Loren

The inn was eerily quiet now, the heavy stench of blood and death permeating the air. The bodies of the bandits lay strewn across the room, lifeless and cold, their mana dissipating into the ether. I sat in the middle of it all, cross-legged on the blood-soaked floor, my hands resting on my knees as I breathed in the death around me.

The flickering starlight that had once danced across my estoc was now dim, the purple glow fading into the shadows as the energy of those I'd killed began to seep into my body. It was subtle, but I could feel it—the mana of death, flowing like a river, coiling around my core and infusing my body with cold.

'It's different...'

I closed my eyes, allowing myself to focus on the sensation. Human death. It had a strange quality to it—stronger, richer than the death mana I'd absorbed from monsters in the past. It was almost intoxicating, this thick, potent energy that filled the room.