40 Vermist (3)
The war in Narc raged on, with all civilians either dead or fleeing the chaos. The Hunters who stayed defended the city, but some fled. Half of the defenders were killed and eaten by the Fiends, who outnumbered and overpowered them.
Damion escaped after failing to kill the silver-haired Fiend. Thousands of Fiends guarded the perimeter of Narc, but they were D-Rank and C-Rank at most, capable of defeating him if they attacked together. However, since he focused solely on escaping, they couldn't stop him as he plowed through, killing hundreds and leaving Narc behind.
As long as...
Damion limped across a grassy field, clutching his cauterized stomach wound. His clothes were ragged and torn, yet he continued for days. Darkness crept into his vision as the trees and clouds above swung in a slow arc. His eyelids grew heavy, longing to shut, but he resisted. Although he gave up in the end, he was too tired to fight back.
I…
As he drifted off, a solitary wooden shack under a red sky appeared, and then everything faded to black.
****
The crevice Lilith entered narrowed as she descended, with the air becoming musty, muddy, and cold. She had to side-shuffle, duck, and cut through vines several times on the path. It eventually led to a circular cave with a high ceiling.
Moisture covered the stone and dirt floors. Dense vines and moss surrounded a murky pool of water in the cavern's center. There were no holes or crawl spaces that a Vermist could fit through. She crouched at the pool's rim, dipped her right hand in the water, and stopped when her fingertips reached the bottom. An arm's length. She pulled her hand out. Mud covered it and soaked her robe's sleeve up to half of her shoulder.
She wiped most of the mud off on the moss and stored her dagger away. Relaxation followed as she eased the tension in her shoulders and focused on her inventory. She needed a dry place to rest.
A tent was best, as it provided the most warmth and minor protection. Besides the several dozen human corpses she had for food, there were clothes—nothing usable for a tent—but she could use them as a makeshift bed.
She reached for them, but she stopped midway, but gave in—plenty to spare, plenty to spare—grabbing a handful of grey and black dresses and robes. A shimmering object caught her eye, but she ignored it. Placing the clothes on the floor, she spread and overlapped them for added comfort.
After adding the second layer, she sat down on it, crossed her legs, and focused on her inventory. A red spear was stabbed into one of the human corpses: Scarlet. How did it return?
Damion had thrown Scarlet into the gate, and she knew it wouldn't have gone far from where she collapsed. However, she was unable to pick it up while unconscious, although Ayin could have. Was the spear more than it seemed?
[Scarlet (Sealed)]
[Rank: D- -> D]
[Rank Tier: Basic]
[Type: Spear]
[Description: A spear stained in eldritch energy, corrupting its once-held ability of Divine Lightning. It devours the blood of all its victims, gaining strength as its thirst grows. The closer it gets to its former self, the stronger its thirst will have an effect on the user.]
[+25 Damage]
[Soul Bound: Lilith]
Everything was unchanged from the last time she checked it. She focused on Soul Bound. To her right, a descriptive screen appeared.
[Soul Bound: A weapon that binds and adapts to its user's soul, becoming an extension of the user. The first stage establishes a connection with the user. If the user is separated it for an extended period of time or distance, it will return. The second stage enhances the connection, enabling remote control and transforming it into a weapon that fits with the user. The final stage enhances all aspects, creating the ultimate weapon and improving the user's abilities.]
I see. At he time, she hadn't given it more than a glance since she couldn't risk it, with the civilians and Hunters running amok, stowing it away.
It was her first weapon that was adapted to the user. A weapon customized to the user's abilities, eliminating the need to adjust fighting style or skills. Was this weapon similar to divine weapons? If Gods and Demons bestowed them upon humans, what were they really? Why were they so similar, yet so different? Contracts that offered power and weapons that bound and grew with their users.
If Ayin was here...
Amid her inquiries, she untangled her crossed legs and lied down. The toll overwhelmed her, and she fell asleep.
****
Damion woke to a glass clinking in front of him. It happened randomly, ranging from every few seconds to minutes, and lasted for varying durations. He opened his eyes and jolted upright, his back smacking the chair's backrest. A wooden table was in front of him.
The table dominated the room, with a door at the opposite end. It's one exit; there were no windows or holes to crawl through. The room was empty except for a table and chairs. Then something caught his eye—something that his perception failed to detect.
A gray-haired man sat at the other end of the table, sipping tea with one leg crossed over the other. He placed his cup on the tray. His eyes were cold and devoid of emotion. A human. But something Damion couldn't understand suggested the opposite. It wasn't human.
[Twice, you have failed.] It said in a cold voice, projecting into Damion's mind.
"Twice? Failed? Who gave you the right to say that?" Damion asked, kicking his foot onto the table and attempting to spill the tea cup. His foot slipped through, bouncing off the floor below.
[Humans and their hubris.] Its left eye twitched, darting all around. Cracks appeared on its eye, extending to the bridge of its nose and reaching its right eye. The crack widened, splitting its head, and revealed a giant, three-lobed inhuman eye that locked onto him.
"Iths—" Damion was unable to speak or move.
[Damion Ventus, do not waste my time.] It cautioned as its voice echoed billions of voices, both male and female, repeating its words whenever it spoke. [Do you understand?]
I—
He lost his cognitive function.
[Good.] It smiled—a fake smile—and sipped its tea, but then dropped it, its mouth twitching. The tea cup, along with the tea, turned into dust.
[You gave disappointing results.] It sighed, tapping its finger. [You were tasked with finding Ayin and overcoming whatever obstacles there may be. You succeeded in locating it and came close to completing it, but you deemed the task impossible and fled, breaking our agreement. This mistake gave rise to a demon named Lilith.]
[A demon contracted to Ayin. But we gave you a second chance and an early reward to enhance your success. You failed again. I'm sure you can recognize this image.]
An illusory screen appeared before him, showing a woman in a black robe. Her long silver hair flowed down with her face exposed, hood down. Damion was drawn to her eyes. Blue—a crystal blue—a familiar blue.
How? Damion regained his cognitive function. How did he do it?
[As mentioned, she entered into a contract with Ayin. We're running out of time. I'll finish, and you'll return.] It said, waving away the screens.
I won't—
[Silence.]
The room shook as the table crumbled to dust, and the walls followed, unveiling a dark red sky. The shack's roof vanished, revealing a black sun—a circular void in the sky.
[Go to Divinteria.]
Both the floor and the final wall collapsed. The chair fell, and he slipped off. Darkness crept in, corrupting his vision and plunging him back into nothing and returned to something. The sun warmed his neck, while grass itched his face.
The golden sunlight blinded him as he rolled onto his back. He squinted, shielding his eyes, and pounded his fist into the ground. The grassland trembled and cratered, scattering dirt and grass everywhere.
"I'll turn that eye inside out."
