Chapter 241 - TFF

The missing werewolf intrigued Alan more than anything else. The pillar it had been bound to was broken in pieces, and the pool of its blood was probably buried beneath the rubble.

Last time a quest was offered to their group – something about releasing the fearsome monster. This meant someone So only the monsters kept getting reset, while a dungeon’s story or path could be permanently altered. Alan hoped whoever it was that had done this to be alive. Such people were bound to be interesting and strong.

The hole in the ceiling remained as it had been before, and what rested beyond was still a mystery. Alan briefly contemplated crawling up the walls or using his invisible platform to see what was up there. The bound werewolf and the pillar had obviously fallen from there before being turned into a source of pale blood.

The werewolf was bound to be very strong. There was no other way about it, and if the dungeon had more parts, then it would be found in a different place. That was the only way the story would somewhat make sense. It was still a bunch of nonsense jumbled together if one asked him.

Alan continued his path, excited for what awaited. He distinctively remembered how useful the blood had been to Ashlyn, so perhaps this could be his gift to her once he fought the beast. Assuming it was not some sort of a friendly quest giver in a strange twist of the System.

He smiled at the thought was shattered instantly. The path before him grew darker again. The laboratories filled with hearts and different parts were a mess. Splatters covered all surfaces and unlike last time there was not a single beating heart remaining. It was a wonder the pale heart attendants had still been present in the room with the table and the chalices, but there was another side to the room. He briefly contemplated going back but gave up.

The werewolf had taken its rage out on the environment once it had been released. The claw marks left in stone and metal certainly led Alan to think so.

He rushed through vaguely familiar tunnels and halls. It seemed an eternity ago, yet it hadn’t even been a full year since their visit as a team. In mere minutes the hall they had met the elves in sprawled dark and wide before him. He half expected another scene of carnage, marking the passage of the beast, but perhaps it had taken the road up.

Whoever has freed the Pale Werewolf should’ve done so quite a while ago. All the spawns are up, and there are no traces of combat apart from the destruction in the labs. It could be left for aesthetic reasons by the dungeon. Have they left or died is the question? Will I even find traces of previous visitors? Should I go back and go up instead?

A quick peek made Alan stop his rampaging thoughts. There was nothing here at first glance, but deep shadows that hid the outlines of quite a few bodies. Alan could see them clearly with his improved eyesight. The skinless Corpse Servants still appeared in his more disturbing thoughts from time to time, despite all the changes he had undergone. Some things were just made to affect the human psyche.

He didn’t know that much about dungeons. He had run into Jay and his team, which meant a dungeon was open to all. But what would happen if a hundred people decided to storm it? With barely any effort he dropped down into the hall, allowing the wisps of shadow to curl around him like crescents ready to let go. His ‘shadow nova’ was a simple use of [Shadow Creation] and a mana overload. Many shadow slashes let go at once.

As the corpses charged at him, Alan remained motionless, allowing more and more of his hungry dark mana to feed the shadows until he was nothing more than a blob of darkness being stormed by the skinless corpses.

Then he let go of the built-up energy.

He expected flying limbs and system messages but instead, his eyes widened as the shadows met the skinless and bloodless flesh and sank merely a few centimeters in. It wasn’t his strongest attack, but it was enough to deal with most things under level 100. That meant…

Levels!

Alan’s heart beat faster as he dodged the charge of the now mangled blood servants. His shadows swirled around him blocking and lashing out, and all he did was direct them in an endless dance. The attacks containing only the strength of [Shadow Creation] were weaker than anticipated, but the exercise felt good for improving his control.

The corpses attack with teeth and limbs without any sort of skill, so using them as target practice was sufficient. Alan could see where his shadows lagged, or which angles took more effort to control. He focused on that. His speed was more than enough to guarantee his safety, and the fight was making the spirit’s shadow flame inside him flicker yet again.

It fueled his growth and his mastery over his skill, rather than the skill itself.

The shadows crawling out of him and lashing out at the corpses became darker yet again as his will permeated them, and suddenly the flesh was softer, and the bone beneath more brittle.

Alan felt almost giddy as he let himself go for once. This was not the outside. There was no Sanctuary or allies to be mindful of nearby. Finally, some of the tension building up inside him, supported by the urges of the myriad voices in his mind and now also by the strange gift from the spirit, was released. No complicated skills to keep track of or aim. No casting delays or worries about mana. He didn’t even use [Dark Step] as he didn’t need it.

The harvester’s fire burned darker and more turbulent yet again, and Alan felt his mind slip into a state of nothingness. And he let it. More and more corpses seemed to crawl out of crevices and dark holes, and he moved among them without care. His hands were coated in darkness turning into blurry claws as he grabbed at the limbs attacking him and cut them apart by squeezing.

He and his shadows were one. It was a flow unlike any other. A rhythm of carnage and joy that slowly became quieter and quieter until nothing remained.

Only the shadows, and the darkness.

His strength of body was lacking, but the shadows made up for it. Each touch was enough to separate flesh from flesh, and each wave of a hand ended one of the corpses. Flesh broke under the caress of darkness, and so did bone.

When there were no more, and the ground was littered with limbs and pieces of the monsters, Alan finally stopped and allowed his mind to return to him. It was like waking up from a dream. There had been no thoughts interfering in his dance and control. No skills. Not even senses.

Just the shadows and him.

He sighed and felt the intimately familiar buzz of the System messages in his mind. They waited for him, promising some.

You have slain: Skinned Corpse Servant (114)

You have slain: Skinned Corpse Servant (119)

You have slain: Skinned Corpse Servant (124)

You have slain: Skinned Corpse Servant (121)

…

Level up!

You have reached level 124 in Tier Two [Shepherd of the Broken]

+5 Attribute Points

+5 to Mind, Will, Magic

Only one level after all of that? Bummer.

There were no messages explaining what had happened to him, but Alan had an inkling about it. ‘Flow’ could refer to many different things, not only mana, and his state was similar to what he had experienced in the Bazaar during his stroll. A state of emptiness. Perhaps it was not void he had gotten insight into, but a different interpretation of things. Emptiness and void… so similar, and yet one seemed to refer to his mind and state, while the other was a hungry nothingness represented by energy. But the sole fact that there was energy, made it oppose the notion of ‘nothingness’…

The first insight I gained happened here… It seems this place is quite good to me.

Without waiting any longer Alan rushed toward his next objective. Perhaps this time there would be more to be gained from meeting the first boss. Last time was an eventful fight, and the creature had put up quite the resistance against their efforts. He half expected this time to be no different, but if the Doctor was sane enough to speak and scheme…

The dungeon had grown more dangerous, but so had Alan. He wanted to see if he had somehow gone ahead of the System’s plans.

Soon enough he found the grotesque iron double doors announcing the presence of something more. He stepped through and the room greeted him as it had before. The dark marble floor remained clean of remains, and clean of dirt, as if it had just been scrubbed for Alan’s arrival. The torches flickered eternal, uncaring about the passage of time outside.

Empty coffins raised on columns, four corpse servants kneeling toward the one in the far end, and the person inside looking just the same. Dry skin, thin body streaked with red, hollowed-out eyes, and disfigured face.

“A visitor. It’s been so long.” The voice dragged itself roughly toward Alan. “Come to partake in the gifts we offer? Or… seekers of—”

The same words as before. The very same tone. It carried with itself terror that seemed very hollow to Alan now. Such a scripted encounter… if the being that was the boss was trapped in this dungeon, and had a modicum of free will, wasn’t it supposed to act differently? Sure, it had a role to play, but—

It cut off the last word. Alan grinned.

“We meet again, friend,” Alan said.

“You’ve come before,” the boss spoke slowly. The words were more unnatural now. “You’ve come before,” it repeated.

“Yep. What now?”

You have received a new quest: Defeat the Blood Corpse!

Throughout the universe, Blood Corpses are slain on sight unless they are in service of a greater power or kept as slaves. Kill the one before you, and punish it for existing.

Reward: The First Scroll of the Blood Corpse Mantra

Oh? The reward has changed. Is it the level difference, or something else? Nevertheless, anything from here can prove priceless. Zirida’s order is obsessed with blood. I should be able to trade some things if I ever meet her again.

“Have you come to embrace the gift I offer, or… have you perhaps seen the Doctor?” it asked.

The blood servants on the ground rose as one but didn’t attack.

It asked this last time as well.

“I saw the Doctor. We spoke. I’ve made a promise.”

The servants trembled and so did the Blood Corpse before Alan. He stepped forward, dripping blood upon the marble floor. It was a nightmarish image, but all Alan did was smile. All he could do at this moment was smile. The urge to tear the boss monster apart and test himself was so strong it was unbelievable. But he held it at bay. Letting go was his choice, after all.

“I see. Have you brought Mother’s tears to me, then?” the corpse asked.

“That was not the deal I struck with the Doctor,” Alan said.

The corpse froze once again. Alan could see its features warp from intense inhuman emotions. This was extremely interesting. This dungeon was extremely interesting.

“Tell me, what will happen if I were to destroy this place?” Alan asked.

The corpse shuddered and with it the whole chapel.

“To destroy this place… The Lord of Flesh, the Lady of Blood will not allow it. The Doctor is a fool and has caught another fly in his trap. They rule eternal, even if the Blood Fields have fallen deep beneath the earth, and become a honing stone for those like you; even if we’re trapped in this cursed cycle to die over and over and over again. Another tried a while ago… she still bleeds. To this day she bleeds. Ha! Hahahaha!”

The corpse laughed and with it so did the servants. It was more of a wailing than laughter, but Alan didn’t care. This was interesting. The Lord of Flesh and Lady of Blood had been mentioned before, and he suddenly remembered the diary he still carried around. Without thinking Alan took it out and waved it, making the corpse’s laughter stop.

“You have killed me before…? Was I weak then? Or was I strong?” it said without any surprise.

“Quite strong. You almost took us all down.”

“Good. I’ve made them happy, then. I live to serve.”

“Listen, man. I’ve enjoyed this chat but I’ll be going to the Doctor now. Can you open the door? You seem like a nice guy apart from all the madness and blood.”

The Blood Corpse laughed, and then its servants lunged forth.

“Now I’ll see if the color of your insides matches the ones I’ve seen before, man of shadows. Join me in this eternal feast of blood and flesh!”

Alan sighed outwardly, but he was glad on the inside. This was what he craved after all.