Chương 18: Hunger

Steel split, and the ends of the skeletons' swords flew to either side. The Carrion Blade broke the blades as if they were made of glass. The skeleton wasn't fazed by the destruction of its weapons in the slightest. It raised its half-blades as if nothing had happened and hammered them down on me yet again. The Carrion Blade purred in my hand, and raising it to meet the broken lengths of steel came as easily as breathing. CRACK! I met the jagged ends of the swords with the flat of the Carrion Blade.

Blood-red light poured out from the runes inscribed down its center. It was as if a vicious animal had empowered me, desperate to consume yet another soul. It needed to consume another soul. I shoved the skeleton back. Its chainmail armor jingled and sang as the giant creature, almost double my height, cowered away in fear. The flickering soul-flame in its eyes darted around the room, as if looking for a way out.

When it found none, it raised what was left of its sword in a defensive posture, crossing the blade in an X. But the Carrion Blade would not be stopped so easily. I drove the blade down, letting its rage and hunger fill me. The skeletons' swords shattered entirely as I carved through them. My blade bit several inches into the stone below, and I had to heave to pull it back out. Too slow. The skeleton discarded its weapons with grace, bringing its skull-sized fists down on me instead.

If only the skeleton knew that the Carrion Blade carved through bone easier than it did steel. In a sweep upwards, I relieved the giant of its arms. In a downward sweep, I relieved it of its body. The cut ran from the skeleton's shoulder to its hip. The Carrion Blade drank deep, severing the soul from the crumbling bones. [Notable Soul Harvested] It came like a punch to the gut. My core filled to the brim, but not so painfully as last time. I reflected inward. My fish tank had grown these last twenty-four hours.

It hadn't quite doubled in size, but had moved from perhaps a ten-gallon tank to a fifteen-gallon tank. The last Notable Soul I had harvested had nearly knocked me out, its form an amorphous blob. But now, it took the form of a large cichlid, black and orange in the shape of a Tiger Oscar. By itself, it filled up nearly half of my core, and stared at me with anger in its eyes. But I held it. I had gotten stronger. [Not like that you idiot!] Karen yelled. [I meant for you to release the soul as a projectile! Not channel it into your blade!] The sword became restless. As I held it, it rattled, urging me onward, desperate for another kill.

"But it worked—" [Of course it did. You're not prepared, nor powerful enough to handle an empowered weapon. Please, for once would you just listen to me?] Hollow and Patch caught up to me, panting, and it took all my might not to swing the sword in their direction. My knuckles grew white, and I strained to keep the blade pointed downward. What the hell is up with this thing? [You just fed it a juicy soul, and now it wants more.] My core panged, and I curled over.

[You're going to need to get rid of that soul sooner rather than later. It won't kill you, but it's probably best to turn back now.] The other giant skeleton tugged and pulled at its chain, stone and mortar crumbling with each charge. It would give out at any moment.

"Fine." I raised my hand and shouted: "Release!" [Wait don't release the—] The Notable Soul ejected out of the palm of my hand like a missile. I missed the skeleton by more than a few feet, but the power of the soul shattered the stone and blasted the skeleton to pieces. Left behind was a crater several feet deep, as if I'd blown up a stick of dynamite. [—Notable… soul. We could have used that! I was going to tell you to bring it down here to fuel the dungeon's essence! You humans just love to waste things, don't you?] The relief in my core was immediate. I grumbled, "There will be more." Patch whistled.

"Wow. You really messed that thing up." Hollow stared at the crater in the wall.

"You've been able to do stuff like that the entire time?"

"Kinda." All around us, the room blazed with chaotic energy. Fire spread, glaives still swung, arrows still volleyed. But without the skeletons acting as a ticking clock, we could move forward with ease. I drove the Carrion Blade into the floor, more than a foot into the ancient stone. Behave! I demanded. You will starve unless you behave. The blade barked back at me, and I released my grip, breaking our immediate connection.

"Go on," I said to Hollow and Patch.

"I need to recover after that." The two nodded, and moved forward without me. I leaned against the wall. What is this blade? I signalled to Karen. There is more to it than you've told me before. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work. [It is a blade forged with a thousand souls, forged specifically to be used by a Necromancer such as yourself. An arrow in your quiver. An anvil to your hammer,] Karen said, and then hummed.

[But as for specifics, they seem to have been lost when I was shattered. All I know for certain, is that there is more power in that blade lying dormant. I also know that you are simply not strong enough to contest it. No more binding souls to that thing.] A loud CLANG! came from the far side of the room as Hollow pulled down a lever. The rest of the traps silenced, and my small cadre of goblins and undead were free to move forward at last. Explosion approached me, both flaming eyes bouncing up and down excitedly.

"Quite the feat, my lord," Stick said.

"You have grown into your title a lot over these last few days."

"Thanks, Stick." Hollow stared up at the shadowy staircase, one hand on a dagger. Whatever she was feeling, I felt it too. The want—the need—to keep climbing. To keep going forward. What lies beyond? What secrets did this place hold?

"Let's get out of here," I said.

"We can go higher in the morning once we get some rest." Hollow deflated, but nodded.

"You all go ahead. I'll double check all the traps down here to make sure they are actually disabled. I would hate for someone to get hurt because that lever left a few active."

"Be my guest," I said.

"Take it easy, Hollow."

"I always do." I gritted my teeth, and pulled the Carrion Blade back from its stony harness. The hunger had waned; the buzzing subsided. But the glow remained just as bright. A few hours of climbing through the tower, and we had reached level five. Not bad.

"He killed them all?" Grelgo asked, his stare fixated on the black tower in the distance. Spit-tooth lay prostrate on the ground outside Grelgo's command tent.

"Without mercy, sir! We came in under the flag of peace, and he tore them all apart, limb from limb! He only spared me so I could spread the tale!" The scout was lying, of course. Grelgo knew Stick too well. The old goblin would not have stood for the slaughter of those under a flag of peace.

"How horrible," Grelgo said, twisting his face into a frown.

"I had no idea that they were capable of such acts of evil."

"Me either, sir! I'm afraid I will be scarred for life after what I saw. Poor Patch…" While Grelgo didn't believe that Stick or this Carrion King slaughtered his men wholesale, none besides Spit-tooth had returned. If a man like Patch was actually dead, that would be a wound that would haunt his men's morale for a long time to come. A bell rang at the far side of the command area. Beaten and bloody, two other scouts limped forward, notably, in far worse shape than the one sniveling in front of Grelgo now.

Grelgo's wife, Muutcha, led them forward.

"Grelgo. It's bad." She nudged one scout forward.

"Tell him."

"The humans!" the scout cried.

"The humans have returned!" A chill ran down Grelgo's spine. The timing…

"Just humans? Or were these Guild affiliated?"

"Unsure! They come from Ash Ridge. We tried to let them be as we were doing our rounds, but they attacked us without warning!" After all these years, after everything Grelgo had built up—the guild returned to tear it all back down. Things would be different this time. They had prepared for this. The Wilds were not the same as how they had been when the Adventurers first arrived out here. A generation of hard work had brought them to where they were today. But there was one problem. The tower.

A war on two fronts would be impossible. But the Guild might not be here for him at all. Perhaps all they wanted was the tower. But would they stop once they had it? Grelgo would not allow them to have it. Such treasures and riches would only empower the humans even more. And what of those to the south? If the northern humans had already arrived, what about the troll tribes? The beastmen? The demons across the great sea?

"Muutcha. Gather your mages and our munitions. Let us prepare to meet this Carrion King, and see what he is made of." Freddie pulled another arrow from the corpse of a goblin. His quiver was already too light, and the continued goblin assaults left him and his party beaten and worn. Six goblins lay dead around them, looks of shock still painted on their faces. The dense forest was the perfect location for an ambush.

This entire region was packed with ancient oak trees, winding roots, and a plethora of ferns and bushes. Mid-summer as it was, everything was bright green, a perfect backdrop for the goblins to hide in. Freddie supposed that they were lucky the goblins always yelled "Ambush!" moments before an attack.

"Where the fuck did he go?" Daron asked, wiping his greatsword clean of blood.

"These hills are crawling with goblins, and the only thing the man has is a fucking lute." Maudy, their party healer, shrugged, biting into an apple he had pulled from a tree earlier this morning.

"Raymond has always been a moron. Should have never let him go out on his own."

"He was only supposed to be gone for two days," Freddie reminded them.

"It's been over a week. We're wasting our time out here. He's dead." Freddie's party members looked at him, frowning. Daron spoke.

"You need to have a little more faith. I've never seen a situation that our bard couldn't talk his way out of!"

"That was before… that." Freddie pointed up at the black tower, narrowly visible through the thick canopy above them. Even miles away from the base of the monolithic structure, the cursed thing cast a dark shadow over everything. Four days since the quake. Four days since it emerged from the earth. They'd seen signs of Raymond's camps before it rose, but since then, the forest itself had shifted. Trees had fallen, old tracks had vanished. The damned tower should have sent them running.

Freddie plucked one last arrow out of the side of a tree.

"Let's face it. We've got to get back to Ash Ridge. The guild will be coming out soon enough, and we can put up a missing person sign or something to help find him." Daron sighed.

"Since when did the Wardogs give up so easily?"

"Right after Raymond left us to go on his stupid soul-searching mission," Freddie grumbled.

"I'm tired, man. I want to sleep on a real bed. Have a real meal." Maudy nodded.

"Well, we can't just go back to town empty-handed. We at least need to bring back information. They'd pay for information about the tower if we bring it." Freddie stared at the tower and shook his head.

"I don't want to get any closer to that thing."

"You're free to head back if you want," Daron said.

"Maudy and I can keep going." Maudy tossed the apple core over his shoulder, wiping his mouth clean with the sleeve of his purple robe.

"Come on, Fred. You're supposed to be the sneaky one. We'll get ourselves as lost as Raymond if you don't come with us." Freddie took a deep breath and pulled on his bowstring. He had seven arrows left, and their packs had enough food for another few days out here.

"Why do you always insist on taking the dangerous quests, Daron?"

"Because I know Maudy is good enough to fix me up!" Daron chortled.

"After this can we at least spend a few days back in town? Maybe Raymond made his way back without us. We can button everything up out here, and maybe even head back to Highview. I think I've had my fill of these woods." Daron rubbed his chin.

"We can talk about it." Freddie took one last look at the looming tower. The sun was setting, and the cold breeze announcing the soon-to-be night air settled in.

"We sleep on it. I'll make my decision with a clear head." Daron flashed a devilish grin, teeth yellowed from their journey.

"Attaboy."