How Could I Have Forgotten?

"How could I have forgotten?" flared up in his mind, sparking an instant attempt to access the inventory of corpses. This was the place where he stored his unique collection of corpses and his undead. However, a new, red panel appeared before him.

[The space, which had previously been dominated by corpses and the undead, lay in ruins. Fortunately, everything inside was preserved by the necromancers and the Necronomicon in the battle against Tezad. Do not lose heart—this space can be restored; it simply requires a sufficient infusion of necrotic energy.]

"Damn." Vallynor cursed his misfortune. A sense of grievance grew within him: not only was the space destroyed, but all that belonged to him had been taken without his knowledge. Thieves... Scoundrels.

Vallynor fretted over the fate of all necromancers, secretly hoping that Experavit and Edward were merely injured. But deep inside, he felt they were no more. And these thoughts were but the shadow of his desperate hopes.

Meanwhile, his inner self screamed in agony. The pain was so severe it could only be likened to the loss of a mother or an act of murder. Yet they reached for the sacred as if seizing gold. An inner voice cried out: "Nothing is sacred!"

For every necromancer, corpses and servants were as precious as gold to the Jews. Thus, Vallynor turned into a little Jewish necromancer, embodying this image within himself. He even began collecting various corpses, gradually adopting the habits of his kind.

After several sighs, calmed, Vallynor pondered his next steps. The corpse repository was destroyed, but his draconic inventory and the soul pouch given by the Forest Queen remained intact. He managed to move one of the corpses there. Sitting in the lotus position, he closed his eyes.

Minutes later, he entered his body and saw his soul, a mosaic of colorful glass. Upon closer inspection, he discerned the spiritual energy within his soul, now half-depleted but still a source of strength.

Frowning, Vallynor thought about how to replenish his spiritual energy. One way was to use necrotic energy, mana, or any other form of energy. Vallynor needed necrotic energy, but the air was devoid of it—the magic had vanished along with the world's destruction, and the city attempted to restore energy with magical symbols on the ground.

Vallynor recalled the process of gathering energy in Annino, remembered the naked girl, daughter of Alexander, and the books received as a reward.

Suddenly, a roar tore through his stream of thoughts. Vallynor opened his eyes and saw a creature approaching. Its outline was not yet fully discernible through the trees. With a slight smile, Vallynor said:

"The second way to restore soul energy is to absorb the souls of other beings. Of course, this comes with certain risks, but Vallynor was concerned only with survival."

Before him, a slender figure appeared, resembling a creature with long limbs akin to branches. It approached slowly, moving on all fours and carefully observing Vallynor. He recognized it as a Stick Insect or "hand tree"—a creature that camouflaged as a tree branch, eliminating harmful insects and villains threatening the trees. They were masters of disguise and surprise attacks, with sturdy physiques.

"Damn." Vallynor swore, realizing the Stick Insect's body was as hard as the trees in this forest.

The creature attacked, raising its hands. But instead of dodging or fleeing, Vallynor slipped under it, suddenly finding himself behind.

Infusing his blade with necrotic energy, Vallynor struck at the joint connecting the upper and lower parts of the limb.

Fortunately, thanks to deep knowledge in biology and numerous sparring sessions with Alexander and other opponents, I achieved outstanding mastery in Pomology. This allowed me to successfully counter the Stick Insect Vallynor, even though he could not completely sever my leg. Limping, I turned to him, preparing for a counterattack, raising my hands. However, he swiftly dodged, using a tree as cover, while I, frozen in place, closely followed his movements.

Wasting no time, Vallynor extracted a bit of necrotic energy from his hand and dropped it onto the black sand, creating huge clouds of dark sand around him.

Looking at the gloomy clouds, I decide to turn my head away, slowly retreating. Passing by the tree where Vallynor was hiding, I open my eyes and attack him, aiming for his other leg. The enemy did not expect such a turn of events and failed to defend himself, losing the ability to move. Attempts to stand are cut short as control over the legs is lacking, and every step I take ends in a fall.

Seeing my helpless state, Vallynor sighs with relief. He feels something on his face and, touching it with his hands, discovers dirty, almost black blood.

"Blood?" - Vallynor immediately realizes that his spell, nearly depleting his energy, almost destroyed his body and even his soul.

Without delaying these issues, he turns to the enemy, who is still trying to attack him. Approaching slowly, Vallynor sees the Stick Insect slowly getting used to moving on its knees. He realizes he must destroy it before it learns to move again, or perhaps flee?

However, Vallynor recognizes his weakness: his body is wounded, and there is very little energy left. Sighing, he decides that the best solution is to run. Not the wisest choice, but at least the safest. Fleeing from the enemy, Vallynor begins to contemplate how to survive.

The Stick Insect, slowly rising, heads towards Vallynor. However, since he has gone too far, I lose sight of him and stop, listening to some sounds before heading in their direction.

Running for some time, Vallynor manages to encounter a few rats, which immediately attack him. Switching his weapon choice from a scythe to a sword, he easily kills three of them with four swings. Then, sitting down, he arranges the bodies in front of him and begins to meditate, gathering the necrotic energy released from the deceased beings. Unfortunately, the rat corpses are too small compared to ordinary cats, and the collected energy is not very significant. Vallynor holds the corpses in his hands and contemplates the possibility of creating undead from them. Maintaining such small creatures is difficult, but perhaps it's worth spending a bit more energy to create autonomous undead that won't constantly consume necrotic energy.

Sighing, he sends the corpses to his inventory, realizing that creating weak undead could become another burdensome task.

"I wonder if the Lich is still alive?" - Thinking, Vallynor tries to trace the connections between his undead and the lord Lich. He notices a few threads and immediately recognizes two of them: the Lich's thread and the thread of a rat he created long ago.

"Aaa!" - Calling for greater tension, Vallynor spends even more energy, trying to understand where he is. He only needs to know the direction, and when he is sure of his choice, he looks at his feet and sighs several times, cursing his fate.

He feels the threads of the Lich and the rat, as well as the threads of Annie and Eyeball. All of them are directed opposite to where he fled. This means he must return to where he came from.

Scratching his head and smacking his lips several times, he heads back, carefully bypassing the place where the Stick Insect stood.

Over time, Vallynor relaxed, encountering no enemies on his way. However, he considered his fate to be cruel and began to ponder: Is death sneaking up on me, or is fortune, like a harlot, making a mockery of my suffering? Vallynor was certain that one day he would end this fate, even if it led him to the goddess herself.

In the dense darkness, hidden behind a tree, the Stick Insect flared into view, and its vile smile spread like thorns. It followed with a greedy gesture—its hands reaching forward, eager to grasp me. Yet, its movement on its knees made it sluggish.

Taking a deep breath, I returned the scythe to its place and prepared for a counterattack. Approaching, I raised my right hand up, bringing it down with the blocking blade of the scythe, while the other hand aimed horizontally straight at the stomach.

I turned the scythe's blade, blocking its right arm. It slowly descended, caught in the trap of the weapon's inner part.

With a sigh, Vallynor, with his last bit of strength, directed the scythe's blade towards the other arm, blocking a second attack. The Stick Insect turned, and I was ready for the next move when I was knocked down, crashing directly into a tree.

One of the Stick Insect's legs hovered in the air, although the lower part swayed back and forth. Lowering its leg, the Stick Insect pounced on Vallynor, giving me no time to recover from shock or surprise.

Jumping, the Stick Insect extended its right arm, ready to tear and devour me. But it suddenly froze, collapsing onto the ground. The Stick Insect looked at its arm, dangling along with its legs, as Vallynor emitted necrotic energy from the blade.

Observing the Stick Insect's arm and its writhing, Vallynor realized where its weaknesses lay. Despite its impregnable defense, movement and maneuvers required more vulnerable points. The Stick Insect had the same weaknesses as any knight's armor.

The Stick Insect launched at Vallynor, fiercely attacking. I blocked every attack but occasionally sustained damage.

Waiting for the right moment, Vallynor managed to sever the second arm. After several rolls, he appeared behind the Stick Insect and directed all the necrotic energy into a strike at the neck.

The Stick Insect fell onto the black sand, emitting weak cries and groans. Vallynor struck a second time. The enemy fell silent, and its soul emerged. It entered Vallynor, who exclaimed joyously:

"Who's the top one here? I'll show you..." Vallynor fell silent, smacked his lips several times, then sat next to the corpse, waiting for the necrotic energy.

Looking at the corpse, he touched the limbs, feeling them drained, like trees. Leaving the corpse, he closed his eyes and began to meditate, dreaming of turning the Stick Insect into his undead. He even thought of making it a chimera, attaching the head of a strange alligator capable of attacking while the body attacks.

Necrotic energy slowly emerged in the Stick Insect's body. At one point, Vallynor felt something strange. Opening his eyes, he saw something gray flying from the sky. Rising and preparing for a new battle, he saw the soul head straight for the Stick Insect's corpse.

Without hesitation, he summoned the soul hand and caught it, preventing it from entering the corpse and reviving. Looking at the captured soul, he crushed it, then absorbed it, wishing to fill his soul with its energy.

As he transformed the shattered soul into soul energy, purifying it of impurities, Vallynor pondered: what happens to the souls absorbed after killing an enemy?

Diving into his inner self, he began to carefully explore his soul. The Soul Energy was more abundant than ever. However, he did not pay attention to this, focusing on the essence of his soul. Inside, everything was spinning and swirling, but his search did not yield the desired result. He headed to the pieces that led to this situation—soul pieces infected with demonic energy.

From what he remembered, these pieces, absorbing souls, transformed them into demonic energy, expanding the soul's damage zone. Eventually, the soul fully transformed into a demonic soul, becoming a demon's essence within a human body.

However, due to the uniqueness of his soul, it could not spawn other soul pieces. They were not a unified whole. Even if they were closely connected, it did not make them one.

Looking at the infected pieces, Vallynor found nothing unusual. However, just as I was about to look away, my attention was caught by a small but strange phenomenon on the edge of the infected soul piece. Could it be... the soul's restoration?

After several reviews, Vallynor looked at the soul shards again. He was pleasantly surprised by the possibility of restoring his soul, becoming whole again as before his arrival in this world. Joy overtook him, realizing that many requirements awaited at the higher soul stages.

Indeed, as he strengthened, moving up the middle rungs, he could restore his soul, but scars would remain. They could not be healed. This happens because ascending the rungs forces the soul to retain memories of past experiences. Thus, even after partial purification, a part of the soul remains steadfast.

Remembering how the soul is restored and healed, indeed, so it is, if the soul is entirely yours. But my soul was in utter disarray. Pieces of his soul, pieces of the Forest Queen, pieces of the soul infected with demonic energy, had already turned into pieces of a demonic soul, as well as pieces of the souls of fallen children.

Remarkably, I did not lose my essence and retained my abilities. Before becoming stronger, I needed to restore and purify my soul from extraneous memories. This process would continue until I reached the fourth level, when deep soul purification and partial transformation would begin.

Suddenly, Vallynor was seized by a sense of anxiety, and he quickly glanced at two parts of the soul, one of which was infected with demonic energy. A closer examination eased his worry. He realized that the demonic energy no longer spread to the other parts of the soul. But why?

Upon closer inspection of the infected soul piece, Vallynor realized it was no longer a piece of a human soul, but fully demonic. The demonic energy had completely transformed it, making it a unified whole, and now it could no longer spread. This led to the entire soul becoming demonic.

An unexpected turn of events, or perhaps predictable? Vallynor still remembered the Hero and Villain Effect, which granted him both roles. He also recalled Caesar's words, who forbade using the soul absorption function, as if foreseeing a complete change.

Looking into the dark void within his world or body, Vallynor began to doubt the reality of all these events and fateful gifts. And if someone in the darkness manipulates all this, or maybe he is just a novel's hero? Why do I get the impression that this is not just luck?

"What profound thoughts?" - he felt the approach of a new soul. Vallynor opened his eyes and saw the soul heading for the corpse, followed by a griffin. - "Philosophical musings can wait!"

He summoned the soul hand and intercepted it, directing it toward the corpse so that it could absorb the fragment with the help of his soul's demonic parts. Deciding to restore the soul as soon as possible.

The griffin screeched and charged at Vallynor. Bracing for battle, Vallynor slightly crouched, touching the ground. He silently released a demonic whirlwind from his mouth.

As the griffin approached, Vallynor skillfully dodged to the side. The spot where he had just stood was pierced by a spear, held in both hands, causing partial damage to the griffin's body and wing. The griffin shrieked, rubbing its injured limbs, preparing for another attack. Vallynor's gaze turned to the weapon, filled with necrotic energy, flying towards the griffin.

Wounding the griffin, Vallynor intended to retreat and find a new opportunity for attack. This required the griffin to miss its target, while Vallynor skillfully dodged, rolling. Pff, like in Dark Souls... The griffin began to flap its wing, and black sand started to rise, tearing off the griffin's left arm. Vallynor's eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly composed himself. He hid behind a tree as wind blades raised a sandstorm. Only the trees remained unharmed, their branches swaying slightly under the gusts of strong wind.

The griffin's loud cry echoed through the space, filling it with sounds of power and passion. Despite its wounds, the griffin slowly advanced towards the tree where Vallynor was. Leaning against the tree trunk, the griffin extended its head, beak open, emitting massive air waves that shook everything around, including the tree, which slightly leaned under the powerful impact.

The sand griffin slowly turned its head towards Vallynor, who stood with his scythe raised. The metallic blade of the scythe, wrapped in necrotic energy, was precisely aimed at the griffin's neck, turning the weapon into something extraordinary, charged not just with sharpness but also with magic.

Before the scythe's blades touched the griffin's feathers, necrotic fire blazed, like flame to gasoline, spreading across its body. The scythe's blade pierced the griffin's neck, severing a third of its body. Vallynor was thrown aside, and the scythe flew in the opposite direction. Before the griffin's arm could separate from its body, it reunited with the scythe, as if a living force drew it back.

Observing his wounds and clutching his hand, Vallynor tightly held the scythe. He watched as the griffin extinguished the necrotic fire, revealing its true nature. The griffin remained alive, half-dead, half-demonic, with a desiccated neck and burnt wing, covered in flesh turned to rot under the effect of necrotic energy. However, the griffin did not fall; instead, it surrounded itself with powerful winds.

The griffin's gaze fixed on its opponent—an old, wounded man, desiccated and shriveled, like cured meat. Yet, these changes could not stop the griffin, filled with a thirst for flesh and hatred for all with pure souls. Driven by this dark passion, the fallen creature saw Vallynor's soul as exquisite bait, and nothing could stop it.

Vallynor touched the sand, uttering, "Land of the Dead." From his inventory, he extracted a weapon and threw it on the ground. Hands emerging from the sand grabbed the weapon and disappeared back into the sand. The griffin lowered its head, wings rising towards Vallynor, preparing for the next phase of the confrontation.

In an instant, surrounded by black sand, swords, hammers, spears, and various weapons burst from the ground's depths, swiftly aiming at the griffin. The winds enveloping it managed to deflect most of the attacks, but it slowed its assault, hearing the following words whispered behind its back.

"Hand of Exhaustion!" Vallynor's voice pierced the air. Weakness enveloped the already wounded and tormented body of the griffin. However, the next words left the griffin devoid of the last bits of strength: "Hands of the Soul!"

Invisible soul hands penetrated the griffin, seeking to extract its soul. Meanwhile, Vallynor's body began to desiccate, becoming akin to a mummy. But then, slowly and astonishingly, it began to regenerate. Wounds healed, flesh was restored, and the cloak slowly returned to its previous state. When the griffin fell to the ground, its soul had already been absorbed, and its body had dried up, turned into skin and bones, too fragile to withstand even a light touch.

Vallynor's gaze turned to his hands, slightly blackened, and flesh that had slightly desiccated. An internal sigh of relief escaped his chest. Sitting on the ground, he looked up and laughed. The Hand of Exhaustion—a necromancer's spell capable of drawing energy from whoever you touch. It also affected the caster. It exhausted Vallynor's body but, instead of depleting his energy, endowed him with necrotic power, allowing him to turn the tide of events in his favor.

Vallynor harbored no fear of receiving injuries or losing the ability to move when casting the spell on himself. After all, he was already half undead, half alive. This spell, even if it damaged the body, would allow Vallynor to maintain control over his body and move until his physical form was destroyed.

From his body emerged a soul hand, deftly catching several souls. Instead of absorbing them to restore his own soul, Vallynor decided to preserve them. He intended to use these souls to reach the threshold between the second and third stages of the soul. This was his trick—to accelerate the progress of training his body, using the Hand of Exhaustion. Vallynor felt the griffin's desiccated body being restored and becoming stronger.

Only the stage of the mind remained. In this direction, things were not as smooth as with the previous two stages. To develop the mind, Vallynor needed to meditate and create various spells. This was necessary to adapt his mind, soul, and body to different types of energy, whether necrotic or mana. According to Caesar's words, getting accustomed to these energies determined future freedom of action.