Chương 18: [LD-1] 17. Cursed Lineage

XVII Cursed Lineage My brows pressed against each other as I stared Kiba down. He sighed.

"I apologise for what I did." I waited, for he did not speak immediately. While I did, I studied his arm.

'It's no longer leaking.' The wounds had closed completely. Without using a healing potion or receiving any healing? His healing factor was insane.

"…but I cannot tell you what happened," he said finally. That made a nerve pop on my forehead.

"You almost ate me, Kiba." Bangs of white hair fell and covered part of his face. He looked away from me to the floor and scratched the back of his head. We remained quiet for a long moment until he bit the inside of his cheek and got out:"It's a curse." I blinked.

"A curse?" With a nod, he lifted his transformed arm.

"Have you heard of the Crowleys?" I shook my head.

"We're a clan of shapeshifters. We became a noble family relatively recently." Noble families were rare, and not all of them flaunted their status. There were enough families that you'd only hear of if you ever ran into them. All the more if his family had recently achieved its status.

'Shapeshifters…' People who could channel the power of a beast and transform? If I recalled correctly, shapeshifter families usually formed contracts with a guardian beast so they could take on its likeness. Kiba's transformation looked to be related to a wolf of some kind. Or perhaps a fox. My gaze narrowed as I read between the lines.

"Did the Crowleys becoming a noble family have something to do with the curse?"

"Yes," he said. I again waited for him to continue. But he shook his head.

"I'm sorry. This is already more than I can reveal." The ancient, wooden surface of the treasure chest creaked under my armpit. More than he can reveal? He'd basically explained nothing. Nothing on what this 'curse' was supposed to be, or why it forced him to attack his allies. However, clan secrets were not something you could force out of another. Certain things were sealed with more than a mere promise.

"Alright," I said. Shoulders sagged in relief.

"Thanks for understanding—""But you're not staying near me anymore." His words of gratitude died in his throat. My head turned toward where I thought the cafeteria would be.

"I assume the others will be of the same mind. I wasn't the only one you attacked." I didn't catch the entire fight, but it looked like he'd assaulted pretty much everyone. No one would want someone in their midst who turned feral at the end of a vicious fight. What would we have done if we'd all run out of mana? What would have happened to me if he hadn't caught himself near the end? These thoughts must've been visible as they whirred through my mind. Kiba didn't even try to speak up for himself.

Instead, he merely lowered his chin to his chest.

"I understand. Whatever decision you and the others come to, I'll respect it. Worst case, I'll find my own way out of the dungeon." My lips pursed. The way he sat, with his big arm cradled in his lap and his head down, made me think of a hurt dog. Of Bentley, whenever she did something she knew was wrong that she just couldn't help but do. My lips stretched further down.

'Now it sounds like we're leaving him out to dry.' Though I was quite pissed, I wasn't trying to kill a classmate. He was obviously at fault, but if he really couldn't help what happened, punishing him severely was wrong. Also, Kiba wasn't a bad guy. He was quiet (this was the most I'd ever heard him speak), sure, but all of our previous interactions had been pleasant. When Shota had dragged me off my feet not even a few hours ago, he'd got into a position to help me.

He was also the first person to follow me out of the room and have my back. Did that make up for nearly killing me? No. But it counted… for something. A deep sigh left my throat. My arm flashed, and Kiba swiped the blue and red shimmer out of the air.

"A health and mana potion," I said.

"You should get yourself topped up." The wounds on his arm had closed, but he was still sporting scratches in some places. He flipped the potions and inspected their status text.

"Are you sure? I thought—""Your loss of control had to do with you taking damage, right?" That had him nodding carefully.

"Then we need to make sure you stay healthy," I said.

"I'd much rather have you in fighting shape—you carried us off quite a way." There was no telling what was waiting between us and the cafeteria.

"Thanks," he mouthed. The note in his tone was strangely deep. Like he had swallowed a sob. I spied on him from the corner of my sight. Kiba was a loner. Even if he was near people, he spent most of his time sleeping…was that because of the curse? Did he purposefully avoid others, so he didn't end up hurting them? Or was the curse such a drain on his energy that he couldn't help but fall asleep? I shook the conundrum out of my head.

"I wouldn't count on the others accepting you back so easily. Shota is probably going to want you kicked right away." Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. If it were up to the snob, he'd probably not let Kiba into the room, period. Kiba snarled, but otherwise didn't respond. I turned away toward the exit, but spun back around.

"By the way—" He looked at me over the top of the mana potion going down his throat.

"—why'd you embrace me when we fell asleep?" That was the one thing I couldn't understand. A wolf eating me, sure. But forcing me to hug him? He coughed and spat part of the potion on the floor. Then he coughed a few more times to catch his breath.

"…you smelled like Livana Lilies." My brow rose.

"Lilies?" His cheeks reddened.

"They're flowers that smell like the moon. Our estate has a field of them that I fall asleep in all the time." I blinked slowly. Strange things had happened to me today which I had no explanation for. But the one thing I could say for certain was that I did not smell like flowers right now. Not with all the running and fighting I'd done. That said, it didn't feel like he was lying.

'Must be related to his shapeshifting.' Who knew what the hell a wolf beast could smell? I couldn't compare my senses with theirs. So I left it at that and turned back to the exit. Briefly, I considered whether to wait for Kil to revive. The blob of energy in my core was still small. Fragile. Like an eggshell that'd break if I touched it with too little concern.

'He'll be out for at least another hour.' Which was longer than I wanted to stay here. The others must be getting nervous. Perhaps they were even considering chasing after us—that'd only put them in needless danger.

"Let's head out when you're ready," I said. Kiba's arm transformed back to normal a few minutes later. He spent some time levelling to level seven, then announced he was ready. We headed out. Though more than an hour must've passed since we arrived, the halls had not changed. Empty. Desolate. Too quiet for a person to keep calm.

"Can you tell the way back?" I asked. His brow raised.

"No?" From his tone, he was wondering whether he should take offence to that question. I huffed.

"I thought you could maybe smell a trail of lilies leading back." He breathed in sharply—"Sorry, sorry," I chuckled before he burst out.

"Couldn't help myself." Still, if he couldn't tell, we were out of luck. We'd just have to head in the direction we thought we came from— The hair on my neck raised before the shrill cry reverberated in my ears. We glanced at each other. That sounded like the cry of a person.

"A classmate?" he squeezed his bicep with one hand and turned quiet. On purpose. If there was danger, he could get hurt. …I bit my lower lip.

"Let's go." Robert pressed his eyelids shut as he leaned against the door. A warm stream trickled down the side of his pants; it was a minor inconvenience compared to the burn in his muscles and the heavy slams on the entrance.

'How did this happen?!' The thuds slapped memories back to the forefront of his mind. Just this morning, he'd been bragging to his little sister about how her big brother would awaken to an amazing power and become a famous mage. He laughed and sobbed.

'My fucking ass.' He had nothing but a meagre F-rank water affinity to his name. And now he was stuck in this hell! The tears started flowing when his piss stopped.

"This is wrong," he whispered.

"Just hold on!" Rick yelled over his whimpers. He had his legs stretched out behind him and shoved against the entrance with all his might. Three girls, whom Robert had met for the first time on the elevator today, had their backs against the entrance, too. Their heads were down, allowing the droplets of gleaming water to fall freely from their sockets.

"Jacob…" one of them cried.

"They killed Jacob…" Outside, the hobgoblin roared. There was a break in the smashing, which the five of them had learned was a sign of the beast rearing back for a heavy strike.

"Hold!" Rick shouted. They tensed— And almost flew backward from the force. Splintered wood flew over Robert's head onto the ground. He looked up at the tip of the club hanging an inch over his skull. The spikes were so close they touched his hair. The weapon pulled back, revealing the hallway on the other side. A putrid, green pupil looked through and locked onto him. Robert screamed and jumped away from the entrance.

"You idiot!" Rick yelled.

"Get back here!" But Robert's legs weren't listening. Without seeing the rest of its face, he knew the beast was grinning. And why wouldn't it be? [Hobgoblin - lvl. 9] The highest level among them was Rick at level 3, who'd lucked his way into killing a level five goblin. In front of this thing, they were slabs of juicy meat waiting to be ripped apart. The goblin pulled away from the door and levelled its club. This time, there was enough distance to confirm it was smiling.

"Robert!" Rick yelled.

"I'm sorry," Robert whimpered, backpedalling.

"I'm sorry…" Hinges gave. Bodies went flying. Most of the force hit Rick, who was shoving the hardest, and he would've slammed into Robert if he hadn't jumped out of the way. Robert crawled through the dirt onto his arms and looked back. Rick was quick to adapt. He struggled to lift the broken entrance off himself and one of the girls but managed through pure adrenaline. It didn't matter. The hobgoblin strolled through the entrance. It was a mere head shorter than Robert, who stood six feet tall.

Where the regular goblin runts wore rags, this beast wore leather. Rugged leather, but leather nonetheless. Its throat jerked repeatedly, and high-pitched rasps punched into Robert's bones.

'Laughing. It's laughing.' At the murder and feast about to happen. Three goblin runts appeared behind the hobgoblin and laughed as well. One of them even slapped its knees and fell rolling on the floor. A gesture that brought the hob no small amount of joy. Its grin widened as it stepped further inside. A stink entered the room with it that locked Robert's throat. This must be what meat left out in the sun for twenty days smelled like. The hob's gaze fell on the three girls in their party.

A thick tongue passed over its thick lips. Rick stepped in front of them and pointed a broken piece of the doorframe at the beast. The hobgoblin snorted and raised its club— A shadow blurred past the entrance, and the laughter of one goblin ended abruptly. Everyone turned toward the exit. Two headless bodies stood in the doorway. The goblin who'd been rolling stopped and looked up when they collapsed. His gaze turned to something further down the hall. When it did, all the mirth drained from its face.

It opened its mouth to shriek. And was yanked out of view with such force that the cry never left its mind. There was a sharp whistle, followed by a wet squelch. Then the sound of a sack dropping. Of the nine beings that'd occupied this space moments before, the remaining six held onto their hearts. But the hob was not like the human cowards. With a roar, it dashed into the corridor, its club primed to smash in the head of whatever had dared to attack its subordinates.

A dark silhouette reflected in its dirty pupils as it stared down the hall. Before it could take another step, a thick, greyish appendage wrapped around its torso, so it could barely move its arms. Its muscles strained against the limb and managed to loosen the bind. Moss squished as it struggled to get out. The steps were unhurried. Unworried. And stopped right out of view. The gob's gaze widened, enlarging the reflection in its eyes. The silhouette was still dark. Now the darkness was deeper, however. Closer.

There was a taste to it… a fear, which every mortal creature understood in their marrow. The beast roared and pushed against the bindings for dear life— A flash, then the greenskin went slack. Its head tumbled to the ground with the shadows stuck in its gaze forever. Beside Robert, the girls hugged each other. Rick put the stake down and linked his hands in prayer. Maybe, with the mercy of whichever god was watching, whatever was out there would not notice them.

Blood dripped down the curved edge of a wholly black scythe. A girl followed the length of the shaft into the entrance. She patted the appendage, which was still holding onto the hob, like it was some kind of pet.

"Thanks, Octo." The limb dissolved into a puddle of shadows. Lifting the scythe so that it rested on her shoulder, she turned to regard them.

"You guys alright?" A lithe figure stepped past her. The white-haired boy flicked the blood from his nails, which looked just as sharp as the scythe. Robert only paid him the barest piece of attention. All at once, he understood what the hob had seen moments before it entered the darkness. The deep depths. That solemn realm which mustn't be named, where the souls of the departed gathered in great swarms and cried for forgiveness. Some called it Hell. Others the Black Well. Not everyone believed in it.

Most thought it a children's tale, especially since the decline of the Black temples. But right now, in this place, Robert knew every tale about it was true, for the Reaper was standing right in front of him.