing an aura!¡± Mitch barked, narrowly avoiding another swipe as Butcher¡¯s cleaver swung towards his chest. Butcher¡¯s lips twisted into a grotesque smile, his cleavers glowing with putrid, fetid energy. With a flick, the pigman hurtled them through the air, nearly taking Mitch¡¯s arm off, before they were called back into the man''s hands.


    Mitch¡¯s shoulder took a slash, and Mitch felt the slight panic from his Shadowshroud as the beast¡¯s plate was split.


    Mitch¡¯s armour was gouged and the blades reached flesh. He had to do everything he could to pour reserves into healing his decaying body.


    Settlement Amount: 353 Souls, 359 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 702(-90) Flesh.


    Rex whined in protest, his shadowed form clinging protectively to Mitch¡¯s torso as cleaver after cleaver struck. Mitch carved Butcher¡¯s sweating flesh in thick grooves. The pigman¡¯s attacks were monstrously strong, carving rotting wounds into Mitch¡¯s hardened body and Rex¡¯s plate.


    As each of Butcher¡¯s cleaver strikes left a shallow, gnarled grooves in the hound¡¯s armor, Rex roared in pain. Mitch could heal himself, but not the hound. Rex was not a minion, but a loyal creature regardless.


    Mitch felt Rex¡¯s wounds like a surge of hot iron in his veins. ¡°Rex, pull back, I can¡¯t heal you like I can heal me.¡± He commanded, voice low, heart pounding in fury and frustration.


    But Rex remained, his form shifting against Mitch¡¯s torso. A cleaver sliced into the Shadowshroud¡¯s side, piercing Mitch¡¯s flesh in the process. Rex let out a pained growl that turned to a snarl. Mitch tapped into his reserves to heal the spreading damage of Butcher¡¯s malevolent cleavers.


    Settlement Amount: 353 Souls, 359 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 644(-58) Flesh.


    ¡°Damnit it, Rex! Fall back.¡± Mitch ordered. And this time, with a growl of protest, Rex leaped off his body, retreating to the sidelines. His hound form bled black ichor on the ground and watched the fight with the others.


    Butcher¡¯s grin widened as he saw Mitch¡¯s bare chest. ¡°Ahhhh, so many scars. How pretty. How many more can I add once I win?¡±


    Both cleavers raised high. Mitch met him with Galadrith, the soul sword shuddering in fury within his grip. Both of them locked into a brutal rhythm of blows. The air was thick with the smell of blood and rancid decay that Mitch had to fight to heal through. Each swing carved gashes in both men.


    Every strike Mitch landed chipped away at Butcher. Blood seeped constantly from the wounds he had inflicted. Butcher retaliated just as fiercely, his cleavers tearing into Mitch¡¯s body with each brutal swing.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    Each cut from Butcher left rot festering in his flesh, and Mitch¡¯s skin burned as the infection seeped in. A sickening purple spread from each wound. But he pressed on, calling on Agony¡¯s Embrace to turn every surge of pain into raw power. His veins pulsed with it.


    Mitch healed some wounds while allowing others to deepend, a dangerous dance of pain emboldening strength. If he could keep the rot back, he could kill Butcher.


    Butcher¡¯s laughter erupted through the prison as he flung a cleaver that buried into Mitch¡¯s exposed shoulder, spreading rot with a sickening crackle.


    Mitch clenched his teeth, feeling the rot spread to his head. With a roar, he ripped the cleaver from his flesh. Blood poured down his chest as he moved forward and healed the infected wound with a swath of his stored flesh.


    Settlement Amount: 353 Souls, 359 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 583(-61) Flesh.


    Galadrith hummed with anticipation, and Mitch took the opportunity, stabbing the blade deep into Butcher¡¯s leg.


    ¡°Hold him,¡± Mitch growled.


    Galadrith responded, a chain spiraling from the blade¡¯s hilt to shackle Butcher¡¯s ankle. Butcher staggered at the sight, and Mitch seized the advantage.


    He slashed at the pigman¡¯s exposed flesh, hacking away at his body. Precision be damned. Mitch wanted to carve the man up.


    Each blow weakened the Butcher further, the pigman clearly lacking a healing ability even with his monstrous strength to punch through Rex and Mitch¡¯s hardened body.


    But the monstrous pigman wasn¡¯t finished. In a last, desperate act, Butcher¡¯s beady eyes flared with hate.


    He gripped his remaining cleaver, rot energy swirling around its jagged edge, and hurled it straight at Mitch¡¯s throat.


    The blade struck true. It carved deep into Mitch¡¯s neck, below his jaw. Hot blood sprayed from Mitch¡¯s hammering heart. It painted the ground in thick arcs.


    Mitch staggered back, vision immediately dimming as the world began to fade from the blood loss.


    His grip faltered, Galadrith nearly slipping from his blood-slicked hand. His heart beat immediately beat more slowly, each pulse weaker than the last.


    But beneath the pain, a deep, seething rage ignited Mitch.


    Now I¡¯ll have a scar there.


    It was the same rage that had led him to his first murder of the Grimmer, and then drove him to carve his way through Abyssal monsters. It was the same anger that fueled every step forward he took against his Abyssal Debt.


    He would not die here¨Cnot by the hand of this lacking beast.


    Letting his blood coat his body, Mitch pulled flesh out of his core against his throat. His flesh sizzled against the rotting energy of Butcher¡¯s strike. Mitch continued to pour more flesh into the wound, sealing it up tight underneath a pink scar that carved across his throat.


    Settlement Amount: 353 Souls, 359 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 497(-86) Flesh.


    Blood filled his veins. Transformed from his own Affliction Skill, it was recycled from flesh that he had parted from souls he held.


    Forcing his head up, Mitch looked straight into Butcher¡¯s eyes. Mitch¡¯s own feral grin spread across his face. ¡°Is that all you¡¯ve got?¡± he asked, his voice defiant.


    Butcher took a step back, fear painted across his small, piggish eyes.


    Mitch wasn¡¯t just standing; he was surging forward.


    Every slice with Galadrith dismantled Butcher¡¯s form. Each strike tore through layers of flesh and fat, his cuts deepening until sinew and muscle hung in tatters. The cold rage fueled by Devoid carved the butcher of the prison. Mitch wasn¡¯t surprised when the skill leveled.


    Affliction Skill Upgraded


    Devoid


    Level 5(+1)


    Lock away undesired emotions and thoughts. Feel only what you wish.


    Your sacrifices are rewarded with power.


    All emotions and thoughts must be addressed eventually.


    +Instill primal fear within your enemies as they witness your power.


    Butcher, no longer able to wield his cleavers from cut tendons from Mitch¡¯s sword, dropped to his knees. A groan escaped his fat swollen throat.


    Mitch loomed over him, bloodied and healed but with a victorious gleam in his eyes. He stood there, chest rising and falling with the satisfaction of triumph.


    With Butcher no longer able to cast his fear based aura, Varak and Sable quickly moved in.


    Sable spun the cleavers in a mess of wires. The pigman¡¯s gaze turned to panic as he watched his weapons taken from him.


    ¡°Not yet¡­boss,¡± Varak said coldly while measuring Mitch¡¯s murderous stance. ¡°Has answers.¡±


    With a sharp whistle, Mitch called Rex over. The Shadowshroud limped to his side. Rex¡¯s form was wounded, and ichor spilled from the beast¡¯s black fur. Mitch placed a steady hand on Rex, guiding the hound¡¯s gaze towards the fallen man before them.


    Eat. But do not kill.


    Rex lunged forward, his powerful jaw clamping onto Butcher¡¯s flesh. He began to consume as Butcher screamed from pain. Feeding on the pigman restored some of Rex¡¯s health and closed the wounds.


    Mitch watched coldly, his eyes hard, as Rex tore into the fallen torturer of the prison.


    ¡°The dog gets the flesh. I get the soul.¡± Galadrith¡¯s fury was potent through their bond.


    ¡°He controls them with fear,¡± Mitch said to Sable and Varak. ¡°He wasn¡¯t that strong. Galadrith was much stronger. The only way he truly controlled the creatures in here was through the fear aura.¡±


    ¡°Yes!...Fear. Stink. Is same.¡± Varak confirmed as she poked Butcher in the eye with a clawed finger.


    The silence in the prison hung. The other prisoners had watched the battle with their tormentor. Butcher¡¯s gasps were growing weaker, but the man¡¯s vitality was something to behold.


    Mitch called the Abyssal bugs forward to swarm around Butcher¡¯s body. They gathered and surrounded him in a circle, their twitching pinchers and mouths a promise.


    Even in his critically wounded state, Butcher¡¯s eyes widened in fear at the tiny creatures that watched him.


    ¡°Time for a final twist to your own game, Butcher.¡± Mitch¡¯s voice was a deadly whisper as he called Rex back from his feast.


    Immediately after, he commanded a small amount of bugs to cover the man''s face, but not to bite. Not yet¨Cat least. If the Abyss was going to torment him endlessly, Mitch figured he could return the favor in part.


    ¡°Now, let¡¯s get some answers. Still with us, Butcher?¡± Mitch asked the groaning pigman that lay on the ground before them.

 Chapter 32: Directives

    ¡°Where is Hathgar?¡± Mitch asked steadily while he looked down on Butcher.


    The pigman¡¯s mouth twisted into a broken smile beneath the bugs. His laugh was a wet gurgling that echoed off the quiet prison walls. ¡°Little bugs don¡¯t scare me,¡± Butcher said as if it were a joke. Blood bubbled with spit as his laugh turned into a choking cough.


    Mitch¡¯s face darkened. He didn¡¯t have time for the man''s games. Hathgar was waiting.


    At Mitch¡¯s command, the bugs burrowed their pincers and small teeth into his face skin. Through the bond, Mitch felt the sensation of countless legs piercing flesh, and he could almost taste the man¡¯s agony. Behind him, Sable¡¯s intake of breath was sharp and edged with dismay.


    Butcher¡¯s laugh turned into a strangled scream as the bugs dug deep into the open wounds they created.


    ¡°Feel them,¡± Mitch said coldly.


    He could feel the bugs tearing at Butcher¡¯s flesh. Crawling into the open sores on his cheeks. The man howled, jerking in place, and his broken body did not allow him to brush them away as they burrowed deeper. Each scream turned more and more hoarse.


    ¡°Mitch¡­¡± Sable¡¯s voice was tight and uncertain. ¡°You don¡¯t have to do this.¡±


    Mitch shot her a glare that silenced her. ¡°He¡¯ll talk.¡± His words were clipped. He tightened his hold on the bugs, and sent a command through to them.


    They responded immediately, their pincers working deeper. Butcher howled and rolled his eyes wildly from the pain. The bugs tore flesh from the man''s temples, nostrils, and forced their way with sharp mandibles into his tiny ears.


    Mitch leaned in closer, letting Butcher feel the weight of his presence. ¡°Last chance, Butcher. Where is Hathgar?¡±


    Butcher¡¯s screams turned to gurgles, his body shuddering as the bugs carved in deeper. Finally, his bloodshot eyes met Mitch¡¯s, raw terror etched across his face. Mitch paused the tearing of the bugs with a command.


    ¡°You¡­you won¡¯t find the same man,¡± he managed to spit out.


    Mitch¡¯s jaw clenched. His anger had turned to cold, unrelenting fury. ¡°I didn¡¯t ask for riddles, Butcher. What did you do to him?¡±


    Butcher¡¯s eyes flicked with a hint of defiance, even as blood poured from the fresh wounds. Mitch commanded the bugs to bite deeper. He felt their unending hunger through the bond.


    Butcher screamed again, the sound high and desperate. Sable turned away, visibly uncomfortable. ¡°Mitch¡­enough,¡± she pleaded.


    Mitch didn¡¯t look at her. ¡°We¡¯re nowhere near done,¡± he said, low and menacing. He ordered the bugs to pierce near Butcher¡¯s eyes. His friend was somewhere nearby, and he would not be clouded. Every time he felt a pang of guilt at what he was doing to Butcher was quickly shoved inside his Devoid Skill.


    Butcher¡¯s screams began to die down into a series of strained gasps. His strength was draining as the bugs continued to gnaw away at his face. His skin had turned even more pitted and bruised from the bugs Mitch commanded.


    ¡°Where is he? Tell me!¡± Mitch roared.


    Butcher, barely coherent, let out a mirthless laugh. ¡°The farm! He¡¯s at the farm!¡± he rasped, each word followed by a rattling breath. Even through his torment, his words dripped with cruel satisfaction.


    Mitch narrowed his eyes, but paused the bugs to let the pigman speak. ¡°Farm? Where is it? What did you do to him?¡±


    Butcher¡¯s head lolled, his face barely recognizable under the layers of blood and bites. The pigman rolled his eyes upwards, and gestured towards the back of the prison. ¡°There, that way,¡± he choked out, a twisted grin breaking his face further. ¡°You won¡¯t recognize him though.¡±


    Mitch¡¯s patience snapped. With a silent command, the bugs shifted, and dug deeper. He felt the bugs¡¯ every movement through the bond as they ate towards Butcher¡¯s skill. This piggish man¨Cwho had inflicted unimaginable torment on countless creatures¨Cfelt the same agony tearing through him.


    Sable¡¯s voice broke through Butcher¡¯s screams. ¡°Mitch¡­enough!¡±


    ¡°Let him feel it,¡± Mitch responded, almost to himself. The bugs obeyed, clawing their way into Butcher¡¯s mind. Snapping into the delicate nerves with ferocity.


    Butcher¡¯s eyes rolled back. His face was a mask of pain, until his screams were silenced. His body jerked one last time, and then went still.


    The room fell silent as Butcher¡¯s body went limp. Only the scurrying of Mitch¡¯s bugs as they crawled away from the lifeless form.


    Mitch extended his Abyssal Vault and pulled at the lingering presence. Butcher¡¯s soul¨Cwarped, twisted, and red like raw, infected meat¨Cemerged from the remains. It flowed into his core, and thrashed wildly amongst the others he held.


    Even in death, Butcher roared and radiated pure malice.


    But Mitch had plans for the soul. Butcher would not sit within his core. He turned his attention to his soul sword, Galadrith.


    ¡°This one is yours,¡± he said lowly.


    Galadrith pulsed in his grip, a thrill of dark energy vibrating in Mitch¡¯s hand. Mitch tugged the thrashing red soul and guided it down toward the blade. The tendril of red pulled back momentarily with the steel. The sword trembled, and Mitch felt Galadrith¡¯s presence grow heavier.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    With a flash of red light, Butcher¡¯s soul was pulled into Galadrith. The sword drank in Butcher¡¯s twisted essence.


    ¡°Mine now, Butcher.¡± Galadrith said smugly as he consumed the soul in a snap.


    The blade¡¯s edges sharpened with a menacing shing, and a faint red mist began to seep out of it. Galadrith spread an oppressive aura that filled the space. The air thickened with a new intensity. Fear spread, so strong that the watching minions lingering took a step back, instincts kicking in.


    ¡°Delicious. Thank you, Mitchell.¡± Galadrith said warmly.


    Mitch looked at the transformed weapon. He noted the gleam on the jagged edge. So sharp he was sure the sword could cut through shadows. The aura surrounding Galadrith thrummed with malice. It was a fitting reflection of Butcher¡¯s dark spirit now imbued in Galadrith¡¯s steel.


    The rush of the Affliction Skill upgrading hit Mitch a moment later. New power settled into Mitch¡¯s own soul.


    Affliction Skill Upgraded


    Abyssal Vault


    Level 4(+1)


    Collect, Siphon, and store Souls, Flesh, and Credits within. A living account for your Abyssal Debt.Meet a Collector to transfer the sum+ Command Souls for Use.


    Settlement Amount: 353 Souls, 359 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 497 Flesh.


    Use¡­hmm. How many uses are there?


    The sword hummed in his hand. Deadly and still growing. It was a vile weapon, Mitch knew that. Alive and cold. It held a fearsome energy that would make all opponents think twice before he dealt with them. Mitch felt nothing but excitement at the prospect of testing Galadrith''s new strength in battle.


    Mitch¡¯s gaze shifted to Sable. She watched him with a wary look. He didn¡¯t need her approval. He knew the path he was on.


    Always forward, right?


    He turned to Rex, the hound¡¯s shadowed form bearing remnants of Butcher¡¯s damage. Wounds still gaped along his ribs and legs.


    Mitch extended a hand towards Butcher¡¯s body. ¡°Rex, heal yourself. Eat what remains,¡± he commanded.


    Rex leapt forward without hesitation. He lowered his snout to Butcher¡¯s chest, single eye wide open as he latched onto the flesh. With each crunch, Mitch felt Rex¡¯s health return quickly.


    The sight brought grim satisfaction to Mitch. His own dog was growing stronger alongside him. Rex¡¯s form grew denser, the wounds along Rex¡¯s side healing closed as he feasted noisily.


    Turning away from Rex, Mitch faced Varak and the other minions gathered along the edges of the room. A plan had been forming in his mind.


    ¡°Varak,¡± Mitch began, and the creature perked up excitedly, her children holding themselves tightly against her body. ¡°Take the others and go through every cell in this prison. Sort through them. Any of them show loyalty, let them free. Bring them to me.¡±


    Varak¡¯s many eyes widened at the command. But she nodded eagerly. She looked back at Mitch. ¡°How open cell?¡±


    ¡°Use these.¡± Mitch sent the command and the Abyssal Bugs scurried forward around her.


    ¡°And¡­if refuse?¡± she asked, head tilting.


    Mitch¡¯s gaze was unwavering. ¡°Then we¡¯ll deal with them after.¡±


    Sable shifted beside him, but she said nothing.


    ¡°Yes! Follow me, pretties.¡± Varak answered and began to walk away, but the bugs didn¡¯t follow. She looked back at the waiting bugs. ¡°Come!¡±


    The bugs waited for their orders from Mitch.


    He considered the situation. Pressing against his Abyssal Bind, he felt the bond with the Abyssal Bugs stir as he focused his intent.


    Pushing, he directed them to heed Varak¡¯s every order.


    Immediately, he felt the bond intensify. A surge of power shot through his body as Abyssal Bind expanded. Accommodating a new depth of control.


    The Skill¡¯s nature had shifted.


    Abyssal Bind


    Level 5(+1)


    Exert command over Abyssal beings and draw others into a permanent bond.


    Followers: Create lasting connections with chosen beings. Extend your influence and power over them.


    + Guardians of Will: Grant trusted minions the authority to command.


    Requirements: True allegiance must be granted willingly.


    Minions: Abyssal Mice: 4, Abyssal Fodder: 4(-1), Abyssal Bugs: 423


    Followers: Sable (The First Follower)


    + Guardians of Will: Varak (+1)


    Varak froze as power filled her. She blinked all her eyes in unison. The connection solidified between herself and the bugs. Mitch knew he could still command the bugs if he wanted to. But so could Varak.


    The creatures scurried closer to her, obediently responding to her presence. A twisted approximation of a smile broke across her face.


    ¡°Yes! Pretties listen now!¡± She let out a crooked laugh. Reaching down, she pet the bugs as they crawled up her arms. Their legs and pinchers clicking across her stony skin.


    Tenderly, she placed one on her shoulder, where it perched and twitched. Attuned to her every whim.


    ¡°Guardian of Wills, Varak. You¡¯ve shown trust in me, so I will show trust in you,¡± Mitch said, feeling the title settle over Varak like a cloak.


    The monster straightened, something like pride shifting in her many eyes as she nodded and scampered toward the cells. Bugs and minions trailed her like an obedient swarm.


    As Varak and her company disappeared into the shadows, Sable turned to Mitch. Her expression was still shadowed with the unsettling events she had witnessed. ¡°What now?¡±


    ¡°I had to do that, you know. For Hathgar,¡± He said honestly.


    ¡°I know, Mitch. It¡¯s still fucked up. Not as much as what they do, but that doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s easy to watch,¡± she responded, nodding at him in understanding.


    He considered her look, trying to come to terms with his own decision from her reaction. She seemed to accept his choices, which is the best he could hope for right now.


    With a low whistle from Mitch, Rex leapt to his side. The hound had finished feasting, and Butcher¡¯s body was now a small puddle of gristle and blood.


    Rex shifted back into the dense armor that covered Mitch¡¯s torso. The plate was thicker, and seemed to clink into place. Encasing him in a shadow-forged armor that felt even stronger than before. Mitch felt Rex¡¯s strength hum against his own. The hound¡¯s loyalty anchored him back to his situation.


    Mitch turned and began walking towards the far end of the prison. His footsteps echoed with the weight of his determination.


    ¡°Now we get Hathgar.¡±

 Chapter 33: Purple Shmurple

    A suffocating heat built in the air as Mitch and Sable moved toward the prison¡¯s back wall. The thick stench clung to their skin, every breath heavy with sweat, blood, and rot. The air felt alive. Waiting to close in and swallow them whole.


    Shadows flickered in the dim light, shifting as if they were carrying lives of their own. Abyssal creatures shifted or paced in their cells.


    Low, rumbling growls filled the silence. Scales scraped against stone; claws raked like metal on bone. Each prisoner sensed the simmering anger in Mitch and trembled back from the bars, hiding from his gaze.


    Mitch ignored the sounds. He was focused on moving forward, grip squeezing Galadrith tightly. Each step was heavy, his mind singularly focused on reaching Hathgar and killing the Warden.


    Hate this fucking place.


    Beside him, Sable¡¯s breathing was ragged. She glanced into each cell, her face tense as she caught glimpses of the twisted creatures that were held within. Their eyes¨Cempty and ruthless, or filled with barely contained hate¨Cfollowed their movements. She shivered despite the growing heat, and Mitch noticed her stiffen at the sights of the monsters.


    The shadows stretched as if reaching for them as Mitch noticed a single, dim light illuminating something down a claustrophobic corridor.


    There, pinned line an insect against a metal board, was a tiny Abyssal creature. It was barely recognizable as anything but a bleeding mass of flesh. Butcher¡¯s handiwork.


    It was still alive. The exposed beating heart gave that away. Its animal eyes flicked in their direction. Jagged cuts lined its body, and symbols were burned into its flesh. The creature was too weak to make a sound.


    Mitch¡¯s eyes narrowed, his lips pressing into a thin line. He approached the pitiful monster pinned to the wall. This was Butcher¡¯s work¨Can experiment, half-dead, left to suffer.


    ¡°It¡¯s..alive,¡± Sable¡¯s voice was barely above a whisper.


    Mitch didn¡¯t answer. He raised Galadrith and delivered a swift, merciful strike. The creature stilled instantly, its suffering ended. The tension in the air between Sable and Mitch lessened.


    He pulled the creature¡¯s soul and flesh into his core. The soul that filled his core that tiny bit more felt thin and faded. Nearly broken and gone forever. The energy still flowed through him, adding yet another subtle addition to his strength.


    ¡°Not anymore. Poor thing. Even if it likely would have wanted to kill us,¡± he said, giving her a small, pained smile. ¡°Just a little longer Sable. We¡¯ll get out of this,¡±


    With that, he returned to the corridor, and continued towards the back wall.


    The faint awareness of Varak pricked the back of Mitch¡¯s mind. Through the bond, he sensed her excitement at the task he had given her, and could almost hear the sounds of her scuttling through the prison. Her many eyes assessing each prisoner.


    She sorted through them as he¡¯d commanded, her questions sharp and probing. Her satisfaction with each answer she deemed loyal. He felt her release a prisoner, and through the connection, he shared in her pride. The thrill of executing his will.


    It was a potent rush. His command was reaching beyond his immediate surroundings, rippling outwards with Varak¡¯s movements.


    This is not something to take lightly. I think I can trust her¡­


    It wasn¡¯t just control over them¨Cthere was something deeper. He could control them fully, but he didn¡¯t. It was an unspoken understanding that each of his minions would operate in good faith. They wanted to help him. Those with intelligence, at least.


    Varak¡¯s loyalty and eagerness, throbbing through the Abyssal Bind, reinforced the sense of dominion he was cultivating within and around him. He built in the shadows, just like his Skills pushed him too. Mitch wanted to ensure the goal he walked steadily towards was at least partly just.


    Kill whoever the fuck put this debt on this body. Start with the Warden. That¡¯s enough to start with.


    ¡°Where are the guards? Surely this wasn¡¯t all done by Butcher¡­¡± Sable asked as they continued.


    Mitch stopped. Sable¡¯s words had struck a chord. The emptiness and silence, besides the prisoners, had been unsettling enough.


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± he answered suspiciously. ¡°This place should be crawling with guards. The Warden wouldn¡¯t just leave it to Butcher.¡±


    ¡°Unless they¡¯re waiting,¡± Sable added grimly. The idea that the Warden might be toying with them more¨Cletting them carve through only Butcher¨Cwas enough to set his teeth on edge.


    The thought sharpened his focus, and he continued to press forward.


    As Mitch and Sable moved deeper towards the back, the silence fractured. Low, guttural moans and the sounds of heavy chains scraping filled the air. The path narrowed, and Mitch¡¯s gaze fell on the rows of hulking figures that filled their individual cells. It was the side where the largest monsters were held.


    Some were masses of muscle and rage, their limbs bound so tightly in chains that they seemed bloated. Others had bodies fused with metal and stone, grotesque hybrids of organic and inorganic matter. Drool oozed from the mouths of the more mindless ones. Spiteful eyes glared from behind thick iron bars, filled with a mixture of rage and resentment.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    ¡°These creatures¡­¡± Galadrith¡¯s stony voice echoed in Mitch¡¯s mind, dripping with disdain. ¡°Are mere ants beneath my heel. I am, and was stronger than all of them. My power eclipses theirs like a sun over a guttering candle.¡±


    ¡°Uh-huh. Yes, Gal. You are very strong,¡± Mitch replied with a smirk at Galadrith¡¯s droning.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± Galadrith said, clearly taking the praise to heart, ¡°This, I know. In this prison, I was the strongest. They held contests here once. The blood was ankle-deep.¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t really have¡­blood. More ichor than blood.¡± Mitch raised an eyebrow.


    Galadrith rallied. ¡°Ah. It was their blood. Yes. Ankle-deep. You should be honored to carry me. In fact, when this is over, I¡¯d be happy to add you to my memoirs and treatises.¡±


    ¡°Yep, can¡¯t wait,¡± Mitch humored.


    They reached a door at the end of the corridor. Old and rusted, but alive with purple energy that crackled across its surface. Darkness seeped through, a malevolence that tainted the air.


    The energy that covered the door was the same as the Abyssal Wall in the Pit.


    The chain around Mitch¡¯s neck, with Mathilda¡¯s key, tugged toward the door as if magnetized. It aligned. Pulled him closer, a silent summons urging him toward the dark energy beyond.


    Mitch felt it. Behind the door, just out of reach, souls waited. He felt them, through whatever strange connection he had with soul magic. They were behind the door. And they were crying.


    It was pulsing, throbbing. They felt bound together in a twisted knot. Mitch considered his options.


    Need to get through this fucking door. Not many options there.


    The Abyssal Wall in the Pit had been impossible to break down. They had tried.


    Sable shivered beside him. ¡°There are¡­there¡¯s souls behind this, Mitch. I can feel them too,¡± she said.


    For a moment, Mitch thought it weird that Sable could feel the souls as well. He nodded, gripping Galadrith.


    Hathgar is somewhere in there. And the door for this key.


    This protected entrance was his way in. And he would tear through it, no matter what.


    He swung at it with his soul sword. The blade struck with a loud clang, but didn¡¯t even scratch the surface of crackling purple. Frustration burned through him as he swung again. And again.


    Each time met the same impenetrable resistance.


    ¡°Sable, try your Fractures,¡± he told her.


    Firing exploding Fractures and slices from her hands onto the door proved to not work as well. Each collided with the purple barrier, but the door remained untouched.


    Mitch¡¯s jaw tightened so hard he felt his teeth begin to give.


    He activated Soul Sacrifice. The now familiar rush of power flooded him as he burned through another soul. He hadn¡¯t used any souls in his fight with Butcher, but the Warden was different.


    Settlement Amount: 353(-1) Souls, 359 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 498 Flesh.


    A growl tore from his throat, Galadrith¡¯s edge glowing a grotesque red as he struck with every ounce of his fury. The door held.


    Crack, damn you!


    He burned another soul, and swung. Nothing. He burned another, and swung harder. Each consumed soul fired in his belly, but no new strength was gained. It was only enough to keep him swinging unsuccessfully.


    Finally, as he burned another soul, a new energy surged within him. Through the fog of fury, a notification appeared.


    Affliction Skill Gained


    Soul Sacrifice


    Level 2(+1)Consume a soul in a torrent of power for you and your Followers.


    + Consume souls in succession to stack power.


    The energy multiplied as he quickly burned more souls in his ferocious swinging.


    Settlement Amount: 346(-7) Souls, 359 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 498 Flesh.


    It was a wave of strength and rage. It built and built, layering over itself. Until his strength and the blade vibrated visibly. He didn¡¯t care about the souls he burned. Their memories were extinguished with each Soul Sacrifice.


    They tried to kill me anyway.


    It wasn¡¯t just strength; it was a fury that bordered on uncontrollable, an energy that screamed to be unleashed. His muscles ached under the weight of it.


    With each swing, and each soul, the energy compounded, turning into something twisted and primal. Shadows flickered along the edges of his vision as the blood pumped too hard in his head. The barrier would fall, or he would tear himself apart trying.


    With a final roar, Mitch swung again, pouring his rage into Galadrith. The blade blazed red, colliding with the Abyssal Wall. Another Soul Sacrifice. Another surge of power.


    Settlement Amount: 345(-1) Souls, 359 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 498 Flesh.


    As the blade sliced through the air one last time, the crackling purple barrier gave a strained shudder before finally, with a resounding crack, it fractured.


    A violent shockwave ripped outward, sending a wave of energy that flooded the prison. Sable stumbled back, but caught herself. The shattered remains of the protection dissolved into a thick mist, and seeped into the stone walls like a stain.


    Mitch took the exploding energy head on, and felt it damage him. He quickly consumed flesh and sent a tendril towards Sable to ensure she was in her best state.


    Silence settled. Thick and unnatural. The prison seemed to inhale, waiting.


    Then, a slow, steady drip pierced the quiet. An ominous ticking from beyond the door. It counting down like the beat of a hidden, malignant heart


    Mitch¡¯s triumph over the barrier was palpable, and he could feel the twisted Abyssal power pressing against him from energy that seeped through.


    Sable¡¯s face tightened as a metallic scent clawed its way towards them. ¡°There is something bad behind there. What¡¯s behind this door?¡±


    ¡°Answers,¡± Mitch replied. ¡°And Hathgar.¡± The energy was still coursing through his veins, urging him to charge forward. The souls he held, Rex, Galadrith, they all hummed at the fringes of his mind, wanting battle.


    They stood at the threshold, and Mitch reached out to push the door open. The hinges creaked with a sound like broken bones grinding together. The darkness beyond yawned and beckoned them inside.


    With a final look at Sable to ensure she was ready, Mitch crossed the threshold and walked into the Farm.

 Chapter 34: Drip, Drip

    Candles flickered in rusted holders along the hallway just beyond the door. Thick, damp air pressed into Mitch¡¯s nostrils, laced with the stench of rot. Sheet metal, poorly installed, lined the rocky walls. Moisture seeped down and collected into puddles on the floor.


    A single, persistent sound echoed through the hall. The slow drip of some viscous liquid. Steady as a heartbeat. It drew Mitch forward.


    There was something twisted in the sound. Power lurked within each drip, feeding the dense, corrupted energy that seeped into every corner of this place.


    Hathgar is somewhere in this nightmare.


    Sable glared down the silent hallway. ¡°This place,¡± her voice wavered, filled with disgust. ¡°They tried to make it clean, but I can smell the souls over the rot.¡±


    As they moved deeper down the rusty, wet hall, no creatures approached them. Only the ever-present dripping filled the silence. Its steady beat was unsettling in the stillness.


    They rounded a corner, the sparse candlelight offering only glimpses of the path ahead.


    Without warning, a figure dropped from the shadowed ceiling. Its limbs far too long, body stretched as if pulled taught, and then pulled some more. It unfurled to its full length, slick with the moisture that clung to the walls. It unfurled to its full height. Its spindly arm whipped forward, slicing down with a narrow, rusted blade


    Rex, already wrapped around Mitch as thick shadowy plate, took the hit head-on. The blade drove into Rex¡¯s side, but the Shadowshroud armor held, absorbing the blow without leaving a mark. Mitch felt the impact, and heard Rex¡¯s hunting howl in his mind.


    ¡°Hold it down!¡± Mitch yelled, his voice sharp.


    Sable was already moving. Her hands flashed as she shot out wires, metal firing around the creature¡¯s limbs tightly. It staggered, caught off guard. The creature hissed as it faceplanted onto the wet floor.


    Piss and blood. Wonderful.


    Mitch stepped forward and raised Galadrith. A red aura seeped from the blade, an intimidating hue gained from Butcher¡¯s soul, simmering with deadly intent. For good measure to scare his enemies, Mitch unleashed a roaring Deathhowl into the creature''s body. The sound erupted and bounced off the walls, hurting his own ears. Green light exploded the creature¡¯s side as he brought down Galadrith in an unmeasured hack. The creature¡¯s head was sliced through in a single pass. It thunked on the ground in a ichorous heap.


    Settlement Amount: 345 Souls, 359 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 499(+1) Flesh.


    He extended his Abyssal Vault, siphoning flesh and soul. It was twisted as it thrashed in his core alongside the others. Mitch sensed the rage of the creature as it smacked the walls of his core. The consumption left an empty husk on the floor.


    The dripping guided the path as Mitch and Sable continued.


    It wasn¡¯t long before they rounded another corner and saw movements in the shadows above.


    More creatures, spindly and fast, dropped down from the ceiling. Faces were stretched into leering expressions with broken teeth. They landed in a shrill cry.


    Rex took the brunt of their attacks. The plate absorbed each strike, keeping Mitch¡¯s strengthened body shielded from harm.


    ¡°Tear them apart!¡± Mitch shouted, his voice charged with dark energy.


    Sable reacted, her hands flashing with energy as she fired Fracture¡¯s at the creature¡¯s legs. Beams of sharp energy lanced out, severing limbs and shattering bones.


    Mitch swung through one monster¡¯s body, severing it in two. Galadrith bled a haze that radiated malice. He swung, and felt the satisfying weight of power behind every strike. The blade sliced through unnatural flesh and bone like paper. The monsters collapsed before him. Each strike accompanied by a dull thunk and the splatter of ichor on the floor and walls.


    Together, he and Sable cut a brutal path through the horde of elongated monsters. Mitch fell into a rhythm. Abyssal Sacrifice to keep him moving, Deathhowls to blow them apart in splattering green explosions. Ruthless swings as Rex took stabs head on, howling and frothing in his mind.


    ¡°So many. All lacking honor to face us alone,¡± Galadrith mused dryly as Mitch hacked another monster apart.


    Mitch didn¡¯t respond, too absorbed in the fight. He unleashed a furious Deathhowl, the scream erupting like a shockwave and tearing his throat. The closest monster exploded into fragments. Mitch tore through the rest, his hand sinking through a creature¡¯s skull, ripping out its soft brain.


    Each soul he pulled filled him that much more. His movements were brutal, automatic, and each kill only blazed the fury hotter. The rush of Soul Sacrifice kept his energy levels sharp and lethal.


    Settlement Amount: 398(+56) Souls, 343(-16) Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 555(+56) Flesh.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Sable kept pace, feeding off the Soul Sacrifice¡¯s that Mitch activated. She moved with precision, splitting legs and spines. There was no unease in her gaze. She hated the Abyss just as much, if not more than him.


    Mitch¡¯s strength was inexhaustible. Bolstered by Agony¡¯s Embrace and souls that he burned through with ruthless abandon. Another Deathhowl ripped apart several more creatures, leaving only remains of their spidery forms on the group.


    Rex had held firm the entire time. The drip still beckoned him forward.


    The horde was finally dead. Their souls and flesh zipped into his core.


    Settlement Amount: 419(+21) Souls, 339(-4) Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 576(+21) Flesh.


    The hallway finally opened into a larger room, dimly lit, with the drip echoing louder. The source of its rhythm lay just ahead. As Mitch and Sable stepped forward, the energy that led them intensified.


    But it wasn¡¯t the drip alone that awaited their arrival.


    Hundreds of pods lined the walls. Each encased a twisted figure in flickering, purple shells. Elves, dwarves, orcs, humans, gnomes¡ªall locked within their translucent prisons. Their faces contorted in soundless screams. Mouths stretched wide, eyes bulging in agony as cuts layered upon cuts marked their bodies.


    Their skin was flayed, raw, and marked with hundreds of razor-thin wounds. Limbs withered, eyes glazed with a torment that seemed endless. Each figure shook, though they were clearly bound in place by some magic. Trapped in a nightmare with no escape.


    As Mitch examined one pained person, barely a man, he saw a fresh wound split on his shoulder. The man screamed silently with newfound vigor. His blood dripped down his body and pooled at the bottom of the pod.


    Beside every pod, a single glass jar hovered, capturing the faint, ghostly outline of a soul. Souls bound by fading tendrils to their suffering bodies, weakened connections shivering as the souls fought to survive. Along each of those spectral threads seeped a viscous, black sludge.


    Grimlace.


    Mitch¡¯s stomach churned. He could see it. Feel it in the air. Smell the sweet aroma under the blood and damp. The blackened drops of Grimlace wept from the tortured bodies and souls. Sitting there, waiting to be collected. Like tears of the souls.


    And scattered across the floor lay the tool for collection. Knives, sharp and stained, covered in the slick sludge, lay waiting to scrape the drug from the soul tendril. Every cut, every incision on those helpless figures fed the Grimlace drip from the souls.


    Thank you, Rex. Would not want to get stabbed with a grimlace covered knife.


    He scanned the rows, his gaze locking onto tortured faces.


    How am I going to destroy all of this?


    Beside him, Sable had gone silent. She paused before one of the pods, staring at the man trapped within. His body convulsed, torn apart by fresh, razor-thin cuts, blood trickling down to the dark pool beneath him.


    ¡°What¡­what is this?¡± Sable¡¯s voice broke.


    The rows stretched endlessly, a prison of tormented bodies and poisoned souls being farmed.


    ¡°This is where it comes from, Sable,¡± Mitch answered, his voice low with disgust. ¡°This is how that shit is made.¡±


    The steady drip continued. The silence thickened, pressing against their ears, until a familiar oily voice sliced through the stillness.


    ¡°Hello, again, doggy,¡± The voice drifted through the chamber, heavy with mockery. ¡°How thoughtful of you to bring me more souls. And a delightful little Patchling. How fun.¡±


    Mitch¡¯s head snapped to the side, scanning the darkness for the source of the Warden¡¯s voice.


    ¡°Where are you, you coward?¡± Mitch growled, pointing Galadrith at nothing.


    A cold, emotionless chuckle echoed back, winding through the pods. ¡°Oh, so eager to bring me such treats. There¡¯s no rush. So much here to¡­ savor.¡±


    Sable stepped closer to a row, her expression horrified. There wasn¡¯t a single Patchling in sight among the imprisoned. With the lack of a soul, it would be useless in the Farm. But it did nothing to settle her anger.


    The voice slithered closer, almost playful. ¡°Oh, you noticed.¡± There was a slight pause, a cruel delight coating his next words. ¡°Patchlings? Their lacking souls? They have other uses, my dear. Just not here. You won¡¯t find yours, your soul, I assure you. It¡¯s somewhere very special.¡±


    Sable¡¯s face drained in color. Mitch caught the look in her eyes. Horror and fury. Whatever fate awaited Patchling bodies, and their lost souls, it was something beyond even the torment of this twisted Farm.


    I¡¯m going to end this. All of it.


    The Warden¡¯s voice resumed, smooth and taunting. ¡°But enough idle chatter¡­ Why don¡¯t you stay right there, doggy? Let¡¯s see if you can keep your little souls safe for me.¡±


    A hum pulsed through the chamber. Before Mitch could react, a glimmering purple barrier surged up from the floor, snapping around him in a flash of light. He was trapped, encased in a pod identical to those holding the other people.


    His arms felt pinned, immobilized. And before he could summon his strength, sharp, slicing pain ignited beneath Rex¡¯s armor. Dozens of invisible blades dug into his flesh, cutting deeper with each second. Each slice burned with agony, twisting his mind in torment. For just a moment, he panicked, unable to think properly.


    ¡°Mitch!¡± Sable shouted, darting toward him.


    The Warden¡¯s voice oozed with twisted delight. ¡°Does that sting, doggy? Consider it¡­ motivation. Oh, and your dwarf friend. He¡¯s quite lively today. Perhaps I¡¯ll turn his dial up a notch for you. Can you hear him?¡±


    From somewhere in the Farm, Hathgar¡¯s screams cut through the air. Mitch recognized that gruff voice. It twisted in raw, helpless pain. The Warden¡¯s laughter grew, a poisonous melody that clawed at Mitch¡¯s trapped form.


    Through the pain, a familiar warmth coiled within him. Agony¡¯s Embrace flared to life, cycling the torment into raw power.


    You idiot, Warden.


    Every agonizing cut only fueled him more. Mitch let the cuts ravage his body, as his strength sharpened with his will to endure the torment.


    His sliced lips twisted into a grin, teeth bared as he glared into the darkness.


    Oh, I¡¯m coming for you. This pod would be incredibly useful though.


    Mitch activated Soul Sacrifice, feeling the power surge against his growing strength from Agony¡¯s Embrace.


    The game had just begun. And Mitch had already cheated.

 Chapter 35: I Want To Break Free

    Hathgar¡¯s screams were a sharp knife, each cry carving deeper into Mitch¡¯s mind.


    They were worse than the cuts that lacerated his body. Invisible blades worked him, slicing through flesh and muscle with cruelty. However, each cycle of pain and healing pushed Mitch further in his compounding strength.


    I¡¯m close. Mitch could feel it. A threshold was within reach. Agony¡¯s Embrace flowed, something potent building within the Affliction Skill. Every spike of pain fed the strength of his body, sharpening it as it was torn apart.


    The pod¡¯s iron pressure held him firm as he pulled more souls for consumption. Soul Sacrifice stacked, adding more power to his blazing body.


    This pod... it would be so useful in my hands.


    Through the haze of torment, Hathgar¡¯s voice cut through again.


    Outside the pod, Sable¡¯s movements were frantic. ¡°Mitch!¡± she yelled, her voice cracking at witnessing his imprisonment. Another Fracture hurled at the glowing purple pod. Sparks erupted on impact, but the barrier didn¡¯t give. She snarled, shooting out her wire and wrapping it tightly around the base. Her muscles flexed as she yanked with all her strength, trying to wrench even the smallest gap.


    Her efforts were futile, but Mitch felt the raw loyalty in every strike and pull.


    ¡°Poetic, isn¡¯t it? A creature, stitched together from scraps trying to save another lost cause. Tell me, Patchling, which parts of you will I keep when I¡¯m done?¡± the Warden¡¯s voice oozed out from somewhere.


    A sudden, blinding flash came from the far side of the room. Mitch¡¯s instincts screamed a warning. Too late. A searing ball of purple fire shot out from behind one of the pods. Its speed seemed impossible to track.


    It struck Sable square in the side, the explosion throwing her across the room.


    Her scream was a short, sharp cry of pain as her arm ripped away in a violent burst. Scattering threads and shredded flesh across the floor.


    She hit the ground hard, sliding to a stop as smoke rose from the bleeding stump where her arm had been.


    ¡°No!¡± Mitch''s voice broke, rage boiling over. He tried to push healing through their Abyssal Bind toward her, to send some kind of healing, but the pod blocked him. His power bounced back.


    ¡°You can¡¯t even help her,¡± the Warden sneered, stepping out from behind a row of pods. His form was cloaked in Shadows, but Mitch could just make out the glint of his red ring. ¡°But don¡¯t worry¨CI¡¯ll make her suffer in a way that ''s entertaining for you.¡±


    Galadrith¡¯s voice hissed in Mitch¡¯s mind. ¡°Enough, wielder. Save your strength for what matters. For her. Break free and end this.¡±


    I need to save them.


    Mitch poured countless souls into Soul Sacrifice, each one devoured in a blaze of raw power. The torrent raged within him, building into a relentless inferno. His body vibrated, a vessel barely containing the energy that seared through him.


    Settlement Amount: 394(-25) Souls, 339 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 576 Flesh.


    The fury of Hathgar¡¯s screams and Sable¡¯s pain surged alongside the power, driving Mitch¡¯s rage to its breaking point.


    ¡°Enough!¡± he roared, swinging with everything he had.


    His fist slammed into the Abyssal pod. The impact detonated in a violent burst. The barrier shattered with a crack, shards of purple light spraying outward in a mist that dissolved into the air. The chamber rocked under the force of the explosion, silencing the Warden¡¯s mocking laughter for just an instant.


    Pain lanced through Mitch¡¯s arm as the blow pulverized his hand. Bone crunched, skin split, and tendons snapped under the sheer force of his strike. Blood poured freely from the mangled limb, dripping onto the cold, damp floor of the Farm.. Mitch barely noticed, concerned for Sable.


    Rex howled in his mind, and the Shadowshroud coiled around him tightly. The hound¡¯s bloodlust seared into Mitch¡¯s thoughts, raw and primal. The creature¡¯s hunger for vengeance blended seamlessly with Mitch¡¯s own fury.


    ¡°No, no, no,¡± Mitch growled.


    Free of the pod, Mitch wasted no time. He rushed over to Sable and pressed healing towards her using his Abyssal Bind connection. Souls were required, as it was a loss of a limb.


    The zip of the tendril reached her instantly. The Pod no longer prevented him from using his healing with Abyssal Bind.


    The ragged edges of flesh and thread had been charred away from the Warden¡¯s attack. Smoke curled from her bleeding stump.


    The connection tore through his reserves like wildfire, burning through countless souls. Mitch felt each soul consumed, a cost he didn¡¯t hesitate to pay.


    Settlement Amount: 262(-132) Souls, 339 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 576 Flesh.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Her wound began to glow faintly, a warm red light as the healing took hold. Flesh knit together rapidly, layers of tissue rebuilding as Mitch pushed all his strength into the bond.


    Then he noticed it¡ªsomething was different.


    As the energy worked its way through her body, the threads that had once held her Patchling form together vanished. The stump of her arm reshaped itself, flawless and seamless. No stitches. No scars. Just whole, unbroken flesh. Human.


    The sight wasn¡¯t just surprising. It was transformative.


    I can¡­ rebuild Patchlings?


    ¡°What the hell?¡± Mitch muttered, staring at her new arm in disbelief.


    Sable stirred. Her gaze met his, filled with gratitude and confusion. ¡°Mitch¡­heal yourself damnit.¡± she said.


    Blood from the cuts of the Pod still dripped onto the floor, and his hand remained shattered. Pulling, Mitch healed himself using flesh.


    Settlement Amount: 262 Souls, 339 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 556(-21) Flesh.


    He reached through his bond with Abyssal Bind. The mental tether stretched outward, sharp and commanding. Mitch wanted to break the entire farm. But he would need help.


    Come to me. Now.


    From the prison, Varak¡¯s mind stirred. The response came immediately¨Ca surge of feral loyalty.


    Her twisted voice came back immediately.


    We come.


    Mitch felt the skittering of limbs, the rush of movement as Varak and the other minions converged on his location.


    Mitch¡¯s grip tightened around Sable¡¯s newly healed hand. He hoisted her up. Her eyes met his, wide with disbelief at her own transformation. She flexed her fingers, staring at the seamless, unmarred flesh where stitches had once held together.


    ¡°No more threads, spooky, right?¡± Mitch said, then continued. ¡°We¡¯re not done. Stand tall.¡±


    She nodded, squaring her shoulders. ¡°Let¡¯s kill this bastard,¡±


    ¡°You think breaking out of your little playpen changes anything, doggy?¡± Warden sneered from behind them.


    Mitch growled, and turned to face the Warden. The shadows in the corridor shifted as the figure stepped forward, his form barely discernible within the darkness. The faint glint of his red ring cut through the gloom.


    The pull began almost immediately.


    A searing, invisible force clawed at Mitch¡¯s core. Tearing through him. The souls within his screamed, their cries blending in his mind with the raw agony of Hathgar¡¯s wails.


    Mitch staggered as the Collection started. It made his knees buckle as the memories of their lives began to invade his mind.


    ¡°Answer him with strength!¡± Galadrith roared.


    Mitch gritted his teeth, planting his feet on the blood-slicked floor.


    He activated Deathhowl, unleashing a thunderous scream that tore through the chamber. The ball of a soul crackling with green ripped towards the Warden¡¯s shadowed form. Instantly, the tug on his core from the Collection stopped as the Deathhowl flew towards the man.


    A wall of purple erected in front of the man a split second before the Deathhowl collided with it.


    The Deathhowl slammed into the purple wall, shaking the chamber. Green energy exploded outwards, sending viscous energy skittering in all directions.


    The Warden stood behind the barrier, his form barely illuminated.


    ¡°Did you really think that would work?¡± His voice was slick with disdain. ¡°You¡¯re a dog barking at a storm.¡±


    Mitch snarled. The Warden was fast¨Ctoo fast¨Cand the buried had appeared as if summoned by thought. But the brief stop in the Collection gave Mitch precious seconds to think. He readied Galadrith, the sword¡¯s crimson aura pulsing with anticipation. Rex mimicked the swords viscous energy.


    The Warden didn¡¯t wait for a reply. He raised his ringed hand and another orb of Abyssal fire coalesced. The fireball streaked toward Mitch, faster than the last.


    Rex roared in his mind and tightened across Mitch. The fireball struck dead-on, detonating with a blast of heat on Mitch¡¯s chest that sent him skidding back several feet. The floor groaned from the impact.


    Rex growled, but remained unmarred. Just singed.


    ¡°I know, boy,¡± Mitch muttered, his voice rough but steady. ¡°He¡¯s dead. Just wait.¡±


    The Warden chuckled, his voice echoing through the wall. ¡°Still standing? Impressive. But let¡¯s see how many tricks you have before crumbling.¡±


    Mitch¡¯s eyes darted to the pods around the Warden. The purple walls shimmered around him, and siphoned into the Warden¡¯s body. When his body began to glow, the man cackled from behind the wall that stood between them.


    The faint shimmer of energy siphoning into the Warden¡¯s body wasn¡¯t just for defense or torment. It was his lifeline. Their agony fed his strength.


    Not for long.


    ¡°Distract him, Sable,¡± Mitch ordered, his voice cutting through the chaos. ¡°Wires, Fractures, anything. Keep him busy.¡±


    Sable nodded sharply, her expression grim. She unleashed a flurry of wires that snapped and coiled toward the Warden. The gleaming threads struck the glowing wall, smacking against its surface. She followed up with a rapid Fracture. The sharp beam of energy slammed into the barrier and splintered sparks across the chamber.


    The Warden¡¯s mocking laughter rose above the noise. ¡°Is that the best you can do, Patchling? All your scraps, all your struggle¡ªit¡¯s meaningless.¡±


    Mitch¡¯s eyes locked onto the pods glowing behind the Warden. Each shimmer of siphoned energy poured into the man, fueling his grotesque power.


    ¡°I¡¯ll handle the rest,¡± Mitch said, his voice low but edged with determination.


    The Warden sneered. ¡°You¡¯ll handle nothing, doggy. This is my domain. Every soul, every scream belongs to me.¡±


    Hathgar¡¯s screams echoed in the background.


    I have to make it in time.


    The man was preparing a violent Skill. Mitch could feel the energy building in the air. The pressure building in the air was reflected in the glow that funneled into the man.


    Mitch launched into a sprint, his boots slamming against the blood-slicked floor. His target wasn¡¯t the Warden. Not yet.


    Rex howled in his mind, a guttural snarl of approval. Together, Mitch, Galadrith, and Rex charged into the darkness. Sable backed them up, splitting the Warden¡¯s attention.


    They ran towards the trapped. Towards the source of the Warden¡¯s power. Towards the closest pod that fed the Warden¡¯s glow.


    Hunts on.

 Chapter 36: Cracking Eggs

    ¡°Right towards me like a good dog,¡± the Warden¡¯s laughter cut through the chamber as Mitch sprinted towards him. The man¡¯s glow grew as he pulled more energy from the pods that surrounded him.


    Galadrith glowed in Mitch¡¯s hand as he propelled himself with his full strength. ¡°Shut him up,¡± the sword hissed in his mind. Rex growled in agreement, expanding and contracting in time with Mitch as he panted heavily.


    Mitch set fire to souls with Soul Sacrifice. Each one seared through his flesh, filling him with raw energy that forced him to move faster. Mitch barely considered the loss of souls as their fuel pushed him. Their sacrifice would aid him in ending the nightmare of the Farm.


    Settlement Amount: 257(-6) Souls, 338 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 556 Flesh.


    Before he knew it, Mitch was before one of the pods that fed the Warden. Inside, a small figure hung limp and cut¨Ca gnome, withered and broken. Even in his rushed state, Mitch could see the faint rise and fall of their chest.


    ¡°Break it.¡± Galadrith snarled.


    Mitch leapt through the air, raising Galadrith high. The blade¡¯s crimson aura flared. With a roar, Mitch brought the sword crashing down onto the pod.


    The pod shattered in a violent burst of purple shards that exploded out. The gnome tumbled to the ground, soul still captive in the jar that clattered but did not shatter onto the ground. The soul was withered and flickering. Mitch heard the gnome¡¯s pained moans as he slumped to the ground, shaking from pain.


    Thankfully, the tendrils of energy connecting the pod to the Warden snapped like brittle threads.


    The Warden staggered behind his wall. His glowing body dimmed slightly. ¡°You dare¨C?¡±


    Mitch trembled from the strain of the Soul Sacrifices. But he wasn¡¯t done. He planted his feet and swung again at the next pod. It too fed the Warden¡¯s power.


    Mitch¡¯s second strike cleaved through the pod¡¯s shimmering barrier with another crack. Purple light erupted as it shattered, and an elf fell forward, their cry of anguish piercing.


    They hit the ground hard. Limbs trembling as they clutched their cut chest.


    Another tendril of energy snapped away from the Warden and dissolved into the air. The elves'' hands reached for the jar that held their withered soul and cradled it to their chest, soul still trapped in the jar.


    But the Warden¡¯s laughter only grew louder. The glow around his body pulsed, pulling thicker tendrils, as he drew even more energy from the pods that surrounded him.


    ¡°Clever boy. But a couple of cracks won¡¯t stop me.¡± The Warden¡¯s sneer was like poison.


    Mitch turned to face the glowing wall shielding the Warden. ¡°You think you¡¯re untouchable,¡± he growled. ¡°But you¡¯re standing right here.¡±


    With all his strength, he swung Galadrith. The soul sword connected with the wall in a cataclysmic strike. A deafening roar filled the chamber, purple shards exploding outward as the barrier shattered under the blow.


    The Warden stumbled backward, his face testing into a wicked grin. ¡°You know,¡± he said mockingly. ¡°You should really work on that anger, doggy.¡±


    Before Mitch could move, the Warden¡¯s hand shot forward, his red-ringed finger glowing with a brilliant crimson light.


    A funnel of Abyssal fire roared forth. Massive, all-consuming torrent of molten agony that hit Mitch like a storm.


    The firestorm struck Mitch, engulfing him from head to toe. The heat seared through his flesh and bone. His skin bubbled and melted away, his muscle burned away, and the fire raged on towards his bones. The fallen elf and gnome were extinguished in the flame instantly.


    Mitch reached for their souls in the flames, but they were gone. Like their bodies, their souls had been roasted away.


    No!


    Rex¡¯s agonized howl flowed in his mind, the Shadowshroud shrinking under the assault. His armor reduced quickly as Rex was depleted from the assault.


    No! Rex! Hold on!


    Mitch¡¯s legs buckled under the overwhelming pain. But he refused to collapse before the Warden.


    Mitch devoured his reserves of flesh in a desperate attempt to keep him alive. Each wave of healing rebuilt what the fire destroyed, only for it to be burned again.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Settlement Amount: 257 Souls, 338 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 235(-321) Flesh.


    His nerves were ablaze with pain that stretched eternally. But even as his body was reduced to a smoldering ruin, Mitch stood.


    He took one step forward through the flame.


    Then another.


    Mitch¡¯s mind wavered, slipping into the abyss of pain as Agony¡¯s Embrace surged uncontrollably. The cycle of suffering and strength couldn¡¯t keep up with the torrent of fire tearing him apart. His body screamed for relief. His spirit flickered on the edge of collapse. He could feel it. His end was coming.


    But in the depths of his torment, a single thought cut through. Sharp and unyielding.


    All of them. Hathgar. Sable. Varak. Rex. They¡¯re counting on me.


    The faces of the tortured souls flashed in his mind like a brand against the darkness. Sable, fierce and unrelenting, fighting with everything she had. Hathgar, laughing and bold, a glimmer of hope in his new life. Varak, determined to change her path, seeking redemption in his shadow. Galadrith, a scarred soul, offering his unwavering service.


    Then came Ron. His fear-stricken face before he pulled the trigger. The man who had brought Mitch into this twisted world. Who had set him on this path of debt, pain, and unrelenting suffering.


    Fucking Ron.


    The weight of it all pressed down on him like a mountain. Their pain intertwined with his own. It wasn¡¯t just his agony. It was theirs. It was the weight of the debt that had consumed his actions and dragged him into this endless cycle of torment.


    And still, he stood. He stood before the torrent of Abyssal fire, refusing to fall. He stood for himself. For his friends. For those that followed him.


    Until he became something more.


    Affliction Skill Threshold Hit


    Affliction Skill Upgraded


    Agony¡¯s Embrace


    Level 8(+1)


    Pain is not just power¡ªit is defiance. Pain no longer defines you; it frees you.


    Harness suffering into unrelenting strength, permanently fortifying your body and amplifying your resolve.


    Consume Souls or Flesh to heal and rebuild. Souls may fuel what flesh alone cannot.


    +Mantle of Defiance (Sublevel 1)


    Radiate an invisible aura of defiance.


    For five beats of your heart, stand unshaken before horror, damage, or pain. Recharges through endured suffering.


    Mitch¡¯s body seized as the upgrade took hold. The notification flashed, but there was no time to process it. The howling pain of Rex filled his thoughts. Without hesitation, Mitch activated the sub ability.


    Mantle of Defiance Activated


    He propelled himself forward, the Mantle of Defiance around him, unseen, unyielding. It repelled the firestorm¡¯s suffocating force. For five beats of his heart, Mitch was untouchable. An unstoppable force tearing through the flames.


    ¡°Hold on, Rex!¡± Mitch¡¯s voice was raw with desperation. He felt the Shadowshroud¡¯s anguish echoing in his mind. The pain of his companion blistering and battered beneath the relentless torrent of fire. He couldn¡¯t let this continue. He wouldn¡¯t.


    Rex¡¯s presence withered to fragile threads clinging to his form. But Rex was alive. Still there. That was all Mitch needed to push harder.


    The Warden¡¯s laughter faltered, then died completely as Mitch emerged from the inferno.


    A hulking figure of burned flesh. He strode forward, every step filled with wrath.


    ¡°How¡­How are you still alive!?¡± the Warden sputtered as his flame torrent sputtered.


    Mitch didn¡¯t answer immediately. His body trembled, blood dripping from open wounds as flesh regrew from his healing reserves.


    Settlement Amount: 257 Souls, 338 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 209(-34) Flesh.


    ¡°We¡¯re not done,¡± Mitch answered the Warden coldly. He took another step forward, Galadrith glowing red in his hand. ¡°And you hurt my fucking dog.¡±


    Rex whimpered weakly in his mind. His presence felt faint but alive. Mitch¡¯s rage burned at the sound, but relief also made its way through.


    Rex was still with him. Barely, but he was there.


    Mitch approached the Warden as the man stumbled backwards, panic creeping across his face.


    Hathgar¡¯s screams echoed through the Farm.


    ¡°It¡¯s not possible!¡± the Warden sputtered, stumbling back as Mitch closed the distance. His hands shook, ¡°What are you? You¡¯re¡­you¡¯re no man¨Cyou¡¯re a monster!¡±


    Sable¡¯s wires snapped forward and wrapped tightly around the Warden¡¯s arms and chest. The man trashed, his movements erratic. ¡°You filthy¡ª¡± he snarled, but his voice faltered as his body began to dissolve into a shimmering purple mist. ¡°You can¡¯t hold me. I am the master here!¡±


    The Warden¡¯s form continued to dissolve, starting to siphon through the tendrils toward the nearest pod. He slipped through Sable¡¯s tightening wires. The mist curled and darted like a living thing.


    Mitch leapt at the man as he continued to dissolve, his form getting away.


    ¡°You¡¯re mine!¡± Mitch roared. He swung Galadrith, but the mist evaded him, flowing faster toward its escape. He couldn¡¯t let his monster escape¨Cnot after everything.


    ¡°No!¡± Sable shouted, her wires pulling tighter on his disintegrating form. ¡°You are NOT escaping.¡±


    Galadrith¡¯s voice rang out in Mitch¡¯s mind. ¡°I will not stand for this monster to escape.¡±


    With a burst of crimson energy, a chain shot out from Galadrith¡¯s hilt. The links rattled as they stretched through the air.


    Galadrith had unleashed his chains, and they shot forward faster than Mitch¡¯s eye could track.


    The Warden¡¯s misted form twisted towards a pod as the chain closed in. His scream echoed in time with Hathgar¡¯s wails.


    And then Galadrith¡¯s Chains struck.

 Chapter 37: Knucklehead

    ¡°None can escape Galadrith¡¯s Chains. For I am the Arbiter of Justice. Held by one Mitch. A form so perfect it must be held,¡± Galadrith¡¯s voice oozed pride as his chain struck.


    Subtle, Gal, Mitch thought back at his sword.


    The Warden¡¯s attempt to dissolve along the purple energy of the pods was violently interrupted as Galadrith¡¯s shackle hit the Warden. The glowing crimson links moved like a serpent. They wrapped around the Warden¡¯s ankle, wrapping tightly.


    The man¡¯s mist form stuttered, flickering in a failed projection as the chain yanked him backward.


    He crashed to the ground, and his body reformed with a sickening snap.


    ¡°No!¡± the Warden snarled, voice laced with panic. He clawed at the chains futilely, the links digging into his flesh. ¡°This is my domain! You cannot¨C¡±


    ¡°You keep saying that,¡± Mitch interrupted, advancing with deliberate menace. His shadow stretched long across the chamber, casting the Warden in darkness. ¡°You¡¯re really bad at proving it.¡±


    Before the Warden could summon another spell, Mitch pounced. He landed his full weight on the Warden, and drove his fist into the man¡¯s face.


    The impact rocked the Warden¡¯s face. Blood sprayed from the his nose. If Mitch wasn¡¯t careful, he would end this too quickly.


    ¡°No one hurts Rex and gets away with it,¡± Mitch growled, delivering another punch. His fist connected with a force that could shatter stone.


    The Warden¡¯s head snapped to the side, blood spraying in a crimson arc. Mitch¡¯s strength wasn¡¯t just monstrous¡ªit was unrelenting, honed through pain and fueled by fury. His power had grown massive from Agony¡¯s Embrace.


    The Warden¡¯s red-hand twitched, a faint low began to emanate from the gem.


    Mitch didn¡¯t hesitate. He slammed his fist into the man¡¯s face again, harder, cutting off the skill before it could take hold. The ground beneath them cracked from the force of the strike. The Warden¡¯s body jolted violently under Mitch¡¯s fist.


    A sharp snap cut through the air. Sable arrived silently, her wires shooting forward in a blinding fury. They coiled around the Warden¡¯s arms, chest, and legs with precision. He was bound to the ground like a pinned insect.


    The wires dug deep into his flesh, forcing the Warden to snarl in pain. ¡°Release me!¡± he spat, thrashing against the bonds.


    Sable¡¯s voice was cold and without pity. ¡°You¡¯re not going anywhere.¡±


    The Warden writhed, his movements desperate, but the wires held firm. Shackled by Galadrith¡¯s chains and Sable¡¯s wires.


    Mitch¡¯s eyes locked onto the red glinting ring. The gem seemed alive, feeding on something unseen.


    ¡°That¡¯s it,¡± Mitch said, voice laced with grimness. ¡°That¡¯s your power. It¡¯s not even yours. It¡¯s just been given to you¡­for this. How could you?¡±


    The Warden¡¯s sputtering began, his arrogance shattered. ¡°No! You don¡¯t understand what you¡¯re doing! That ring¨Cit¡¯s¨C¡±


    Mitch didn¡¯t let him finish. With a deliberate swing, Mitch brought Galadrith down viciously. The blade cleaved through the Warden¡¯s wrist, severing his hand in a single stroke.


    It fell to the floor with a wet thud, red ring still attached.


    The Warden screamed. Blood poured from the stump where his hand had been, pooling beneath him. His body convulsed as if the loss of the ring had ripped something vital from him.


    Immediately Mitch reached towards the ring with Abyssal Vault for the souls the Warden had taken from him. It was empty, save for the rancid feeling it filled Mitch with. The Souls were gone.


    ¡°No, they¡¯re gone,¡± He muttered softly.


    ¡°Yes! Smart. Very¡­Smart! Smash face. Again!¡± Varak¡¯s stilted speech echoed from behind Mitch and Sable.


    A skittering sound echoed through the chamber, bringing sharp clicks and the hum of movement. Mitch didn¡¯t need to look to know who it was.


    Varak led the Abyssal minions into the Farm, her form draped in her clinging brood.


    Her children clung to her, their spindly legs gripping tightly to her monstrous form. Smaller monsters surrounded her, Mitch¡¯s other minions and clearly prisoners that Varak had decided were loyal.


    The horde of bugs came too, crowding the ground and crawling over her brood. One particularly bold bug perched atop her head like a grotesque crown. Its mandibles clicked rhythmically.


    She raised a clawed hand, her voice cutting through the tense air. ¡°Go, master! Break¡­face! Break face!¡±


    Varak scuttled forward, her clawed feet scraping loudly against the stone floor. She stopped beside the Warden¡¯s crumpled form and tilted her head, studying him with exaggerated curiosity. Lifting a clawed hand, she poked the Warden on the forehead.


    Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    ¡°Bad. Very bad. Now¡­you trouble!¡±


    ¡°This one, Varak, is a welcome addition to our forces, Mitchell. A creature capable of nobility.¡± Galadrith spoke approvingly.


    The bold bug on her head let out a hiss.


    Varak¡¯s eyes lit up, and she poked the man again, this time in his eye. ¡°Even bug...agree. Good bug.¡±


    Her brood immediately joined in, their eerie chorus of clicks and hisses punctuating her words.


    Mich couldn¡¯t suppress a dark grin. If this was a nightmare, he¡¯d make sure the Warden bore the brunt of it. ¡°You heard them,¡± Mitch said, raising his fist again before cracking the Warden.


    His fist connected again with a crunch. The Warden¡¯s face swelled as blood splattered across Mitch¡¯s knuckles and stone floor. He didn¡¯t want to kill the man. Not yet. Mitch was going to get answers out of him.


    Varak tilted her head, watching with delight, her brood shifting on her. ¡°Oh yes! We¡­make you¡­pickled egg!¡± She clicked her mouth. ¡°Varak like egg pickle.¡±


    The bug on her head along with the minions let out a high-pitched hiss of agreement.


    Mitch turned his attention to the man¡¯s severed hand in the pool of blood. He picked it up, his eyes fixed on the red ring that glinted in the dim light.


    He could feel it. A sinister pull, beckoning him deeper into the Farm, toward the shadowed recesses at the back of the chamber. Something was there, audibly dripping.


    Later.


    He pulled off the ring and let the severed hand dangle in his grip. ¡°Rex,¡± he said softly. ¡°Eat.¡±


    Rex trembled weakly around Mitch. His once-dominant presence had been reduced to weak tendrils clinging to him. Burnt and ragged, Rex felt like a ghost of what he had been.


    At his command, Rex stirred. His mouth extended outward from the armor only. Slowly, Rex reached his jagged maw filled with black teeth toward the severed hand.


    The Warden, still groaning on the ground, let out a weak protest. ¡°No¡­you can¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Watch me,¡± Mitch answered as Rex¡¯s jaw clamped around it whole.


    The crunch of bone filled the air as Rex consumed the hand whole. The Shadowshroud shuddered, and Mitch could feel some of Rex¡¯s strength returning.


    The burnt edges of the armor mended slightly, knitting back together over Mitch¡¯s body Rex¡¯s presence, though weakened, felt stronger.


    Mitch straightened. The pull of the ring still lingered in his pocket, urging him toward the back of the Farm, but there was something more pressing to attend to. The ragged whimpers of Hathgar.


    ¡°Varak, keep him here. And keep him alive,¡± Mitch said before turning and storming off in the direction of his friend.


    Varak clicked her hands and mouth together. The minions surrounded the Warden alongside the bugs. ¡°Oh yes! Guard. Like egg. Very¡­safe!¡± she declared, clacking her claws together.


    Sable fell into step beside him, ¡°We¡¯re leaving him alive? What?¡±


    ¡°For now. He¡¯s going to answer some questions for us. How these pods work, for one. Where your soul is, for two. Then, we kill him.¡± Mitch responded. Sable¡¯s eyebrows raised high.


    He stormed through the chamber, his boots echoing against the wet stone. Pods filled the Farm, their occupants no longer writhing in agony but watching him with desperate, pleading eyes. Some pressed weak hands to the glass, others simply stared, their faces hollowed by exhaustion.


    Beside each pod, the glass jars hovered unnaturally. Inside the jars, each pod¡¯s occupant soul flickered. Trapped behind glass. Their tendril that connected through the pod and into their bodies were often dim, but many were not extinguished. Some however, were.


    Grimlace no longer pooled constantly on the still alive soul tendrils. Their souls no longer wept the sludgy drug from their torment.


    Mitch glanced at the jars as he passed. Each one had been ripped from their bodies and trapped like a caged bird.


    Going to have to break all these open. I hope that works.


    Behind him, Varak¡¯s voice rose over the Warden¡¯s muffled groans. ¡°Pickled! Egg!¡± Her brood hissed and clacked in unison, their eerie chorus almost drowning out the Warden¡¯s weak cries.


    The air was heavy with a mix of dread and expectation, the prisoners silent pleas weighing on Mitch¡¯s shoulders. The sound of his boots scuffing the floor seemed deafening in the oppressive silence.


    Mitch stopped in front of Hathgar¡¯s pod. Beside it, the glass jar holding his soul pulsed faintly, its glow weaker than many of the others.


    Inside, the dwarf was barely recognizable. His squat frame, once sturdy, was reduced to a skeletal shadow of itself. His skin was pale, stretched over sharp bones, and riddled with angry, festering cuts. Blood and grime matted the tufts of hair on his arms and chest. His once-proud red beard, a symbol of dwarven resilience, hung limp and streaked with filth.


    The sight of his friend like this felt like a punch to the gut. Hathgar had always been the kind of person who¡¯d stare down an avalanche with a laugh, but now, he looked like a man who¡¯d been sliced and buried alive.


    As Mitch drew closer, a flicker of life stirred in the dwarf¡¯s sunken eyes. Slowly, they opened, shining through the hollow of his face. His gaze locked onto Mitch¡¯s and recognition flared like an ember.


    Hathgar¡¯s cracked lips moved, his voice a horse whisper. ¡°Yer¡­here. How? Mitch, I thought¡­¡±


    Mitch huffed out a breath that might have been a laugh¡ªor a sob. ¡°I¡¯m here,¡± he muttered, forcing the words past the tightness in his throat.


    Mitch brought his fist down onto the pod with all his strength. The pod shattered with a thunderous crack. Shards flew outward in all directions and dissipated into mist. A rush of stale air escaped as the pod¡¯s confines were destroyed.


    Hathgar slumped forward as the pod gave way, his frail body crumpling like paper. Mitch lunged to catch him before he hit the ground, snatching the falling jar as well. His arms wrapped around the skeletal figure of his friend.


    Cuts and bruises marred every inch of his skin. His beard hung limp and matted, and his breath came in weak, shallow gasps. His soul still remained in the jar.


    But Hathgar was breathing.


    The dwarf stirred weakly, his head lolling against Mitch¡¯s shoulder. His sunken eyes cracked open to meet his eyes.


    ¡°Fookin¡¯ red-ringed orcs.¡± Hathgar grumbled as Mitch held him up.


    Mitch¡¯s chest tightened. His lips twitched into a small, weary smile as he exhaled a breath he didn¡¯t realize he¡¯d been holding. After everything, Hathgar¡¯s spirit hadn¡¯t been broken.


    Mitch held Hathgar tightly as the relief waved through him. For days, he¡¯d feared finding nothing but a broken husk¨Cor worse, an empty pod. But Hathgar was alive.


    The fight was far from over¡­but this was a victory.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Mitch said softly. ¡°Fookin¡¯ red-ringed orcs.¡±

 Chapter 38: Chicken

    Mitch sat down heavily on the cold stone floor, his body trembling with exhaustion. Sweat dripped from his brow and mixed with the grime streaking his face. His arms and knuckles were raw and swollen from hours of smashing the pods apart, and his breath came in labored gasps.


    The cavern that had housed the Farm was now filled with the faint crackle of fire and the moans of the freed prisoners who lay huddled together.


    It¡¯s finally done. That was a lot of pods.


    Many of the released captives clutched the jars containing their souls like lifelines. The tendrils that connected their souls to their bodies pulsed faintly. Some dimmer than others. None of the jars had broken, even when dropped. He could only wonder how they were supposed to get the souls back into the bodies where they belonged.


    Agony¡¯s Embrace felt raw from the constant healing he had to apply to himself to keep smashing the pods. He had burned through more flesh than he wanted to admit in his efforts. Throughout the entire process, he refused to use any more souls to free the prisoners. He¡¯d also siphoned flesh from the dead when he thought no one was looking.


    Settlement Amount: 257 Souls, 338 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 79(-130) Flesh.


    Varak scuttled about with her brood and the other minions. Her children scrambled over the freed prisoners, bringing them scraps of found cloth and bits of food. A low fire burned nearby, roasting the chickens Varak and the minions had salvaged from the Warden¡¯s hidden stash they had found in a box.


    The monster mother darted between the hundreds of wounded, her clawed hands glowing faintly as she patched torn flesh when allowed by the prisoners. As it turned out, Varak¡ªan Abyssal Monster no less, and bound to Mitch¡ªhad an extremely rare flesh healing ability. It only sealed wounds, but it helped the freed Pod prisoners tremendously.


    ¡°Bad...broken meat. But...I fix. Fixable! Varak fix.¡± Varak argued with a freed elf who refused her services.


    The prisoner, stronger than most, flinched away from the undercooked morsel of meat Varak¡¯s children held out. ¡°What¡ªwhat are you?! A creature of the dark! Get away from me! Before I kill you!¡± the man yelled, his voice hoarse with fear.


    Varak tilted her head, her many eyes blinking in unison. ¡°Friend. Friend Mitch,¡± she pointed a clawed hand at Mitch¡¯s seated form. ¡°Healer! Not...bite! Only seal. Seal good. Seal tight! Make fresh meat.¡± she clicked reassuringly, her brood chirping in agreement.


    But the elf backed away, clutching his jar tighter. ¡°You think I¡¯ll let you touch me?¡± he spat. ¡°You¡¯re Abyssal filth.¡± Varak hesitated, her glowing claws dimming. She blinked all of her eyes twice, clicking her mandibles in a slow, deliberate rhythm before withdrawing.


    Her brood chirped mournfully as they scuttled back to her side. ¡°Fix meat...no. No fix,¡± she muttered softly, her gaze lowering.


    Mitch caught her expression and felt a pang of frustration. Not at her, but the prisoners. She was trying. Trying harder than most people he¡¯d met.


    People.


    The elf backed away, clutching his jar tighter. Mitch sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. He could feel the growing tension in the air¨Cthe whisper and glares at Varak, her brood, and the other minions that tried to help.


    The freed prisoners were traumatized and angry. That meant they needed someone to blame. And it wasn¡¯t long before the injured prisoner¡¯s emotions boiled over.


    ¡°Don¡¯t let them near me!¡± a woman hissed, clutching her soul jar like her wallet. Her knuckles whitened around it as one of Varak¡¯s brood approached, chirping softly with a piece of chicken.


    ¡°Get away from me, you monster!¡± a man shouted, hurling a rock at the Abyssal child. The small creature dodged, skittering back towards its mother with a frightened yelp. The man scrambled to his feet, jar clutched tightly under one arm. ¡°Kill it! Kill the Abyssal monster!¡±


    ¡°And what about him? With the bugs! And the Shadowshroud!¡± a woman¡¯s voice rose from the crowd, suspicious as she pointed at Mitch¡¯s form. ¡°He¡¯s got their magic! He¡¯s one of them, isn¡¯t he? Abyssal filth masquerading as a savior! With a Scrapling no less!¡±


    Murmurs rippled through the group, uneasy whispers spreading. ¡°Yeah, he used some Abyssal power to break those pods. It¡¯s not right, I tell ya, unnatural,¡± another prisoner muttered. ¡°What if he turns on us next? What if this is all just another trap?¡±


    There was no point in defending himself. No explanation would satisfy them. They were tired, hurt, and angry.


    Before Mitch could react, Sable¡¯s voice rang out. ¡°ENOUGH!¡± She stormed toward the man, eyes blazing with fury.


    The man flinched back from her but didn¡¯t back down. ¡°They¡¯re monsters! Abyssal monsters! Kill them! Or I will!¡±


    Much of the watching crowd roared their approval.


    Sable didn¡¯t stop until she was right in front of him. Her wires unfurled slightly in her palm. ¡°You don¡¯t have to like them,¡± she said, voice full of menace. ¡°But these specific monsters are part of the reason you¡¯re not still dying and being cut in one of those pods.¡±


    She jabbed a finger toward Mitch, who watched her anger with raised eyebrows. ¡°You see him? He freed you. Beat the people that were keeping you here, in those fucking pods,¡± she pointed at Varak and the other minions. ¡°THEY helped him. So if you even think about taking a swing at these monsters, you¡¯ll answer to him. And I promise you,¡± she paused to look around the watching crowd, ¡°he won¡¯t be as nice as I am.¡±


    She scanned the crowd, her wired retracting. ¡°That goes for all of you. These creatures are off-limits. You don¡¯t have to trust them, but they helped save your asses. Show some fucking gratitude.¡±


    Mitch gave Sable a nod of approval, but she didn¡¯t look back at him. Instead, she crouched beside one of Varak¡¯s children and checked it for injuries.


    The prisoners exchanged uneasy looks. Their anger and fear was held in check by exhaustion. Sable¡¯s words had doused the flames, but embers of doubt smoldered.


    He met their stares briefly before turning away. He didn¡¯t have the energy to argue with them, nor the desire.


    Most of the prisoners held onto their jars tightly, their withered hands trembling. He didn¡¯t know if they could survive long without their souls restored, but his gut told him the Warden would know.


    One step at a time, Mitch. You¡¯ll figure it out.


    Hathgar lay on the floor near Mitch, tearing into a roasted chicken leg with gusto. He watched Varak as she worked, his approval clear but begrudgingly given. Hathgar had been the first to be healed by Varak after a heated persuasion from Mitch. The dwarf¡¯s wounds had been sealed to scars, but he remained brutally thin and ragged.


    ¡°Ye¡¯ve saved them, lad. They might hate ya for it, for what¡­Skills I heard ya got, but that¡¯s the way of it. But¡­an Abyssal creature playing nursemaid? Never thought I¡¯d see the day,¡± Hathgar grumbled amusedly.


    Mitch watched Varak, who hummed a strange tune as she watched Sable stitch together a prisoner¡¯s wound. ¡°Hathgar, for fuck¡¯s sake, take a look at what she¡¯s doing. We need her, alright? Hell, we need every damn hand we can get.¡± he replied dryly.


    Hathgar¡¯s sharp eyes flicked to Mitch¡¯s sweating body. ¡°You look like you¡¯ve been punching stone walls for hours, and need a damned ale. Stars, what I would do with an ale right now. It wouldn¡¯t be natural,¡± he said, his voice lighter than his expression. ¡°Never thought I¡¯d see you that stubborn over anything.¡±


    Mitch smirked faintly but didn¡¯t answer. Instead, he looked at the jar pulsing faintly beside Hathgar. Its tendrils were weak but holding.


    Hathgar caught the glance, narrowing his eyes. ¡°You¡¯ll tell me what¡¯s really going on, aye Mitch?¡± he asked, quieter this time.


    Mitch sighed. ¡°Yes¨Cjust not now. We¡¯ve got much bigger problems. Like how to get the hell out of here..get them out of here.¡±


    Hathgar snorted, tearing off another bite. ¡°Whatever it is, Mitch, I¡¯ve got ya. Bloody came down here and got my dwarven ass, didn¡¯t ya? Aye, ya can damn well count on that. Just never thought I¡¯d see the day I¡¯d like an Abyssal critter. Feels like madness.¡±


    Galadrith¡¯s voice hummed in Mitch¡¯s mind. ¡°You are breaking the chains of this place, Mitchell. Rest but a moment. Then continue. The job is not done.¡±


    Mitch exhaled slowly as Hathgar¡¯s words settled between them. The dwarf stared at Mitch with an intensity that made him shift uncomfortably.


    ¡°Seriously, lad. Thank ye,¡± Hathgar said finally, his voice soft. ¡°I don¡¯t say that lightly. Ya saved my hide, and now I¡¯ve got yours. Didn¡¯t have ta¡ªnot down here, not through...this.¡± He gestured at the cavern around them.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    ¡°You¡¯re my friend, Hathgar, even if you don¡¯t like Rex,¡± Mitch replied with a faint grin. ¡°Besides, you called us brothers in that dwarven bar¡ªkind of had to save you after that..¡±


    Hathgar¡¯s deep, low chuckle rumbled out, broken but warm. ¡°Aye, brother,¡± he said, the word carrying weight. ¡°Fair enough, though I reckon your mutt helped a bit.¡±


    As if summoned by the mention, Rex prowled into view. In his depleted form, the Shadowshroud dragged a body across the chamber. The tendrils connecting him to Mitch stretched thin and he could feel Rex¡¯s weakness. His jagged teeth tore into the flesh, the sound of ripping echoing in the empty space. Rex would have to feast a lot to fully heal himself.


    Compared to all other Abyssal creatures, Shadowshrouds were well known for their fierce loyalty to their bonded wearer. Rex has skirted by most of the hate Varak and the other abyssal creatures received.


    Mitch¡¯s grin faded, replaced by a weary expression as he watched Rex consume the fallen. The sight of the lifeless body¨Cone of the prisoners he hadn¡¯t been able to save¨Cbrought a wave of guilt. He had been too slow. Whether in escaping the Pit, or cracking their pod. It didn¡¯t matter.


    Their soul had already been gone when he and Sable had arrived. Like countless others they had stacked into a pile off to the side.


    Hathgar followed Mitch¡¯s gaze, his sharp eyes narrowing as he watched Rex work. The dwarf gnawed at the bones of his chicken leg, his expression somewhere between grim acceptance and dry amusement.


    ¡°Twisted sense of dinner, though,¡± Hathgar muttered, shaking his head. ¡°Suppose he protected ya right. Shadowshrouds are strong if fed. Same as that ghastly sword ya nicked off me and my clan,¡± Hathgar added to lighten the mood.


    ¡°Nicked? What did he say? Mitchell, did you steal my vessel prior to my inhabitation? The small man is joking, yes?¡± Galadrith sounded aghast.


    Mitch didn¡¯t respond to Hathgar¡¯s comment or Galadrith. Instead, he picked up an empty jar lying nearby. One of the fallen¡¯s jars. The weight of it felt wrong¨Cfar too heavy than what it should be.


    ¡°Where do the souls go?¡± Mitch asked. ¡°The ones that are¡­gone.¡±


    Hathgar paused, the usual joking tone replaced by a rare note of uncertainty. ¡°Never thought I¡¯d love to see souls in jars, lad. There are legends¡­but they all go to the same place.¡±


    Galadrith¡¯s voice filled Mitch¡¯s mind, steady and deliberate. ¡°They go to the bottom. To the Abyss¡¯s maw. For whatever the Abyss decides. Until they are extinguished.¡±


    The words sent a shiver down Mitch¡¯s spine. He stared into the jar¡¯s emptiness.


    The bottom. The Abyss¡¯s maw, Mitch thought. It felt like a condemnation.


    ¡°They deserve better than that¡­¡± Mitch murmured, more to himself than anyone else.


    Hathgar grunted, his voice rough with a strange kind of comfort. ¡°Aye. They do. There are tales, ya know. Of a time when the Abyss weren¡¯t here. Old tales, that. But ain¡¯t no one can beat the Abyss. If that Masked Lord couldn¡¯t... Bah, best to live your life as far away from the Abyss as possible. Long as ya can.¡± Hathgar waved his hand as he tossed the bone to Rex, who crunched on it in a single snap.


    Mitch set the jar down, its clunk against the stone barely audible over the fire. He watched Rex, who continued his grim feast with slow, deliberate bites.


    There will be answers¨Cthe Warden can give them.


    Hathgar rubbed his wild beard, and gestured with his chin. ¡°How is it then, lad? The sword. Looks like it¡¯s gotten some use. It really is something else, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    Mitch ran a hand over Galadrith¡¯s hilt. The sword glowed red and filled the space around him with a potent presence.


    ¡°Something else, indeed. I am Galadrith, a magnificent specimen of unrivaled craftsmanship and formidable mastery. A blade so perfect that all should bow before my glory! Laud me across the world¨Cnay, the realms.¡± Galadrith monologued to Mitch alone. Only the holder of a soul sword would hear the inhabitant, Mitch had learned.


    You¡¯re lucky only I can hear you, man. Another soliloquy? Really? Mitch thought back.


    Mitch smiled faintly at Hathgar, shaking his head. ¡°Incredible. Chatty,¡± he admitted. ¡°His name is Galadrith. He¡¯s insanely strong. I never thought it would be like this. Still getting used to it, honestly. Carrying such a strong weapon,¡±


    ¡°Used to perfection? Impossible. I have much to teach, but that is outside the realm of possibility.¡± Galadrith interjected Mitch¡¯s thoughts.


    Before Mitch or Hathgar could speak again, Sable appeared at their side. Her posture was tense. She glanced toward the Warden, who lay to the side, still gagged and bound beneath a swarm of bugs.


    ¡°It¡¯s time to get some answers from him,¡± she said, her voice sharp. Her different colored eyes burned with determination. She had been patient, moving among the freed prisoners, stitching wounds and offering support.


    Her focus had shifted. There was information she wanted uncovered. Mitch could feel her impatience through their Abyssal Bind.


    Mitch got to his feet, and Varak scuttled over with her brood trailing behind her. Over her shoulder, she gestured with three of her clawed hands toward a small group of Abyssal monster prisoners who she had freed from cells. She had deemed them loyal to Mitch, and now they followed her without Abyssal Bind applied to them.


    ¡°For¡­Master,¡± Varak began, her voice clicking. ¡°More creature.¡± She tilted her head as if awaiting approval, but Mitch sent a mental command before she could continue.


    Not now. Later. Please. You are doing a good job. We just need to do that¡­not here. Mitch¡¯s eyes scanned around the freed people and then the monsters that awaited their binding.


    Varak hesitated, one eye swiveling toward Hathgar as the dwarf watched her. She gave the dwarf a faint nod, muttering under her breath. ¡°Not now. Later. More¡­chicken, hmmm.¡± her brood cheered at the mention of more food.


    Mitch crouched down next to Varak as her brood scuttled around her. Her many eyes turned to him, mandibles clicking with what Mitch now recognized as nervousness. She had the glares, the whispers, rocks. It was hard to miss.


    ¡°Master?¡± she asked quietly.


    Mitch reached out, resting a hand on her shoulder. The texture of her exoskeleton was rough and alien, but he didn¡¯t pull away. ¡°Varak,¡± he said firmly. ¡°Listen to me. When we¡¯re gone questioning the Warden, keep your distance. If any of them try something, don¡¯t fight. Run. Hide if you have to. Take the brood and the others with you.¡±


    Her mandibles paused, her many eyes blinking in unison. ¡°Run...hide¡­?¡± she repeated slowly, as though testing the words. Her brood let out soft chirps of protest, the sound echoing faintly in the cavern.


    He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. ¡°You¡¯re too important to lose. Do you understand? This isn¡¯t retreating. It¡¯s surviving. For me. For them,¡± he gestured at her children and the other minions.


    Varak hesitated, her mandibles clicking faintly. Lowering her voice to a whisper, she added, ¡°But¡­Varak not leave Mitch. Varak stay.¡±


    A pang struck Mitch¡¯s chest. Her loyalty was unwavering, he could feel as much through their bond. ¡°You¡¯re not leaving me,¡± he assured her, his tone softening. ¡°You¡¯re keeping yourself and the brood safe. And the other Abyssals. For me. That¡¯s an order.¡±


    She paused, then gave a small, reluctant nod. ¡°For¡­Master,¡± she murmured, her voice tinged with determination. ¡°Varak¡­obey. Run, hide, keep brood¡­and other creatures safe¡­for Mitch.¡±


    Mitch exhaled, relieved but not fully at ease. He straightened and looked around the dim cavern. The freed prisoners huddled in clusters, their gazes full of suspicion. He needed someone, or something, he could count on while he wasn¡¯t here.


    Rex, listen up.


    The Shadowshroud acknowledged his words through their bond while he continued to tear into his meal from his shadowed corner.


    Keep watch while I¡¯m gone, Mitch commanded. If anything happens¨Cif anyone attacks Varak or the others¨CI want to know immediately. Alert me. Do not hurt anyone unless you have no choice.


    Rex let out a low snarl, a flick of understanding passing through Mitch. The Shadowshroud would obey.


    ¡°Good, I¡¯m counting on you, Rex.¡± Mitch said aloud.


    He turned back to Varak. ¡°Rex will let me know if anything happens. You¡¯re not alone. Just focus on keeping everyone safe.¡±


    Varak¡¯s mandibles clicked in what Mitch could only interpret as agreement. ¡°Master¡­smart. Shadow-dog¡­strong. All stay. Watch. Cook chicken,...maybe bug.¡± she said with a faint chirp of determination.


    Mitch straightened, and gave her one last look before turning back toward the Warden.


    ¡°Can we question this fuck already?¡± Sable said sharply.


    With Rex watching over Varak and the brood, Mitch turned his focus to the next challenge¡ªthe Warden. Answers waited, and Mitch was done wasting time.


    He and Sable approached the Warden, leaving Hathgar to rest. The man lay alarmingly still as he was still bound by Sable¡¯s wires. Bugs under Varak¡¯s command crawled all over him, their legs holding him as they guarded like loyal sentinels.


    The Warden¡¯s head snapped up as Mitch neared. His eyes were bloodshot and wild. His muffled grumble turned into a growl against the gag they had applied.


    Mitch felt something draw his attention. A pulse of energy from the back of the Farm. The key he wore from Mathilda dragged him further into the Warden¡¯s Farm, but there was something else there as well.


    He ignored it for now. His attention was on the man before him.


    ¡°Time to talk, Warden,¡± Mitch said with cold austerity.


    The gagged man grumbled again, his glare sharp as the bugs shifted around him. Their mandibles clicked in warning.


    Mitch crouched down to meet the Warden¡¯s gaze. The faint flicker of power from the farthest recesses of the cavern was distracting, but he needed to focus. Whatever it was, it could wait for now.


    Focus, Mitch, damnit.


    Pushing, Mitch sent his distracted thoughts into Devoid. Like a locked box, his attention singled in on the Warden and Sable¡¯s presence. Right now, he needed answers. And the Warden would give those answers. He would deal with the tugging sensation and Mathilda¡¯s key afterwards. What he was willing to do to the Warden for those answers didn¡¯t bother him. The man was a monster.


    Much better. You better not be leading me into a trap, Mathilda.


    He set down the empty jar next to the Warden¡¯s head. It clinked sharply onto the ground. The soul that had inhabited it was gone. Wander would answer for that. After Mitch got what he wanted.


    Sable too.


    ¡°And I¡¯d suggest you start with the truth. For your own sake.¡±


    Mitch scooped the Warden¡¯s dense body up, sending the Bugs scattering along the floor that had covered him.


    He began walking back towards the prison where the monsters were held.


    Rex, don¡¯t forget. Watch.


    Rex¡¯s low snarl echoed in Mitch¡¯s mind, the bond laced with understanding. He would watch.

 Chapter 39: Oh hi, Mook

    Mitch adjusted the weight of the Warden¡¯s bound body over his naked shoulder. Sweat dripped from his brow as they trudged through the metal lined tunnels leading to the prison where the Abyssal monsters were held. Through his ever-persistent tendril, he felt Rex continuing his grim feast of the fallen in the Farm cavern. Their connection was distant but steady.


    Bugs swarmed across every available surface, trailing behind them in an eerie procession. They lined the ceiling, floor, and walls at Mitch¡¯s command. The Warden groaned weakly, his muffled voice barely audible through the gag. Mitch ignored him.


    Sable walked beside him, her gaze fixed ahead. In her arms, she carried the unconscious form of a frail gnome, the tiny figure emaciated and trembling with the effort of holding onto life. His breath came in shallow gasps, his body on the brink of death. Sable¡¯s grip on the gnome¡¯s soul jar was firm. Her free hand wrapped protectively around it as the faint soul within flickered erratically. The tendril that connected to the gnome¡¯s body was impossibly thin.


    They had chosen the gnome deliberately. His failing health marked him as an unfortunate but necessary subject for their grim experiments


    ¡°We¡¯re running out of time,¡± Sable said. Her mismatched eyes darted to Mitch. He nodded but didn¡¯t respond. The prison loomed ahead, its oppressive heat intensifying with every step. They had opted to question the Warden in the relative isolation of the Abyssal prison, away from the eyes of the freed pod prisoners.


    Mook brought up the rear, trailing just behind Mitch and Sable. The small but wiry Abyssal monster bore an unsettling resemblance to a bear with demonic features. Sharp, angular claws, and a jagged maw that never seemed to fully close. His glowing, eager eyes darted about as he carried an empty soul jar cradled in his claws like a sacred artifact.


    Mook¡¯s inclusion had not been Mitch¡¯s choice. Varak had insisted they bring along the unbound creature she had freed from the prison. Her adamance had been impossible to refuse. ¡°Good. Smart. Loyal. Know¡­soul magic. Help you,¡± she had said, pushing the shy creature, Mook, forward.


    Mitch had rolled his eyes at the time but relented. He glanced over his shoulder at the monster. ¡°She practically threw you at us. Do you know your stuff, Mook?¡± Mitch asked, his voice laced with skepticism. The weight of everything, the prison, the jars holding souls, the Warden, was almost too much.


    To his surprise, Mook straightened, adjusting the jar in his claws with almost human precision. When he spoke, his voice was steady, rich, and unexpectedly articulate. Entirely unlike the jagged body he inhabited.


    ¡°Do I know my stuff?¡± Mook said, mildly annoyed. ¡°I wasn¡¯t always¡­this,¡± he gestured at his twisted form. ¡°Once, I fought against the Abyss. I was a scholar, a mage. A gentleman. My comrades thought they could outwit it and get rich. We failed. You think I was in Abyssal prison to be tortured and then killed for no good reason?¡±


    ¡°How lucky to be to be within the first cycle. I endured centuries of imprisonment and recycling,¡± Galadrith said bitterly in Mitch¡¯s mind.


    Mitch blinked, thrown by the eloquence. ¡°You¡­kept your mind? You remember who you were? All of it?¡±


    Mook¡¯s jagged mouth twitched into something resembling a grimace¨Cor a smile. ¡°Not everything,¡± he admitted, his claws tightening on the jar. ¡°The recycling is not kind. Nor is the Abyss. What I do recall is fragments. I know I fought. I know I lost. And I know it didn¡¯t kill me¨Cnot completely.¡±


    Sable¡¯s eyes met the monsters. ¡°Why would it keep you alive then? The Abyss doesn¡¯t seem the type to leave loose ends.¡±


    Mook¡¯s eyes narrowed, his tone turning bitter. ¡°It doesn¡¯t. I was recycled, Miss Patchling. Broken down. Then sent for torture. To die and then be remade again. Until it stuck, probably,¡± His claws tapped lightly against the jar, a steady rhythm like a twitch. ¡°I suspect the Abyss wanted to reforge me into something useful for it.¡±


    Mitch frowned, his grip tightening on the Warden as they trudged forward. ¡°But you held onto some of it. Your knowledge. Your mind.¡±


    Mook¡¯s head dipped in a nod. ¡°A sliver. My precious previous Skills must have anchored me somehow. I was obviously a genius. Yet it is a cruel irony¨Cthe very talents that damned me must have kept me sane enough to remember what I lost.¡±


    ¡°And now?¡± Mitch asked. ¡°What¡¯s keeping you going? Why have you decided to help us?¡±


    ¡°Spite,¡± Mook said simply. ¡°If the Abyss made me to be a tool, then I shall be a broken one.¡±


    A dry laugh escaped Mitch. ¡°Tell me about it, Mook,¡± he said, giving Sable a look. She gave him a questioning glance back.


    The Warden groaned softly, breaking the moment. His muffled protests grew louder as they rounded the corner. Mitch pulled the rusted metal door open.


    As it opened, the oppressive heat spilled out, suffocating and thick. The Abyssal creatures held captive caught sight of the Warden, and the air erupted with snarls and howls. Twisted forms lunged against the bars of their cages, claws raking the metal.


    The gnome in her arms stirred but didn¡¯t wake, his fragile frame trembling even in unconsciousness.


    Without ceremony, Mitch slammed the door behind the bugs, and threw the Warden onto the rock floor. The bound man landed with a muffled grunt, his head bouncing against the hard surface.


    The creature¡¯s howls grew louder. They slammed themselves against their enclosures, warped bodies trying to snake through. Mitch¡¯s eyes scanned the room, taking in the reactions.


    ¡°Even they hate him,¡± Sable said sharply. She crouched down, placing the gnome gently on the floor. The soul jar was placed right next to the dying gnome.


    Mook entered behind them, the heavy heat seeming to have no effect on him. He carried the other, empty jar with deliberate care as he set it near the thrashing Warden.


    The Warden flinched, his body twitching as the jar clinked against the floor. His muffled protests became more frantic.


    ¡°Quiet,¡± Mitch ordered. He gestured to the swarm of bugs trailing and waiting behind them.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    With a silent command, the bugs moved, crawling across the Warden¡¯s limbs. Chitters filled the room as they swarmed his face.


    Minions: Abyssal Mice: 4, Abyssal Fodder: 4, Abyssal Bugs: 423


    The Warden trashed violently, muffled screams locked behind the gag. Mitch pushed the bugs to bite down, hard, but not too dig deep.


    ¡°Keep still, or they¡¯ll dig deeper,¡± Mitch warned like ice. He crouched beside the Warden, feeling the burn of purpose.


    Time for some real answers.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to answer my questions. At the end, you will die. How you die is up to you. I can have these bugs eat you for days, or I can end it quickly,¡± he sucked his teeth. ¡°The choice is yours.¡± The Warden¡¯s frenzied eyes stayed locked on Mitch.


    Mitch reached over and tugged the gag out of the Warden¡¯s mouth. The man gasped for air, coughing before stammering. ¡°I¡¯ll talk! Just¨Cjust keep them back!¡±


    Mitch gave a nod, and the bugs stilled but didn¡¯t retreat. Their precedence remained, a reminder of Mitch¡¯s control.


    ¡°How do you know about the debt?¡± Mitch asked, not caring that Sable heard him.


    The sharp intake of breath from Sable beside him didn¡¯t escape Mitch¡¯s notice. She had heard it. The confirmation of something she might have suspected. Mitch didn¡¯t look at her, his focus on the Warden in front of him.


    ¡°The¡­ring,¡± the Warden stammered. ¡°It-it told me. When I wore it, it spoke. Whispered truths! Demands in exchange for power!¡± Mitch analyzed the man¡¯s face, and didn¡¯t see any lies present.


    Mitch leaned closer, ¡°Who gave you the ring?¡±


    The Warden flinched, his head jerking back. ¡°A man¡­from the Sect! A handler. Shadowreach has many, but he¨Che¡¯s the one who captures them for me! I provide marks in the notebook! That¡¯s¡­that¡¯s how I speak with them!¡±


    ¡°What Sect?¡± Mitch pressed, letting the Warden continue.


    The Warden hesitated, sweat dripping down his face, but a few bugs skittered closer to his neck, their mandibles clicking menacingly. He winced. ¡°The Sect of Dread! That¡¯s what they¡¯re called. They handle things. Know the Abyss better than anyone. Practically worship the damned thing.¡±


    Mitch briefly glanced at Sable, whose mismatched eyes burned with intensity.


    ¡°And how do you receive your instructions? Don¡¯t lie to me,¡± Mitch asked, his voice razor-sharp.


    ¡°The ring! Only the ring!¡± the Warden shouted. ¡°I had no choice¨Cit¨Cit¨Cit makes you listen! You don¡¯t understand what it¡¯s like, the pressure¨Cit¡ª¡±


    Mitch slammed his hand down on the rock beside the Warden¡¯s head. Mitch knew the pull the Warden spoke of. The graze and prod of the Abyss. It bound and pushed him in ways he barely comprehended. From stomping the Grimmer on his first day in Shadowreach, to controlling Sable¡¯s mind.


    There are always choices.


    ¡°Yes, Mitchell. You see.¡± Galadrith¡¯s voice spoke proudly in his mind. The ring pulled in Mitch¡¯s pocket. There was power within it. Twisted and malformed. It tugged like the key, the Abyss, and the hidden depths of the farm they hadn¡¯t yet explored.


    The bugs shifted, but stayed latched onto the man. ¡°I don¡¯t care about your excuses. You had a choice. Now, focus. Are there other Grimlace farms?¡±


    The Warden hesitated, and Mitch¡¯s eyes narrowed. A bug bit into the man¡¯s ear, and he howled. ¡°Yes! Yes, there are others! I don¡¯t know where¨Cthey don¡¯t tell me! They only tell me I did well! Butcher was sent by them as well!¡±


    ¡°Who brings the jars?¡± Mitch demanded.


    The Warden¡¯s lips trembled, his face pale. ¡°They¨Cthey were here before I came. They¡¯re just¨Cthey¡¯re delivered! Dropped off. I¨Cdon¡¯t know who sends them.¡±


    ¡°Lies,¡± Mitch said, his voice a deadly whisper. ¡°You know more than that.¡±


    The Warden shook his head violently. ¡°I swear! I swear, I don¡¯t¨C¡±


    The bugs surged, their pincers digging into his skin. The Warden belted out a brutal scream. ¡°Please! I don¡¯t know! I swear on the stars themselves, I don¡¯t know more!¡±


    Mitch studied his bleeding face for a moment, then signaled for the bugs to stop.


    Behind him, Sable finally spoke. ¡°The debt, Mitch. What does he mean by that? What is going on?¡±


    Mitch felt his back tighten, hands flexing at his sides. He didn¡¯t look at her, but felt her worry in their connection through Abyssal Bind. ¡°Not now, Sable.¡±


    She didn¡¯t push, but the weight of her stare lingered against his body.


    Mook stepped forward, his demonic form casting a shadow over the Warden. ¡°He speaks the truth about the jars,¡± the monster said. ¡°They are forged deep within the Abyss. Within the Abyssal cities. Their purpose is clear¨Cto bind. To lock a soul for containment as they were used here. Until the body is dead. The process is cruel, but it is precise.¡±


    Mitch glanced at Mook, his mind racing. ¡°And the Sect? Have you heard of them?¡±


    Sable answered for Mook. ¡°I know them,¡± she said, her voice a whisper.


    Mitch¡¯s head snapped toward Sable. ¡°You know them? How do you know them?¡± He asked surprised.


    Sable¡¯s mismatched eyes met his. Then, to Mitch¡¯s irritation, a small smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.


    ¡°Not now, Mitch. Later,¡± she said evenly, tilting her head slightly. ¡°It¡¯s my turn for answers.¡±


    The smirk lingered, but her eyes burned with something more¡ªa quiet determination that slightly unsettled him. Mitch opened his mouth to press her, but the steady weight of her gaze stopped him.


    Doubt stirred in his gut.


    He was about to speak again when the bond between them pulsed faintly. There was no deceit there, no malice. Only an iron resolve.


    Mitch grumbled under his breath, turning back toward the Warden. Sable crouched beside him.


    ¡°Careful, boy,¡± Galadrith¡¯s voice murmured in his mind. ¡°Do not think you know the ways of a woman. Not even the mighty Galadrith claims to know their depths.¡±


    Mitch suppressed an eye-roll and refocused. He didn¡¯t have the time, or the patience, for games. Answers were what mattered now.


    Her expression mirrored his own¡ªan unspoken understanding. She needed answers as badly as he did. The familiar pull of the Abyssal Debt scratched at his mind, updating in the background.


    Burden: Pay the Abyssal Debt


    The Abyss accepts all forms of payment.


    Status: Incomplete


    Active Debt: -935,830* > 937,162*


    Interest: 666/dayCurrency: Souls, Flesh, Credits


    Do you give up?


    Mitch shoved the thought away, burying it beneath the focus of the moment. An unbidden sense of trust surfaced as he glanced at Sable. She wasn¡¯t just a minion or a First Follower. She was someone who understood the weight of seeking answers in a world that gave none willingly. Someone that mattered to him in ways that he didn¡¯t quite understand.


    He grinded his teeth at the last question of the Burden. Ever present. One affirmation, and he would be gone.


    Do you give up?


    Not now. Not ever,  Mitch thought to himself.


    ¡°Now tell me, Warden,¡± Sable said in her gravelly voice, low and razor-sharp as her wires dug deeper into his flesh. ¡°Where. Is. My. Soul?¡±

 Chapter 40: Into the Core

    Sable¡¯s wires tightened with a hiss, sinking deeper into the Warden¡¯s flesh. His screams howled and mixed with the snarls of the Abyssal creatures held in their cages. Blood sluggishly dripped from the man¡¯s wounds.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know!¡± the Warden gasped through the gag, his eyes bulging with desperation. ¡°I don¡¯t know where your soul is!¡±


    Sable breathed deep as she leaned closer. Her voice cut through the Warden¡¯s cries. ¡°You said Patchling¨Cexcuse me, Scraping souls are somewhere!¡± she snapped. ¡°Where? Where are they?!¡±


    ¡°I lied!¡± the Warden wailed, his voice cracking. ¡°I don¡¯t know! Truly, please!¡±


    Mook¡¯s scholar voice broke the silence that followed. ¡°I have heard rumors,¡± he said, his tone heavy with disdain. ¡°Whispers in the Abyssal cities. A place many feared they would be sent.¡±


    The Warden seized onto Mook¡¯s interjection like a drowning man. ¡°See?! I told you! I don¡¯t know anything concrete!¡± His voice was frantic.


    Mook ignored him, and met Sable¡¯s waiting gaze. ¡°The whispers spoke of a place,¡± he said,¡±A maze. Deep and far away in the Abyss. They call it the Soul Maze. Where the souls of those whose bodies still live are kept. They also keep others there¨Cmaddened, incomplete, broken. They say such souls are driven further into insanity for the most powerful Abyssal creatures¡­ to feed on or¡­ for implantation..¡±


    The words hung in the air like a death bell. Sable staggered back a step. Her face drained of its remaining color, leaving her pale as ash. Her breath hitched, brittle and broken, as she held a hand to her chest.


    Through their bond, Mitch felt it¡ªa ripple that surged into a wave of panic and fear. It cut through the determined resolve she usually carried like armor.


    ¡°Sable¡­¡± Mitch began, but the words felt hollow before they left his mouth. What could he say to make this right?


    Before Mitch could collect his thoughts, Galadrith¡¯s rumble stirred in his mind, his tone dark. ¡°The Soul Maze. That¡¯s where my soul was held¡­until it was forged in that body you fought.¡±


    Mitch froze. You never told me, he thought back.


    ¡°I did not think it mattered,¡± Galadrith replied regretfully. ¡°But now, perhaps it does. Sable is your First Follower. Do not fail her.¡±


    The sword¡¯s words cut deeper than Mitch expected. Galadrith¡¯s monologuing often grated on him, but this time, it struck a nerve. He couldn¡¯t let the Abyss break her like it had broken so many others.


    Not like it¡¯s trying to break me.


    Sable¡¯s wires suddenly tightened viciously, pulling the Warden into a tight curl. She leapt, her fist connecting squarely with the Warden¡¯s jaw. His head snapped back, blood spurting from his nose. She didn¡¯t stop. The next blow struck the same place, harder than before.


    Mitch stepped forward but hesitated, watching as she vented her fury. The Warden cried out between blows, sputtering and coughing as her rage took shape in fists.


    ¡°Sable,¡± Mitch said quietly. When she didn¡¯t stop, he stepped in, catching her arm mid-swing. Her body jerked against his grip, but he held firm. ¡°Enough,¡± he said. ¡°If you kill him now, we lose the chance at more answers. We¡¯ll kill him, but not until we¡¯ve squeezed every last drop of use out of him.¡±


    Sable¡¯s chest heaved as her mismatched eyes glared up at him, burning with fury and despair. Her breathing slowly steadied. She tugged her freshly healed arm free from his grip, her wires loosening slightly but remaining coiled around the Warden like taut snakes.


    Mitch turned to Mook, ¡°The Soul Maze. Where is it?¡±


    The creature¡¯s expression darkened. Mitch realized it was a strange thing to start to understand twisted facial expressions. ¡°It¡¯s deep. Very deep. All I know is that it¡¯s hidden away. Even the many loyal Abyssal creatures fear and revere it. You¡¯d have better luck charging straight through one of the Fronts, where humanity clashes with the Abyss endlessly. The other option? Infiltrate an Abyssal city and descend through the ranks. Both paths are perilous.¡±


    Mitch swore under his breath and glanced back at Sable. Her rage and panic still simmered.


    I will not fail you, Sable.


    Then, he turned back to the Warden. ¡°The jars,¡± he demanded. ¡°Explain them.¡±


    The Warden whimpered, his voice nasally from Sable¡¯s punches. ¡°I had no control over the jars! It¨Cit wasn¡¯t me¡ªit was the Abyssal creatures! The long ones! The ones you killed! They handled the jars. I just¨CI just followed orders!¡±


    Mook nodded solemnly. ¡°He is telling the truth. Only those with appropriate soul Skills can manipulate things such as these jars directly. It seems this man is a mere pawn.¡±


    The Warden nodded frantically, seizing his chance to corroborate. ¡°The creatures¨Cthey were trained for it! Born for it! I just¨Cmanaged the prisoners! That¡¯s all¡± His voice cracked with panic.


    Mitch felt the tightness of his back, the weight of the truth settling on his shoulders. He would have to be enough. For Sable, for himself, and for the damned souls waiting in the Abyss.


    He glanced at Sable one more time.


    Mitch fell silent, the oppressive weight of the moment pressing down. The Abyssal Debt ticked away at the corner of his mind, a gnawing mouth he had grown accustomed to. As he looked at Sable, and with Galadrith pressing against him, the burden shifted.


    The debt was his torment, a cruel tally of the Abyss he had somehow begotten. But now, it wasn¡¯t just about him. If he let Sable fall, or let something happen to Varak, or Hathgar, then what was the point? Why fight against the Abyssal Debt if he was going to lose everyone else who mattered in the process?


    The weight on his shoulders didn¡¯t less¨Cit changed. It became a mantle of duty he could not just shrug off. The Abyss would twist his resolve, tempt him to give up. But if he gave in, then he would be subjecting his new friends to a twisted, horrifying existence.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    What was the point of trying if he let everyone fall around him as well?


    This is no point.


    There was only one option left.


    Don¡¯t let them fall. It must be torn down. Always forward.


    The Abyss wanted him and everyone else to believe it was impossible, that the fight wasn¡¯t worth it. The weight was still there, but now it wasn¡¯t just pushing him forward for himself.


    It was driving him forward for those around him.


    Mitch shifted his focus, tearing his eyes away from Sable¡¯s hunched form. He crouched beside the unconscious gnome. The soul jaw rested near the frail body, its faint glow and thin tendril flickering weakly. A flame on the edge of being snuffed out and delivered to the Abyss in a packaged offering.


    The Abyssal Debt ticked. A dark whisper he could imagine teasing him, insidious and relentless.


    Give up. Collect the souls. Deliver them to a Collector. Fulfill your purpose.


    What then? What would happen if he complied? Would the Abyss release him? No, of course not. It would hollow him out, consume him, and move on to the next victim.


    No, no, no. If the Abyss wanted to take everything from me, it¡¯s going to have to fight until the bitter end.


    Mitch placed his hand on the gnome¡¯s chest and closed his eyes. The warmth of Abyssal Vault stirred, the souls in his core shifting as he reached. He extended his pull towards the jar, reaching for the fractured soul inside. The essence resisted.


    Frustration flared, but he pulled against the soul harder. Nothing.


    ¡°It¡¯s not working,¡± he spat through gritted teeth.


    Mook stepped closer, his claws tapping softly against the stone. ¡°Really, man,¡± he said in an annoyed tone. ¡°The jar must be opened. Without that, the soul is trapped. When I open it, there is a chance the body dies instantly without the proper Skills.¡±


    Mitch hesitated, glancing up at the jagged features of the creature. He had only ever pulled souls out of bodies before they were taken by the Abyss. The soul sword had practically sucked it in itself for Galadrith.


    He gave a curt nod. ¡°Do it.¡±


    Mook carefully twisted the jar open. Light flared as the soul¡¯s tendril flickered, weak and erratic. Mook stepped back, watching Mitch with rapt attention.


    Galadrith¡¯s voice rumbled, ¡°You wield a power many have killed for and been killed by. Do not squander it, Mitchell. Your gift is rare¨Ceven in the Abyss.¡±


    He reached for the fractured soul with Abyssal Vault. The essence quivered, resisting as if it feared being bound again.


    Slowly, painstakingly, the soul began to steady. Its fragments aligned, jagged edges fitting together like shards of broken glass.


    ¡°Come on, get the fuck¨C¡± Mitch growled. With a final, decisive pull, the soul zipped into his core. The gnome¡¯s barely breathing form stilled entirely.


    Settlement Amount: 258(+1) Souls, 338 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 79 Flesh.


    Inside Mitch, the soul flickered weakly, its light faint and unsteady. The effort had left him breathless, but he couldn¡¯t stop now. Not when he was so close.


    Flexing his muscles without realizing, Mitch carefully tugged the soul from his core, and pushed it back into the gnome¡¯s frail body. It felt like pulling a thread through his very being. He pushed it toward the gnome¡¯s frail body, guiding it gently. The tiny essence didn¡¯t resist¡ªit was too weak to fight. Instead, it flowed out of him like a quiet stream, its light flickering as it slipped into the gnome¡¯s sternum.


    Settlement Amount: 257(-1) Souls, 338 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 79 Flesh.


    The connection was seamless. The soul settled eagerly, as though it had been waiting to return. A surge of energy exploded through Mitch in the next instant, a rush of heat and power igniting in his chest.


    Affliction Skill Upgraded


    Abyssal Vault


    Level 5(+1)


    Collect, Siphon, and store Souls, Flesh, and Credits within. A living account for your Abyssal Debt. Meet a Collector to transfer the sum.+ Command Souls for use at your discretion


    Settlement Amount: 257 Souls, 338 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 79 Flesh.


    The gnome¡¯s body shuddered violently, convulsing for a moment before it stilled. Then, slowly, the gnome breathed again¡ªshallow, but rhythmic. The faintest glow of life returned to his face.


    ¡°You did it,¡± Mook said reverently. ¡°I¡­underestimated you. To wield such soul magics against the Abyss¡­¡± He hesitated before adding, his tone measured but insistent, ¡°I want in. Let me join your cohort! A soul mage like you¡­there are certain benefits I¡¯d like to align myself with.¡±


    Mitch turned to Mook, studying him carefully. The creature¡¯s jagged form belied the intelligence behind his glowing eyes, the weight of years spent in the Abyss written in every movement. A being with Mook¡¯s knowledge could prove invaluable. But trust was a fragile thing.


    ¡°You know things,¡± Mitch said finally, his tone neutral, ¡°and I need strong allies. But this isn¡¯t a free ride. If you join me, you¡¯re all in. No hedging, Mook. The Skill to just us is not¡­just a simple agreement. You¡¯d still be willing, knowing that?¡±


    Mook tilted his head, his jagged mouth breaking into a smile. ¡°Of course!¡±


    Mitch nodded, the faintest hint of approval flickering across his face. ¡°Good. First, I need to talk with Varak about a few things. You¡¯d be under her, you understand?¡±


    Mook¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly, but he inclined his head. ¡°Hmmm, I suppose. Speak with the brood mother. But know this¨CI¡¯ve now seen what you can do, and I¡¯ll follow that strength. The Abyss fears those like you. And that¡¯s enough for me.¡±


    Mitch let the words hang between them for a moment before turning back to the Warden. ¡°Talk¡¯s cheap, Mook.¡± he muttered, though the weight of Mook¡¯s declaration lingered in his mind. He walked over and crouched down to meet the man¡¯s eyes.


    ¡°Ready to face the noise Warden? Time to go back and face your lovely subjects,¡± Mitch said coldly. The Warden¡¯s protests died in his throat as Mitch shoved the gag back into place and hoisted him over his shoulder with ease. He turned towards the door back towards the Farm.


    ¡°What about the Abyssal prisoners?¡± Mook asked.


    ¡°Mook, one thing at a time. I¡¯m not a damned miracle worker,¡± Mitch replied, his voice low and tired. Behind his back, Mitch heard Sable pick up the unconscious gnome and follow. Mook carried two empty jars and the bugs brought up the rear.


    ¡°Time to give them a show? Show the prisoners we¡¯re not trying to enslave them?¡± Sable asked, catching up with Mitch and giving him a look.


    ¡°Yeah¡­think they deserve a bit of fun,¡± Mitch answered.


    As Mitch crossed the threshold back toward the Farm, a jagged pulse tore through his bond with Rex. A primal, visceral shock that stopped him in his tracks.


    Images shoved through the tendril. Shadows converging, gibberish screams, and the faint echo of Varak¡¯s brood chirping in panic.


    Rex¡¯s growl came through next, a rumbling that dripped with fury.


    ¡°Sable,¡± he said. ¡°Something¡¯s wrong.¡±


    She turned to him, hearing the edge in his voice. ¡°What? What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    ¡°Rex. He¡¯s calling us back.¡± Mitch¡¯s grip tightened on the Warden, ¡°And it¡¯s bad.¡±


    Mook¡¯s voice cut through the tense air. ¡°Well, that¡¯s promising. If your Shadowshroud is panicked, I¡¯d wager we are running straight into something¡­unpleasant.¡±


    For a moment, they pressed forward more quickly. Mitch adjusted the Warden over his shoulder and broke into a run.


    The bond with Rex flared again, almost a cry. Rex couldn¡¯t speak, but the intention was clear.


    Hurry.


    Rex¡¯s growl slammed through their bond again, sharp and desperate. And in the distance, Mitch heard the first scream.

 Chapter 41: Perspective is Reality

    The air reeked of fear, anger, and blood. Varak¡¯s cracked exoskeleton and skin shimmered under the dim light of the Farm. Her movements were sluggish as her black ichor blood dripped beneath, and she pressed her brood behind her with trembling clawed hands.


    ¡°Brood¡­stay,¡± she rasped, her voice barely audible over the prisoner mob¡¯s jeers. ¡°Hide. Shadowdog protect. Small¡­smelly man help.¡±


    Varak¡¯s small children chirped weakly and huddled together in the shadow of her broken body.


    In front of Varak and her children, Rex stood as a bulwark of snarling darkness. The Shadowshroud¡¯s fur stood straight up, daring the mob to come closer. His growls and snaps cracked through the air, a promise of violence the hound barely contained.


    ¡°Kill the monsters!¡± one prisoner screamed, her face gaunt and hollow from weeks of starvation of torture.


    ¡°That dog¡¯s Abyssal filth too!¡± another yelled.


    Another spell¨Ca blast of searing light¨Cshot towards Rex. He leapt, intercepting it with his form, barking as he took the impact head on. His returning bark was thunderous, sending the front line of freed prisoners stumbling back, clutching their jarred souls like sacred jewels.


    Varak staggered, her broken leg buckling beneath her. The ichor leaked freely from her gashed wounds as she sank to the ground. Her mouth twitched weakly. ¡°Brood¡­safe,¡± she murmured. ¡°Varak¡­broken.¡±


    Another stone flew, striking her on the shoulder and cracking her further.


    ¡°Back ye damned fools!¡± Hathgar roared. His arm gleamed in the dim light as it extended outward. An amalgamation of flesh and black steel. It shifted with a sickening metallic groan, reshaping itself into a pole thrice tall as him. He swept his metal pole arm towards them, sending them back further with his sweep.


    ¡°They¡¯re protecting those monsters!¡± A man yelled, veins bulging in his neck as he hurled another rock. It struck Hathgar¡¯s chest, leaving behind a dull dent on his transformed skin.


    ¡°I said back!¡± Hathgar bellowed. He swung the iron pole in a wide arc, air splitting under its weight. The prisoners pressed forward, their faces twisted in fury and despair.


    One man rushed Hathgar, his fist glowing with the faint light of a weak skill. Hathgar swung his pole low, sweeping the man¡¯s legs out from under him.


    The prisoner hit the ground with a thug, but the mob didn¡¯t falter. Another rushed in, forcing Hathgar to retract the pole into a hammer and slam it down into the man¡¯s skull. The prisoner crumpled, dead on impact.


    ¡°Fools,¡± Hathgar spat. ¡°You¡¯re so bent on rage you¡¯ll get yourselves bloody well killed!¡±


    Behind him, Varak fell further into her injuries. Her distorted hands scraped weakly against the stone as she tried to rise, shielding her brood as her body began to slip away.


    Her brood¡¯s tiny forms pressed tighter against her as another stone sailed past Hathgar and Rex.


    ¡°Kill them! They¡¯re Abyssal creatures! We need to kill them before they kill us!¡±


    ¡°They already ruined us!¡± someone shouted.


    Hathgar¡¯s twisted his wrought iron arm back into its pole form. He looked over his shoulder quickly at Varak, then back to the mob. ¡°Yer too damned stupid to see who your real enemy is,¡± he growled.


    Another spell shot towards them, but Rex leapt to take the blow. The Shadowshroud trembled from the blow.


    Varak started to shake from the lack of ichor. Her clawed hands reached for her brood. ¡°Master¡­help...¡± she whispered, but her voice was barely audible, drowned out by the mob¡¯s bloodlust.


    And then, a voice roared, shaking the very air like a crack of thunder.


    ¡°ENOUGH!¡±


    The mob froze, their eyes snapping toward the source of the voice. The cavern fell silent, save for the drip of ichor from Varak¡¯s wounds and the sharp echoes of Mitch¡¯s boots against the stone floor.


    Mitch stood at the entrance like a nightmare pulled from the Abyss itself. Shirtless, his body a map of scars and hard muscle. The black tendril connected him permanently to Rex. In one hand, he carried a giant serrated blade that glowed red. Over his shoulder hung the Warden, limp and bloodied and gagged and moaning.


    His red eyes burned like embers as he stepped further into the room. The Warden¡¯s body dropped to the ground with a thud and a grunt.


    ¡°Look at yourself,¡± Mitch¡¯s voice was low, each word laced with restrained violence. ¡°Starving. Weak. Attacking the only ones keeping you alive.¡±


    Many shrank back under his red glare. Some clutched their jars tighter, others shifted uneasily. A few glanced at Hathgar and Rex.


    Mitch strode forward, every step deliberate. ¡°You think you¡¯re free?¡± His voice dripped with disdain for their actions. ¡°Your souls are still trapped in those jars, one step away from the Abyss swallowing them and spitting them back into something of its personal design. And you waste what little strength you have throwing rocks at someone who feeds you. Who heals your wounds.¡±


    He pointed Galadrith toward the crowd as he stood in front of Varak, ¡°You want to attack us? Kill us? Do it, then.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re just another monster!¡± a woman shrieked, holding her jar like a talisman. ¡°Sent to torment us again!¡±


    ¡°Your ¡®saviors¡¯ are Abyssal demons!¡± another man yelled, spit flying from his cracked lips. ¡°We won¡¯t be slaves again!¡±


    The mob surged forward, a storm of raw fury and brittle hope, their battered forms driven by a fear too deep to reason with.


    Mitch¡¯s eyes found Varak, who barely clung to consciousness. The jagged cracks in her skim dripped as her brood clung fearfully to her. His jaw tightened as another spell streaked past her, narrowly missing the children.


    ¡°You see this?!¡± Mitch growled. ¡°This is what you¡¯re fighting. Not monsters. Not demons. A mother, who you want to break and kill for protecting her children.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s an Abyssal monster!¡± a prisoner bellowed, stepping forward with a jagged rock held high. ¡°She¡¯ll rip us apart the moment she thinks we trust her! You too!¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    A spell shot past Mitch, grazing his arm and fizzling against the wall behind him.


    Rex, come.


    Rex barked once at the prisoners before his form dissolved. The writhing shadow zipped toward Mitch, coiling around his body. The tendrils solidified into jagged plates of blackened armor. Rex had grown again and now formed gauntlets over his wrists and hands, encasing Mitch¡¯s strong form in a menacing, Abyssal shell.


    ¡°Monster!¡± a prisoner yelled. ¡°You¡¯re just another Abyssal monster!¡±


    ¡°Back, damn ye!¡± Hathgar yelled, swinging his metal arm towards the crowd. ¡°Ye don¡¯t know what ye¡¯re talking aboot!¡±


    Sable burst into the cavern, dragging Mook behind her. The unconscious gnome hung limp in her arms. ¡°Mitch!¡± she yelled, her eyes dancing between Varak and the mob. ¡°They¡¯re going to kill her!¡±


    The mob stirred and glanced at themselves. Rocks and weak spells began to fly again, their aim erratic but dangerous.


    Souls within Mitch¡¯s core roared in unison at the display against Mitch. These people did not recognize his power.


    Mitch¡¯s voice cut through the chaos. ¡°You think I¡¯m a monster? Is this how a monster works?¡±


    He dropped to one knee beside Varak, extending his armored hand toward her dying form. Agony¡¯s Embrace stirred, and a dark tendril of red energy snaked through the Abyssal Binding between him and Varak. The tendril coiled against her wounds, sealing the cracks in her thin exoskeleton with a hiss.


    Black ichor evaporated as her strength returned as she rose to her too many feet. She was once again a scuttling monster with a brood of Abyssal children.


    Settlement Amount: 257 Souls, 338 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 72(-7) Flesh.


    The prisoners gasped, their fury twisting into unease.


    Varak¡¯s voice clicked. ¡°Master¡­fix. Varak will live.¡±


    ¡°You see that?¡± Mitch said, rising to his full height. His gaze swept over the mob. ¡°Does that look like the work of a monster?¡±


    ¡°Lies! You wear the Abyss! You heal the Abyss!¡± a man bellowed, stepping forward. ¡°You¡¯re protecting them because you¡¯re Abyssal filth! A monster who needs to be put down. And those who follow you!¡± He raised his hand, a spell forming between his fingers.


    Galadrith spoke to him, his voice somber. ¡°Perspective is reality, Mitchell. To them, you are no savior. You are a beast, as is Varak. And beasts must be put down. Their reality is warped. To them, you are the Abyss. They cannot fathom your mercy, only your strength. Show them which is greater.¡±


    The spell launched toward Sable, red and destructive. She pivoted, but the blast hit the unconscious gnome in her arms instead.


    The gnome convulsed once, and then stopped breathing.


    ¡°No!¡± Mitch roared. His heart twisted as he reached for the soul with Abyssal Vault. It was too weak. The tendril slipped through his grasp, fading into nothingness. Or back down into the Abyss¡¯s maw. He didn¡¯t know.


    ¡°No,¡± he muttered, his voice trembling with rage. ¡°No!¡±


    Another spell shot toward Varak and her brood, who cowered behind Mitch and Hathgar. He didn¡¯t flinch as it struck him square in the chest, dissipating against Rex¡¯s shadow plate.


    ¡°They¡¯re trying to kill my people,¡± Mitch said, his voice low and dangerous as spells flew and struck him. His gaze turned sharp. ¡°Enough.¡± The word fell like a hammer, shattering the fragile balance in the cavern. Mitch felt the Abyss surge within him, cold and unrelenting.


    His Abyssal Bind extended, yanking the hidden wills from the cracks and shadows like marionettes on tangled strings. A thousand tiny lives bent under his command.


    Minions: Abyssal Mice: 121(+117), Abyssal Fodder: 3, Abyssal Bugs: 812(+389)


    Mitch stepped forward, his blade raised. ¡°You wanted to fight a monster? Fine.¡±


    He knew he was about the snap. The pressure mounting from the Pit, the Farm, and now the escaped prisoners. Mitch tried to shove the rising anger into Devoid.


    It was too full. He had locked far too many emotions into the small drawer of his emotions. All the pain from his past life. The shame, and the anger, and the fear. It was cracking, and his emotions were cracking through.


    He was about to pop.


    Sable¡¯s voice cracked as she shouted, her gaze darting between the chaos and Mitch. ¡°Mitch, please! This isn¡¯t the way!¡± Sable¡¯s voice cracked as her eyes darted between the mob and Varak¡¯s brood. ¡°They¡¯re scared¡ªthey don¡¯t know what they¡¯re doing!¡± Her grip tightened around the lifeless gnome in her arms, her voice trembling. ¡°This isn¡¯t you. You¡¯re better than this. Please, Mitch. If not for them¡­then for me.¡±


    A prisoner charged, desperation in his eyes.


    Mitch tried to squeeze his Devoid box of emotions shut. But it wouldn''t close. Instead, with a crack that he felt within his core, the emotions spilled out.


    Every feeling that Mitch had tried to shove away and hide from himself, and from the world spilled forth. They coalesced into something dark and viscous. An emotion ripped through him. The backlash had finally come. He had locked far too many twisted thoughts away, and the due of Devoid had come.


    It could only be described as icey wrath.


    He didn¡¯t stop himself from moving. Mitch met him with one brutal stroke. Galadrith sliced through the man¡¯s body like ripe fruit. Blood sprayed across the cavern as the man¡¯s torso hit the ground in two thuds. The man¡¯s jarred soul followed, clattering against the ground. Mitch reached for the soul, but he couldn¡¯t reach it behind the glass. It was gone before he knew it.


    Mitch stared at the jar as its faint glow dimmed, the soul slipping away beyond his grasp. He reached out with Abyssal Vault once more, desperate, but the barrier of glass mocked his efforts.


    It was the same every time. No matter how strong he became, the Abyss always took.


    ¡°They¡¯re trying to kill my people,¡± Mitch growled back at Sable. His voice was cold, heavy with the weight of unrelenting fury.


    ¡°Lad! They¡¯re going to overrun us!¡± Hathgar bellowed, swinging his iron-formed arm to deflect an incoming spell. ¡°Acting like damned animals, ye lot! Ye¡¯ve forgotten yer humanity in yer fear!¡±


    Another prisoner lunged for Hathgar, but the dwarf twisted his iron arm into a spiked shield, slamming it into the attacker¡¯s chest. The man crumpled, gasping for air. ¡°Bloody fools!¡± Hathgar roared. ¡°Yer fightin¡¯ the wrong battle, and it¡¯ll be yer last!¡±


    The mob moved as one. Spells crackled and stones flew through the air. Their shouts rose into a deafening roar as they rushed forward, a chaotic horde of jagged rocks, glowing fists, clinking jars that held their souls, and gaunt faces driven by fear and fury.


    ¡°This is where you must learn honor, Mitchell,¡± Galadrith said in his mind. ¡°When they rise against what is yours, they are your enemy. Show them the strength of a man who will not falter before the masses¡¯ demands.¡±


    Mitch¡¯s blade dripped with blood as he turned to face the oncoming wave. The cavern swarmed with movement¡ªbugs and mice rushing towards the prisoners that ran at him in a frenzy, their jarred souls glowing faintly in the dim light. Yet not all of the prisoners charged.


    A few stayed back, clutching their jars, eyes wide with something that bordered on understanding. Mitch caught the gaze of two¡ªa gnome man with a crooked arm and an elf woman watching seriously as she pressed her jar to her chest. They didn¡¯t speak. They only watched as the horde of people threw themselves into the fray.


    Mitch¡¯s voice boomed, his words directed at them as much as the crowd surging toward him. ¡°Look away,¡± he roared, ¡°or watch and learn what happens when you cross me.¡±


    But even as the words left his lips, doubt twisted in his chest. He didn¡¯t want this. These weren¡¯t soldiers, they were broken people. Yet their rage and anguish left no room for reason. Not in a place that was plagued by the Abyss.


    Mitch¡¯s presence loomed like a dark monolith with bleached white hair. Unyielding against the tide of desperation that rushed towards him with their sliced bodies. He would try to save as many souls as possible. But if they were trying to kill him or his small faction, they would learn. And if they wanted a monster, they would face one.


    With Galadrith in hand, Hathgar and Sable by his side, Rex covering him, and his minions waiting for his command, Mitch stepped forward to meet the onslaught of people turned feral.


    The weight of his choices pressed down on him like the Abyss itself. He didn¡¯t want to kill them, not all of them, but if they wouldn¡¯t stop¡­


    He raised his blade, his voice a quiet rumble. ¡°Last chance. Stand down, or face what you¡¯ve made me become.¡±


    The crowd hit him. He let the wrath overcome him.

 Chapter 42: Watched but not learned

    ¡°Where you must go, what you must do, that was but a small taste of what is required to truly fight against the Abyss,¡± Galadrith¡¯s voice pressed. ¡°It knows no mercy. You do not have the luxury to falter.¡±


    Shut up, Mitch responded sharply to the soul sword.


    ¡°Silence will not protect you from the truth,¡± Galadrith continued. ¡°What you had to do¨Cit is only the beginning. The Abyss has no room for doubt, nor patience or hesitation. It will swallow you whole if you allow yourself to linger in weakness.¡±


    He lay beside the fire, its warmth failing to chase the chill rooted deep inside. Rex curled against his body, the menacing beast turned to a snuggling, loyal dog. Mitch¡¯s fingers moved absently, scratching behind the hound¡¯s shadowy ears. The simple motion of petting Rex grounded him, but only barely. His other hand clenched and dug hardened nails into his palm.


    Flashes of broken bodies, cracked jars, and spilled souls tore through his mind like piercing glass. Faces twisted in pain and rage. A torrent of blood.


    They screamed for blood¨Cmy blood, Varaks.


    They¡¯d rushed forward with rocks, spells, and anguish. And he had fought back. Killed them without mercy. Cut through bodies with exactness.


    It was easy. Galadrith had torn through as if they were nothing.


    But they weren¡¯t nothing.


    Each swing had carved into him as deeply as it had into them. He had stomped on the jars they carried, his boots crushing glass. Souls, weak and scared, funneled into him.


    Settlement Amount: 354(+97) Souls, 338 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 253(+181) Flesh.


    What am I becoming? What am I?


    Across the fire, Varak¡¯s distorted hands worked efficiently, skewering fat Abyssal bugs with Sable¡¯s wires and grilling them over the flames. The bugs oozed pungent juices that hissed and popped, their stink clinging to the air. Her brood clustered around her, clicking and chittering and crunching on bugs as they tried to mimic her low, rattling hum.


    One of the children jumped, almost too high, flirting dangerously close to the flames before bounding back into the huddle. The other Abyssal minions waited in the shadows, silent and unspeaking.


    Hathgar sat silently, normal arms resting limply on his lap as he stared into the fire. Mitch had seen his Skill in action. Flesh turned into formed metal to sweep the prisoners.


    Sable leaned against a crooked wall of stone a short distance away. Her arms were crossed, and her expression distant. She wasn¡¯t looking at anything. Not the fire, not Mitch, not even Varak.


    Through their Abyssal Bind, Mitch felt the wall she had erected between them. She had shut him out, her feelings buried behind a barrier he couldn¡¯t breach, even with his bond. He knew she was there. Just¡­locking him out.


    The crackling of fire and Varak¡¯s humming filled the space, but it wasn¡¯t peaceful.


    Another flash from the slaughter of freed prisoners hit him¨Chis boot shattering a jar, the pale glow of a soul sucked into him. His blade slicing through flesh, cutting a swath through the ravenous crowd that didn¡¯t understand who they attacked. The sound of glass hitting the floor a moment after their holder. Reaching for trapped souls behind unbroken jars he couldn¡¯t get to.


    Clink. Clink.


    The sound wasn¡¯t a memory.


    Mook shuffled quietly around the fire, cradling and then setting the remaining intact jars like sacred relics. His claws deliberately added each of them into a neat collection. His hunched, Abyssal form cast unsettling shadows as he worked.


    Mitch glanced at the gnome man and elf woman that had stood back and watched during his stand. They rested at their own fire, a ways away from him, in the cavern. The gnome¡¯s crooked arm rested backward, fingers twitching towards his jar. The elf woman sat motionless, eyes unblinking as they watched Varak and Mook work. Her own jar rested untouched infront of her. Occasionally, one of Varak¡¯s children would scurry over and try to offer them a burnt bug.


    His gaze shifted to the Warden, who lay crumpled on the ground. Bound and gagged and whimpers barely audible over the crackle and light activity. Occasionally, the Warden would send a frantic stare at Mitch, waiting for what was to come.


    I¡¯ll deal with you in a bit.


    He felt the stares. Watching and waiting for him to address them.


    ¡°Forty three jars,¡± Mook murmured. ¡°All functional¡­Do you want them, Mitchell?¡±


    I missed at least forty three souls. Delivered into the Abyss.


    Mitch said nothing. Mook didn¡¯t push, and retreated to search the cavern for more jars.


    ¡°It¡¯s time to talk, lad,¡± Hathgar said, his voice rough and low. ¡°What in the Stars was that? What¡¯s going on? Those people attacked ye¡¯, but¡­ye¡¯ fight like a bloody demon.¡± He gestured loosely at the fire as if the answers might come from its embers. ¡°Skills like that, they don¡¯t just come from nowhere.¡±


    Mitch didn¡¯t look at him, keeping his eyes firmly on the flames. His fingers stilled on Rex¡¯s fur.


    ¡°What do you want me to say?¡± Mitch muttered, his voice heavy. ¡°That I had no choice? That I did what I had to do?¡±If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    ¡°Aye,¡± Hathgar replied, sharper now. ¡°But don¡¯t insult me by pretendin¡¯ it was just that. I¡¯ve seen what choice looks like. What ye¡¯ did¡­that wasn¡¯t just survival. That was somethin¡¯ else.¡± He gestured to his own arms, where he showed Mitch the wrought Abyssal iron gleaming faintly under his skin. ¡°I know what torment does to a man, how it remakes ye¡¯, but this¡ªno bloody way. Yer too strong, too fast. That Shadowshroud of yers is damn near a monster on its own, and those Skills of yers...they don¡¯t belong to someone who¡¯s been fightin¡¯ for a month. Cut them down like they were nothing.¡±


    Mitch squeezed Rex¡¯s fur. ¡°They weren¡¯t nothing,¡± he snapped, his voice rising. ¡°I didn¡¯t want to¡ª¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t want to?¡± Hathgar cut him off, his words biting. ¡°Looked like ye¡¯ wanted it to me. The way ye¡¯ moved, the way ye¡¯ fought¡­ye¡¯ weren¡¯t just defendin¡¯. Aye, they attacked you, but that was....Bah¡­Ye¡¯ were cuttin¡¯ ¡®em down like they didn¡¯t matter.¡±


    Mitch shot to his feet, the movement jarring Rex, who let out a startled bark. ¡°Don¡¯t you dare,¡± he hissed. ¡°They attacked Sable, you, me, Varak. They came at me! Don¡¯t you fucking dare.¡±


    Hathgar stood as well, his smaller frame unyielding in the face of Mitch¡¯s anger. ¡°Aye, I¡¯ll dare,¡± he growled. ¡°What are ye¡¯ gonna do? Kill me too? Someone ye¡¯ called a brother? Go ahead, lad, if ye¡¯ think that¡¯s the answer.¡±


    Mitch faltered, his breath coming in uneven bursts. Rex pressed against his leg.


    Hathgar¡¯s voice softened, ¡°I¡¯m on yer side, Mitch. I¡¯ve told ye, I¡¯ve got your fookin¡¯ back, whatever it is that¡¯s goin¡¯ on. We all got our reasons to do what we do. Don¡¯t I know I got some superstitious thoughts. Bloody hate the Abyss, cept for Rex and Varak. But yer keeping secrets, and they¡¯re gonna drown ye¡¯ if ye¡¯ bloody let em. What¡¯s the Abyss done to ye? What¡¯s it made ye¡¯? I told ye¡¯ it does this, ain¡¯t I?¡±


    Before Mitch could respond, Sable¡¯s voice cut through. ¡°He¡¯s right.¡± She had pushed off the wall, her mismatched eyes burning with a mix of anger and something else. Something raw and uncertain.


    Her words rushed out. ¡°You made me your Follower, Mitch. Do you even know what that means? Because I don¡¯t. Do you have any idea what it feels like to be bound to someone who¡¯s keeping you at arm¡¯s length? You can¡¯t tell me nothing, when you know what you do about me. You expect me to follow you? To trust you?¡± She stopped herself. ¡°I can feel it, Mitch. The Abyssal Bind. You¡¯ve tied me to you, and I don¡¯t even know where my soul is or what I¡¯m following.¡±


    Mitch looked away into the fire, unable to meet her eyes. Rex whimpered again. Mitch subconsciously pet him for comfort.


    Galadrith¡¯s voice rumbled softly in his mind. ¡°They question because they see a man. A man wielding power that scars the soul. Power meant to break and bind. They fear what they do not understand. As do you.¡±


    Shut up! You told me to attack! He responded mentally.


    ¡°And I was correct,¡± Galadrith replied. ¡°Do not mistake reluctance for righteousness. They would have torn you and your people apart. Now, this will become our test,¡± his voice flickered in a laugh. ¡°To wild power with grace. Or destroy with abandon. The Abyss will consume either path, but only one leaves a man intact. I was once a man, and I was honorable. Perhaps I have something to learn as well.¡±


    Mitch exhaled sharply, banishing Galadrith¡¯s words to the back of his mind. He turned back towards Sable and Hathgar. All the while, Mook listened in rapt, silent attention while Varak chomped on bugs. The elf and gnome watched the scene with fear written in their eyes from further down the cavern.


    Mitch¡¯s voice finally broke the tense silence.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t ask for this,¡± he said, tone trembling with the weight of his frustration.


    Sable¡¯s eyes narrowed as she stepped closer to him. ¡°And yet, here you are. With us. With all this power. With¡­the debt.¡±


    Hathgar blinked, his brows furrowing. He tilted his head slightly. ¡°Debt? What bloody debt?¡±


    Mitch¡¯s shoulder stiffened as he fought the instinct to lash out. To push them away. As he always did when anyone got too close.


    ¡°I¡¯m not what you think I am.¡±


    Sable¡¯s voice rose. ¡°Then what are you? What is going on?¡± she demanded. ¡°What does that mean, Mitch?¡±


    ¡°What we think you are?¡± Hathgar echoed. ¡°Lad, what in the bloody Stars does that mean?¡±


    Memories tore through his mind. Being murdered on a piss covered tile floor, the whisper of the Abyss, the Grimmers he stomped, the people he had just killed, the gnawing question etched into his Burden.


    Do you give up?


    It taunted him. He could say yes. End this current nightmare in favor of another.


    Rex pulled closer, his strong shadowy form radiating a warmth stronger than the fire. A strange calmness flowed through their bond, as though the creature told him to hold steady.


    Galadrith¡¯s voice cut through, curious and ancient. ¡°Truth is a sharp edge, wielded wisely or turned against the wielder. Speak now, Mitchell, not for them, but for the path you must carve. I too would see where this road leads.¡±


    Mitch exhaled shakily. ¡°You won¡¯t understand,¡± he said aloud.


    Hatghar scoffed, stepping closer. ¡°Try me, lad. I¡¯m here. I can handle it. Bloody well handled the blasted Pod. She,¡± He jerked a thumb in Sable¡¯s direction. ¡°Is a fookin¡¯ Patchling. Ye¡¯ got any idea what that¡¯s like? Where her soul is kept? What the tales tell?¡±


    Sable¡¯s gaze remained sharp, but Mitch felt their bond shift. The wall she¡¯d built between them cracked. Letting him back in.


    Mitch glanced toward the gnome and elf. They waited, eyes locked onto their conversation. Mitch didn¡¯t fear them hearing the conversation. Not when he knew he could deal with them if it went poorly. The thought made him shiver.


    My mind goes to violence right away.¡°Master strong. In¡­two way. Not just¡­big. See? Brood safe. Is¡­ok. That is good. Not all¡­bad.¡± Her tone was casual and dismissive, as though the entire conversation was unnecessary. She crunched on another bug with her mutated mouth.


    Mook tilted his head, his strange eyes gleaming with curiosity. ¡°Ah,¡± he murmured reverently. ¡°A Traveler. It explains¡­everything.¡± His tone held a sharp edge, like a scalpel peeling away flesh to reveal the truth beneath. ¡°The signs were there from the start. Obvious, even.¡±


    The word hit like a hammer. Mitch¡¯s shoulder¡¯s stiffened, and the fire seemed to crackle louder in the ensuing silence.


    Hathgar¡¯s eyes widened. Sable¡¯s breath caught. They both took a step back. Even Varak stopped her crunching.


    Hathgar¡¯s voice broke the silence like a crack of thunder.. ¡°A Traveler?¡± Then louder, shaking the air. ¡°A bloody fookin¡¯ Traveler?!¡±


    The gnome and elf flinched audibly, their jars trembling in their hands. They huddled closer to their fire, as if it could protect them.


    Mitch said nothing as he met their eyes. The silence that followed swallowed everything.

 Chapter 43: Creamed Cheese, Large Chests, Little Feet

    ¡°Stars, a Traveler pushed into a bloody barback, and given an impossible quest,¡± Hathgar pinched the bridge of his nose before continuing. ¡°I need an ale, Hells, even a glass a¡¯ wine would do. With Affliction Skills no less? Ain¡¯t never heard of any that gotta deal with that!¡±


    Overall, they had taken his tale of waking inside Mitch on its face. Travelers were apparently common in the world Abythra. Souls stolen from other planes and thrust into new lives were rare, but not unheard of. On the brutal planet Mitch learned he inhabited, Travelers either adapted as he had, or more commonly, perished exceedingly fast.


    Huh.


    Getting it off his chest felt like coming up for fresh air. It had been difficult, terrifying even to speak the truth, but it was a surprisingly quick revelation. Like ripping off a too-dried bandage.


    Varak passed Mook a cooked Abyssal Bug, and the creature finished it in one bite before he spoke. ¡°Well, yes. That is new. I never thought such a thing was possible, but in the realm of Skills, all things are. At least according to the Archivists I studied under. Religious nuts.¡±


    Mook tapped his claws fingers together thoughtfully before reaching for another sizzling bug. ¡°The Archivists always said the true knowledge lies hidden. The holdouts¨CSects and the¡­fading races, sorry Hathgar, and you, Leonard¨Ccling to what little remains. The initial wars left only crumbs of Skill knowledge. What we learn through bumbling grandmothers and superstitious folk of The Mother,¡± Mook brazenly air-quoted with his claws before continuing, ¡°is surely incorrect. If there is such a being, surely she would not allow the world to be plagued by the Abyss as it is.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t ever say that about Her.¡± Sable¡¯s voice rang out at Mook.


    Mitch impulsively took a small bite of the cooked Bug, stroking Rex¡¯s muscled back as he listened to their conversation. It was delicious, like cream cheese and starchy crackers. Just a lot crunchier.


    The gnome, Leonard, and the elf, Patty, huddled around the fire. Mitch had waved them over, exhausted from playing the scary enforcer. They lounged comfortably, and had thanked him for what he had done. Now they crunched on Bugs Varak cooked with ravenous hunger, while their jarred souls waited.


    One big happy family. Right after I killed those people, too. Is Abythra that violent? Are people here used to this? Horrible. Well, not all happy.


    Mook turned to her. ¡°A Patchling believer? You are joking, correct?¡± His voice dripped with shock and condemnation. ¡°Your fabled savior allows your soul to be tormenting endlessly upon death, or in your case, while you remain living and thinking. Until it is cast to nothingness?¡±


    Sable¡¯s mismatched eyes glared against the fire. ¡°It¡¯s not for you to mock, Mook. The Mother grants all gifts and watches over the balance of things. Rex is proof alone! There¡¯s a purpose behind all of this, there always is. The Abyss, the struggles¡­Mitch himself.¡± Her gaze shifted to Mitch, intense and unrelenting. Filled with something that resembled awe and almost hungry. ¡°You don¡¯t see it, do you, Mitch? This has to mean something! I¡¯m searching for my soul, and then you come along?¡±


    ¡°Wonderful, while it may mean something, let¡¯s not pretend that he is a deity, Sable. Don¡¯t be ridiculous,¡± Mook snapped back, but she ignored the creature.


    Mitch shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny. ¡°Sable I¡­I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m doing. I don¡¯t know what I am, what to do, nothing. I told you, my race is half-unknown. All I want to do is fight against the Abyss.¡±


    Sable¡¯s lips curled into a dark, humorless smile. ¡°Exactly. Unknown. That means possibility. You said it yourself to me. You¡¯re you.¡±


    Leonard, the gnome with a sharp jaw, dark hair that somehow still looked good, and a ready smile clapped his hands together, which was an accomplishment with one of them being healed incorrectly. It unnerved Mitch, to see the man¡¯s arm bent at the forearm, yet still usable. ¡°Marvelous! A noble quest! Travelers, believers, and¨C¡± He cast a sideways glance at Patty, the elf. ¡°¨Cstoic maidens to be saved! Glorious!¡±


    ¡°Say ¡®maidens¡¯ one more time,¡± Patty, the green haired, lithe elf said flatly, her atrophied muscles tensing as if preparing to snap Leonard in two. ¡°And I¡¯ll bind you into a jar myself.¡±


    ¡°Charming!¡± Leonard quipped, grin not faltering.


    Mitch quite liked the gnome. While initially terrified of Mitch, the man had come out of his shell almost immediately once introduced and with the promise of survival.


    Patty on the other hand had clearly been in the pod longer. Her body was skinnier, even though it appeared she naturally carried muscles. She had more wounds that had to be closed by Varak, and she ate with reckless abandon. Sucking every bit of the bugs out.


    He read the gnome¡¯s body language, as well as Patty¡¯s. Leonard was trying his best, and Patty, knowingly or unknowingly, slowly came out from behind her walls from the gnome¡¯s incessant antics.


    Hathgar grunted, chomping on an Abyssal Bug himself when Varak¡¯s children brought him one. ¡°Aye, well, Mitch. Ye¡¯ ain¡¯t doing this alone. I¡¯m with ye¡¯. Whatever it is ye¡¯ do. Someone¡¯s got to be the brains a¡¯ this operation,¡± he spit out a small claw before continuing. ¡°Ain¡¯t goin¡¯ back to Stonehollow, not anytime soon, not with this¡­¡± He held up his arm, where black iron could be seen just beneath his skin in the firelight. ¡°But don¡¯t get no funny ideas. I ain¡¯t gonna be no bound minion a¡¯ yers. Ye¡¯ ain¡¯t getting in this head a¡¯ mine.¡±


    Galadrith¡¯s voice curled through Mitch¡¯s mind like smoke. ¡°This is what we require, Mitchell. Allies. Now they are barely powerful. But with the right influence and direction¡­yes¡­they are welcome additions. Revenge is sweeter than wine, yes. But loyalty like this¡­sweeter still.¡±The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    It warmed his cold heart to hear Hathgar was willing to stick by him. Rex huffed and snatched another Bug out of the air from Varak¡¯s toss. Her children squealed. The souls within his core sat still and relaxed. It felt nice.


    Leonard¡¯s grin returned. ¡°A mighty quest! Count me in, if you¡¯ll have me! I¡¯ve been looking for something like this. Can¡¯t right follow the gnomish way of tinkering, not when I can¡¯t squeeze tools right,¡± he waved his broken but healed arm for all to behold. ¡°A noble gnome allied with another great race, like a dwarf!¡± he nudged Hatghar theatrically. ¡°And of course, the women! Muscled maidens with large chests and little feet! The perfect combination! Ah, the joy of it.¡±


    Sable stared at the gnome open mouthed. Mitch couldn¡¯t help but notice Patty¡¯s smirk as she picked at her torn clothes.


    Going to have to figure that out.


    ¡°Dwarves don¡¯t ain¡¯t stab anyone in their back like gnomes do,¡± Hathgar growled.¡±But if ye¡¯ don¡¯t shut yer yap, I might make an exception.¡±


    ¡°Master from¡­other world,¡± Varak finally spoke, after listening the entire while. Her tone was calm and reflective. Her brood crawled over Rex¡¯s back, the massive beast unbothered by their playful tugging of his Abyssal fur. ¡°Hmmm. Other world. But save childs. See me as me. Hmm¡­Is ok. Gnome loud¡­maybe tasty. We here. We help,¡± she finished. The other Abyssal minions, the less intelligent ones, hung in the dark recesses of the cave. But Mitch felt their loyalty as strongly, if not stronger, than he felt Varak¡¯s. They were his.


    It was as good as anything to Mitch. Varak had proven to him that Abyssal creatures could be more than just monsters to destroy. More than terrors that hunted him. Like the Collectors and the frothing nightmares he had already overcome.


    Her unwavering dedication to him and her children want to rush down to wherever the heart of the Abyss lay, and fight it right then. For her, for himself, for Sable. For what it had done to the people that had accepted his story and calmed his torn mind.


    They had brought him back from the brink without even knowing it. Just from their acceptance.


    Mook¡¯s clicked his claws together as he cleared his throat. ¡°This is the study of a lifetime. I have zero intention of leaving, Mitch. A Traveler, a Debt tied to a new classification of Abyssal actors no less¡­and the mystery of your Skills capabilities. Of your Followers changes,¡± he glanced at Sable. ¡°Fascinating.¡±


    Patty leaned back, her arms crossed over her chest. ¡°I¡¯ll stick with you¨Cfor now. Not like I know how to get out of here. But no one is bonding with me, or whatever Skill you said you have. No one will ever bind me again.¡±


    Mitch turned and met Sable¡¯s eyes. She looked at him seriously, and through their bond, Mitch felt the strength of her trust.


    He raised a hand, signaling for quiet as he turned to Leonard and Patty. ¡°Do you have Skills? Anything useful? I don¡¯t need to use my Abyssal Bind Skill on you, but we are still stuck in the Abyss.¡±


    Leonard puffed up, his expression a cocktail of pride and indignation. ¡°Useful!? Useful? I¡¯ll have you know, I have skills in Plants! I can summon mighty¡­plants! Grow them! Nurture them, of course,¡± he wagged his eyebrows. ¡°I am a caring man. It is only appropriate for one imbued with the language and natural inclination of love. Stars, I can even turn liquids into wine and ale! Of course, it¡¯s more of an Alchemical Skill, as are all my Skills, but, a man must eat,¡± he glanced at Patty. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t you agree?¡±


    ¡°WELL WHY DIDN¡¯T YE BLOODY SAY SO!?¡± Hathgar bellowed, cutting him off. ¡°Welcome, lad! A gnome with liquor abilities! ¡®Bout time ye¡¯ said something worth keepin¡¯ ye¡¯ round for!¡±


    Patty leaned back, arms crossed over her frail, but broad chest. ¡°Rock magic,¡± she said, her tone blunt and unamused. ¡°I break rocks. I throw rocks. I can mold rocks,¡± she paused, pushing the stone floor around like it was mud before she allowed it to solidify again. ¡°Sometimes, I make rocks hit things harder. That useful enough for you?¡± Her gaze slid to Leonard, unimpressed. ¡°Unlike this twig, I don¡¯t deal with plants or Alchemy.¡±


    Leonard straightened, puffing out his chest indignantly. ¡°Twig? Madam, I am a man of refinement. Subtlety! A purveyor of beauty! Perhaps a bug for you to squash and sit on if you would ever be so¨C¡±


    ¡°Subtlety?¡± Patty snorted, cutting him off. ¡°Your mouth¡¯s loud enough to shake the whole damn cavern. Subtly, my ass.¡±


    The conversation echoed through the open, stagnant air. The Abyssal Debt felt lighter for the first time. Manageable. Almost¡­bareable. With Rex by his side, and the group huddled together around the fire, Mitch felt¡­calm.


    Faint and distant, the pulse towards the back of the cavern, where shadowed caves waited, pulled him. Alongside the pull, the key directed him in that direction. He had to know what was there.


    Leonard¡¯s voice shattered the moment of clarity. ¡°Before we continue our adventure, could we, ah, please put my soul back where it belongs?¡± He gestured dramatically, his crooked arm twisting in a way that made Mitch wince. ¡°While I suspect certain women with dark intentions might enjoy my current state¨C¡± He cast a playful wink at Patty. ¡°I¡¯d much prefer to have all of me, apologies Sable, inside.¡±


    Mitch pinched the bridge of his nose while Patty snorted. Sable thankfully ignored the comment. ¡°Stars, help me, yes.¡± he muttered, picking up on the epitaph from his friends.


    Leonard gestured toward the Warden, bound and gagged and lying on the wet ground away from them. ¡°Speaking of putting things back where they belong, what about him?¡± He waved towards the man. ¡°Displaced. Shall we deliver him back home? Perhaps a very uncomfortable grave?¡±


    Patty snorted, leaning into the rock floor with comfort as it molded around her. ¡°What¡¯s the plan? Keep him around for polite conversation and bug tea?¡±


    Rex huffed against Mitch¡¯s leg. He absently scratched the hound¡¯s ears. ¡°Oh, we¡¯ll deal with him,¡± he said. ¡°Do you want to watch?¡±


    ¡°Stars, please.¡± Hathgar, Patty and Leonard answered together.


    The group settled into uneasy camaraderie. Varak¡¯s brood chittered over Rex, Sable argued with Mook and cast Mitch hopeful glances, Hathgar and Leonard yapped about liquor, Patty relaxed, Varak cooked Bugs, Galadrith hummed, and Rex pretended to slumber. The other minions waited in the dark.


    Then it came again.


    The pulse.


    Stronger this time.


    Mitch¡¯s head snapped toward the back of the cavern. He felt it¨Csomething waited in the dark. The key pulled him, as did the pulse.


    ¡°Something is there. Waiting,¡± Mitch said, his voice low.


    ¡°Aye, lad. But we¡¯ll deal with it in a bloody moment. Still got to deal with him,¡± Hathgar replied, head nodding towards the Warden and clapping Rex on the ass, before going back to arguing with Leonard about how he must be able to turn the available water that pooled in puddles into ale.


    Mitch stood, wiping his filthy hands on his pants as Rex stirred and looked up at him. Mitch met Sable¡¯s eye and nodded. ¡°Come on,¡± he told her. ¡°Let¡¯s finish this.¡±


    He turned and began walking towards the Warden.


    Varak perked up from her cooking and practically danced towards Mitch. ¡°Time for¡­ Pickled egg!¡±

 Chapter 44: Pickled Egg

    The Warden lay on the wet and hard cavern floor. A tied mess of flesh and wheezing through a dirty gag. Blood slicked his swollen and chewed face, streaking down amongst his plaid, sweaty face. Sable¡¯s wires held him tight in a curled position.


    The group surrounded him. They were silent as they stared at the man who had caused so much torment in the mostly empty cavern. A knife from the Grimlace collection lay a few feet from the Warden, dotted with the drug. Mitch kicked it away.


    Varak shifted on her many legs, watching with her brood on her back. She tore another Abyssal bug in half, and tossed it into her mouth. She crunched on the bug like a snack and passed the remaining bug to her brood to nibble on. ¡°Time for pickled egg,¡± she murmured gleefully.


    Mook skittered closer, heavy claws clutching an empty jar. The lid was still tight. To the untrained eye, it looked like just another black glass jar. They all knew it served far more nefarious purposes.


    ¡°He deserves worse, you know,¡± Hathgar grumbled with his arms crossed. His face was a simmering mask of anger. ¡°Just like that?¡±


    Sable stood stiffly, watching the Warden without pity. ¡°Already got the answers we need,¡± she said. ¡°We¡¯re not the Abyss. We¡¯re not here to mindlessly torment.¡±


    Patty was less composed. Her green hair clung to her face from sweat. She stood above the Warden with fists clenched around her jar, breathing uneven. ¡°This bastard. Broke us. Tortured us. Watching us, smiling and like it was fun.¡± Her voice cracked. ¡°Kill him, he doesn¡¯t deserve another second.¡±


    Leonard, of course, was grinning. He carried his own jar by tucking it under his broken but healed arm. ¡°Shall we? I mean really, Mitch, can we drag it out just a bit? For science.¡± he wiggled his eyebrows. ¡°I¡¯d love to deliver some light justice to this man. For a few hours. Or days. Yes, days preferably.¡±


    Mitch watched the Warden, who stirred and coughed raggedly past his gag.


    Rex stood at Mitch¡¯s side as a shadowy mass of menace. He too, watched the Warden curiously.


    Stepping forward, boots splashing in the filth pooling around the Warden¡¯s body, he yanked his head up to meet his eyes. The Warden groaned out a gurgle.


    He ripped the gag from the Warden¡¯s mouth. The Warden sputtered, spitting blood and saliva onto the ground.


    ¡°Anything to say?¡± Mitch asked.


    The Warden coughed again, his cracked lips trembling as he forced out a word. ¡°Please¡­¡±


    ¡°Please?¡± Leonard interrupted. ¡°This is what you say? I mean, really?¡±


    ¡°Leonard, shut up. We¡¯re not dragging this out. He doesn¡¯t deserve it.¡± Patty scolded him.


    Hathgar stepped forward, iron arm flexing as if preparing to strike the man down. ¡°Aye, he¡¯s not worth the effort. But I say let him crawl like the worm he is.¡±


    Sable¡¯s voice sliced through. ¡°Stop,¡± she said, glaring at the group. ¡°Enough. I know I¡¯d like to know how we eventually get out of here, and maybe he can tell us. If not, then you can have your fun, Leonard.¡±


    Varak, unbothered by the tension, perked up. ¡°I know! Up. Is easy. Up air¡­easy to find.¡± She glanced back at her brook, who nodded in unison, small bodies chittering in agreement.


    ¡°She is right, you know,¡± Mook added. ¡°I can practically smell where the Abyss is, and where it is not.¡±


    Mitch turned back to the Warden. ¡°That settles that.¡±


    The Warden¡¯s head lolled forward. His breath rattled like a broken machine, and his voice was hoarse when he spoke again.


    ¡°Please¡­¡± He coughed out. ¡°You don¡¯t understand. The Abyss¡­it calls. I had no choice!¡±


    Mitch¡¯s grip tightened on the man¡¯s collar. ¡°No choice?¡± His voice was cold. ¡°Everyone¡¯s got a choice. You made yours. You tortured people. Used them. For what? Scraps of power from the Abyss?¡±The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    The Warden¡¯s cracked lips twisted into a bitter smile. ¡°You think you¡¯re different, Traveler? That debt¨Clook at it! How heavy it must feel. What did you do? What terrible thing tied you to the Abyss?¡±


    Mitch¡¯s eyes burned from the man¡¯s words. It gave the Warden strength to continue. ¡°Think you¡¯re righteous? You¡¯re just a bigger piece of this than I am. The Abyss needs up. Tools like me and you. You mock yourself if you think you¡¯re all that different.¡±


    Hathgar stepped forward, his hand twisting into an iron claw. His voice was rough. ¡°Honor,¡± he spat. ¡°That¡¯s what you don¡¯t get, Warden. A man doesn¡¯t turn on people. Honorable people won¡¯t crawl for scraps while stepping on others. Less than filth, is what ye¡¯ are.¡±


    Mook silently stepped closer with the jar in his hand. The seal glimmered as if sensing it was about to be used. ¡°It¡¯s ready, Mitch.¡±


    The Warden¡¯s weak smile faltered as he glanced at the jar. His eyes widened in fear. ¡°No¡­no!¡± He struggled against the wires binding him. Too weak to break free. ¡°Don¡¯t¨Cdon¡¯t do this! Please! The Abyss¨Cit will take me, I¨C¡±


    ¡°You think you¡¯re going down to the Abyss?¡± Mitch¡¯s voice interrupted him.


    Mook unsealed the jar behind him.


    The Warden¡¯s face twisted in pure terror. ¡°No, no! Not the jar!¡±


    Galadrith spoke for the first time. ¡°Do not linger on his words. You are more than this vile creature. We do not kill for scraps of power, for our purpose is greater than he can possibly imagine. Growth comes from leaving the taunts of the weak. He is already lost.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Mitch told the Warden. ¡°You¡¯re staying with us. Who knows for how long or what for.¡±


    Mitch¡¯s arm moved in a clean, brutal arc. Galadrith sliced through flesh, bone, and sinew effortlessly. The Warden¡¯s head hit the ground with a hollow thud, his mouth frozen mid-scream. Blood sprayed in a crimson arc out of the neck stump as the man¡¯s body collapsed before them.


    The Warden was finally dead. The souls within his core thrummed in pleasure. Why? Mitch couldn¡¯t say. Many of them were prisoners he had killed.


    Better than the Abyss. I guess they realize that now.


    A cold sense of triumph filled Mitch. He and Sable had defeated the Warden in his vile game, and by extension, had claimed a victory over the Abyss.


    His hand extended toward the headless corpse.


    He tugged out the soul, just as the Warden had pulled the souls from him before. He couldn¡¯t save them all, not from the ring, not from the battle with the prisoners. It still filled him with a feeling of power to claim the man¡¯s essence.


    It sputtered violently out of the Warden¡¯s body, a dark malformed red that twisted in fury as it emerged in its tendril.


    Mitch let the Warden¡¯s soul hang in the air for the group to see for a heartbeat.


    ¡°Trap. Pickle egg. Marinate. Mmmm,¡± Varak said as she crunched on a bug. Her children danced.


    Mook unfastened the jar, and Mitch directed it towards it. As soon as the soul entered the glass enclosure, Mook snapped the jar shut. The Warden¡¯s soul was trapped within.


    ¡°Filthy, eh?¡± Hathgar muttered, glaring at the jar as if it might break. ¡°Least it¡¯s contained. What¡¯re ye going to do with it?¡±


    ¡°Think on it. I¡¯m sure Mook or someone else will find a use,¡± Mitch replied.


    The cavern fell silent, save for the faint hum of the sealed jar and the distant drip of water. Mitch wiped Galadrith with a filthy scrap of cloth. It had been recovered from the now dead prisoner¡¯s clothing.


    ¡°Well,¡± Hathgar said, voice gruff and surprisingly light. ¡°That was fun, honestly. Now, what about this bloody pull yer feelin¡¯, lad?¡±


    Mitch straightened. The Warden was dealt with. He felt strange at the man¡¯s death. Triumphant. But also lacking. He had grown exponentially in power from the man¡¯s cruel games. He had saved Hathgar, defeated enemies, grown Rex, and even begotten Galadrith. Not to mention the others.


    He needed a new enemy. The Abyss wasn¡¯t going to make it easy on him. He was sure of that.


    ¡°We move,¡± he said, his voice resolute. ¡°The Abyss isn¡¯t done with us yet.¡±


    Sable stepped to his side. ¡°None of us are done yet.¡±


    The group walked toward the fire. It was time to plan. Rex padded alongside Mitch. He swore the Shadowshroud was smiling at him.


    Behind them, the Warden¡¯s severed head stared blankly into the voice. Mitch did not want to consume the man''s flesh for his own gain.


    Mook carried the jar in his hands carefully, staring at the red soul within.


    ¡°Uh¡­hello?¡± Leonard asked as he plopped himself down and shook his jar at Mitch. ¡°A little help, please?¡±


    ¡°Seriously, I actually agree with Leonard on this,¡± Patty said as she plonked herself next to the gnome. ¡°I would like my soul in my body now.¡±


    Mitch smiled and walked towards them.

 Chapter 45: Slop

    ¡°I can feel it. The pull. Like you¡¯re saying, Mitch,¡± Sable began, her mismatched eyes stayed firmly forward as they followed the path at the back of the cavern. ¡°The Abyssal Bind¡­it¡¯s stronger now. Like it¡¯s digging. It¡¯s unsettling¡±


    Mitch led the way towards the beacon he felt, Rex covering his body in his blackened armor form. The key around his neck from Mathilda¡¯s pulled him in the direction as well. It didn¡¯t necessarily feel dangerous, just different. It called him out. Something waited in the dark for him to find. ¡°Unsettling? You don¡¯t think making Leonard a Follower is unsettling? Mook as a minion, too.¡±


    Minions: Abyssal Fodder: 4, Abyssal Bugs: 2089(+1749), Mook


    Followers: Sable (First Follower), Leonardo XI


    Guardians of Will: Varak


    ¡°I told you, it all makes sense. This is how we fight against the Abyss. It¡¯s how you fight it, it¡¯s how I find my soul. By using Its powers against it. I¡¯ve already gotten Fracture, who knows¨CI think from the Bind¡­who knows what else will come?¡± Sable added, sending a chunk of wall splintering with her Skill.


    Leonard, who had been keeping pace just behind Sable, clapped his hands together loudly and dramatically, interrupting the discussion. He did not carry the soul jar any longer. Neither did Patty. ¡°Loyalty! I¡¯ve always been quite noble in my allegiances. Steadfast, even, ready to aid all those who require it,¡± he glanced at Patty, ¡°Especially stoic elves¨C¡±


    ¡°Finish that sentence and I¡¯ll turn you into a footstool, Lenny,¡± Patty growled, her tone dangerous.


    Leonard held his hands up in mock surrender, his crooked arm bending unnervingly. ¡°Ah! Perish the thought. That sounds horrible.¡±


    ¡°Bloody hell, can ye¡¯ shut up, Leonard? Fer a moment. Stars. We¡¯re walking through the Abyss, going towards a strange ping Mitch feels in his bloody balls, in a broken prison, and Patty is more concerned with how she can hide yer body without us noticing. Shut it. Lest Mitch sends ye back te¡¯ feed the Abyssal Monsters bugs with Varak and the other minions,¡± Hathgar bemoaned, bringing up the rear.


    As the cavern grew more damp and stuffy with the scent of rot, Mitch felt the echoes of Abyssal Bind. Varak¡¯s and Mook¡¯s presence ticked in his mind. He could feel her sending Abyssal Bugs to their deaths as she fed the Abyssal prisoners still locked in their cages, and distantly hear Mook arguing with her every step of the way. ¡°Maybe¡­not all Monster. Master need¡­army! Try this¡­first before Bind,¡± she had said, scurrying off with her brood and the other minions, carrying the Warden¡¯s soul jar like a prized possession. Mitch couldn¡¯t deny Varak¡¯s effectiveness thus far.


    Then there was Leonard. Mitch glanced at the gnome, who was animatedly rambling on about gnomish traditions to a visibly unimpressed Patty. Mitch felt the lingering pull left behind by the gnome. After he had placed his and Patty¡¯s souls back in their bodies, he had made Leonard a Follower, at the gnome¡¯s request. The gnome had in return tried to sever it immediately after, for ¡°experimentation purposes,¡±.


    It hadn¡¯t worked.


    The Abyssal Bind was absolute on Leonard¡¯s end. But for Mitch, he now knew his rules were different. The threads were strings that only he could sever. It would be his decision if Leonard or any of the others walked free of theirs. It left him feeling both unsettled and responsible for his squad.


    Who am I to decide for them?


    ¡°Accept the mantle, Mitchell. You cannot fight the Abyss alone. Nor with half measures.¡± Galadrith murmured to him. Since the sword had learned Mitch¡¯s past, he had become more sombre and direct, as if mulling things over.


    Hathgar groaned, breaking the tension of the growing stench. ¡°Bloody hells. Smell¡¯s like an ogre¡¯s backside. If whatever¡¯s down here doesn¡¯t kill us, that stench will.¡± He pulled his tattered shirt over his nose, squinting into the gloom.


    The tunnel opened into a vast chamber, its walls glistening with dark ooze. The scent hit them full force¨Cfestering meat, bile, and rusted metal. As they stepped into the new cavern, their feet and boots squelched into the muck.


    At the center of the chamber, It writhed.


    An abomination loomed like a house-sized tumor of rotting, festering flesh. Its mass swelled and pulsated as its skin stretched in pits to contain itself. Countless faces and dismembered parts fused into one rancid visage. Eyes of every shape, size, and species blinked erratically, some bloodshot and bulging, others rolling aimlessly in half-remaining sockets. Mouths gaped, frozen mid-scream or gnashing broken teeth in soundless screams. The air filled with their decayed breath.


    Veins thick as roots pumped beneath its rotting skin, bursting periodically to spray jets of black ichor, mixing with the oozing pus, piss, and shit pooling onto the cavern floor in a bubbling, rancid stew. Flesh sloughed off its form in gelatinous chunks, each splattering wetly and adding to the pile beneath it. The stench was suffocating¨Csour, rot, metal, curdled dairy. Limbs jutted out at unnatural angles, clawing blindly before sinking into the mass with squelches.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    A single, enormous eye, blood-red and webbed with throbbing veins, glared out from the center of its mass, its cracked eyelid struggling to contain its maddened stare.  The creature twitched and heaved itself forward in wet, splattering jerks, the cavern walls dripping with recycled moisture. It moved like a nightmare given flesh towards them.


    Hathgar¡¯s voice broke the silence, laced with horror. ¡°What in the hell is that!?¡± His hand reached for a weapon, but he had none. ¡°It looks like a damned stew pot come alive.¡±


    ¡°How is it alive?¡± Sable asked, her eyes locked onto the mass. Her voice was steady, but he felt her unease through their bond. ¡°Is it? Not fully?¡±


    The creature¡¯s single, enormous eye swiveled towards them, fixing its maddened gaze on Mitch. The split eyelid twitched as it widened, a low, guttural sound vibrating the rock.


    ¡°Right then!¡± Leonard let out a nervous chuckle. ¡°I¡¯ll take not it for the first charge. I¡¯ve seen dwarvish toilets cleaner than that, and those could wake the dead.¡±


    ¡°How are we even supposed to kill this thing? What is it?¡± Patty asked as she levitated a giant rock that hovered next to her, slowly spinning, waiting for her command.


    The pull he had felt internally had led Mitch here¨Cstraight to this abomination. ¡°This thing¡­it¡¯s what the Butcher left behind. A failed experiment, I believe.¡±


    ¡°Failed?¡± Hathgar spat, extending his arm to a large lance.


    The pull in Mitch¡¯s chest grew almost unbearable, an invisible thread tethering him to the center of the creature. Whatever pulsed, it came from the creature¡¯s center mass. The key lead him further past the monster.


    The group fell into formation behind him. The abomination dragged itself forward through the muck with its many limb.


    It howled¨Cor tried to. The many mouths on its mass gaped and shuddered. Rex sent panic his way a moment too late.


    It struck first.


    One limb lashed out like a whip, crashing into Patty and sending her sprawling to the ground. Before she could recover, the mass roiled, and tendrils of flesh cured around her. Mitch saw Sable flick a Fracture towards the creature, but she moved too slow. Faster than Mitch could think, it dragged her into its bloated body. Her scream cut off as she disappeared into the quivering flesh.


    ¡°Patty!¡± Leonard¡¯s voice cracked with anguish. The gnome darted forward without hesitation, his crooked arm flailing as he shouted. ¡°You bastard! You won¡¯t take her!¡±


    Hathgar barely had time to react before another hand shot out, thicker than the last, wrapping around his waist. ¡°Bloody hells!¡± he roared, trying to slice through the limb with his Wrought Iron Skin turning to a cleaver. The creature yanked him off his feet, and pulled him toward its center. His shout echoed once before he vanished inside the routine mass.


    Leonard roared in defiance. ¡°I¡¯ll kill you! You hear me, you stinking bag of shit? I¡¯ll kill you!¡± The gnome thrust his broken arm forward, and vines erupted from the ground, twisting and coiling toward the creature. Purple flowers bloomed along their length, vibrant and dripping. Where the vines struck the creature¡¯s flesh, it hissed and blackened, rotting away in chunks.


    Sable moved next. Her wires sang through the air, and cut through the creature¡¯s skin like a hot knife through butter. Each wire sent chunks of flesh splashing into the puddled filth. ¡°Get it, Mitch!¡± she called out.


    Mitch opened his mouth, and a haunting, bone-chilling howl erupted from his throat. Deathhowl. The blast struck the creature¡¯s side, ripping chunks away. He followed up with another, and another, sending meat flying through the air.


    It wasn¡¯t enough.


    The creature lashed out again, this time for him. He slashed, and Galadrith cut through the limb in one sweep. A grasping hand splashed to the floor, and began to finger crawl its way towards him.


    Mitch sprinted, and burned a soul with Soul Sacrifice. He didn¡¯t wait for one to press itself forward, he merely grasped one within his core and vanquished it. Turning its potential and energy into a surge of energy for himself. The raw rush hit and he took off.


    His boots splashed through the stew. Galadrith burned red with anger, and Rex howled in his mind as he leapt.


    He slashed at the creature¡¯s flesh. The blade cleaved a wicked wound open, and guts and muscle dropped to the floor. It was an arm span long, but that mattered little against a creature the size of a house.


    Part of the creature is dead. The thought struck him.


    Some of the mass was darker, decomposing, while others flexed with false life. Instinctively, Mitch reached out with Abyssal Vault.


    The monster recoiled, its flesh rippling as he siphoned the dead parts away in a giant chunk. It funneled into Mitch¡¯s core in a fetid tendril, the press of organs spewing out.


    Settlement Amount: 353(-1) Souls, 335(-3) Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 284(+31 Flesh).


    He saw Hathgar¡ªalive but struggling¡ªfighting within the creature, spikes of black Abyssal Wrought Iron bursting out from the pitted skin. Stabbing into the abomination from the inside out.


    ¡°Keep going!¡± Sable shouted, firing another Fracture that tore through the creature¡¯s eye. It¡¯s limbs thrashed in every direction.


    Leonard, still furious, summoned another wave of vines. This time, thorny plants pierced the creature, digging deep before exploding into a tangle of toxic blooms. The flesh melted away in globs. ¡°Give her back, you bastard!¡± he screamed.


    The abomination lashed out again, and this time, its grasp found Mitch.


    Tendrils of flesh wrapped around him. He felt Rex growl through their bond, the hound¡¯s protective instincts flaring as the creature squeezed tight. But Mitch didn¡¯t fight back. Instead, he let the creature pull him closer, his mind racing.


    If I¡¯m inside, I can end this.


    The mass engulfed him, dragging him into its stinking, suffocating mess. Darkness swallowed him whole. The pull in his chest felt like a roaring inferno. He could feel the creature¡¯s life flesh all around him¡ªcorrupt, festering, and pulsing with hate.


    Mitch grinned as Rex howled, his hound¡¯s mouth peeling away from the armor and taking a rip out of the wet that surrounded them.


    Time to take It apart from the inside.


    ¡°Yes, Mitchell. We must become knives in a world that believes it¡¯s made only of meat.¡± Galadrith hummed.

 Chapter 46: Get in Ma Belly

    Mitch was entombed in death and organs given life.


    The flesh squeezed on all sides, a smothering cocoon of decay. Rot, bile, and muscle¨Calive and hating¨Ctried to choke him. Viscous fluids seeped into every crevice and pooled inside his armor. His lungs caught, then seized, as the creature¡¯s pulsating walls tightened like an over-bloated heart, crushing inward.


    A low growl rumbled through Mitch¡¯s bond with Rex before he felt the shift. The Shadowshroud peeled its jaws away from his armor, the blackened hound splitting wide. Rex¡¯s teeth sank deep into the surrounding flesh and ripped sideways.


    A vein burst. Vile, clotted pus sprayed across Mitch¡¯s face, mingling with the stagnant blood and bile already coating him. He gagged a dry, heaving spasm. Thankfully, he had barely eaten. There was nothing to gag out.


    The cocoon shuddered, the fluid seeping and spraying in uneven rivulets.


    Galadrith hummed in his mind, the soul blade vibrating in his clenched hand. ¡°Even carrion has its limits. This beast¡­it has none. We must dismantle it.¡±


    Mitch forced the blade to cut through sheer strength.


    In wild, desperate arcs, each cleave ripped through the monster¡¯s insides. Sinew tore, and splattered gore sloshed in the coffin of the monster¡¯s wet grasp. Chunks of rotting and live meat fell away, and Mitch sucked them all into the void of Abyssal Vault. The creature recoiled from Mitch¡¯s efforts before squeezing harder in a desperate counterattack.


    Settlement Amount: 353 Souls, 335 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 323(+39 Flesh).


    Mitch couldn¡¯t speak, nor breathe. Galadrith¡¯s lament returned, a somber, deliberate melody that echoed . ¡°A butcher in a butcher¡¯s world. Do you feel it, Mitchell? The inevitability of the destruction we must wrought?¡±


    He didn¡¯t answer, not with his thoughts, and definitely not by opening his mouth. His lungs began to scream for lack of air. The upgrade to Agony¡¯s embrace, Mantle of Defiance, which granted him temporary invulnerability, charged slightly, but not enough.


    Not enough pain.


    Another swing. He carved through a knot of fused muscle as it sprayed him with festering blood. Another siphon to lock the creature¡¯s ill gotten gains into his own endless void.


    Settlement Amount: 353 Souls, 335 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 357(+34 Flesh).


    His lungs burned. Every instinct screamed for air. He couldn¡¯t stop. Rex howled, raw and feral in his mind, before biting down again. The pressure on his chest tightened, and the flesh around him constricted in spasms. Every ounce of strength felt like it was being drained from him.


    I¡¯m still a breathing being, it seems. The thought struck him like a flame, an anchor amidst the chaos.


    He burned a soul.


    The energy hit like a fist. Power filled his veins, igniting every nerve. His muscles screamed with new life as he swung harder, faster, Galadrith peeling deep into the fleshed walls. The creature roared¨Cor rather, trembled violently.


    ¡°You wanted to eat me?¡± Mitch finally snarled as he carved around him.


    Settlement Amount: 353 Souls, 335 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 446(+89 Flesh).


    More flesh fell away, the monster¡¯s grip loosening. The cocoon slackened as the pull in his chest intensified. There was a beacon that drew him to the heart of the monster.


    Time to find it.


    The monster¡¯s insides spasmed in retreat. Mitch felt the slack in its grip, a momentary reprieve from the crushing pressure. He didn¡¯t wait for it to return.


    He hacked with Galadrith. Slashed. Ripped with his free hand.


    Galadrith¡¯s edge cut through sinew and bone, peeling back the flesh in heaps. Mitch siphoned it all. Rex roared through their bond, clinging to him in wet plate, jaws tearing into the creature¡¯s internal walls. Puss and blood filled and sloshed, flooding the small space Mitch had made for himself.


    ¡°I¡¯m not food,¡± he said coldly, carving another opening. The monster groaned¨Cwet, tremulous, and beginning to break. Mitch sensed its death throes and hacked harder.


    Settlement Amount: 353 Souls, 335 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 570(+124 Flesh).


    A final swing of Galadrith through a wall of meat, and he burst free, falling forward and landing into the cavern¡¯s soupy muck.


    The air hit his face like a slap, sharp and filling his lungs in a giant gasp.


    He stumbled to his feet, soaked in filth, just as the abomination twitched and writhed behind him.


    ¡°Thought ye¡¯d gone and died in there!¡± Hathgar shouted, voice raw. He had beaten Mitch to the punch of escaping, and his extended Wrought Iron blonde cut through the beast¡¯s flesh in sweeping arcs. ¡°Bloody damned thing though it could eat me!¡±


    Mitch¡¯s eyes locked onto a scrambling section just beneath the stretch marked skin of the monster. ¡°Patty!¡± he roared.


    He leapt towards Patty¡¯s thrashing, trapped form. With his bare hands, he punched through the taut skin. It burst in a sickeningly scented belch. He reached in, hand plunging into the folds of flesh.


    His fingers found purchase and gripped onto a leg. Mitch hoped it was Patty, and with a shout, he pulled with all his strength.


    Patty emerged, her form coated in the monster¡¯s bile and blood. Gasping for air, Mitch caught her before she fell into the slop.


    Her eyes flared with anger, but she looked mostly unmarred. Patty hovered her hand over the vile flooded ground and rock flowed up.


    In a matter of seconds, her chest and arms were coated in a thin black rock armor. ¡°I¡¯m fine. Disgusting,¡± she spar, her tone as sharp as the spikes she tugged out of the ground with her Skills. ¡°Let¡¯s kill this fucking thing,¡±


    Sable¡¯s voice yelled. ¡°Focus on breaking parts off, Mitch will suck it up! Fracture incoming!¡± Her arm extended, and purple energy exploded next to Mitch¡¯s head, showering him in more filth. He glared at her for a moment as he took the flesh into his core.


    Sable fired more Fractures, and Mitch hacked away alongside Patty and Hathgar.


    Chunks of flesh splattered into the festering muck, and Mitch siphoned them as well.


    Leonard, standing back, threw his arms wide. Vines erupted from the ground, wrapping around the creature¡¯s limbs, and rotted the flesh where they touched. ¡°That¡¯s what you get for trying to eat Patty!¡±


    The creature flailed, its body collapsing inward as more flesh was torn away. Hathgar¡¯s cleaving strikes, Sable¡¯s precise wires and Fractures, Patty¡¯s boulders, Leonard¡¯s plants, Mitch¡¯s slashes with Galadrith, each blow peeled away another layer of the leaking, rotten monster.


    Settlement Amount: 353 Souls, 335 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 896(+326 Flesh).


    With that final siphon, Mitch drained the last of its dead flesh.


    What remained was worse than the abomination that housed it.


    Hate maggots.


    The maggot-like creature squelched against the sodden ground, the size of an arm. Its pallid, translucent skin stretched tight. Pustules bulged and popped along its exposed body, releasing yellow-green fluid that hissed as it hit the rotten water it lay in. Segmented flesh undulated in waves.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Rows of malformed teeth lined the top of it, flexing open and closed. It heaved in ragged breaths, releasing acidic, sour breath. Tiny twitching limbs jutted from its fattened body, useless, flailing in its own filth. A single bulbous eye emerged from its ass, rolling in its jellied socket.


    Encircling its body was a sharp, black coil, glowing faintly with purple light. It dug deep into the maggot¡¯s flesh, slicing and binding as if it had grown within it. Dark liquid oozed from the wounds where the coil burrowed.


    The maggot let out a pitiful, high-pitched wheeze, protesting its own existence.


    Sable¡¯s voice was quiet. ¡°That¡¯s¡­a Leeching Spine.¡±


    ¡°What? What¡¯s a Leeching Spine?¡± Mitch asked, curious.


    A relic. One with a known purpose.


    ¡°A vile creation.¡± Galadrith warned, sensing Mitch¡¯s desire for the relic.


    ¡°What¡¯s a Leeching Spine doing on that thing?¡± Hathgar¡¯s voice was disgusted as he wiped ichor off his arms with a scrap of cloth.


    Leonard gagged, and took a step closer to inspect the creature. ¡°Does it have the air of a deeply misunderstood poet? The kind that vomits bile and existential despair?¡±


    ¡°My kind of poet.¡± Patty laughed, letting the rock armor that encased her flow off in chunks that splashed the gnome.


    Sable ignored them, her eyes locked onto the Leeching Spine that encased the maggot. ¡°This¡­Leeching Spines are used at the Front. By warriors when they¡¯re ready to die. They wrap themselves in them to take as many Abyssal creatures with them as they can. It drains life¨Cfast, violently. No one can survive it.¡±


    Mitch crouched, staring at the creature. Galadrith¡¯s tone was muted. ¡°End this pitiful creature.¡±


    He nodded and swung, the blade slicing neatly through the maggot''s segmented body. Its screech ended, leaving only the sound of its leaking fluids.


    Reaching out, Mitch grasped its soul with Abyssal Vault and felt it slot into his core. Green and black and whining, the corrupted soul vibrated like an off-tune string in his chest. He felt the recoil immediately. The other souls in his core seemed to shrink away, disgusted by the intruder.


    Settlement Amount: 353 Souls, 335(+1) Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 896 Flesh.


    Mitch left the flesh.


    Screw that. Not taking in that.


    ¡°I will not consume that soul. No thank you,¡± Mitch felt Galadrith shudder in his mind.


    Rex growleddeep and guttural. The Shadowshroud surged with hunger, its intent palpable. Mitch blinked in surprise. Rex wanted the Leeching Spine.


    ¡°If Rex eats this, what happens?¡± Mitch asked aloud to the group. He could feel the Shadowshroud practically frothing at the mouth in his mind.


    Sable stepped forward. ¡°I don;t know,¡± she admitted. She studied the dark relic, its faint purple energy crackling. ¡°Leeching Spines are devastating, and they consume life from the wearer as well.¡±


    Mitch stared at the relic coiled around the maggot¡¯s body. Rex¡¯s presence pressed harder against his mind, a deep thrumming hunger pulsing from the Shadowshroud. He trusted Rex¡¯s instincts, even when he didn¡¯t fully understand them.


    ¡°Do it,¡± Mitch said quietly.


    Rex peeled away from Mitch¡¯s body in a fluid, shadowy movement, leaving his scarred chest exposed. The hound¡¯s black fur rippled like living smoke as he shifted into his beast form, his single glowing eye fixed on the Leeching Spine.


    With predatory strides, Rex approached the maggot¡¯s corpse. In one powerful snap, he seized the spine and crushed it in his jaws.


    The moment Rex¡¯s teeth sank into the relic, purple sparks erupted. Energy hissed and sizzled, but Rex ignored it. Three loud crunches echoed in the chamber as Rex consumed the relic. The maggot¡¯s dead body flopped, only for Rex to tear into it further.


    Waves of purple energy crackled over Rex¡¯s body, settling into his frame as the relic fused with him. The hound¡¯s dripping tongue lolled out, as though he were savoring the raw power that now radiated from his form.


    His snarling teeth gleamed in a grotesque grin of satisfaction. Rex shook the maggot apart, tossing it into the muck.


    ¡°The power in that spine¡­¡± Galadrith mused. ¡°I wonder. If I too could consume such a thing. What heights we could reach together.¡±


    Mitch frowned. You¡¯re not eating relics without my say so. Who knows what it could do to you. It could damage you.


    It was impossible to not think of the ring from the Warden that filled his pocket, however.


    I wonder¡­


    ¡°Bloody disgoostin¡¯!¡± Hathgar moaned, pretending to gag.


    ¡°What a marvelous creature. The raw vigor in his loins!¡± Leonard clapped his malformed hands together with delight.


    ¡°Is he Okay? Are you Ok?¡± Sable asked, looking at Mitch warily.


    He couldn¡¯t tell. There didn¡¯t seem to be any damage done to his body, nor Rex¡¯s.


    I hope that works out¡­


    Rex wasn¡¯t finished. Padding back to the maggot¡¯s remains, Rex nudged the twisted corpse with his nose before clamping his jaws around it. With a violent shake of his head, a crumpled, bloodied piece of parchment tumbled free from the mess.


    The Shadowshroud carefully plucked the note in his teeth and brought it back to Mitch, dropping it at his feet before merging back into his armor with a satisfied growl.


    Rex felt heavier and satisfied. Fait trails of purple flickered like embers along the edges of the armor. Mitch wondered what the Leeching Spine would do to Rex. He could feel that Rex had changed in some way, but did not receive a notification.


    A trickle of power frum Rex tingled across his skill. Purple flickered around the edges of the armor, making his chest feel heavier with the weight of something hungry within Rex.


    Next time someone gives us trouble, show me, Rex.


    Rex grumbled and settled onto Mitch comfortably.


    ¡°What is that?¡± Sable asked, coming over to stand beside Mitch.


    Mitch didn¡¯t answer. Rex growled contentedly in his mind, satiated after his meager meal.


    He unfurled the note. The writing was even and expertly crafted in black ink,.


    ¡°Feast well, for the Abyss hungers. There is no waste among us, only sustenance. Welcome to the table, glutton.¡±


    At the bottom of the note, the writers had signed their note: The Gluttonous Ones.


    Mitch¡¯s stomach twisted as he read the words. A memory was there, and he reached for it. It was just outside his grasp, but he felt the weight of the name stir something primal in him. Anger.


    His body reacted violently, his muscles coiling as though ready for a fight.


    ¡°The Gluttonous Ones,¡± he said heatedly, turning to the others. ¡°What the hell does that mean?¡±


    ¡°Never heard of ¡®em.¡± Hathgar answered. ¡°Sounds like some Abyssal slop fer¡¯ overeaters''.¡± Looking at Leonard and Patty, they both shook their heads.


    Sable¡¯s face was contemplative. ¡°I¡¯ve¡­ heard of them. Just rumors. Whispers of things that lurk deeper than the Abyss itself. We need to ask Mook about this. If anyone knows, it¡¯ll be him.¡±


    Mitch felt the frustration bubbling over. ¡°Galadrith,¡± he said sharply, his voice snapping in his mind. If you¡¯ve got anything to add, now¡¯s the time. Stop lurking in my head like some cryptic oracle.


    The blade¡¯s voice hummed low, edged with bitterness.


    ¡°The Gluttonous Ones... an Abyssal faction, ancient and ravenous. They thrive on excess¡ªflesh, power, souls. I did not cross their path before I was brought to the Front... at least in this soul cycle. Details elude me, but their hunger is... endless. A reminder that in the Abyss, nothing is wasted. Not even us.¡±


    Mitch cursed under his breath, the cryptic nature of Galadrith¡¯s response fueling his agitation. He turned sharply toward Leonard, who was muttering something under his breath about ¡°horrifying gluttons.¡±


    ¡°Enough, Leonard!¡± Mitch barked, the sudden force of his voice making everyone flinch. ¡°We don¡¯t need your commentary right now.¡±


    Leonard fell silent, his lopsided grin vanishing as he shrank back behind Patty, who gave Mitch a sharp look but said nothing.


    The tension thickened as Mitch took a steadying breath. TThe key burned across his chest, its pull sharp and unyielding. It didn¡¯t feel like a choice¨Cit was a gravity, dragging him towards something he couldn¡¯t resist.


    ¡°We can¡¯t just stand here,¡± Mitch said, his voice grim but resolute. ¡°We move. Now.¡±


    Sable stepped forward, placing a hand on his arm. ¡°Mitch, wait¡ª¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he snapped, shaking her hand off. ¡°We have to keep going. Whatever¡¯s down there, we get to it.¡±


    Hathgar¡¯s glare was sharp. ¡°Yer bloody determined to drag us all to hell fer¡¯ some key. I hope it¡¯s worth it.¡±


    Mitch met his gaze but said nothing, turning away and pressing forward. The pull in his chest grew sharper, gnawing at him like a hunger that refused to be ignored.


    Mitch sent a mental call through his Abyssal Bind.


    Varak¡¯s response was immediate, her brood¡¯s chittering faint but eager in his mind.


    ¡°We come. Bring Mook. Be¡­calm. Mook know thing.¡±


    Mitch felt himself clench his teeth at the word. Calm wasn¡¯t possible. Not with the pull of the key pulling him forward. His gut churned as guilt brushed against his thoughts, but he buried it. Whatever the key offered, he wanted it.


    The group looked at eachother with unease as they followed him. The pull of the key was relentless.


    Why can¡¯t I stop? The thought flickered before he shoved it aside. He couldn¡¯t stop. Whatever lay ahead, it would make sense once he reached it. It had to.


    Behind him, the group followed hesitantly. Mitch could feel their doubt pressing against his back, but it didn¡¯t matter.


    The corridor stretched ahead, and with every step, the key grew warmer.


    So close.

 Chapter 47: Big Spooky Door

    The caverns blurred around him, the shapes flickering like phantom memories. Mitch barely registered the uneven wet stone beneath his feet, the muck clinging to his body, or the tramping of his companions trailing behind. The pull of the key was unbearable¨Crelentless, ravenous even.


    It was a hook buried deep in his chest, dragging him forward with a hunger that mirrored Rex¡¯s primal instincts. The Shadowshroud grumbled contentedly against his skin, absorbing the Leeching Spine and pleased by his realization.


    Within his core, certain souls thrummed, vibrating with an almost jubilant rhythm.


    Galadrith hummed too. ¡°Do you feel it, Mitchell? A presence ahead. Old. Powerful. It waits for us.¡±


    Mitch let the sword¡¯s conjecture slide.


    It waits for me.


    ¡°I much prefer gnomish beaches to this¨Cno keys dragging you into doom, just good sand and bad drinks. Nice and simple.¡± Leonard¡¯s laugh was forced, and it quickly died in the oppressive silence as he trailed behind Mitch.


    Patty walked next to Leonard, shoulders squared, her stone armor that covered her body creaking with every step. The rock she commanded clung to her like malformed skin, as she had made it smooth against her.


    Sable walked with purpose, but even she couldn¡¯t hide the way her fingers flexed at her sides, ready to lash out at whatever lay ahead. ¡°Slow down,¡± she called. ¡°We don¡¯t all have the Abyss pulling us forward.¡±


    He didn¡¯t know. Couldn¡¯t slow. The pull refused to let him.


    ¡°Bloody tall people,¡± Hathgar grumbled, waddling at the back. ¡°Always the big one¡¯s think they got to prove something with their legs.¡±


    The cavern opened suddenly, revealing a towering, ancient door that loomed like a monument to despair.


    Mitch stopped abruptly, his breath catching as he took it in.


    The door was massive, a towering monolith of black stone that drank in the light around it. Intricate patterns spiraled across its surface. They shifted, as though alive, wherever Mitch did not look.


    Finger bones, polished smooth by centuries and bleach white, jutted out along the edges, framing the door. Their color stood in stark contrast to the door¡¯s oppressive darkness. Each bone seemed to be dotted with tiny, unreadable markings.


    At the door¡¯s heart was a key hold above a protruding blade. The cruel metal was coated in a faint sheen of crimson that did not drip.


    Above the door, carved with precision, was an hourglass. The sand inside hung suspended at the top. It seemed to pulse an ancient, menacing authority.


    The air around the door pressed, heavy with reverent silence. It wasn¡¯t just a barrier. It wasn¡¯t just a barrier¡ªit was a sentinel, waiting, watching.


    Mitch¡¯seyes locked onto the hourglass, and a wave of something he couldn¡¯t quite name crashed over him. Memories tried to force his way into his mind, but they were locked away like forgotten notes.


    Pride? Honor? No. Something deeper and rawer. It felt like a threaded through connection, woven through time, binding him to the image carved permanently into stone.


    The suspended sand whispered of forgotten triumphs, devastating defeats, and a legacy Mitch¡¯s mind refused to show him. Only that it made his heart both sing and weep.


    Hathgar stepped closer to him. ¡°The Bloody Masked Lord¡¯s symbol.¡± He ran a hand over his wild red beard. ¡°I ain¡¯t ever seen it outside Stonehollow¨Cnever thought I¡¯d see it in the wild. What in the Stars could be behind this door?¡±


    Even Patty, usually sharp and guarded, stared at the symbol. Her green eyes traced the hourglass with softness. ¡°It¡¯s real,¡± she murmured to herself. ¡°The old stories¡­ they said his symbol marked important places. Place¡¯s he¡¯d claimed. Before the Abyss won.¡± The bitterness she usually wore stripped away.


    Sable¡¯s mismatched eyes lingered on Mitch. She shifted her look back to the door. ¡°You¡¯re connected to this, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    The group fell silent. Mitch didn¡¯t answer her as he stepped closer, the pull of the key drawing him forward. She was right.


    Whatever lay beyond that door¨Cit called to him. He couldn¡¯t deny the pull, or his desire.


    Mitch took a step forward, the air around the door growing heavier with each inch he closed. The presence emanating from the entrance felt suffocating. Menacing in its sheer weight, but also inviting, like a friendly predator.


    Rex rippled around him, a growl vibrating through their bond. But it didn¡¯t hold him back. If anything, Rex seemed content, smug even.


    Mitch reached around his neck and ripped the necklace Mathilda had given him off. His hand trembled as he raised the key to the slot above the knife. With a soft click, the key slid into place.


    A sudden surge of red light erupted from the key, flooding the space in crimson.


    Mitch¡¯s eyes widened and his heart dropped as the key began to dissolve, melting and then evaporating into nothingness.


    The glow faded, leaving only the dark, carved, impenetrable door.


    A pang of loss hit up. The pull¨Cthe hook from the key¨Cwas gone, but his heart still clawed forward, yearning. The door still felt alive, connected to him in a way he couldn¡¯t explain.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    Sable stepped up beside him. ¡°The key. It¡¯s gone, but you¡¯re still tied to this. I can feel it.¡± She glanced at the knife, then back to Mitch. ¡°It¡¯s asking for something more.¡±


    She stepped forward, and pressed her hands against the cold surface of the door. It didn¡¯t bulge. Her jaw flexed, and she strained her muscles against the unyielding stone. ¡°Nothing,¡± she muttered.


    Her hand brushed the knife embedded in the door¡¯s center as she pulled away. The blade¡¯s sharp edge pricked her skin, drawing a single bead of blood that rolled down her hand. She hissed softly but paused as if expecting a reaction from the door.


    Nothing happened. The door didn¡¯t want her blood. The carvings remained still, the hourglass above sat frozen, sand unmoving.


    Mitch stepped forward towards the knife. It glinted, but didn¡¯t feel like a trap. It felt expectant. ¡°It¡¯s asking for me.¡±


    He reached out slowly, his hardened skin brushing the ice cold metal. The door wasn¡¯t just a barrier; it was watching, judging.


    He pressed his palm into the knife.


    The blade pierced his skin effortlessly, sliding in with a precision that sent a chill down his back. A sting bloomed in his hand, but it wasn¡¯t unbearable. He had endured worse, but this was different. This felt personal.


    Blood welled up, pooling before the knife absorbed it greedily, sucking it out of him. The carving lit up in a faint red, veins of light spreading outwards like molten cracks in the stone.


    Above, the hourglass finally moved.


    Carved sand that had been frozen in mid-air shifted, spilling downward. Time stirred within the stone. Each grain struck the bottom with a phantom weight. The hourglass slowed, then stopped, its flow arrested once more.


    Now, the bottom of the hourglass held a measure of time.


    The world around him faded. The murmur of his companies, gasps and muttered disbelief, vanished as a voice spoke to him.


    It was his voice. Distant and warped yet unmistakable. ¡°Boundless power awaits. Enter not as the feast but as the hunter.¡±


    His heart pounded as the memory unfurled. The door hadn¡¯t just accepted his offering. It had known him. It was waiting.


    A surge of pride swelled within him as his eyes locked onto the hourglass. It had moved for him.


    It was a door¨Cbut not just a door. It was a threshold, ancient and scarred, that had been waiting. A ravenous hook still yanked at his heart, pulling his forward, urging him to cross. To step into something vast, something inevitable.


    To claim what lay beyond.


    Mitch pressed his hands against the stone, and the door swung inward with surprising ease. The sound it made, however, was anything but welcoming. A guttural, low-pitched growl shook the stone as the door cracked the rock, like the breath of some ancient beast stirred from a long slumber.


    Beyond the threshold lay a barely lit room. Black marble floors stretched out beneath a thick layer of dust and an unseen ceiling. A once-ornate table lay overturned at the center of the room, golden edged chipped and cracked.


    Twin staircases lined with red carpet spiraled upward in perfect symmetry, their rails wrapped in dried vines that crackled as the stale air stirred them.


    The scent hit them next. Dry, almost herbal, carrying something ancient. It wasn¡¯t unpleasant, but it was alien after smelling nothing but stone, blood, and death.


    Rex peeled away from Mitch in a fluid motion, leaping into his hound form with a soundless snarl, leaving Mitch uncovered.


    Purple energy crackled across his fur. His large, single eye scanned the space before he padded into the space, and immediately started sniffing the ground.


    Hathgar muttered half-seriously. ¡°Bah. Wonderful estate. Little dustin¡¯.¡±


    Leonard couldn¡¯t resist. ¡°Dust? This is a prime fixer-upper! Look at that¡­ table and marble!¡±


    Mitch looked back at his squad. The estate over the threshold was achingly familiar in a way he couldn¡¯t place. It felt that the space recognized him. Or perhaps it was the other way around.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t just a place,¡± He said. ¡°This is a piece of what I am.¡±


    He met Sable¡¯s waiting eyes, and she nodded at him, gesturing to go inside.


    Mitch crossed the threshold. The air of the estate shifted around him. It wasn¡¯t colder, or warmer. Just different.


    He didn¡¯t feel the usual tension of entering the unknown. There was no fear here, only a pull. His shoulders, usually tight with battle readiness, began to loosen.


    It felt like coming home.


    Behind him, the others hesitated. But one by one, they followed, their footsteps soft and hesitant against the marble floor.


    As Mitch walked further into the dimly lit space, details of the estate began to reveal themselves. Carvings edged into the stone walls. Artifacts fixed to the walls. Cleanly carved hallways leading to other rooms. It was huge, and felt endless.


    The hum of a notification buzzed in his mind, breaking the spell for a moment.


    Quest: Open the Sealed Door


    Use the Key on the Door.


    Answer Mathilda¡¯s Call.


    Status: In Progress


    He had done it. Mitch had found the Sealed Door. The space beyond it felt like his. Rex barked from another room before running over to him for scratches. He reached down and indulged the beast.


    Excitement bubbled up, and Mitch finally laughed. The door wasn¡¯t an entrance. It was his rite, and his declaration. And now it was behind him.


    He had found it.


    His squad crossed the threshold, and he could just see Varak and Mook finally catching up with them. Mook huffed beside the quick and nimble Varak with her children clinging to her. The remaining bugs and less intelligent minions followed in a stream.


    Hathgar muttered something under his breath, his gaze flicking upward as if half expecting the ceiling to come crashing down. Leonard whistled low, his tone equal parts awe and nerves. Sable¡¯s expression was unreadable, her gaze locked on Mitch, then back to the sprawling estate, as though she too felt its pull.


    Galadrith grumbled. ¡°Ah, yes. This will do. This will do quite nicely.¡±


    Varak¡¯s rushed scuttle to join them made Mitch smile. A rare, genuine grin finally breaking through the grime of the Abyss. Whatever lay waiting inside the estate, it was his to face.


    And he couldn¡¯t wait.


    He walked over to the door, and with ease, slammed it shut, sealing them inside.


    As he turned to leave, something on the back of the door caught his eye¡ªa metal dial, its pointer resting at the top on a blank space. Surrounding it were faint, cryptic symbols etched into the metal, along with a single glowing lock.


    Mitch¡¯s fingers brushed over the dial, and an odd sensation flickered in his chest. Wariness. His body was telling him something, and he was going to listen.


    Just in case, he turned the dial to the glowing lock, and turned back to his squad, who were already exploring the giant house.


    Don¡¯t want any surprise visitors now¡­


    It was time to find out what he had been led to.

 Chapter 48: Its Free Real Estate

    Mitch groaned as almost-to-hot water cascaded down his back, soothing muscles that had been tense for what felt like eternity. There wasn¡¯t any soap, but that didn¡¯t matter. It had been far too long since his last shower. Abyssal Vault might have siphoned the blood and viscera into his core, but the grime of the Ahyss¨Cthe clinging dirt and the weight of its filth¨Cremained. Now, at last, it was washing away.


    When the brass shower fittings in the sprawling bathroom turned on immediately after a long nap, he¡¯d almost cheered. Wherever the water came from, he didn¡¯t care. It was clean, and it was his.


    The first place the squad had explored was the winding second floor. Looking upward, Mitch had caught glimpses of several more levels stretching high above, not to mention the massive, high-ceilinged first floor. The Estate was a labyrinth of dark beauty, its mysteries pulling at the edges of his memory. But for now, the pull to explore could wait. He needed to breathe. And clean himself.


    Long, meticulously carved black stone hallways lined with red rugs leg to dozens of living quarters on the second floor. Mitch had claimed the largest room at the end of the hallway. Without protest, the others had dispersed, closing their doors for some much needed rest and solitude. Even Varak had skittered off with her brood to settle down in a small room. No one had commented when Patty dragged a stammering Leonard into one of the rooms.


    So far? Mitch thought, and had felt a pang of disappointment when Sable had claimed the room on the complete opposite end of the hallway.


    Rex settled into the massive, too-soft bed in the sleeping quarters. The Shadowshroud, who loathed water, curled his dark frame on the dusty mattress, his single eye closed. Mitch felt the ever present leash connection between them, but this was the first time he had truly been alone in weeks. Galadrith lay silent on a sturdy wooden desk, muttering something about needing to ¡°mull over these developments¡± before falling silent.


    Mitch turned off the scalding water. He stepped out, naked and dripping, onto the black marble floor. Padding back into the bedroom, he took it all in.


    His bedroom. Somehow, his body¡¯s instincts confirmed it. The space was his. It felt like settling into an old, well-worn chair¨Cfamiliar and intimate, yet completely out of place. It was strange, but Mitch let the feeling wash over him like the water had.


    For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, he allowed himself to fully exhale.


    Mitch crossed the room to a massive wooden closet carved with the intricate, swirling patterns that adorned the Estate. He pulled open the doors, and a dusty scent wafted out. Inside, rows of clothes hung on rusted iron bars, the fabrics faded but intact. Shirts, pants, and long coats of strange styles hung in shades of black, gray, and deep red. They belonged to another time, another life.


    There were no windows in any of the quarters, only a bright glowstone embedded into the ceiling. It cast the spaces in steady light, and Mitch had already could the small metal dial near the door. When turned, the glow dimmed, then brightened again as he adjusted the dial.


    A low growl from Rex pulled Mitch¡¯s attention back. His shadowy companion single eye watched him, and Mitch raised an eyebrow as he reached for a shirt. ¡°What now?¡± he asked aloud, holding it up. ¡°If you have to be nothing but armor, can you at least let me wear this?¡±


    Rex¡¯s tongue lolled out in what might have been a dog¡¯s version of a laugh, but the growl softened. A moment later, the Shadowshroud zipped from his comfortable lounging to Mitch¡¯s frame through their connection. With a sensation that was almost playful, Rex shifted, and molded himself across Mitch¡¯s torso into a comfortable T-shirt.


    ¡°Much better, Rex,¡± Mitch said happily, slipping into a pair of clean, well-fitted pants from the closet. They clung to his hips perfectly, and he marveled at how they seemed tailored to him. He slipped on the worn boots, ignoring the ornate ones in the closet. ¡°Appreciate it, buddy,¡± he muttered to Rex. The hound grumbled contentedly, his presence warm against Mitch¡¯s skin.


    Before leaving, Mitch grabbed the Warden¡¯s ring from the desk. He wanted to run an experiment with Rex later, but didn¡¯t want to push him too much. Rex crackled with the purple energy from the Leeching spine, and Mitch wanted to understand what had changed before pushing the relic onto his dog.


    Galadrith¡¯s voice hummed as Mitch picked up the blade, the weight reassuring in his hand. ¡°Secret stronghold,¡± the sword muttered, half to itself. ¡°Training grounds, candles, food¡­ Abyssal Mushrooms? For food? Hogs? Relics. Yes. A place like this will hold relics. Hmm¡­ what secrets lie here?¡±


    ¡°Planning ahead, are we?¡± Mitch couldn¡¯t help but snort as he caught Galadrith¡¯s thoughts.


    ¡°Always,¡± Galadrith replied, his tone contemplative. ¡°I have escaped the cycle of Abyssal torment. This isn¡¯t merely a sanctuary, Mitchell. There are secrets we must uncover.¡±Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    Mich agreed, and he glanced around the room one last time. A nap and a shower later, he felt like a new man. The souls within him stirred excitedly at the prospect to be on the move again.


    The weight of the Estate settled on his shoulders¨Cnot oppressive but heavy with meaning. He felt pulls in all directions of the sprawling building, not as sharp as the key¡¯d had been, but persistent.


    ¡°Let¡¯s find out what this place holds then.¡± Mitch said to Galadrith and opened his bedroom door.


    Mitch opened the door, and immediately, the sound reached him. A metallic banging echoed faintly through the air, like someone knocking.


    He froze, hand still on the doorknob, ears straining. It wasn¡¯t loud, nor was it the chaotic screeching and wailing he¡¯d come to associate with most Abyssal Horrors. It sounded like someone wanted to be let in through a door from somewhere.


    Better than yelling. If whatever is knocking isn¡¯t screeching, it should be fine¨Cfor now.


    He thought for the best course of action for a moment.


    Time to delegate.


    Standing in the hallway was Mook, his claws twitching with barely contained energy, and Varak, holding a crooked broom. A corner of the hall behind her revealed a giant pile of gathered dust. Her brood was nowhere to be seen.


    ¡°You hear this? Yes? Something is here. I must still investigate where the knowledge is hidden.¡± Mook said, his voice curious and excited as he leaned forward slightly.


    Mitch looked at Varak, who answered before he could ask. ¡°Children sleeping. Other minion too. Finally. No need wake. They¡­tired. Dust everywhere. Hmmm.¡± She gestured at the pile as if it were a great victory.


    Mitch smiled at her. It was strange to see an Abyssal monster holding a broom and cleaning. ¡°Good. They need to rest.¡± His tone shifted. ¡°Mook, Varak, I want you to check out the source of that knocking. Whatever¡¯s there, I need to know. Don¡¯t open the door where it¡¯s coming from,¡± He turned to Mook. ¡°Just ping me when you find it.¡±


    Mook¡¯s black eyes gleamed, his anticipation palpable. ¡°Of course, Mitchell. Door. Books as well, yes? Knowledge. Yes, we will find them.¡± He barely waited for Mitch¡¯s nod before scuttling off, his feet claws clicking down the corridor as Varak gave Mitch a look before following, broom still clutched in one hand. She grumbled something about ¡°dusty knocks.¡±


    Hathgar and Sable walked towards him from down the hall, both looking refreshed. Patty and Leonard were nowhere to be found. Still recovering in their shared room. Hathgar rolled his shoulders, his wrought iron body now wearing a clean but too-long shirt. ¡°What¡¯s all that noise, lad?¡± he grunted. ¡°Can¡¯t we get a damned break?¡±


    ¡°No idea yet. Mook and Varak are on it. If it¡¯s not trying to kill us, I¡¯m sure it¡¯ll be fine for at least a little,¡± he turned to Sable, who looked fantastic to him now that she wasn¡¯t covered in soot and sludge.


    ¡°We¡¯re checking out the first floor,¡± Mitch finished, taking in Sable¡¯s clean lips before motioning them to follow. Her eyes stayed on his with a hungry, almost ravenous look.


    As they walked, the air around them felt alive. Glowstones set into the ceiling cast even light, illuminating intricate carvings on the stone. The hall was wide, its vaulted ceiling lined with shard arches that seemed to both invite and menace. Each step they took was muffled by the thick crimson rugs that ran the length of the floor.


    Mitch ran his hand along the wall as they moved, tracing the carvings. They weren¡¯t just decorative. Symbols twisted and flowed, their meaning teasing his mind like unspoken truths. It was impossible to tell if the hum he felt came from the glowstones, the walls, or the building itself.


    ¡°This place,¡± Sable said quietly. ¡°It¡¯s not the Abyss. I mean, not like the parts we¡¯ve seen. It¡¯s¡­¡± She hesitated, looking at Mitch. ¡°Comfortable. I don¡¯t feel like something¡¯s going to jump out at us.¡±


    He agreed. The Estate was alive in its own way, and not in the dangerous way.


    The staircase opened into the spraying foyer. It was grand, but also felt empty. A pleasant inviting face that did not reveal anything truly meaningful. The hallways bracketed off in multiple directions, each disappearing behind a corner. Dust coated every surface, but there was little ornamentation, almost as if this was the least interesting part of the property.


    Mitch heard Mook and Varak¡¯s distant scitters towards the hallway to their right and towards the knocking. He veered left, and led the way, letting his gut lead him.


    The black marble corridor widened, leading into a large room. The furnishings became visible as they approached¨Ca living room, or what had once been one. Cracked leather couches arranged around a dark fireplace. The mantle held something he couldn¡¯t make out in the shadow. A tarnished brass chandelier hung overhead.


    Mitch stepped forward to cross the threshold¨Cand the world shifted.


    The air thickened for a moment, he felt his stomach lurch, and then the living room vanished.


    He stood in a dim, unfamiliar space. The walls shimmered like the surface of an oil slick, and the floor beneath his boots felt solid yet wrong, as if resisting his weight.


    ¡°Bloody fucking portals,¡± Hathgar¡¯s voice came from behind him as he stumbled next to Mitch. ¡°Of course. Why not? Wonderful, just when I thought ye¡¯ were doing the smart thing and looking fer the whiskey cellar.¡±


    Stable stepped through next, her gaze looking around the small with multiple off shooting halls. ¡°Where are we?¡± she asked, her voice steady despite the tension in her shoulders.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Mitch admitted. His gut had told him to come this way, and he wanted to keep exploring. He scanned the hallways that lined the walls, and chose one at random.


    Something within his body¡¯s memories told him that he just needed to focus on where he wanted to go. He wasn¡¯t sure where he was going, but he did want to know what secrets the Estate held. It was time to meander.


    It wasn¡¯t what they¡¯d expected.


    But it was exactly what the Estate had intended.

 Chapter 49: Rooms on Rooms on Rooms

    The air shifted, not uncomfortably, as Mitch stepped into the hallway while thinking ¡®Library¡¯. His booted foot landed on smooth black stone, just like before. The dry scent of aged parchment hit him. It mixed with the metallic tang of forgotten time.


    Before him was a tightly packed, labyrinth library.


    Black metal tables with surfaces dulled by years of undisturbed dust scattered across the room, surrounded by wooden chairs. Hand sized glowstones rested atop them, dim light struggling to pierce the haze. No windows broke the seamless expanse of carved rock walls, as seemed to be the case in the entire Estate. The only light came from the glowstones themselves, cold and steady and covered in dust.


    The shelves towered around him, made of ancient wood and unrusted black iron. Thousands of books haphazardly lined their surfaces¨Csome in cracked leather, others delicate scrolls, and a few massive tomes pulsed with potent energy. The space wasn¡¯t grand, but it exuded a dense weight of packed knowledge. Tightly wound and crammed in the available space.


    Sable entered behind him, confirming his thoughts on how one could move around the Estate. She had likely followed, and came to the same place as him.


    She took in the rooms and her eyes widened. ¡°This¡­I¡¯ve never seen anything like this,¡± she whispered, voice tinged with reverence as she rushed up to a shelf, tracing her fully healed and unthreaded and perfectly healed hand over the binding of a small tome. ¡°So much knowledge, just sitting here.¡±


    Hathgar appeared next, not there one moment and stumbling into a shelf the next. He glanced around in a panic before settling. ¡°Bah! A library,¡± he waved his meaty arm and scanned the room. ¡°Portal to a bloody library. A secret one!¡± his voice rose. ¡°Every dwarf damn well knows knowledge isn¡¯t to be kept, it¡¯s to be shared. Who locked all this away? What good is a treasure if it rots unseen?¡±


    Mitch gazed upward, tracing the high, vaulted ceiling where wooden beams crisscrossed like a skeleton. He couldn¡¯t help but agree with Hathgar¨Cthere was something selfish about this place. He could feel it. As if it hoarded secrets for the sake of hoarding. Still, the usefulness of a library jammed with knowledge would come in handy.


    Then, something stirred in his mind. It wasn¡¯t a memory he recognized, but one his body seemed recalled.


    Another version of him, standing in this very library. This past inhabitant wasn¡¯t here to study or learn¨Che just stole. A thief, with twisted skills differing from his own that let him pilfer knowledge as easily as he picked locks and slid under doors. Maddening himself with knowledge and with uncovering the truth. The truth of Skills, of history, of what happened to bring him to Abythra.


    The memory unfurled further, finalizing at his end: a single devastating blow as he tried to steal just one more book. A crack to the head, instant and final. Darkness.


    Mitch blinked, shaking the phantom pain from his mind.


    ¡°The Library,¡± he murmured to himself.


    Galadrith¡¯s voice cut through his thoughts contemplatively. ¡°Wisdom, knowledge, power¡­ They are tools, Mitchell. But wield them poorly, and they will destroy you.¡±


    Mitch pondered the point as he closed his eyes. He sent a mental pulse through Abyssal Bind. The connection to Mook flared to life, a sharp thread of connection. With a push, he sent through a message.


    Found the library, Mitch projected towards Mook and Varak. The response was instant and electric.


    Excitement ripped through the bond, tangible and Mitch was almost infected by it. ¡°BOOKS? WHERE?¡± Mook¡¯s mental voice carried through weaker than Varak¡¯s had, but Mitch sensed his barely contained anticipation. Mitch could also hear the skittering of Mook¡¯s and Varak¡¯s claws as they paced wherever they were.


    Here. Stay on your task. After you find out what¡¯s making that banging noise.


    A pause, then a gushing flood of emotional agreement. ¡°Of course, Mitchell. But after¡­afterward, I will come to this Library. This treasure. A feast for the mind!¡±


    Mitch allowed himself a smile as Mook¡¯s emotions crackled through the link. The Abyssal scholar¡¯s enthusiasm was grounding.


    Varak¡¯s presence brushed against the Bind next, softer and calmer. ¡°Closer,¡± she reported. ¡°No threat. Mmmm. Dust. Endless.¡±


    Mitch¡¯s smile grew. Good. Keep at it. Let me know when you¡¯ve found the source.


    He opened his eyes to find Hathgar and Sable exploring the Library. ¡°Varak and Mook are on it,¡± he said aloud. ¡°They¡¯re closing in on that banging.¡±


    Sable turned, offering him a small smile that made his heart warm. ¡°And what about us? What¡¯s the plan here?¡±


    Mitch turned to Hathgar, who was running a finger along a dusty table with a scrunched up face.


    ¡°Well,¡± he said, ¡°Hathgar here said something about this Estate holding something useful. What was it? Ale?¡±


    Hathgar¡¯s eyes lit up. ¡°Aye, lad! Ale. Whiskey. Maybe even some fancy elven wine. Who knows what treasures this cursed place might be a hoardin¡¯.¡± He gave the shelves a dismissive wave.


    ¡°Let¡¯s test that theory then.¡± He smiled brightly at the dwarf.


    Hathgar raised an eyebrow as Mitch approached the Library¡¯s threshold on the other side of it. ¡°What¡¯re ye schemin¡¯, lad?¡±


    ¡°Simple,¡± Mitch replied, stepping aside. ¡°You¡¯re going first. Just make sure you think ¡®ale¡¯,¡±


    ¡°Course I bloody am,¡± Hathgar grumbled, rolling his shoulders and striding up the the hallway. ¡°Ain¡¯t scared. Swear on me ma¡¯.¡± He paused and turned to look at Mitch. ¡°If I end up somewhere bad though, you¡¯ll be payin¡¯.¡±


    ¡°Deal,¡± Mitch laughed and gestured for him to go.


    Hathgar crossed the threshold¨Cand disappeared.


    Mitch hesitated for only a moment before following, not focussing on a destination.


    The air changed immediately. Cool, dry, and faintly spiced with the scent of aged wood and something smoky. They were in a beautifully arranged cellar, the black stone walls lined with shelves of wine, liquor, and rows of deep brown bottles.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Glowstones cast a warm light, illuminating some labels embossed with intricate gold filigree. Some bottles were dust-covered relics and held unknown effects, while others gleamed as though freshly polished.


    Hathgar let out a low whistle, stepping forward to pluck a bottle from the nearest shelf. He wiped the dest off with his finger, revealing the label. Silken Dwarven Whiskey.


    ¡°Stars above,¡± Hathgar mouth breathed in excitement, uncorking the bottle. He tipped it back, taking a long sip before letting out a satisfied sigh. ¡°Oh my Stars. Blood and Balls. It¡¯s real. An¡¯ delicious.¡±


    Mitch chuckled, filing the location away in his mind as he snatched the bottle from Hathgar and took a sip himself. It was delicious. Smooth and warm and woody, without any magical effects. Just good whiskey. ¡°Guess the Estate has its priorities straight.¡±


    ¡°Aye, priorities,¡± Hathgar said, grabbing a personal sized keg under his arm. ¡°Yer tab, remember?¡±


    ¡°On my tab,¡± Mitch quipped, glancing around the cellar. Sable sorted through the bottles and plucked one Mitch recognized. A bottle of Nightswart Absinthe. She gave him a coy smile before returning to her usual poise. Mitch¡¯s stomach lurched in nerves at her look.


    The souls in his core stirred faintly as well, eager to keep him moving.


    Satisfied, Mitch made a mental note to try and share a drink with Sable, and to return to the cellar later. ¡°Let¡¯s not get too comfortable,¡± he said, turning to the hallway at the end of the cellar.


    Mitch stepped through the threshold with Hathgar and Sable trailing behind. He let the thought of souls guide him.


    The air turned damp and cold, clinging to his skin. Water dripped around him as he opened his eyes to find himself in a small, dungeon-like chamber.


    The room was darker than the others, glowstones faint and sparse. Shelves lined the chamber neatly, each holding jars of varying shapes and sizes.


    Mitch took a step closer. The jars weren¡¯t empty.


    Each jar held a single soul.


    Some of the jars glowed faintly, their souls dim and still, candles on the verge of burning out. Others pulsed violently, trapped souls thrashing against the confines of their prisons. Maddened fury that seeped into the room itself. Mitch immediately thought of the Warden¡¯s soul in the jar that Mook currently possessed in his room.


    Hathgar¡¯s face twisted in disgust as he approached one of the shelves. ¡°Stars. This is¡­feels wrong. Keeping souls? This many? Fer what?¡±


    Sable seemed captivated. She stepped closer to one of the jars, fingers hesitating above the glass. ¡°There¡¯s so much energy here,¡± she said. ¡°So much¡­pain. If they¡¯ve been here all this time, that means that my soul¡­¡± she trailed off in thought.


    Mitch¡¯s stomach churned. Souls stirred in his core. Not with excitement but with fear. They recoiled from Mitch.


    He reached out to touch one of the jars but stopped short. A memory unfolded in his mind, vivid and unbidden.


    Another him. Another holder of this body.


    He stood in this very room, surrounded by these jars. The souls weren¡¯t just trapped. They were endlessly tormented by the other version of him. Twisted cried of anguish echoed through the chamber as his past self siphoned not his suffering, but theirs. Tranforming it into power. The memory was fragmented, but the madness was clear. The previous inhabitant of his body had been consumed by the practice, endlessly strengthening himself, his mind and self unraveling as he fed on their agony. Agony¡¯s Embrace apparently allowed Mitch to tap into any agony, not just his own.


    Mitch shuddered as the memory faded. All that power. And the man had still failed.


    I¡¯m here in this body, aren¡¯t I?


    Galadrith¡¯s voice whispered in his mind. ¡°Our enemies, reduced to strength in your hands. A fate for those who oppose us, perhaps? Why hesitate?¡±


    ¡°Because it didn¡¯t work apparently,¡± Mitch answered aloud and then shook his head as the thought came out immediately. ¡°And I¡¯m not a torturer.¡±


    Hathgar glanced at him. ¡°Good. Because if ye¡¯re just going te¡¯ start torturing others fer power, I¡¯m out. Gotta be a better way.¡±


    Sable tilted her head, her mismatched eyes locking onto his. ¡°This place¡­it¡¯s a tool. Just like the Abyss does, you may have to use this room as intended. We don¡¯t know how big this place is, it could hold many more things like this.¡±


    Mitch didn¡¯t respond. He turned away from the jars, forcing himself to focus. She was right, they had only just begun to scratch the surface of the Estate.


    ¡°I need to think about this later,¡± he said firmly. ¡°Let¡¯s move.¡±


    He stepped back toward the threshold, letting his mind shift to the Library. Anything was better than the Dungeon for now.


    As he crossed, the oppressive air of the Soul Chamber vanished, replaced by the dry but more inviting atmosphere of the Library.


    It worked. They could move freely to different sections of the Estate.


    Need to figure out just how much there is to this place.


    Mitch felt the myriad of pulls in all directions. He wasn¡¯t sure what rooms he needed to go to, but countless tugs pinged him from every direction.


    More things to explore.


    ¡°We¡¯ve confirmed it,¡± Mitch said as Hathgar and Sable crossed into the Library behind him. ¡°We can move between different rooms. But how many rooms are there? If there¡¯s food? I don¡¯t think¡­everyone will want to eat just Bugs.¡±


    Hathgar and Sable grumbled in agreement. The dwarf rubbed his stomach with his palm. ¡°Aye, lad. A proper feast¡¯d do us some good. If this place has whiskey, surely it¡¯s got bacon.¡±


    Sable added quietly as she scanned the shelves, ¡°This building isn¡¯t just a refuge. It¡¯s important. There¡¯s things here that you need to find, Mitch. Its¡­alive, somehow.¡±


    Mitch agreed. He felt it too, the hum of the Estate brushing against his mind like a whisper urging him to explore deeper.


    And then it came.


    A tug more violent than the others. A deep, instinctual pull in his core that stirred the souls within him. It was more subtle than the key¡¯s pull had been, but no less powerful. It called to him. Trying to show him something deeper, hidden within the Estate.


    Relics.


    The word came to his mind. Without memories, he could feel them on the tip of his tongue. Trying to show him where to go and what he might find.


    ¡°There¡¯s something big hiding.¡± He said to them.


    Hathgar raised an eyebrow at him. ¡°What kind o¡¯ something?¡±


    ¡°Relics,¡± Mitch said simply. ¡°There has to be relics hiding somewhere in here.¡±


    Sable¡¯s expression turned into thoughtful agreement, but before she could reply, a sharp, eager voice cut through his Abyssal Bind.


    ¡°Mitchell!¡± Mook¡¯s mental voice carried excitement and wariness. ¡°Come to the Transfer Room immediately! We¡¯ve found it! The banging. A strange man is on the other side. We cannot understand the words he says, but we can piece out ¡®Mitch,¡¯.¡±


    Mitch froze. Someone was knocking on a door in the Estate. He wasn¡¯t sure who it was, but something in his body¡¯s memories told him that if the noise came from inside the Estate, it was likely safe. Mostly. There seemed to be caveats to that statement. However, it felt right, especially if it was coming from the Transfer Room.


    Varak¡¯s presence calmly brushed against the connection.


    ¡°Mmm. Loud. Very loud presence. Arrogant¡­smell good though,¡± she added.


    Mitch turned to Hathgar and Sable. ¡°They found the source of the knocking. And apparently, it¡¯s not a thing. It¡¯s a someone.¡±


    ¡°Wonderful. A knock from a door inside. Makes total sense, aye.¡± Hathgar flexed his arm into a hammer.


    Mitch stepped toward the room''s threshold. He let the thought of the Transfer Room guide him, the air shifting and beginning to pull him in.


    Whatever, or whoever, waited on the other side, he was ready to face them.

 Chapter 50: Handsome Neighbour

    The Transfer room welcomed Mitch like a forgotten secret.


    The wide space stretched, with a distant stone ceiling and burnt-out candles floating in the still air. Rather than the seamless marble floors, it was tiled.


    Dozens of distinct doors lined the stone walls. Some were simple worn wood, others gleaming and polished. A few were twisted and unmistakably demonic. These last wafted potent menace, almost daring anyone to touch their handles.


    Above each door, tiny stones lay implanted into the stone. Most were dull. A few glowed green, and Mitch¡¯s attention was drawn to a familiar door where someone banged on the other side.


    Memories bubbled up and around his mind¡ªfragments of stepping into this waystation before. Of passing through these doors into places beyond his current comprehension. Due to his reborn nature, the sensation wasn¡¯t unfamiliar, and it only filled him with motivated curiosity.


    Where do, or did all these lead?


    He knew the answer unconsciously. Well, his body did. It had been in front of him when he locked the front door. However these passages worked, Mitch instinctively knew that he could open the doors to other places across the Abyss, Shadowreach, and if he believed his body, places he didn¡¯t yet know. Be it the front door for main locations, or connected through the Transfer Room, Mitch could pass through these thresholds, and exit where he chose.


    But those lights. Most are extinguished. I need to figure out how to get them to work again, and where some of these lead.


    ¡°Loud,¡± Varak gestured towards the banging door from her seated position in the center of the room, where she crunched loudly and slurped a bug. ¡°Very loud. Smell¡­ arrogant.¡±


    Mook skittered from one door to another, his overgrown claws clicking against the black stone. His voice carried awe and urgency. ¡°These connections¡­ they¡¯re alive,¡± he said, inspecting a demonic door before retreating from its aura. ¡°Mitchell, I must learn this Skill! This Estate¨Cit¡¯s a treasure trove! Knowledge! Portals! Doors to¡­ places!¡± His excitement cracked through their bond.


    ¡°But first,¡± he added pleadingly. ¡°The Library. You must allow me to go there. Immediately!¡±


    Mitch smiled at his excitement despite the incessant banging from the green-lit door. The presence there, it felt familiar.


    ¡°Mook, you can go whenever you want. I¡¯m not keeping you here, you know.¡± Mitch answered, startling the creature.


    Mook paused and straightened. ¡°Ah. But I would like to see who is here first. Who knocks on this grand Estate!?¡± His beady eyes snapped to the green-lit door.


    Hathgar grumbled, stepping closer to the banging door. ¡°Stars, this door looks awful familiar. Gnawin¡¯ at me brain.¡± He leaned in, sniffing the air. ¡°Aye, familiar. Smells like booze. Bad booze.¡±


    Sable scanned each door. She lingered before a demonic looking one, flexing her hand as if prepping a Fracture. ¡°These doors,¡± she said, ¡°they lead somewhere deeper. Don¡¯t they? I can feel it.¡±


    Mitch could feel it too. Certain doors didn¡¯t feel human, leading to somewhere deeper into the Abyss. ¡°Doors to deeper down.¡± He answered her. His memories didn¡¯t tell where they went, but he was sure of his answer.


    Sable snorted and turned back to the banging door. ¡°Well? Let¡¯s see who¡¯s here. I¡¯d like to search for food later, much as I like never feeling hungry or thirsty from your heals¡­,¡± she trailed off while smiling at him.


    Mitch returned her smile and stepped towards the door. The banging grew louder, and he could just make out a high-pitched squeal behind the rusted metal.


    With one fluid motion, he swung it open, the sound of the banging cutting off abruptly.


    Mitch found himself staring into a familiar space¨Cthe hallway of Robin¡¯s Club Mythos.


    The gothic interior greeted him with its dim lighting, shadowy corners, and floating chandeliers. Just beyond, Mitch could see the club¡¯s interior. Dancefloor, couches, empty picture frames.


    ¡°Blood and balls.¡± Hathgar rumbled.


    And there, standing at the threshold, was Robin himself.


    His form glowed faintly, edges blurred as if he wasn¡¯t fully tethered to the physical plane. Robin¡¯s too-wide grin spread across his face, and his slicked-back black hair shined under the club¡¯s light. Dressed in his signature blue suit, he looked every bit the ethereal, excitable host Mitch remembered.


    Robin¡¯s hand dropped from the doorframe. ¡°Ah! My boy!¡± he exclaimed, his high voice full of amusement. ¡°You¡¯ve done it! You¡¯ve found the Estate! I knew my hint about relics would do you good.¡±


    Mitch was dumbstruck. He wasn¡¯t entirely sure how he felt about this reunion. On the bright side, at least they could leave the Abyss.


    Hathgar¡¯s jaw dropped, and he pointed an accusing finger at Robin. ¡°Stars! You!¡± he barked. ¡°You still owe me a week¡¯s pay, you thievin¡¯ ghostly bastard!¡± Despite the accusation, Hathgar meant it as a greeting.


    Robin¡¯s grin widened impossibly far. ¡°Hathgar, my dear former barback, always a pleasure. Perhaps not Credits, but will ale do?¡± He held up a hand before continuing. ¡°Don¡¯t worry¨CI have better stock now. If you haven¡¯t already found the cellar?¡±


    ¡°Damned right we found the bloody cellar! Even got a gnome who can make wine! And a bloody rock elf, can ye¡¯ believe that?¡± Hathgar laughed and threw a thumb over his shoulder. ¡°Even made friends with some fookin¡¯ Abyssal creatures!¡±Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    Robin didn¡¯t wait for an invitation. He glided through the door, his posture exuding confidence as he took in the Transfer Room. He looked over the vast space, the burnt-out candles and the many doors.


    ¡°I¡¯ve missed this place,¡± he said, spreading his arms wide, ¡°a marvel. A wonder, truly. Do you know how many days I¡¯ve been knocking? Weeks! Practically a month! Yet¡­here you are, rather quick, I must say.¡±


    Been here before?


    ¡°Robin, what is going on? We can just leave through the door?¡± Mitch asked, surprised.


    ¡°Why yes, my dear boy. Back into Shadowreach, where the Grimmers have all but taken over the streets and the hordes are breaking through the Front. But we must get something else if we want to come back.¡± Robin answered while smiling.


    ¡°Urgar and Warrick? Crae? Have you heard anything?¡± Sable¡¯s question cut through Robin¡¯s casual tone.


    ¡°Who? Crae is at the Front himself, battling back the horde. I didn¡¯t even hear anything about your disappearance, Sable. Really, it is mayhem in the city. But we have bigger things to attend to!¡± Robin answered darkly.


    Mitch watched Sable¡¯s face break into a bigger frown at that. He wanted to reach out for her, to comfort her.


    ¡°Bloody need some fresh air. Stinks down here, even in this castle. Ye¡¯ wouldn¡¯t believe how ripe Mitch gets. And me Ma! She must be worried sick about me!¡± Hathgar started towards the door.


    ¡°Ah, Hathgar. Always one to rush. Wait but a moment, you won¡¯t want to miss this.¡± Robin responded with mystery.


    That stopped Hathgar in his tracks. The dwarf looked over his shoulder with squinted eyes, grumbled, and came back, muttering about ¡°friends and decent enough cellar to stay,¡±.


    Mitch wasn¡¯t bothered to stay and explore the Estate. He felt comfortable within its walls, and he honestly needed a moment away from the constant fights. If Crae hadn¡¯t even sounded the alarm at Sable¡¯s disappearance, the Front could wait until he learned more. There was a lot to figure out. What to do with the Abyssal prisoners back near the Pit. How this Estate worked. What his next steps against the Abyss were.


    One thing at a time.


    ¡°You¡¯ve been here before?¡± Mitch asked Robin.


    ¡°Of course! You think I was always like this? In this form? I helped with some of the more¡­inventive additions.¡± Robin ran his hands over his faint body while winking. He turned and looked at Mook. ¡°And who might you be? A being of the dark.¡±


    Mook nervously cleared his throat. ¡°I am a Scholar, ethereal one. Mook. Mitchell has wisely granted me the honor of¡­accompanying him. This place. It is extraordinary. But I am pleased you do not see me as just a monster.¡± Mook finished and bowed his head.


    ¡°Monster? Your form does not define you,¡± Robin chuckled, giving Mook a small bow. ¡°A scholar no less! That will be most useful.¡± His gaze shifted to Varak, who watched the conversation while munching on a bug she had pulled from somewhere. ¡°And you,¡± he said. ¡°My dear. Who are you?¡±


    Varak tilted her head. ¡°Varak. Mmmm. Not bad, ghost. Watch¡­your step. Dusty.¡±


    Robin laughed. ¡°A being of undiscovered power and loyalty¨Ca rare combination. Keep her close, Mitchell. She will serve you well.¡±


    Sable watched Robin warily. The ghost noticed her scrutiny and turned his attention to her. ¡°You,¡± he said as he glided closer. ¡°Been a while, Sable. I hope you are well. You feel it now, don¡¯t you? The Abyss. A result of being his First Follower, perhaps? Hmm?¡±


    Sable stiffened. Robin had been the one to craft Sable¡¯s Patchling form. ¡°Robin. Of course you have more to do with this.¡± She said through gritted teeth.


    ¡°Do not beguile me, my dear,¡± Robin answered her tone. ¡°Would you rather I left you without the opportunity that lays before you now?¡± His tone became harsher, more serious than his usual blas¨¦. ¡°You might not agree with my methods, but now you stand a chance to find your soul. Would you rather I left your found body undisturbed? Unless you think it better I just allow the Abyss to take. And take. And take. Hmm?¡±


    She didn¡¯t bite back and backed down.


    Robin chuckled knowingly, and turned to Mitch. No, he focussed on Galadrith. ¡°And the sword,¡± he said reverently. ¡°A marvel. To lock your soul to metal and serve another. One final time.¡±


    The words latched onto Mitch¡¯s neck.


    ¡°What? One final time? What do you mean?¡± Mitch asked with a tight voice.


    Robin¡¯s eyes lingered on Galadrith with a mixture of admiration. The sword answered instead of the ghost.


    ¡°This man is powerful,¡± Galadrith said. ¡°To hold onto one¡¯s soul, to keep it bound in ethereal form¡­It requires immense will. To lay claim to your own essence after death. It is a feat few can achieve.¡±


    Mitch tightened his grip on the soul sword. ¡°And you?¡± he asked, voice meant for the blade alone. ¡°What does he mean?¡±


    There was a pause before Galadrith answered. ¡°I am your blade,¡± the sword answered finally. ¡°Your soul sword. My fate is tied to yours. I told you this¡­ To wield me is to carry both my strength and my burden. Together, we cut through the Abyss. I will not go back to the Abyss. We win, or I die forever.¡±


    The words didn¡¯t bother Mitch. What choice did he have? What choice did Gal have?


    ¡°Ah yes,¡± Robin said to everyone. ¡°You have so much yet to uncover. Enough sadness!¡± He focussed back onto Mitch with a maniacal look. ¡°Now, where are my relics? I¡¯ve been holding your room for a month! We had a deal, Mitchell.¡± Robin waggled his eyebrows at Mitch.


    The word hit Mitch like lightning. Relics.


    It stirred something deep in his core. The souls within writhed too, echoing the pull of the word.


    The Estate undoubtedly held relics. Powerful artifacts he could use against the Abyss.


    Robin watched Mitch¡¯s reaction with amusement. ¡°It¡¯s time. To get the most important relic of all. The Relic room. Shall we?¡±


    Mitch hesitated and turned toward the doors lining the Transfer Room. Each one whispered with possibility. He stared at the green-lit door behind Robin, then on the demonic doors. But it wasn¡¯t those that his mind lingered on.


    There was no polished red door for Mathilda¡¯s in the Transfer Room. No trace of Mathilda¡¯s call. The absence of the door bothered him. She had led him here. With her key. With her fragmented memories. With Rex.


    Where is she?


    He would ask about her later. Not in front of Sable.


    Mitch saw the Estate in a new light. Redirecting him to new paths and possibilities. But the lack of answers regarding Mathilda left an ache from his body.


    ¡°The relic room, then,¡± Mitch said, his voice steady. Without any of them knowing, he had locked away the anxiety that was mounting into Devoid. It was his first gift in this world he now inhabited.


    He needed to keep a level head, and this was not the time for his mind to run amok. It was Mathilda¡¯s first gift to him, and it felt fitting to use.


    He gave Robin, and then everyone else a curt nod before turning back to the hallway before them.


    There¡¯s time for that later. For now¡­


    Mitch walked up to the threshold, the thought of undiscovered relics guiding him.


    For the first time, the thought pushed back, as if the Estate was pushing against his request to transfer to the Relic Room.

 Chapter 51: Unveiled

    A giant, encased cathedral that resembled an unmaintained greenhouse was not what Mitch had expected. Shelves of relics, artifacts of power, slumbering weapons, rings of influence, even withered bodies, or a secret horde of Abyssal creatures is what he anticipated.


    The site stole Mitch¡¯s breath. The entire room was alive. A blend of Abyssal and non Abyssal abundance.


    Ambient glow suffused the space, sourced not from glowstones or magics but from the room itself. Plants¨Cvivid and strange¨Cthrived in every crevice of stone.


    Abyssal flowers with petals black as midnight curled against green vines, shooting out alive and reaching directly from the rock. Blossoms wide as a handspan throbbed with life, and thick veins of nectar dripped down their stalks.


    Interwoven among the Abyssal flora were roses vibrant and untouched by corruption. Ferns and wildflowers swayed gently from a mysterious breeze.


    A river ran lazily through the stone floor. Its water looked perfect and reflected the fauna like a mirror. Birds sang from branches of trees, standard and Abyssal, that stretched to the vaulted ceiling. Mitch even spotted tiny Abyssal mice scurrying and eating.


    The air felt different here¨Clush, sweet, and tinged with the mineral scent of the Abyss.


    Hathgar broke the revenant silence. ¡°Birds,¡± he said with awe. ¡°Haven¡¯t seen em¡¯ since¡­ since I was a boy¡­ not non Abyssal ones, that is.¡± His voice cracked.


    Varak was already bounding forward and darting between the flowers. She sniffed at the flowers and grabbed their stalks carefully as she hummed. ¡°Mmm,¡± she crooned, ¡°sweet¡­alive. Very not bad.¡±


    Mook stood frozen at the threshold. ¡°How?¡±he finally rasped. ¡°How can non-Abyssal flora grow here? There¡¯s no natural light!¡± He muttered furiously as he studied the grass underfoot. ¡°Unnatural. No. Too natural. Alive.¡±


    Sable stepped forward, her mismatched eyes wide in wonder. Finally, she managed, ¡°It¡¯s¡­beautiful.¡±


    Robin watched them all with his ever-present grin. ¡°Ah, yes,¡± he said, his voice light. ¡°Isn¡¯t it magnificent? A bastion of power¡­ and life.¡±


    Mitch couldn¡¯t speak or move. His attention swept over the room. He hadn¡¯t seen a living plant since he was murdered.


    But his attention was drawn to the center of the room. Where a raised dias sat beneath a canopy of fruiting vines. Upon it rested something¨Ca shape he couldn¡¯t make out, but it pulled at him, harder than anything ever had. Harder than the key. Harder than the draw of the Abyssal power.


    His steps carried him forward before he could think to stop. Rex leapt off his body, leaving his scarred and muscular frame exposed.


    The hound landed in a ripple of crackling purple shadow and sniffed at the flowers, tail wagging as he explored. But he could tell Rex wanted to explore the dias as well.


    At the far end of the room, a chair loomed. It¡¯s back stretched high, and it wasn¡¯t carved from stone but from a black material that shimmered like oil under stars. It watched over the space. Commanding, silent, and waiting.


    Mitch¡¯s heart pounded as he neared the dias in his haste. The object came into view.


    A simple, unadorned piece of black fabric. It wasn¡¯t grand or ornate, but its presence was undeniable. Power radiated from it, attempting to be subtle but so overwhelming it felt like an impossible wave. It sat waiting on the dais, untouched by time, and haphazardly placed like a discarded jacket.


    Galadrith rumbled. ¡°Of course,¡± he said, voice revenant. ¡°I should have known. This place has been waiting for you all along.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right, Sword,¡± Robin cackled at the back where he watched their wonder. ¡°This is what you¡¯ve been searching for. The most important relic of all. All are welcome, as are all followers, worshippers, relics, souls, and allies. But this is what you truly need in your quest.¡±


    The souls were restless, pushing him forward, offering themselves up for a Soul Sacrifice so that he could just get there quicker. Water flowed around the dias, and Mitch stepped into it, bathing himself up to his knees.


    His body remembered this. It had been here before. But Mitch¨Cthis version of him¨Chad not. And yet, as he stared at the piece of fabric, such a simple thing, it felt right. He had been brought here, to Shadowreach, to the Pit, and now to this spot in the Estate, for a reason.


    He could handle the burden.


    Since he had broken free of the PIt, he had ignored the ever increasing debt. With each notification that it was increasing, he shoved it aside. A problem for tomorrow. Now, for the first time since he and Sable had been subjected to the torment of the Warden, he pulled it up.


    Burden: Pay the Abyssal Debt


    The Abyss accepts all forms of payment.


    Status: IncompleteActive Debt: -986,326*


    Interest: 666/dayCurrency: Souls, Flesh, CreditsStolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    Please visit a Collection to make a payment.


    Do you give up?


    Settlement Amount: 353 Souls, 335 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 896 Flesh.


    Mitch looked upon the final question of the Burden, and laughed. It was a belly laugh, and felt almost maniacal.


    It was absurd to think that he would give up now. To end his life, and send his soul down to the maw of the Abyss, or worse. When it was sitting right in front of him. Latch another victim to this body? When he had already defeated a lesser minion of the Warden, claimed a Mantle of Defiance, started his army in his squad and the waiting prisoners near the Pit? When he had only just begun his fight? Brought here by a ghost? That had helped build this Estate?


    Without thinking, Mitch smiled, reached down, and pet Rex, who lapped his tongue at his master.


    The Abyss must be joking.


    Even here, in the Estate, with it waiting right in front of him, he felt the pull of the Abyss. It was watching. Forever looking with unseen eyes with its gargantuan and festering power. Grimmers running rabid? The Front breaking under the surge of Abyssal monstrosities?


    The Abyss meant to break the world. And him. Into a giant hellscape through addictive subterfuge, recycling souls, and breaking the spirit of the population''s mythos. They were all afraid of death. Of having their souls taken down to the maw and recycled into abominations that were sent to fight their loved ones.


    Hathgar was afraid. Sable was terrified of what was happening to her soul. Galadrith entombed himself to metal for a chance. Varak stuck herself to Mitch for a hope of her children having a better life. Patty joined in for a chance of protection. Leonard¡­ didn¡¯t seem afraid of anything, including a brooding elf. Everyone was so damned afraid.


    Mitch wasn¡¯t afraid. Not anymore. He had forged himself in his past life. And in this one, during his inhabitation of Mitch, he had forged himself again.


    ¡°Is that¨C? Fookin¡¯ Traveler. Tall, strong, now this? Bah, now I have to stick around!.¡± Hathgar choked out.


    ¡°Mitch, take it. It¡¯s yours. I can feel it. Claim it.¡± Sable barked out too loudly. He couldn¡¯t help but smile. His first follower. A Patchling. He would have to save her soul.


    Oh yes. I¡¯m coming for you, Abyss.


    He swore he felt the pull of the Abyss rumble back at his thoughts.


    ¡°Mmm. Master¡­ after all. Knew¡­ it. I prepare¡­feast of Bugs! Bug casserole. Yes!¡± Varak said with her broken voice as she clapped her hands.


    ¡°It can¡¯t be¡­ I¡­,¡± Mook was at a loss for words.


    Mitch looked up to the throne at the back of the room. He was close enough to see the sparkles of what he thought was shifting light. It wasn¡¯t swirling.


    Nails were embedded into the throne in a spiraling pattern. Its occupant would be stabbed as they sat and looked over the space.


    Fitting. Whoever put that there had a sick sense of humor.


    Mitch smiled to himself as he reached out a scarred hand. They were thick, calloused things. But he was used to them now. He had merged with his body.


    Truly, he should have known. His body had been telling him the entire time. With his Skills, with his debt. The answers weren¡¯t all there, but he had finally filled in the massive gaping hole in the twisted puzzle.


    The piece of black fabric wasn¡¯t just fabric.


    He grasped it, and an energy coursed through his body. It wasn¡¯t pain, or power. It was a presence, overwhelming and undeniable.


    He lifted the fabric¨Ca mask¨Cand examined it. Simple, unadorned, and impossibly soft. Just a tube of shimmering black material. It wasn¡¯t ornate or regal, yet Mitch felt the power radiating from it. A declaration that it belonged to him.


    No, he belonged to it.


    The Mask of the Masked Lord.


    Every instinct told him to wear it. His body, his souls, the souls he carried, everything pushed him to put it on. Slowly, Mitch raised the tube of fabric and pulled it over his bleached-white hair.


    The fabric molded to his face, clinging like a second skin. It was as if it had been waiting for this moment. For him.


    The mask settled, exposing only his glowing eyes, which blazed brother than ever, red blanketing the entire Cathedral.


    A notification flooded his mind. But it wasn¡¯t the cold, mechanical tone of the Abyss. This was different. Older and brighter.


    Title Acquired: The Faceless One


    You are faceless. Shrouded, Blessed, and Cursed.


    The Abyss follows you, tempts you, cracks you.


    Face the Abyss. For you are The Faceless One.


    The Mother watches. She hopes and provides. Do not falter.


    The words lit his soul. Pressing down like the depths of an ocean. Mitch staggered, gripping the dais for support.


    Memories crashed into him like a tidal wave.


    The Masked Lord wasn¡¯t just a title. It was him. Every version of this body. Every soul that had inhabited it, every decision made¨Cthis moment had happened before.


    His knees buckled.


    And light exploded from his body. It radiated in waves of black and white, swirling around him in a dance of power.


    The Cathedral trembled, acknowledging the return of its Master.


    The memories wouldn¡¯t stop. Faces, battles, victories, places, failures¨Call blurred together. He saw versions of himself, standing, falling, fighting. Rising. Again. And again. And again.


    And through it all, the Abyss loomed, endless and consuming.


    And then, everything stopped.


    The light snapped back into him like a collapsed star. Mitch stood in front of the dias breathing raggedly. The river rippled around his knees as he took one last shaky step.


    His vision dimmed, his knees gave out, and the world tilted. As he fell, the notification stood at the front of his vision. A brutally white font pressing into him.


    Quest: Destroy the Abyss


    Defeat the Abyss at all costs, undo its dominion, and reclaim the balance of existence.


    The Mother will provide gifts when She can.


    Remember, you asked for resurrection. And you have received it. Do not squander it.


    Status: Incomplete


    Mitch collapsed backward, and fell into the flowing water with a splash.


    Better than piss, he thought, just as everything went black.


    End of Book 1 of Abyssal Curse.

 BK 2: Chapter 1: Get Your Vitamins In

    Management had become Mitch¡¯s full-time job, and he wasn¡¯t even getting paid. In fact, his debt only grew by the day. He knew the Abyss watched and lingered, he felt it reaching, but the Estate protected him. For now.


    Burden: Pay the Abyssal Debt


    The Abyss accepts all forms of payment.


    Status: IncompleteActive Debt: -990,988*


    Interest: 666/dayCurrency: Souls, Flesh, Credits


    Please visit a Collection to make a payment.


    Do you give up?


    He stood in an Abyssal Pod, his body trembling as pain peeled his flesh. The pod surrounding him cracked with life-draining energy and torment. Agony¡¯s Embrace drank deeply of his suffering, strengthening him further, but the torment never ceased.


    Perfect.


    Mitch¡¯s glowing eyes were locked onto the soul jar nearby. It housed the Warden¡¯s soul, angry red essence glowing erratically, slamming against the confines of its glass prison. Around it, shelves of other jarred souls hummed away.


    Even with the pain, Mitch fought to think, trying to meditate, honing his mind as well as his body.


    The temptation clawed at him, the lure of their anguish undeniable. Mitch now knew their pain could feed him. Bolster him. Agony¡¯s Embrace wasn¡¯t limited to his own suffering; it could tap into the agony of others, pushing him beyond limits he hadn¡¯t yet dared to test.


    But the Mother is watching.


    He wasn¡¯t entirely sure who¡ªor what¡ªshe was, but since donning the Mask, Mitch had felt her presence. It was right there, just out of reach, in the periphery of everything around him.


    The Faceless One. The words of the title still echoed in his mind. It wasn¡¯t just a name; it was a mantle, a purpose. Mitch wasn¡¯t just a man fighting the Abyss¡ªhe was a symbol, a sliver of hope against its endless hunger.


    He looked upon the quest.


    Quest: Destroy the Abyss


    Defeat the Abyss at all costs, undo its dominion, and reclaim the balance of existence.


    The Mother will provide gifts when She can.


    Status: Incomplete


    The Mother had promised gifts in the quest he had received right before he passed out. He didn¡¯t know what they would be or when they would come, but the idea nagged at him.


    From the corner of the Dungeon, Rex sprawled lazily, his massive Abyssal frame crackling the same purple of the Pod. His single eye watched Mitch with something close to amusement, the Abyssal hound¡¯s tongue lazily lapping at the air.


    Ever since Rex had devoured the Warden¡¯s ring, chewing it like a treat right off Mitch¡¯s desk, the Shadowshroud had taken on new capabilities. The hound now controlled the Abyssal Pods, able to summon their encasement with a simple prod from Mitch.


    He had been upset at Rex at first, but seeing how beneficial it was to have an on demand workout, his anger had tempered. How could he stay mad at his dog?


    Mitch looked at his corded forearms. The Mantle of Defiance thrummed with stored capability, a literal invulnerability he could dawn like a cloak when the time came.


    The soul jars whispered to him again. Mitch shook his head and turned his back on them.


    The Mother watches. She hopes and provides. Do not falter.


    Yeah, no pressure.


    A distorted pulse echoed through his Abyssal Bind connection. Varak¡¯s friendly presence seeped into his mind.


    ¡°Minion in tunnels¡­say snake scout. No threat¡­for now. Eaten. Not tasty.¡± Varak¡¯s tone was confident. As a Guardian of Wills, Mitch had passed control of a large portion of Abyssal Bugs to her, called more when needed, and had even given her control of the less intelligent Abyssal creatures under his control. ¡°Am feed prisoners. Bugs. Is speak¡­to prison Leader.¡±


    Leader of the prison?


    Mitch couldn¡¯t help but smile. He¡¯d grown to appreciate Varak, even if ¡°bug casseroles¡± served in ornate silverware she had found in the Estate wouldn¡¯t have been his first choice for diplomacy.


    Through the Bind, he caught flashes of her efforts¨Cthe Abyssal prison and Varak¡¯s children throwing Bugs to creatures who frothed at the mouth. There were no results yet, but he sensed her progress, and just as clearly, her growing impatience.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    ¡°You¡¯re doing good work, Varak. Keep it up.¡± Mitch thought towards her, and he felt her acknowledgement.


    The disgruntled sword broke through.


    ¡°Leonard is a disgrace,¡± Galadrith repeated. ¡°Stealing fruit from the Cathedral? That energy wasn¡¯t his to claim. It dishonors the Masked Lord.¡±


    ¡°You need to loosen up, Gal,¡± Mitch answered. ¡°Leonard¡¯s not exactly the most traditional of people. And honestly? It was better that he experimented on himself than me accidentally eating something poisonous. It''s just energy anyways, I have that with my Skill. Useful, yes, but it will keep growing.¡±


    Mitch knew this implicitly. The Cathedral held more capabilities, he was sure of it, he just needed to find the time to experiment. The whole Estate did.


    Rex gave a low growl, almost as if to say, You¡¯re done now, time to get out.


    The Pod disintegrated into smoke. He healed himself quickly with some of his Flesh stores, sealing wounds into scars. Adding more to his body¡¯s collection.


    His body felt shaper, honed by the pain. ¡°Not bad,¡± Mitch muttered, brushing a hand through his damp, bleach-white hair. Rex¡¯s massive tail thumped once before shooting over in a flow of black smoke to sit on Mitch as a swirling t-shirt.


    Settlement Amount: 353 Souls, 335 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 821(-3) Flesh.


    Galadrith¡¯s red glow pulsed faintly on his back, a sign of his disapproval. ¡°Tradition is what keeps order, Mitchell. And order is what separates power from chaos. Mark my words¨Cchaos invites the Abyss.¡±


    Mitch rolled his eyes but said nothing. He couldn¡¯t disagree with the sword¡¯s sentiment, but chaos followed Mitch regardless of his intentions. Robin and Leonard had of course gotten along swingingly, and thankfully the ghost club owner had left back to the club.


    An ache in his chest pulled his thoughts elsewhere. Sable. Mitch reached out, searching for her presence, but all he felt was distance. It appeared there was a limit on the reach of his Skills.


    She was too far¨C-within Shadowreach, investigating Warrick, Urgar, and the state of the city and the Front. Before she left with Robin, she said she would be back soon. It had been three days, and Mitch grew impatient for her return.


    His memories flashed from when he had placed the Mask on. They had shown him the Pit and the prison before the Abyss had consumed them.


    Once, it had been his body¡¯s bastion of power, now it was hollowed out by corruption. Humans, elves, giants, dwarves, and unsurprisingly, Abyssal creatures stood side by side, roaring his presence. And his power.


    Time to rebuild.


    The Gluttonous Ones lingered in his thoughts. He didn¡¯t know the full details¨Chis body remembered fragments¨Cbut he knew enough. They were vicious, disgusting, perverse, and the perfect target for his growing wrath. As were the Sect of Dread.


    He would pay them a visit soon. They were a worthy enemy to focus his attention on. Once Mook figured out how to get the door portals working again.


    Mitch brushed his thoughts through the Abyssal Bind. The pulse was faint, then sharpened. He felt the scholar¡¯s fervent energy, buzzing and crackling like an overcharged wire.


    Mook was still in the Library. The minion hadn¡¯t left in a week, or at all, begging Mitch to burn Flesh to heal him and keep his energy up. Mitch caught flashes through the Bind: towering shelves, mountains of books and scrolls. There was Mook, hunched and mouth breathing over a tome nearly his size, turning pages while crunching on one of Varak¡¯s ¡®bug casseroles.¡±


    ¡°Doors, doors¡­The Mother¡­of course she¡¯s real! Stupid¡­Power¡­¡± Mook¡¯s mutterings spilled through the Bind. Mitch could feel the scholar¡¯s obsession with the Estate¡¯s secrets.


    ¡°Progress, Mook?¡± Mitch thought through the connection.


    Mook was startled for a moment, then sent back. ¡°Yes! But slow. These doors¨CI¡¯m onto something. I¡¯m so close I can taste it!¡± Mook¡¯s voice buzzed with excitement, but Mitch felt the edge of frustration underneath. The scholar wasn¡¯t used to questions he couldn¡¯t answer in some way. The Abyssal Scholar turned back to his tome and cut the connection off.


    A loud crack echoed through the confines of the Dungeon, followed by a familiar bickering.


    ¡°I¡¯m telling you, it¡¯s the Garden!¡± Leonard¡¯s voice was still laced with unspent energy from his pilfering fruit from the Cathedral. ¡°It¡¯s magnificent! He needs to see it now!¡±


    Hathgar¡¯s gruff voice followed. ¡°Bah! May the Abyss take me with this one. It¡¯s a Pen! Not a Garden! The lot of ye¡¯ are acting like it¡¯s some kind of elven paradise. We¡¯ve got enough names. You¡¯ll thank me when this list is right and proper.¡±


    ¡°Properly boring,¡± Leonard shot back, striding into the Dungeon with a grin and swagger.


    Trailing just behind was Patty, her posture relaxed. The once-nervous woman moved with confidence, her eyes fixed on Leonard like a watchful shadow. Mitch couldn¡¯t help but notice how close she stayed to him. The two had become inseparable, and spent far too much time in their shared quarters.


    ¡°Boss!¡± Leonard called out. ¡°You have to see it! I¡¯m not joking this time. We can use this! It¡¯s amazing. Perfect for my Skills.¡±


    Hathgar, looking exasperated, stepped forward and shoved a piece of parchment from the Library into Mitch¡¯s hands. The squat script on it was a mess of hastily scribbled names.


    ¡°Look at this,¡± Hathgar growled. ¡°The gnome keeps coming up with these fanciful names for every bloody room we catalog. Here¡¯s my list. Simple, practical! Sensible. The Pen¨Cwhat it should be called. None o¡¯ this ¡®Garden¡¯ nonsense.¡±


    Mitch scanned the growing list. There were dozens of Rooms in the Estate that they had found. He was excited and hopeful to explore them all. ¡°The Pen?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Aye,¡± Hathgar said firmly. ¡°It¡¯s got fences. Holds things. Simple.¡±


    Leonard threw up his crooked arm in despair. Mitch had offered to heal it, but the gnome had refused. ¡°It¡¯s not a pen! It¡¯s a Garden! You¡¯ll see. Just. Come. On!¡± He grabbed Mitch¡¯s arm, trying to drag him forward.


    Hathgar grumbled but followed along back to the threshold of the Dungeon. Leonard entered first, disappearing in front of Mitch¡¯s eyes and off his grip on Rex.


    Whatever they had found, Mitch could already tell it was going to be eventful.


    Without thinking of a room to travel to, as it would allow him to follow wherever Leonard was going, Mitch stepped through the door, and was transferred to the Garden.

 BK 2: Chapter 2: Gardens and Leeches

    The Garden welcomed them with quiet, eerie potential.


    A rectangular room stretched distantly before them. It was perfectly symmetrical and less finely carved out than the others. Stone basins neatly lined the floors, filled with dark, ripe mulch. Circular glowstones sat organized on the ceiling in neat rows. They didn¡¯t flicker, and cast steady, warm yellow light throughout the entire space.


    The air was damp, carrying the faint tang of freshly turned earth. This was a room waiting to grow. A place that could feed armies, bolster strength, and harbor life.


    At the far end, Mitch saw fenced pens waiting. The stone barriers looked sturdy, practical, and the large rock shack looked well formed.


    A place for small fowl perhaps?


    Mitch knew from his memories that the Abyss also had its own twisted version of game meat for eating.


    Shallow pools of still water glistened in the corners, refilled by unseen channels.


    Leonard was already moving, the energy from his stolen fruit still sparking his steps. With a snap of his fingers from his broken arm, he summoned rows of life. ¡°I needed dirt for my growth Skills. My turn to be cool!¡± He yelled with glee.


    Vegetables sprouted¨Cwheat, corn, squash, cabbage¨Call flourishing in vivid color. ¡°Look at this!¡± he beamed, voice brimming with pride.


    Patty followed, brushing her hands on the edge of the stone basins. The rock melted and shifted under her hands, molding into better shapes.


    Hathgar crossed his arms, unimpressed on principle. ¡°Aye,¡± he muttered. ¡°Not bad. But we still need meat. Can¡¯t right live forever on bugs and greens alone. Cellars nice, buh¡­some meat would be too.¡±


    Mitch¡¯s mind was already racing ahead. It wasn¡¯t enough to simply grow food. While impressive, if he wanted to take the Abyss head on, he would have to sustain an army.


    Rex¡¯s tail extended out from his shirt form and wagged. In the blink of an eye, the Shadowshroud peeled away from Mitch¡¯s body and shot across the Garden. The hound quickly found himself rolling in the basins of mud.


    The effect was immediate. As Rex rolled between the neat rows of vegetables, the plants nearest to him withered. Their vibrant greens dulled, stalks drooped, and life drained into the black mass of his form. Mitch suspected it was the result of Rex finally absorbing the Leeching Spine from the Mass Monster.


    Rex paused, sniffed at a rotting squash, and wagged his tail as if pleased with himself.


    Leonard threw his hands in the air. ¡°What in the Stars is he doing! My crops! How am I supposed to make Patty a squash spaghetti?¡± Patty cackled in response.


    Hathgar pointed at Rex accusingly. ¡°That¡¯s it! No mer snuggling him.¡±


    ¡°Relax,¡± Mitch laughed as he ran after Rex, who sniffed and withered another row of corn. As Mitch approached, he knew he wouldn¡¯t be affected by his dog¡¯s new ability. ¡°It¡¯s part of his nature. He doesn¡¯t know any better.¡±


    Leonard sputtered while Patty laughed at the gnome. ¡°Doesn''t know better? He just¡­sucked in it¡¯s life! WIth his aura thing!¡±


    Mitch knelt and patted Rex¡¯s head as the hound looked up at him with a single innocent eye. ¡°We¡¯ll work on it,¡± Mitch said, more amused than serious. Rex¡¯s tail wagged harder as he wilted yet another squash.


    As Leonard muttered about abyssal pests ruining his genius, Mitch¡¯s attention shifted to the shack and fenced areas at the back of the Garden.


    The stone pens were sturdy and well-designed, though currently empty. The shack, simple and practical and large, seemed large enough to house hundreds of creatures.


    Livestock. Horses? Something Abyssal?


    He glanced back at his squad. ¡°We¡¯ll need more than crops,¡± Mitch said, half to himself. ¡°Animals. Meat. Horses¡­ ¡°His thoughts trailed off as he considered the potential of the Abyssal creatures his memories had served him. He needed to figure out how to get all of the necessities a functioning force would have. People would only eat Bugs for so long.


    Mitch rose to his feet, brushing off stray dirty from his hands. Leonard was still muttering while Patty tried to calm him down. She was nudging him towards Mitch. With a sigh, the small gnome turned to Mitch in a much better mood.


    ¡°You think that¡¯s impressive? The food and the dog?¡± Leonard said while puffing out his chest. ¡°Watch this.¡±


    He extended a hand, crooked forearm twisting as he focused. The air around him shimmered, and from the dirty sprouted clusters of dark, bulbous mushrooms.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Their caps were black and alive, veined with purple, and their stems twisted in unnatural, almost alive ways.


    Patty stepped closer to examine the new Abyssal growth. ¡°Can¡¯t really be mad at Rex now,¡± she teased. ¡°You¡¯ve got your own dark side.¡±


    Leonard smirked and gave an embarrassed laugh. ¡°It¡¯s all thanks to the big guy here.¡± He gestured at Mitch. ¡°Without him, I would never have met you, my dear¡­ And ever since I became your minion, Mitch, I¡¯ve been able to summon¡­other things. Darker things.¡±


    Galadrith¡¯s voice rumbled from his place on Mitch¡¯s back. ¡°Your influence grows, Mitchell. Guiding your followers toward potent abilities¨Cthis bodes well. The gnome can stay. We will need sustenance for our forces and appetites.¡±


    ¡°This is amazing, Leonard. Truly, we¡¯re going to need this.¡± Mitch said to the gnome with respect.


    ¡°See how useful your Skills are? I told you plants will be helpful.¡± Patty squeezed the gnome¡¯s shoulder.


    Leonard, emboldened by the compliment, raised both hands over one of the pools or waiting water.


    The surface ripple before bubbling, and moments later, slimy, tiny leeches emerged, clinging to the edges of the basin.


    ¡°We don¡¯t want to eat these, of course!¡± Leonard said with mischief in his eye. ¡°But imagine the uses! Leeches are used for healing, and poisons, traps, and other fun¡­substances. At least according to her.¡± He jammed a thumb in Patty¡¯s direction.


    Mitch met her eyes, and Patty gave a small smile and nod before answering. ¡°I might have had some training in Alchemy. I¡¯ll see what I can do with them. Long as I¡¯m sticking around.¡±


    He measured her and nodded. She had just gotten her confidence back, found something in Leonard, and brought potential Skills and knowledge into his fold. He wouldn¡¯t begrudge the fact that she outright refused to become a minion like Leonard. Hathgar hadn¡¯t either.


    ¡°Useful for something, I¡¯m sure,¡± Mitch said said, his tone light but thoughtful. His mind was already spinning with the potential applications of Leonard¡¯s new skills and Patty¡¯s revelation.


    Hathgar groaned. ¡°Keep those slimy bastards away from me. Got enough weird stuff to eat! Meat. I need meat.¡±


    Mitch surveyed the Garden and felt a bubbling sense of pride. This wasn¡¯t just another room in the Estate¡ªit was the beginning of something vital. If he was to bring people into his fold, sustain them, and perhaps finally eat something beyond bugs and scraps, the Garden would be essential. Not just for survival, but for strength.


    The vegetables, leeches, and mushrooms were a start, but they weren¡¯t enough. Meat. Real sustenance. Warriors and his future minions needed more than rations and the fleeting boosts from his Flesh storage.


    Before he could dwell further, a pulse pushed through his Abyssal Bind. Varak¡¯s strange presence buzzed in his mind.


    ¡°Prisoner cell Leader¡­want challenge,¡± she rasped, her excitement crackling through the connection. ¡°Is custom¡­of his people.¡±


    The souls within Mitch¡¯s core stirred instantly, their anticipation bleeding into his own thoughts. A challenge. At last. The monotony of planning and waiting had worn thin. Ever since donning the Mask, inhabiting the body of the Masked Lord, the urge to push forward had been relentless. To carve his path and take a stand against the Abyss.


    The Mother is watching.


    ¡°Finally,¡± he muttered.


    He glanced back at Leonard and Patty. ¡°Keep working on the Garden. Experiment. Hathgar, you¡¯re with me.¡±


    Rex barked sharply and streaked back to Mitch¡¯s side, his shadowy form enveloping him like armor, crackling with eagerness for the coming fight.


    Even Galadrith rumbled with approval. Mitch could practically feel the bloodlust leaking from the soul sword. ¡°A challenge will do us good, Mitchell. Let them see who their true leader shall be.¡±


    Mitch didn¡¯t pause to dwell. With Hathgar trailing behind, grumbling as always, Mitch strode toward the threshold of the Garden, his steps steady, his purpose clear.


    The Lobby greeted him with stark transformation. The black marble floors were polished clean by Varak and the minions who had taken to tidying the Estate slowly. The floating chandelier, now filled with salvaged candles, glowed softly.


    It no longer felt like a cold, abandoned shell. His boots, the same one¡¯s he¡¯d inherited from his body¡¯s last inhabitant, clicked on the floor.


    Hathgar followed in his usual tromp. ¡°Well, this place looks right nice now. Varak really spruced er¡¯ right up, didn¡¯t she?¡±


    Mitch approached the massive front door. where the metal dial was turned to locked. The dial rested firmly in the locked position. They had already discovered that only he, Varak, and Sable could manipulate it. Mitch suspected it was tied to their unique connections to him¡ªSable as his First Follower and Varak as a Guardian of Wills.


    Intricate carvings round the dial represented entrances to other places, or so they thought. They had not experimented on turning the dial to any other position besides locked.


    As he pushed the door open, a realization struck him. He wanted this. The challenge. The opportunity to face an opponent, to prove himself, to show the full scope of his power. It stirred something deep within him.


    A faint smile played on his lips as he stepped forward, his thoughts drifting to the boy he once was.


    Mischa. The scared, awkward kid who was laughed at, ignored, beaten down. A boy he had been ashamed to be for years.


    But Mischa was gone. That pain, those scars¡ªthey had forged something new. Something sharper. Mischa had become Mitch, and Mitch had become the Masked Lord.


    If someone dared to call him out, a creature of the Abyss, or anyone else, they would learn just how far he had come, and where he would go.


    They didn¡¯t know his past. And they would regret every lesson he delivered.


    Lost in thought, Mitch strode with purpose down the shadowed path leading to the Farm, where Butcher¡¯s and the Warden¡¯s oppressive rule had once reigned.


    ¡°Let¡¯s see what this challenge is all about,¡± Mitch said to his friend. Hathgar extended his Abyssal Wrought iron arm into a heavy headed hammer, grunting his agreement.


    Without another word, he pushed open the door to the prison. The heat and smell hit him first, followed by the roars of Abyssal creatures kept under lock.

 BK 2: Chapter 3: Challenger

    The air was thick with blood and decay of the tormented creatures within. Butcher¡¯s mark felt like a permanent fixture over the prison, and Mitch still spotted the dead pigman¡¯s crooked scrawl on the stone.


    From within the cells came their chaotic cries. Abyssal creatures of every grotesque variety snarled, wheezed, and slammed against the iron bars. Some clawed mindlessly, others leaned into the shadows. It was hard not to see only the evil in their forms.


    There were screams, and low growls, and the occasional sound of flesh tearing as the captives turned on one another in frustration and hunger. Mitch had Varak keep a steady stream of Bugs. But many of these creatures craved only flesh.


    The souls within Mitch thrummed eagerly, vibrating his core. They pushed at him, urging him towards the call of the challenge.


    Hathgar¡¯s heavy boots clanged against the stone as he came to a halt beside Mitch. ¡°Bloody right mess, this is,¡± he grumbled. ¡°But efficient, I¡¯ll give it that. You sure you want to slowly bring these things into the fold? Varak and Mook, and the others, they¡¯re alright, but these?¡±


    He pointed towards a cage where a spindly creature drooled at them. ¡°That one ain¡¯t fit for anything but nightmares.¡±


    Mitch took in the prison while he summoned Abyssal Mice to search for Varak with a mental command. They emerged from their hiding spots and scurried off in search of Varak and her children.


    Minions: Abyssal Fodder: 4, Abyssal Bugs: 3089, Mook, Abyssal Mice: 5


    Followers: Sable (First Follower), Leonardo XI


    Guardians of Will: Varak


    Galadrith¡¯s voice rumbled. ¡°Do not underestimate what the Abyss can twist into usefulness. Even the ugliest of beasts may hold value, Mitchel.¡± he added, ¡°though, this prison reeks of desperation. It dishonors you. You must either bring them into the fold or kill them.¡±


    Mitch knew Galadrith was right. He couldn¡¯t just keep these prisoners here indefinitely. The space would be useful, and he didn¡¯t want Varak to feed them from a constant stream of bugs.


    Can some of these creatures serve a purpose? He sure hoped so. Some of the prisoners were hulking, others were frail. The thought of bringing them into his fold was equal parts enticing and dangerous.


    ¡°Some will serve,¡± Mitch said. ¡°Or we¡¯ll be forced to kill them.¡±


    ¡°Hope ye know what you¡¯re doing, lad.¡± Hathgar said but followed Mitch.


    In the Abyss, hesitation meant death. Mitch started forward, as the mice he sent to find Varak had found purchase. The Abyss wanted him to falter. He wouldn¡¯t give it the satisfaction any more.


    They wove through the chaos despite the barrage of noise and hostility. Misshapen hands reached through iron bars, broken fingers scrapped against the air. Sharp teeth snapped and grinded.


    The iron bars rattled under the weight of enraged beasts.


    Each step brought Mitch closer to something primal. The energy of the Abyssal creature¡¯s wasn¡¯t oppressive anymore. It was intoxicating to him.


    Turning a corner, he spotted Varak. Her spider-like, chitinous form crouched near a massive cell. Bugs crawled endlessly over her segmented carapace, and one even rested atop her head. Unfazed, she plucked one from her arm and popped it into her mouth, crunching casually.


    Her children played around her. They were miniature Varak¡¯s, and tossed a fat, wriggling bug back and forth like a hackysack.


    Despite the surroundings, Varak seemed entirely at ease.


    ¡°Challender,¡± she choked out. She lifted one long arm and pointed toward the largest cage at the far end of the room. Her voice held a note of excitement. ¡°Tradition.¡±


    Mitch followed her gesture. His eyes glowing red locked onto the massive cage. Its iron bars were thicker than the other.


    Inside, dozens of Abyssal creatures cramped in.


    But one figure stood apart, towering at the front of the cell like their leader.


    The creature¡¯s skin was translucent, setting it apart from the other prisoners. It had an unnatural sheen and flowing horns that curled from its head. Its eyes were black voice, empty and endless, and its mouth was little more than a slash across its face. Its sheer size dwarfed the others in the pen. Its broad shoulders and muscular frame exuded raw power.


    Its energy hit him like a force. This wasn¡¯t just another Abyssal monster¨Cit was a leader.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    ¡°What custom?¡± Mitch asked Varak. Hathgar moved to stand and watch next to the Abyssal brood mother.


    Varak¡¯s mandibles twitched in amusement. ¡°Musrut,¡± she said, the name clicking in her alien voice. ¡°Tormentors¡­Faction. Only slave¡­or leader.¡±


    Mitch¡¯s blood ran cold for a moment. The Tormentors. The name churned up fragments of memories he had unlocked since donning the Mask. They were among the worst of the Abyssal factions¡ªbrutal, sadistic predators who thrived on the suffering of others. They didn¡¯t just conquer; they desecrated. Their power came from the vilest methods imaginable, leaving nothing but despair in their wake.


    These creatures weren¡¯t just another obstacle; they were a grotesque reminder of the Abyss¡¯s cruelty. One day, he would have to confront them in their own territory. One day, he would ensure they paid for their atrocities. But for now, the challenge before him demanded his focus.


    The leader¡¯s black eyes locked onto Mitch, and it smiled as it spoke with a commanding voice. ¡°Power is born from pain, boy. The more you suffer, the stronger you become. That is the truth of the Abyss. That is the truth of us. Only the truly powerful lay claim to pain¡ªand wield it.¡±


    With a sharp gesture, he barked a command at a frail copy of himself.


    The other creature scrambled forward with its head hung low. Its eyes were locked in fear and obedience. Mitch studied it, noting its malnourished form and trembling limbs. This was no warrior. This was a tool, beaten and starved into submission.


    The creature raised its hand to its own mouth. Bone crunched as it bit down on its fingers, severing them in a single bite. It didn¡¯t spit out the flesh. Tt swallowed it whole. Black blood dripped onto the stone floor as the creature swayed,


    Another sharp order rang out. A smaller creature knelt, trembling. The leader stepped forward, its foot descending onto the creature¡¯s skull. A sickening crack echoed as the facebone splintered, leaving the creature crumpled in submission.


    Mitch¡¯s stomach turned. This creature was sick in the head. The Tormentors thrived on breaking others, turning their suffering into displays of control.


    The leader turns his black eyes toward Mitch, grinning and lipless. ¡°You win? We follow. We listen. We serve. You lose?¡± It let the silence linger. ¡°You¡¯re mine. As are your followers. That is the way of the Tormentors. A challenge.¡±


    Mitch met the creature¡¯s look. ¡°If I let you out, you¡¯re all going to rush me and Varak and Hathgar.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯d be writing his own death ticket! Ye¡¯ don¡¯t know what yer doing, but Mitch will put ye¡¯ in yer place.¡± Hathgar rumbled out.


    The leader laughed, filling the prison with cruel mirth. ¡°Rush you?¡± he said disdainfully. ¡°You dishonor me with your presumptions, young Masked Lord. Even we have codes of conduct. You versus me. For it all.¡±


    Mitch was caught off guard. The creature knew. It knew what he was¡ªwho he was.


    Realization flickered in his mind. He glanced over at Varak, who was tossing her children into the air with playful delight, utterly unbothered by the gravity of the situation.


    The leader¡¯s voice continued. ¡°A young, untested Lord¡­ already with a following. It is time we see the truth of power. I will either command you, or I will follow you. There is no middle ground. To pass up such an opportunity would be a dishonor I cannot bear.¡±


    Mitch¡¯s mouth curled into a welcome smile. ¡°Here¡¯s the deal. We¡¯ll fight, and if you win, I will surrender myself, and everyone here under your rule,¡± he measured the leader. ¡°But if you lose, you¡¯ll follow me, subject yourself to my Binding Skill, and help me in the fight against the Abyss. Starting with the Factions.¡±


    The leader smiled at Mitch with slitted teeth. ¡°A fair deal. I accept.¡±


    Mitch sliced through the lock with Galadrith. ¡°Then let¡¯s see what you¡¯ve got.¡±


    Galadrith spoke to him with approval. ¡°Even Abyssal know honor. Twisted, yes. But there, nonetheless.¡±


    Mitch glanced once more at the leader, and the lock separating them. He didn¡¯t just want the fight¨Che needed it. To test himself. To show them all.


    He raised Galadrith and sliced through the lock.


    The cage grinded forward, and the leader stepped forward. The others hung back.


    It''s gait was confident and unhurried. ¡°You¡¯ll come to regret your decision,¡± it said.


    Mitch prodded Rex, and after a moment of confusion from the hound, the Shadowshround peeled himself off in a swirl of black smoke. The hound bounded to the sidelines near Varak, watching his Master.


    Galadrith glowed faintly as Mitch set the blade down against the wall. His voice was calm as he took in the size of the Abyssal leader infront of him. ¡°No armor. No weapons. Just skin.¡±


    Surprise flashed across its face before being replaced with a smile. ¡°Brave and foolish.¡±


    The leader then barked another command, its voice echoing throughout the loud prison. One of the frail creatures within the cell stumbled forward, its head bowed low in submission.


    The creature charged at Mitch with downcast eyes. As it moved in a shamble, the leader smeared. ¡°You think you¡¯re the only one with soul powers?¡±


    Before Mitch could react, the creature¡¯s body convulsed and exploded mid-charge.


    Chitinous carapace shattered outward, a hailstorm of Abyssal bone slicing through to air towards him.


    The shards embedded themselves in Mitch''s arms, chest, and legs. Pain lanced through his body as blood dripped.


    Mitch grunted, but didn¡¯t flinch. Agony¡¯s Embrace flared to life, emboldening him yet again.


    The leader¡¯s skill was interesting however.


    Did he just burn the soul as a bomb? Interesting.


    He met the eyes of the leader, and pulled an arms length shard out of his stomach. The chunk of body clattered to the floor. Mitch didn¡¯t even bother healing himself. He needed to get stronger, and the leader was a worth training partner.


    The leader¡¯s smile faltered, confidence shifting to a snarl.


    ¡°Is that all you¡¯ve got?¡± Mitch taunted.


    The prison walls trembled from the onlooker¡¯s noise. Varak and Hathgar watched with raised eyebrows as Mitch took a step forward.


    The leader snarled and leapt at Mitch.

 BK 2: Chapter 4: Might Maketh Right

    The leader flew towards Mitch, its talons outstretched in a blur. Mitch stood tall until the very last moment before impact.


    With deliberate calm, he reached to the black mask coiled around his neck and pulled it over the lower half of his face. The fabric hid his cruel grin at the challenge.


    If cruelty is all you understand, he thought, then I¡¯ll have to make you choke on it.


    The Abyssal creature slammed into him, talons raking his stomach. Skin split open, hot blood spilling out. Pain came next, but Mitch did his best not to flinch.


    Instead, he forced Flesh into the wounds before his guts spilled out. Mitch couldn¡¯t help himself. He laughed at the Abyssal creature as it delivered another strike, this time towards his throat.


    Mitch raised his hand and caught the cold, rough claw before it reached his neck. This creature thrived on cruelty. And Mitch knew how he could be cruel to this monster who thought themselves so strong. It would only respond to strength.


    ¡°That¡¯s all?¡± Mitch asked as he front kicked the creature in the chest, sending it staggering back with a wet grunt.


    It¡¯s roar filled the prison. It struck again, teeth bared. Rather than taking the hit again, Mitch moved¨Cfluid and fast, dodging each slash. Mitch¡¯s strength cracked through the air as he leap around the snarling, angry beast.


    His Skill, Agony¡¯s Embrace, had forged strength, speed, and vitality into him. He danced around the creature and smiled under his mask.


    ¡°You¡¯re slower than I expected,¡± Mitch said, circling calmly. ¡°Did your slaves make you soft? All bark and no bite?¡±


    The leader howled in fury, lunging again. Mitch sidestepped a swipe, pivoted, and drove his fist hard into the creature¡¯s chest. A crack shot out as Abyssal ribs shattered beneath his strike.


    Mitch didn¡¯t stop. He followed with an elbow to the leader¡¯s jaw. Another crunch as the creature¡¯s translucent skin did nothing to protect its teeth.


    The force sent the Abyssal leader staggering and spitting black blood from its lipless mouth.


    Hathgar¡¯s voice boomed. ¡°That¡¯s it, lad! Show that basterd who¡¯s the boss!¡±


    Varak cheered with her children next to the dwarf.


    In the shadows of the cages, the other Abyssal creatures grew silent. Both the hulking beasts still under lock, and the slaves of the leader that Mitch embarrassed.


    Mitch closed the distance, driving fists into the leader¡¯s ribs again.


    The creature crumpled, but didn¡¯t fall. Instead, it looked up at Mitch, revealing jagged teeth.


    ¡°You think this is pain, Masked Lord?¡± the leader hissed.


    It dug its claws into its own chest and broke through its see through skin. Then, it peeled a measure away in a strip, throwing it to the side.


    Strips of flesh tore free, revealing beating muscle underneath.


    ¡°This?¡± the leader rasped with malice as it smile. ¡°This is nothing. Nothing where we hail from. You may be the Masked Lord, but I was once called the Marked One.¡±


    Mitch¡¯s eyes narrowed as he analyzed what the creature was doing.


    It raised a hand toward the cage. One of the frailer Abyssal creatures inside whimpered.


    Quickly, the frail monster¡¯s body shuddered and then shriveled while it tried to remain standing. It quickly lost it¡¯s strength and dropped to the ground. Red energy surged from the withered frame and rushed toward the leader.


    Mitch watched as the peeled flesh from its own hand healed back together. His chest burned with anger as the leader absorbed the stolen life force. It stood taller and with a final crunch, its broken jaw snapped back together to reveal the leader¡¯s strange smile.


    ¡°You can¡¯t beat me,¡± the leader taunted. ¡°You cannot beat what thrives on suffering. When there are so many things to hurt.¡±


    Mitch felt the heat rise to his face. This creature wasn¡¯t just a dumb brute; it wielded cruelty of others like a weapon.


    He charged forward, and the leader laughter.


    A searing heat sliced down Mitch¡¯s back. His skin felt as though it was being ripped away in strips. He grunted, and Agony¡¯s Embrace flared.


    Without thinking, he leapt over the leader with his strength. The cycle of pain and strength had forged his muscles into ready springs.


    Landing behind it, Mitch sealed his torn back flesh with Agony¡¯s Embrace. The fresh scars added to his body¡¯s collection.


    Before Mitch could lunge and shove the creature to the ground, Mook¡¯s voice cracked through the Abyssal Bind with intense excitement.


    ¡°Mitchell! I¡¯ve done it! The Doors¨CI know how to fix them! I¨C¡±


    Mitch snarled in frustration and shot back through the Bind. ¡°Not now, Mook!¡± His mental voice was sharp and cutting. ¡°Get to the prison. And bring answers.¡±


    He severed the connection, leaving him focussed on the leader once more.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    Mitch darted forward in a blur of motion as the leader spun to slash at him once more. He bobbed his head, talons just out of reach as he slammed his fist into the leader¡¯s face with crushing force.


    The creature¡¯s translucent skin splintered like glass, horned head snapping back.


    It snarled and retaliated with a swipe that Mitch deflected with his forearm, then drove his knee into its midsection with enough force to send it sprawling back.


    Mitch pressed his advantage, leaping towards it and driving a downward elbow into its skull.


    ¡°You think you¡¯re untouchable?¡± Mitch growled. ¡°That taking from your slaves is strength?¡±


    The leader roared and tried to rise. With another command, a slave collapsed in the cage, energy siphoned into the leader¡¯s broken face.


    Mitch¡¯s fury ignited further. Each sacrifice was a mockery¨Ca waste of a living thing. His strikes came harder and faster as Mitch pummled the leader.


    He caught himself picking up the leader and slamming him head first into the stone floor. Another punch straight into the chest resulted in a wet crunch.


    The creature crumpled beneath him, bloodied and broken and breathing raggedly as it reached again for another slave to surrender for power.


    ¡°Enough,¡± Mitch hissed, standing and planting a boot on the leader¡¯s broken chest.


    He pressed down, and the bones beneath his foot cracked audibly. The leader writhed, its earlier arrogance shattered.


    ¡°No more sacrifices. You fight for me now¨Cor you don¡¯t fight at all.¡± Mitch said as he pushed down on the leader¡¯s chest.


    The prison fell silent, save for Hathgar, Varak, and her children.


    ¡°Aye! That¡¯s the damned power ye¡¯ asked for!¡± Hathgar roared and clapped.


    Mitch straightened and looked at the leader¡¯s slaves in the cell. The creature had killed two Abyssal monsters to heal himself.


    The fight wasn¡¯t just a victory for Mitch. It felt like a statement to every single watching Abyssal monster. He wasn¡¯t just here to survive. With his newly gained knowledge, he was here to conquer.


    The leader wheezed beneath Mitch¡¯s boot. Its black eyes now looked up at him with begrudging respect. ¡°You are much stronger than I thought¡­,¡± it looked over at the other Abyssals. ¡°We will serve. We do not wish to die yet.¡± It seemed to deflate from recognizing Mitch as its ¡°better¡±.


    Behind the bars of the unlocked cell, the other Abyssals shifted. Slowly they folded into deep bows, forms lowering in unison.


    Their submission chilled the stuffy prison.


    Mitch¡¯s chest barely rose from the exertion of the fight. ¡°You¡¯re going to tell me everything I need to know about the Factions later,¡± he said as his eyes locked onto the leaders. ¡°We¡¯re going to start with the Tormentors.¡±


    The leader¡¯s mouth curled in a sardonic smile. ¡°As you wish.¡±


    Mitch lifted his boot off the leader and it stood up shakily. ¡°Name?¡± Mitch asked the broken monster.


    ¡°Ha. There were no names where we hail. Not for the likes of us.¡± It answered.


    ¡°Choose one,¡± he turned to look at the Abyssal creatures still huddled in the open cage. ¡°All of you.¡±


    Mitch turned to the Leader and reached out with his Abyssal Bind Skill. He felt the minds of hundreds of Bugs under Varak¡¯s temporary control, the Mice, and the many Abyssal creatures in the prison.


    He reached towards the leader¡¯s dark mind and pressed his Abyssal Bind as an invitation. For all the creature¡¯s misgivings, it was clearly intelligent. Mitch could feel it¡¯s intellect analyzing him.


    The leader gasped for a moment, and Mitch felt the acceptance. The cool rush of a new minion brought with it a sense of power over Mitch¡¯s shoulders. He tried to ignore it.


    Turning, Mitch cast his net wide on the others. Their minds were scattered between basically blank and brightly smart. Without a moment¡¯s hesitation, they all accepted the Binding at his request.


    The cold rush built in his core at his new minions, and Mitch¡¯s smile was shown to all as he lowered his mask.


    Varak clicked her mouth in approval. Almost as if she could feel him leveling his Skill. ¡°Mask¡­Master always win. Of course,¡± she said as she tossed bugs to the new minions and her children.


    Abyssal Bind Upgraded


    Level 6(+1)


    Exert command over Abyssal beings and draw others into a permanent bond.


    Followers: Create lasting connections with chosen beings. Extend your influence and power over them.


    + Guardians of Will: Grant trusted minions the authority to command.


    Requirements: True allegiance must be granted willingly.


    Minions: Abyssal Fodder: 26(+22), Abyssal Bugs: 3082(-5), Mook, Abyssal Mice: 5


    Followers: Sable (First Follower), Leonardo XI


    Guardians of Will: Varak


    Each of the Abyssal creatures, including the leader, was temporarily shrouded in darkness. Just for a moment, they seemed to vanish, before they reappeared and shuffled out in a group.


    ¡°Ain¡¯t liking the look of that bowing, Mitch. Not one stinkin¡¯ bit. Yer the Masked Lord and all, just damned eerie to see it from them.¡± Hathgar grumbled.


    ¡°We¡¯ll keep them too busy to scheme, don¡¯t you worry, Hathgar,¡± Mitch smiled and went to pick up Galadrith. Rex padded over to the new minions and sniffed them. Some of the creatures looked pleased at the sight of a Shadowshroud and pet Rex¡¯s fur, which the hound loved.


    ¡°Just keep your guard up, lad.¡± Hathgar said.


    The Bind settled over his new minions. Mitch felt that he could reach out and order them to do his bidding. But he didn¡¯t want just mindless beasts.


    He sent healing over towards the leader using some of his Flesh reserves. Instantly, his cracked face and chest healed over, and the leader sharply inhaled.


    Mitch looked over the rest of the new minions. Many were skinny, malnourished, and wasting away. He threw a blanket of Flesh towards all of the beacons, and a dozen red tendrils shot out to heal them of their ailments.


    Settlement Amount: 353 Souls, 335 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 741(-80) Flesh.


    Mitch noted his Flesh reserves lessening.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± the leader said, still measuring Mitch and watching his previous slaves faun over Rex¡¯s massive frame. They weren¡¯t affected by the energy Leeching like normal living things.


    Mitch had proved his point. He had gained two dozen new minions, strengthened his Skill, and brought on some intelligent creatures. He reached down and picked up Galadrith.


    ¡°The forces grow. That was a good move. Though the Tormentors, they are sick. Be careful with them.¡± The sword grumbled.


    Mook was on his way, he could feel the scampering and wheezing of the fat Abyssal Scholar.


    Mitch started towards the Perch that overlooked the Pit. The remaining prisoners watched him in silence.


    Over his shoulder, he heard Hathgar and Varak talking with the new leader. Getting a feel for each other. Now that the leader wasn¡¯t in charge, its previous violent look was replaced with a slightly less violent look.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go. We¡¯re having a team meeting. Now that we¡¯re growing, we need to plan some things out.¡± He barked over his shoulder.


    Instantly Rex zoomed over, and settled over his body like a thick t-shirt.


    Mitch hated that he was going to have to play manager. But his forces had grown, and he had a solution for his dwindling Flesh reserves.


    It was time to begin building his own Faction.

 BK 2: Chapter 5: Cannonball

    The cramped prison stretched, cloaking the group in its suffocating heat. The fetid breath of creatures who hadn¡¯t seen freedom in gods knew how long lingered in the air thickly. From behind rusted bars, their eyes watched hungry and watchful. Mitch was tired of the scent of torment. Varak had been drip feeding them Bugs he summoned from the walls, but it had always been a temporary solution, nothing more.


    Heat pressed against his skin as he led the group deeper, toward the back of the prison¡ªtoward the very spot where he, Sable, Varak, and the other minions had first broken in.


    A wheezing snarl rose from one of the cages, a misshapen Abyssal thing of jagged bone and sinew pressing its face against the bars. Mitch didn¡¯t so much as glance at it. For now, he had claimed the prison. For now, he had claimed the prison, but it wasn¡¯t friendly territory¡ªat least, not yet. The creatures within watched him with hunger and eerie patience.


    It weighed on him, though not as heavily as the hollow ache at his stomach. Without his First Follower, Sable, to check him, Mitch felt¡­incomplete. Like something vital had been carved out.


    The Abyssal Bind offered no comfort. He couldn¡¯t feel her presence, couldn¡¯t sense her at all. The connection that had anchored him through the Pit in this reborn nightmare was stretched too thin to grasp. Her absence wasn¡¯t just unsettling¨Cit felt wrong. A deeper instinct nagged at him, a brain tickle that something wasn¡¯t right.


    Hope you¡¯re safe, wherever you are, Mitch thought grimly. He knew full well she was somewhere in Shadowreach, digging through the tangled mess surrounding Warrick, Urgar, Crae, and the Front.


    Eventually, he would have to follow her trail, to see the Front for himself¡ªand to find out why Mathilda had vanished. But for now, the massive door at the far end of the prison loomed ahead, heavy and immovable.


    ¡°Damned furnace in ¡®ere,¡± Hathgar grumbled beside him, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of a calloused hand. His heavy boots clanged against the rock floor. ¡°Always us, eh? Gettin¡¯ stuck with the dirty work. Eh? Eh?¡±


    Varak scuttled alongside them, her chitinous limbs clicking softly against the stone. Her brood trailed after her, scurrying ahead to peer into cages with childlike fascination.


    ¡°Ye really do think this lot will be useful if ye¡¯ can get a good chunk to join? Hmm,¡± Hathgar continued, his voice low before the door as he scanned the cages and the following leader and new minions that followed. ¡°Varak and this new group, they¡¯re useful, Varak is damned near the best, but most of em? Half dead already.¡±


    Before Mitch could answer, Galadrith¡¯s voice slid in. ¡°I agree with the small man. Desperation can be ugly... but it can also be molded. Properly forged, it becomes something sharp.¡±


    Mitch¡¯s lips twitched under his mask. ¡°You¡¯re still up to help? Even if you do complain at every chance?¡±


    The dwarf grunted, but nodded and nodded at the door. ¡°Course. Someone¡¯s got to watch your big ass.¡±


    The massive scared slab of metal loomed above them. Mitch¡¯s Abyssal Mice had chewed through the lower edges during their first invasion, but the thick metal had held¡ªwarped, yes, but not broken.


    Mitch stepped forward, his fingers flexing as he felt the raw power coursing through his body. This strength wasn¡¯t something he had been given¡ªit was something he had earned. Through pain, through the Pit, through endless fights and the agonizing pods that had burned new life into his flesh.


    He smiled, thinking of how much further he could go. Strength had become his language. And he knew there were stronger creatures waiting beyond these walls. He welcomed the thought. Welcomed the chance to push himself further. Eventually, even the Abyss itself would have to reckon with him. Eventually.


    With a grunt, he gripped the edges of the door with both hands and pulled. The metal groaned in protest, echoing down the length of the prison, but it yielded to his strength. Slowly, it swung open, revealing the dark corridor beyond. Towards the path that led to the Perch overlooking the Pit.


    The corridor gave shifted the heat to the standard icy chill of the Abyss. The walls ripped from rock narrowed around them, and the erratic glowstones didn¡¯t offer much light.


    Varak and her brood shot ahead, limbs clacking against the stone floor. The newly bound Abyssal minions followed in silence, postures showing their anticipation.


    The leader followed, but slowed his pace, and cast a look back at Mitch and Hathgar. His translucent skin caught the strange light and gave him a spectral appearance. He approached with a cautious gait, as if unused to such freedom.


    ¡°I¡¯ve decided,¡± he said, voice off tune and clipper. ¡°Call me Yarg.¡±


    Mitch felt the weight of the creature¡¯s name¨Ca claim to identity after tears of being nothing but a slave owner and likely a slave himself. A tool of torment.


    ¡°Yarg,¡± Mitch repeated, testing the name in his mouth. ¡°It suits you, I think?¡±


    Yarg¡¯s lipless mouth curled into an approximation of a grin. He turned, and glanced down the corridor ahead where the other Abyssal creatures had disappeared. His long fingers twitched in an ache for action.


    ¡°Its been years since I¡¯ve seen anything beyond the walls of the prison,¡± Yarg growled bitterly. ¡°Too long.¡±


    Without waiting for a response, Yarg shot forward, long strides carrying him around the bend as he caught up with Varak and the others.


    Hathgar grumbled. ¡°Stange one, that Yarg. Don¡¯t trust him a synch, but he¡¯s got fire. Could be useful.¡±This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to need powerful people in this¡­Faction against the Abyss. Yarg is strong, smart, and clearly knows how to lead. We¡¯re just going to adjust his methods.¡± Mitch responded.


    Mitch knew what it felt like to be trapped, the weight of walls pressing in on all sides.


    As they approached the Perch, Mitch slowed. His gaze drifted downward, scanning the Pit.


    The withered bodies of the fallen and siphoned still littered the ground. The pool of blood was long gone, stored in his core.


    The sight stirred the memories he had received in the Cathedral when he donned the Mask.


    He saw them: humans, elves, dwarves, Abyssal monsters¡­ all standing together. United under his command. His bodies command. The had followed him once, trusted him to fight against the Abyss and its soul recycling.


    The memories felt distant but vivid and real.


    ¡°You alright, lad? This is where ye¡¯ were? Before?¡± Hathgar¡¯s voice broke through.


    ¡°Yes. This is where the Warden kept me and Sable. Where Varak came forward.¡± Mitch smiled at the brood mother, and her pincered mouth opened in her best smile. ¡°The Warden thought he¡¯d break me. Keep me here as his pet. Instead, he just made us stronger. Now it¡¯s time to use that strength.¡±


    Varak¡¯s children were already peering over the edge of the Perch, high voices echoing in the vast chamber. Yarg watched Mitch, gazing into the Pit and nodding at him in respect.


    Varak herself added. ¡°Of course Master strong. Now what meeting¡­about? Need to¡­feed children.¡±


    Mitch cast a look down into the empty blood pool and withered bodies around it. This was his domain now¨Cbroken, brutal, but him to command.


    ¡°You¡¯re right Varak,¡± Mitch said. He knew she was right, and nodded before continuing. ¡°You will guard the Pit. You¡¯re also in charge of Abyssal food production.¡±


    Varak tilted her head. ¡°Varak can¡­command Bug now. Only few¡­Not enough. Not yet. Still levelling.¡± She exhibited her new Skill. She was a Guardian of will, and he could pass control of Bugs under Abyssal Bind to her. But he had also noticed her pulling bugs out of walls for snacks. A few gathered around her feet. It seemed that Varak was growing just like him.


    Mitch smiled and raised a hand. He pulled and stretched Abyssal Bind, which extended much further than before. Out of the walls with a rumble, thousands of Abyssal Bugs began to stir. From cracks and crevices, from unseen tunnels, they poured forth. A living tide of dark chitin.


    Minions: Abyssal Fodder: 26(+22), Abyssal Bugs: 6,214(+3132), Mook, Abyssal Mice: 5


    Followers: Sable (First Follower), Leonardo XI


    Guardians of Will: Varak


    The bugs swarmed toward Varak, pooling around her as he passed their wills to her.


    Her children squealed in delight, diving into the swarm with reckless abandon. They rolled and tumbled, devouring the bugs with sharp clicks.


    Varak watched with approval. ¡°Master smart. But bug..eat meat.¡±


    Mitch turned to the empty pool below. He reached within himself and pulled into his Flesh reserves.


    A dark ripple of red energy and flesh spread out from his fingers. It curled and trailed and left a faint metallic tinge to the air as it flowed toward the empty pool.


    Settlement Amount: 353 Souls, 335 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 621(-200) Flesh


    The rock pool filled rapidly, dark gore chunks bubbling the surface. The Bugs, without their orders, immediately surged toward the pool in a thick trail.


    ¡°Feed them with this,¡± Mitch said. ¡°Your job now extends to grow the Bug reserve. Leonard and Patty and the others? We¡¯re going to need to figure out human food.¡±


    Varak clicked her mouth once, looking impressed. ¡°Smart. I collect Bug, find more meat¡­hmmm¡­Maybe master give more meat. Can work.¡±


    Her children scuttled along the trail of bugs that rushed toward the pool.


    Mitch couldn¡¯t help but smile. The little Abyssal children leaped in bug-like cannonballs into the slurry of gore and bugs, sending splashes of red across the stone floor. Even in the Abyss, the children of the dark found their fun.


    Yarg approached, heavy steps alerting Mitch of him wanting his own orders.


    ¡°And my job?¡± Yarg asked.


    ¡°You will fight the prisoners. Challenge them. Bring them into the fold.¡± Mitch answered. The other minions surrounding looked approvingly at Mitch and his assessment. ¡°I want you in charge of bringing them in, training them up,¡± Mitch gestured with his hand over the small crowd of previous slaves turned minions. ¡°Including all of them. Turn them in to fighting shape.¡±


    Yarg smiled. ¡°And if they won¡¯t come into the fold? With or without a challenge?¡±


    ¡°Then you kill them. Their bodies will serve as food. Their souls¡­back down.¡±


    Yarg grinned even wider. He gave an almost childlike nod of approval. ¡°Good. I like that.¡±


    Hathgar muttered under his breath at Yarg¡¯s horrifying smile. ¡°Ye¡¯ll have to work on that smile, Yarguh. Looks like you¡¯re about to eat someone.¡±


    Yarg tilted his head, confused, already eager to begin his task. The other minions surrounded Yarg, clearly eager to begin their own training.


    ¡°And me? What about ol¡¯d Hathgar, eh?¡± the dwarf asked?


    Mitch clapped a hand on the dwarf¡¯s shoulder. ¡°You¡¯re with me. Sound good?¡±


    Hathgar grinned, hefting an iron fist into the air. ¡°Always, lad.¡±


    Mitch turned and began walking back to the prison with Hathgar, following the eager Yarg and minions. Varak and her children played in the pool and ate bugs.


    As they walked back, Hathgar gave Mitch a sideways glance. ¡°Didn¡¯t ye¡¯ tell Mook to come here? About the portal doors?¡±


    Mitch chuckled darkly. ¡°Figured the chubby scholar could use a little exercise.¡±


    He felt the presence of the scholar. On cue, the faint wheezing of Mook echoed down the corridor, accompanied by the shuffle of his short legs.


    The Abyssal scholar appeared seconds later, Abyssal face sweating and panting, but carrying a scroll tucked under one arm.


    ¡°Where,¡± Mook spluttered as Mitch and Hathgar ran past him. ¡°Where are you going? The meeting? The doors? Don¡¯t you want to know about the solution to open the doors?¡±


    Mitch called over his shoulder. ¡°Yep. Catch up! Just needed you to breathe some¡­fresh air first.¡±


    The air back towards the Estate was different. Yarg had the minions cataloging the prisoners. Varak played with her children and grew the bug farm. Leonard and Patty were somewhere experimenting with plants. The lesser intelligent minions kept watch in the tunnels.


    Mitch¡¯s forces were growing, plans forming, and he smiled as Mook heaved on the run back to the Estate. Sable would be fine, hopefully. He worried about her, as if something was letting him now.


    After we see what Mook has to say about the Doors, perhaps I¡¯ll make an appearance in Shadowreach. Can¡¯t have Sable in danger, and Mathilda¡­

 Abyssal Curse Announcement - Taking a Break

    Let''s get into it. When I first started writing, I actually wrote another story called Cottage Gore. Wrote about 70K words, got some feedback from some friends, and knew my skills weren''t up to snuff just yet. That was way too large of a story. I put that idea on the backburner and began working through a scene I had stuck in my head for years about a barback getting his ass kicked during a robbery. If you couldn''t tell, I was a barback at a crazy club where I''m from. That''s how we got the idea for Abyssal Curse!


    I''ve had so much fun writing it, I''ve learned a ton, and know where I can improve in the future. Seeing your comments, your views, all of it, has meant the world to me. Knowing that my peanut brain can smash together enough sentences that people enjoy and look forward to reading? What a dream. But, I still need to take a break from writing it.


    Without getting too much into it, I''m Canadian and work primarily as an IT Contractor. Meaning I get paid by the project, by the hour, or by the deliverable. That''s fine and dandy when things are going great, but I am craving some stability, it''s impossible to get approved for a good mortgage (even if you make MORE as a contractor) and I am pretty tired of being paid net 60. Yep, that means if you bill on January 31st (after working all of January), you don''t get your money until March 31st. The waves can be fun, but boy are they stressful. I''ve been interviewing for full time roles, and am expecting a good offer soon. Fear not! I am fine! But IT is in a weird place and I need to prioritize on a soft landing after circling back about the KPIs...Oh no I''m already turning into a Corporate drone.


    I HOPE THIS EMAIL FINDS YOU WELL...BZZZZ...HAVE YOU SEEN THE WEATHER TODAY....BZZZ...CAN WE CIRCLE BACK AFTER REPRIORITIZING...BZZZ...YES I LOVE TEAM BUILDING EXERCISES...


    Once I land a fulltime role, I will likely be working many hours to ramp up, and I don''t want to just throw slop onto the page in the meantime as I scramble to land smaller, lower paying projects and more interviews. I want to tell a badass story of a dude trying to overthrow hell with a dwarf friend, a demonic brood mother, a Patchling, and a snarky sword.


    Wait, there''s more! For those of you who don''t know, I actually run a Newsletter interviewing Authors in the space. It''s a passion project of mine, and I never intend to make revenue from it. Someone has to interview these amazing authors on this site, right? Chatting with tons of Authors in Immersive Ink, which is a great discord for the space, lots of writers express how posting all the time is tough. What I''m getting at is that the schedule of Royal Road posting can be pretty dang stressful.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    One thing I really struggled with in releasing this story was the constant posting. I''m just not that fast of a writer. It might take me 2-8 hours to write a single chapter. That''s fine, but I only had about 70K words upon release, and have since written the additional 50K. I''m just not that good at writing yet. It''s a skill like anything else that needs to can be developed, and since we love LitRPG, if Writer is a Class, Speed is a Stat that can be improved. I need to improve that. In the future, I would definitely write the entirety of book 1, and half of book 2 before releasing. Then probably take a pause before releasing Book 2 or something.


    Pacing? Definitely needs some work. Character? Yeah, could probably do a better job. Romance? I was actually surprised at the amount of pushback that Sable and Mitch got. I''ve seen tons of relationships build too quickly that it borders almost on toxicity. Sometimes you just like someone. Especially with their traumas, feels like Sable would cling to someone, and feels like Mitch would to. Also toxic relationships sell. Hello, Colleen Hoover. But I''ll still take the feedback and work to improve.


    So what''s next? Well, I''m going to finish Abyssal Curse. I like the grittiness and where it''s going into the whole Faction Building arc. The Transfer Room? Let''s go see where they go. The Gluttonous Ones, maybe? Mathilda? What''s her deal? Where is she? Warrick, Crae, Urgar, Sable? How bad is Shadowreach? How the heck is Sable going to get her soul back? Mitch has to defeat the Abyss and figure this out? Collectors? But he''s so strong now. All planned. Just not written. In the future? I''m looking to publish and hopefully make writing a career, but that''s a long way off. Maybe I''ll sign a deal for Abyssal Curse? Maybe I''ll self publish? Not sure yet.


    I just need some time to get situated on my end.


    For those of you that are curious, I''m working on a few other projects when I have the time. Including Abyssal Curse.


    One is a buddy comedy set in Canadian Cottage country, and is a System Integration LitRPG Apocalypse that''s pretty dang whacky.


    One is a Progression Fantasy series set around politics and magical Gardens...and waifus.


    One''s about a Pizza Delivery boy and a Pizza Lich Shop!


    This is starting to feel like a rant. I''m not giving up on Abyssal Curse. I will finish this story. I''m working on other things. I don''t love constantly posting. Refreshing stats can sting sometimes. You are all the best for reading. Truly, you have no idea how awesome it feels to read comments. I''m going to make a much bigger effort to post comments on the stories I read, because dang does it really brighten a writer''s day.


    Peace and Love and Down with the Abyss,


    ?????¡á?Saga Scribe