Life in Mirkaz flows once again, people running around, guards patrolling the city as usual, everything looks normal. It's as if the previous day's events never happened, like it was a bad dream.

But it wasn't.

There are dead, there is mourning, but the city came alive once again nonetheless. Vendors selling their products, artisans resumed their craft, adventurers are accepting quests once again, no smiling or laughing yet, but the city is alive, slowly recovering.

Unbelievable.

A waiter in his late teens slowly walks to my table, his legs visibly trembling, eyes looking straight on the floor, like he's horrified to look at something, or someone. He tries to tenderly place the tray onto the table, but his trembling hands betrayed him at the last moment, and the tray clatters against the wooden table, nearly spilling its contents all over me. His sharp exhale made his figure soften, nearly falling to the ground, like a puppet that lost its string.

"Greatest apologies!" he nearly screams from the bottom of his lungs, making a ninety-degree angle with his back and waist.

He continues his stream of excuses and starts to slowly move away with his head bowed, until his eyes meet mine. The moment they do, he yelps and leaps away, hitting the stone wall of the building with his back. He mumbles another apology and nearly runs away, leaving the tray still on the floor near the wall. From the moment the waiter approached, till now, my left hand never left the pommel of the short dagger on my hip, gripping it tightly.

Unbelievable.

I haven't slept at all. Every second was spent on patrolling the alleys, where the corrupted usually gather. Emergence isn't a small skirmish, it's a drawn out battle that has no end. The moment you think that it's finished, is the moment they attack and you die. After not finding any corrupted within the first hour, I was already prepared for the worst, the next waves. During the emergence Liches and corrupted are always on standby around the target city, waiting for the escapees, which after getting caught, are killed and "turned" then sent back into the city to rain chaos once again.

Nothing.

Not a single new corrupted.

Even worse, after asking the guards several times, they repeatedly stated that no one has seen a Lich.

Not a single one.

What the actual hell?!

Yes, the number of corrupted wasn't big, less than a dozen thousand, but this doesn't change the fact that the "Emergence" happened. It feels as if I'm still half-asleep, or under some kind of mind spell, and the illusion will end at any moment, and everything will turn into the usual nightmare.

I expect every person to either turn inside out, transform into creatures of darkness, or leap at me while yellow and red veins appear throughout their bodies, commanding the half a city of followers under them. I'm still waiting for all of the people in the city to simultaneously turn their faces in my direction and start laughing that they got me, that they tricked me like a greenhorn.

I don't have a Seer with me which could've easily solved all of the problems and doubts I have. Because of that I took a great risk and searched for the Seer that I saw at the city's entrance. But as I expected, fate would never give me such a gift. The guards told me that he was one of the first to be killed, a sudden spell appeared out of nowhere.

[You blame fate for the competency of our enemies?]

Competency huh?

Anyways, I'm stuck. How do I verify that everything I see right now isn't an illusion.

My eyes involuntary return to my right hand, and by my command each one of the fingers moves slightly. They should be real. The feeling of warm blood flowing through the veins, that strange feeling when you can 'feel' your own flesh, and the roughness of texture on the wooden table that my fingertips are touching, tells me enough.

"I am telling you he is some kind of NPC related to the main quest!" a boy with black hair loudly says in one of languages of the summoned that I don't understand. There are quite a few summoned.

The boy looks to be barely over twelve, with strange glasses made out of high quality quartz and some kind of black glossy material.

"Calm down Kevin." a guy in his early twenties replies.

"Paul he must have some kind of epic back story with revenge and stuff! Did you see how easily he killed all of the corrupted and that huge dragon?!"

"I said calm down." growls the guy who's name I believe to be Paul.

I know few words from the language Richard spoke, but not enough to understand the topic of their conversation, and by the boy's tone, I assume he's excited about something, while the older one tries to calm him down. Right now three of the 'local' summoned are sitting with me, a tall guy with short black hair, who is most likely their leader, the healer 'Pam', who restored my right hand, and the child with black hair.

Huh?

Looking closer, not just the hair, but also the facial features of the younger and older one look similar. Parent and child? No, the age difference is too small, brothers more likely. They continue speaking between themselves about something, while I scan the inn for any signs of corrupted.

There must be at least few corrupted left, hiding somewhere in plain sight.

Even if they try to look human, they're not. Although they're very skilled actors, which is one of the main reasons it is so hard to root out the emergence before it happens, they can't fully replicate all the tiny pieces of human behavior.

[Which we could never replicate well. We can barely fit into human society.]

[Calling us human is even a big stretch.]

[Useless sack of blood, flesh and regrets.]

A few moments later Lekana, the dog-eared twins, and four other heroes enter the inn. Looking around Lekana's eyes stop on me, and a huge smiles breaks on her face. With a happy hop she leaps to me, behaving the same way she had few days ago. Nothing seems to have changed in her, but you can never be sure. The corrupted usually hide in the ones you least expect.

"And here is our ‘Blood Angel’!" Lekana exclaims with a smile, after which she sits down on chair to my left.

Most of the people in the city are whispering other names between themselves. Soon the other summoned come closer, and connecting several tables with the one I am sitting at, make one long table with everyone sitting together around it. After several moments of awkward silence, everyone's eyes turn to me. The one who breaks the silence is the tall guy with black hair.

"First of all I would like to thank you for helping us yesterday. I do not know what would have happened if you didn't come. Truly thank you." he finishes with a slight bow.

Everyone else of his group repeats the same action.

"I would like to re-introduce ourselves again. My name is Paul." gesturing to the young boy, he continues "This is Kevin, my brother."

"Hello!" the child says loudly, nearly screaming. My eyes dart once again to the tiny staff in his hands and the long sword on the hip of his older brother.

"I'm Pamela, but everyone calls me Pam." says the girl in white says, like nearly every healer I've seen before.

Does wearing white clothes somehow improves the healing abilities?

"Kurt." smiles the widely build guy with dirty blond hair and stubble on his face. His thick armor, shield, and mace should be extremely heavy and hard to move in, but the guy moves so effortlessly and fluidly, like he's in skin-tight leather armor.

"Valentine, a pleasure to make you acquaintance." continues the person near him with green eyes, and long dark brown hair gathered into a bun. I can't find a weapon anywhere near him, could mean that it's either hidden, or he's a close-quarters fighter. But because of his slim build, and the baggy, clothes my bet falls on some kind of wizard or mage.

"Victoria." the woman with long velvet black hair, and lighting blue eyes, says with coquettish smile. Two short daggers on her hip, smooth and precise movements, thin long limbs and sharp eyes tell me that she more likely favors speed and precise attacks.

"Timur, son of Darman." shortly states a man with short black hair, who could easily be mistaken for a boy because of his height. But the mustache on his face and calm expression tells otherwise.

A bow, but no arrows. Mana archer?

[People politely introduce themselves, and the only thing you can think of is what is their way of fighting, and what could their weakness be.]

[Truly a man of the people, who sees the best in everyone.]

"Hello! I am Lekana, these guys are Tagaro and Nagoro." Lekana suddenly chimes in, pointing at the duo to her left. "And this is Alan." she finished with a smile leaning on me. I couldn't stop my brows from raising, and I wasn't the only one who let his emotions slip. Each person showed their own emotion, reacting to the situation in one way or another.

This is getting out of hand.

The awkward silence was broken several seconds later by someone who looked as if he was unbothered by the current atmosphere.

"The number of possessed was extremely abnormal though." says Valentine "Their constant flow left me no opportunity to prepare a massive spell."

"Yeah, we have never encountered so many possessed in one place. As Oracle said, things are starting to move..." Paul continued.

Encountered? This isn't their first time?

Many?

A dozen thousand corrupted is many?

That's less than a tenth of an average-sized city.

Cities with a population of more than several million have disappeared into the abyss of rage and destruction over-night several times, in the last decade alone.

"Alan?" A female voice breaks my thought process in pieces.

Looking in the direction where the voice came from, I find the raven haired woman looking at me with a seductive smile.

"Lekana told us that you are traveling to the Endless Empire. We are actually going there too. Would you be interested in joining us? We all would be very happy if you would."

"Of course! We would love to!" Lekana says a few short seconds later, not giving me time to think.

The woman, Victoria, if I remember correctly, smiles at Lekana with a bit of a forced smile, but Lekana is already talking with someone else with a happy smile on her face, discussing food once again.

While the group is talking, my keen hearing picks up the talk in the corners of the inn. They're all talking about the events of the previous day, and two specific words are repeated the most.

"Blood Demon"

It is kind of ironic that even here, where neither the Brotherhood, nor the church of Zeron exists, the same title was given to me. Although there are a few rare exceptions where people use 'Blood Angel', but that number is tremendously smaller than "Blood Demon", and Lekana is one of the rare exceptions.

[Who knows, maybe she says the other version when you are not around.]

Angel, demon, spirit. Same shit, different container.

...

Yesterday, throughout the whole day the stares never left me. The terrified stares of horror, as if they saw a monster walking through the streets. I know those stares well, I've seen them for too long to confuse them with something else. But I didn't care about them back then, because the clock was ticking and I still hadn't found any corrupted, much less a Shepherd.

In the end, I found none.

So much is wrong here that I don't even know where to begin.

How were the corrupted able to cast fire element spells?

Are they really 'corrupted'?

They should be. They behaved and acted...nearly the same way.

[No they didn't. They were nothing like anything we have seen before.]

[And don't even try to downplay the fact that shepherd we killed after coming out of wyvern talked.]

[IT FUCKING TALKED!]

[Talking fire corrupted. A city surviving an emergence. And to top it all off, the whole city is talking about corrupted as if they are some harmless wild dogs.]

The word 'corrupted' is never said aloud. A single mention of even the possibility of someone turning would be enough for the region's leaders to abandon the city altogether. That single mention is enough to summon the whole Blood Brotherhood and the Blood Legion together. Every single creature in a several hundred kilometer radius would be scanned by Seers, questioned by elite torturers, and much, much more.

But no, people are speaking about 'possessed' out-loud in public.

Shit.

The fuck do you want Zeron?

It took some time to piece everything together, and a sleepless night of walking around the city to end up with the only being who would benefit from me surviving. I was never a devout follower, never was overly religious, and I often questioned his existence altogether. But HE exists, therefore, so there must a true creator and other 'gods'.

What 'god' would allow its followers to disappear from the face of the earth?

In some fucked up way, I somehow ended up being the most devout follower.

Blood. Violence. Destruction.

Survival...

But what's the goal?

Is the meeting with the summoned just a single milestone to get me healed, or is there a bigger picture?

Does Zeron even want the same things I do?

I try to remember all the chants Kilan, my closest Blood Brother, said. All those chants and the religious gibberish were usually ignored by me, but now I suddenly need to dig it out from the depths of my memory.

'...purging the darkness...'

'...bringing the blood to blood...'

'...father and death of all...'

I scowl at all the useless bullshit that comes up. All the priests singing about how ‘Almighty’, ‘Endless’, and ‘All-seeing’ he is, how noble and merciful he is.

If you truly are so mighty as you claim, why am I the only one left of your followers?

Or do you truly think that I alone will be enough?

...

The moons in the nearly pitch black sky somehow look bigger than usual, with more defined textures on their surfaces. But I'm not sitting on the rear porch of the inn because I'm enjoying the view. Looking at my right hand, I try to remember the exact feeling when it was restored by the summoned healer. Everything happened in an instant. I lay bleeding, a piece of useless meat, and the next moment I feel energy overflowing from me, like it hadn't in years, burning inside of me, like a volcano about to erupt.

Trying to remember the feeling, I find out that the feeling wasn't localized. It wasn't only the damaged areas that were regenerating, but rather it was as if the whole body was being healed from the inside.

Am I doing it wrong with focusing on damaged areas and trying to conserve the nutrition I have?

After looking at my left hand and fingers for several long seconds, I take out the short dagger and press it against the index finger of my left hand. I've been wanting to try and experiment on healing the fingers on my hands for quite some time, but you can't experiment on the only real tool you have left.

No. It's better to test it on the least important finger.

I move the blade to the top most tendon of the pinky finger, and cut sharply. The finger starts to bleed rapidly, but I focus on the area and direct the nutrition there, and slowly the bleeding stops. Slowly, millimeter by millimeter, the missing part starts to grow back. It takes ten minutes, and the finger finally returns to its original state, albeit missing the fingernail.

Ten minutes of single minded focus for just a tiny piece of finger....

No one will give me ten minutes.

The blade moves to the pinky again, cutting the newly regenerated flesh. I circulate my mana around the body. The temperature of my body, and its blood pressure sharply rises as whistling fills my ears. I direct the energy to the missing pinky, and the missing finger starts regrowing slightly faster than before. When it finally returns to its previous state, I estimate the time taken to be nearly half of what it was before.

Twice the speed, but I wasted at least several dozen times more nutrition and mana just to make the body reach its appropriate state.

Is it really worth it?

No, the feelings close, but its not exactly the same as when I was healed. There was more burning, but somewhere else, somewhere deeper.

Muscles? No.

Blood? Close but not exactly.

Bones? Yes, but not just them, there was something...more.

I cut the pinky once again. And repeat the experiment, but this time sending more mana into the area around the bones themselves. Mana and blood start pumping once again with more strength than before. As soon as the whistling in my ears becomes nearly unbearable, like a geyser under pressure, I explode, sending all of the energy into the pinky. My vision tunnels, but I watch as the missing flesh grows much faster than before.

I'm on right track.

The dagger cuts the flesh again, and I repeat the experiment. But this time I send the mana deeper into the bones.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Faster.

Faster!

FASTER!!

As I'm about reach something, I hear footsteps from behind me coming closer. I stop instantly and my vision returns to normal. Looking down, I find a small pile of bloody pieces of meat, and by instinct shove them under the wooden veranda. A second later I see black ears peak out from the side alley, quickly followed by curious eyes. The several second long stare is broken by a quiet voice.

"Hello."

"Hello." I reply back.

"I was searching for you." she's looking down at the ground.

Searching huh. Demi-humans have exceptional hearing and sense of smell, she could've easily found me by smell alone.

"No one knew where you were, so I had to walk through the whole inn."

"Is there something you need?"

"No...um...I actually wanted to talk with you..."

Her eyes try to look into mine, but she looks away nearly instantly.

"Um...during the...fight, you screamed something in a foreign language...and it looked like you were...in pain...and searching for something, or someone..."

"What is 'Dee-Fivte-faive'?"

"Nothing." I state shortly.

"But you were-"

"Nothing." I repeat making direct eye contact.

Looking down at the ground, she falls silent. But the silence is broken just few seconds later when she continues,

"I am sorry. I just wanted you to know that you don't have to hold it all inside of yourself. I am here to listen to you and-"

"Co-travelers." I cut her off sharply.

She looks at me with stunned look.

"We are co-travelers. We formed a temporary travel group."

Lekana looks at me, confused, but I don't give her the chance to continue.

"Next time you want to add more people to the group, you will discuss it with all members of the group. Some of them could be against it, and it is not up to you to make the decision yourself without consulting the others."

Lekana's mouth opens and closes without making any sound, until it audibly closes with a click.

"I am sorry." she whispers quietly.

"Good. Is there anything else?"

She stands for few long seconds, trying to say something, but can't. I look into her deep blue eyes, not blinking, firmly showing my position. The long stare is broken when she looks away with pained face. Lekana turns around and slowly walks away, not turning around even once with her head faced down, her tail dragging after her.

[Well executed. We can be proud of ourselves.]

Shut it.

Do not dare to forget why we are here.

Do not dare to forget what we are.

Purge those dreams and illusions.

It will never happen.

However many times we try it, it always ends the same way.

You want to dig another grave?

It does not matter what we want.

It does not matter what these people want.

It does not matter what the fucking gods want.

There is only one future that awaits us, and HE will use everything he has, every life available to him, every weakness we have, every opportunity that exists.

We need to be prepared.

I move blade to my left hand and cut off the pinky finger at the root, the blood starts flowing out of the wound, coloring my hand blood red. By my command, the blood in my veins starts boiling, circulating, gathering mana throughout my body, sending it to the finger.

"The weak will not succeed."

Once restored, I cut the finger again.

"The slow will not reach."

I cut again.

"The soft will not survive"

Again.

"We all will die."

Again.

...

Tomorrow morning the caravan will depart, heading straight north, through the desert to the shores of the northern ocean. I spoke with caravan leader again, and he was much more humble this time, overly polite. As if he was afraid to irk me in any way. And that change may be connected to the emergence, or the fact that I ripped apart a few assassins today early in the morning. Sneaky bastards attacked between the deep night and early morning hours when everyone is usually deep asleep. They believed that it would be an easy kill.

They were wrong.

The whole inn came alive once screams started. A huge amount of half-asleep adventurers came running through the building into my room, breaking through the wooden door in the process, coming to help to the unfortunate resident. But they weren't prepared for what awaited them in my room, the body parts of a half-dozen assassins littered my room. The whole floor was painted blood red, with guts and innards hanging on the bed frame, window sill, and the walls.

After a short talk with inn's owner and the city guards, that arrived quite late, I was given a new room, with the promise to find those that sent the assassins. Yeah, right. Guards doing their job, a nice fairy tale. Whats next? The kings become noble and fair? Truth and righteousness becomes the core beliefs of society?

Ha. Right.

It just happen that they were quite late, it just happen that the assassins knew that I wouldn't have a weapon with me. If I would've taken the sword yesterday everything would have finished faster, or it wouldn't have happened at all. But no, I just had to tell the blacksmith to do a quality job, and to sharpen it well. And to top it all off, I even gave him the last weapon I had on myself, a small dagger, to sharpen as well.

Politics, spies, assassins and shit.

I could go through the information broker, and squeeze the information out of him, even get a name and address, but I didn't, at least not yet.

Anyways, after the short talk with the caravan leader, I went straight to the blacksmith. And as it looks, he already heard about the events of the previous night, because during our whole interaction he was sweating excessively, and constantly saying how sorry he is that he's so slow.

Do I hold this idiot responsible?

Was it him?

Maybe one of his apprentices, who are currently hiding in the backroom, shared that piece of information with the wrong crowd.

So many ifs.

[Killing a person only because of suspicion, just like those nobles you detest. You truly learn from the best.]

Trying to end the discussion as fast as I can, I quickly attach the new sword and scabbard to my belt. After checking that the dagger was actually sharpened, I put it into the tiny scabbard on the opposite side. As I'm about to exit, I remember the last several times I've had something puncture my chest, and decide to buy a decent set of chain-mail and some sturdy shoes.

Exiting the blacksmith's, I go directly to the closest food stall and buy a wide range of dishes, cooked in a variety of ways, and out of a wide range of ingredients. Not waiting for even a second, I start swallowing the food, not even tasting it. I overdid it a bit with yesterday tests, and I burned up nearly all of my fat reserves. Because of that, my breakfast was quite big, although it disappeared nearly instantly when I started sending the nutrition throughout my body. So here I am, a few hours later, going food stall to food stall, eating like I starved for months.

The results of tests are decent though. With each iteration, I was able to push the limit down to two minutes for a whole finger. Next are the tests for efficiency. There's no logical reason to send every single part of the body into overdrive to heal a single finger, or at least I hope there isn't. I felt that there's something in the blood or maybe the bones, which increases the healing speed, but I'm not sure what it is. There's the option to ask the summoned healer how her healing works, but I am pretty sure that I'll get the same answer as always,

"you ask the god for the miracle and it comes",

or

"you just wish for the part to heal",

or

"you direct your external mana from the gates into the area around the wound and it simply heals".

My obsession with body structure and how everything works in body is usually frowned upon, so I had to go through a more...hands-on approach. The knowledge I have, only comes from my personal experiments... For quite some time I had shied-away from the idea of simply 'opening' a dead body up, and looking at how exactly everything works, and I simply studied through my battles and the way my body behaved. But you can only go so far with that method.

The moment I stepped over those 'limitations', a whole new world opened up.

Maybe its because of that, that I'm so proficient in internal mana manipulation, healing, and controlling my body. I still remember the astonished look Richard gave me when I told him that there are no books about 'anatomy', which he had explained is a term for the study of the body and its structure. Who needs to know how the body works if anyone, with enough social or economic status to even care, can simply go to church or healer and get himself instantly healed.

Who cares about 'anatomy' if you can simply cast a healing spell?

Only a failure like me.

What I would give for a single book like Richard described, and if he didn't lie, his world has whole libraries of them.

After finishing another circle around the city to verify that there were no corrupted present, I am left in a slump.

This makes absolutely no sense.

The emergence happened, and it ended. Its as if they all ran away, but such things don't happen. They fight to the very last one, trying to maximize the damage they inflict.

I continue walking until I see an open area, where I can hear words of encouragement and cheers. Coming closer to the origin, I find people around an arena with diameter of about thirty meters. In the center of it two of the heroes are sparring with each other, Paul if I remember correctly, and the one with huge shield, Kurt. The people continue cheering as the summoned fight, a few of them closer to me even start discussing the battle, how fast the fighters are and how fierce the exchange is.

Is this a joke?

Their speed is barely acceptable, and their technique is utterly appalling. No footwork, every move is rigid and predictable, no intent to maim or kill whatsoever, its like watching a scripted dance.

Richard wasn't like that at all. Yes he was lazy, and kind of strange, but when you got him going, he could go far beyond what constitutes average. Though I still had issues with him using the 'Rapier'. He described it as a deadly weapon, but to me it was more of a oversized needle than a decent sword.

Are my standards too high?

No, it simply can't be. There are catastrophic beings in this world, for which term 'demigods' wouldn't even be appropriate, and comparisons to them would be utterly incorrect. But an average Blood Legion officer would give better results than the summoned before me. No, there is no Blood Legion anymore, they're called the Sun Legion now, and I shouldn't forget that. Looking at the pathetic fight once again, I think over what can I do.

[Nothing. No one asked for your help. No one needs it.]

They'll all either succeed or die, as has everyone before them. As I'm about to leave, a woman in a white dress appears before me.

"Hello Mr. Alan, how are you today?" she chirps happily.

It takes several seconds to process the question and I finally squeeze out "Okay."

This is new, I've heard the question addressed to other people a few times, and it was even once directed at me, but it was more of an official greeting then. But this, this somehow felt like she was genuinely concerned and interested. Looking at the spar in the center of arena she smiles.

"The boys were stretching out, and before we knew it, people gathered around." chuckling, she continues "And now because of their pride they're trying not to look bad in front of the crowd."

"Hey! I hear you!" screams Paul.

"Sir Alan would you like to join us?" Kurt unexpectedly joins in with a wide smile.

"I know that it is impolite to ask this of you when you are still healing, but I would be very grateful if you could give a few pointers to these idiots." says Pamela with the same cheerful smile.

My first thought is to politely refuse, but I stop when I remember that this girl healed my hand, and I am in her debt.

[And here is the cue, someone asked for help. So, what are you going to do?]

If I break my life into scenes, there's only constant movement, destruction, and blood. And whenever I made an attempt to change, to create rather than destroy, only one thing followed, death.

Will this time be different?

Will I be able to even change anything?

Maybe this is what Zeron wanted originally. Does he want me to train the new summoned?

What then?

Enough overthinking.

We all will die, disappearing from this world forever.

I owe the summoned a debt.

And maybe, just maybe they won't end up like me or......Luna.

"Okay." I state calmly.

"So which one of us would you like to spar with first?" says Paul teasingly.

"Both" I reply dryly. They need to survive, and for that they need to learn.

They both chuckle.

"I am sorry Sir Alan, we know you are strong, but both at the same time?"

"Come on, seriously, with the intent to kill and maim, or it will only bring you more pain."

Their eyes turn to more serious, and playfulness fully disappears, but arrogance did not. So the hard way huh.

"Do not regret that, Sir."

They both move into position as I walk to the opposite side of the arena. After several long seconds of standstill, Paul explodes into action, appearing before me with his sword brandished a few seconds later, directed straight at my shoulder.

Slow and indecisive.

In the next instant, a single kick into his abdomen sends his body flying back, straight into the shield of his comrade, toppling both of them to the ground.

Petrified, Pamela looks at the duo on the ground in shock. It takes several seconds for her to grasp what happened, after which she runs to both of them and casts a healing spell. A few seconds later. Paul stands up, groaning, and looks at me with astonishment in his eyes.

"Slow and predictable. Again."

He gets into position again and the mana around him flares up, to which people around audibly gasp. The next instant he disappears, only for his image to ripple into existence few meters in front of me.

Idiot.

This time I don't hold my strength back. My foot impacts his chest, and I feel his rips crack, after which my leg buries his body into the ground, creating a crater several meters in diameter. A few seconds of silence are interrupted by a scream from healer in white clothes, and she instantly rushes to the guy in under my foot, after which I step back.

"Learn from mistakes or you will die."

As the healer's hands light up and Paul's chest expands back out as he coughs out several large globs of blood. Pamella looks at me with scared eyes, and tries to say something, but before she can I hear the splitting of air and move my head to the right. I feel something sharp traveling just few centimeters away from my neck and its vital vein, the jugular. My left hand instantly shoots out and grabs the new foe's hand. I slam the person, who I caught, into the ground a meter away from Paul and Pam, creating another small crater. The attacker wriggles in pain and tries to breathe, though the long black hair that fell across her face didn't make it any easier.

"You wasted a whole minute doubting, and when you finally did attack, its when everything is already over."

"Pathetic." I state dryly "Heal them."

Several seconds later they start breathing normally while groaning in pain, glaring at me in hatred.

"If you have enough energy to glare than you've healed enough. Stand up and attack, together, as a team."

Burning with dark emotions, they start attacking with their huge auras flaring around them. The earth underneath them explodes into debris as they lunge at me, only for their attacks to be evaded and redirected, after which they are thrown around and slammed into ground. Paul, as if blinded by those dark emotions, focuses only on attacking me, and trying to make his sword reach me.

Idiot. He needs to learn the hard way.

I slam the side of my sword into his thigh, only for the loud crunch of the thickest bone in body breaking, to be overshadowed by his scream, which resounds throughout the arena. I kick his body hard, sending him to the healer.

"Heal him."

Kurt appears before me with his shield shining up brightly with mana. My sword impacts his shield, sending him several dozen meters away across the arena. In the corner of my peripheral vision I see the next attack and my hand moves automatically to catch Victoria's dagger, which was directed at my crotch, and send it back the next instant. The raven haired attacker tries to avoid the incoming dagger, but she is just a fraction of a second too slow, as the dagger burrows itself deep into her foot and she screams in pain.

Kurt stands up and attacks me again with his mace and shield, but every time my sword impacts his shield he closes his eyes tightly, as if afraid, trying to protect his eyes from the sparks that fly around during the impact.

"Open you eyes!" I scream as my sword continues to slam into his shield, moving his body several centimeters away each time.

"Stare death in the eyes! Do not dare to look away! If you die, die standing!"

His bloodshot eyes fix on my sword, and trail its trajectory, from the start to the moment it hits his shield. My sword continues to fall on the helpless Kurt, and during the next strike, when my sword impacted his shield, he tries to redirect the force into another direction, but focuses on the sword too much to see my left fist coming. The hook hits him hard and he's sent down, spitting blood and several broken teeth onto the ground.

"Good. At least one of you isn't a complete idiot."

"Stand up. Redirect my attack, but do not lose focus on me, not even for a second."

Kurt groans, but stands up and spits another glob of blood. I repeat my attack and this time he does not lose his focus as much. But that still doesn't save him from being sent to ground and spitting blood several more times.

"Acceptable. Terrible foundation, but you're a fast learner. Go heal."

Before I can say more Paul appears before me with his sword coming at my face, only for his strike to be redirected and hit the ground. He doesn't lose his fire and quickly attacks again, his mana aura flaring even more, still glowering at me in pure hatred.

Not good. This way he will not learn.

As he lunges at me with his sword in the same pattern, I slam my sword in exactly the same place as last time. Paul falls down screaming, as the sound of a broken femur bone resounds across the arena once again.

"I will repeat this again, and again, and again, until you learn. There are some who require pain to learn from their mistakes, and it looks like you are one of them."

Kicking him again I send his body to the healer once again, only for him to lie there, groaning in pain and waiting his turn, as Kurt is currently being healed. The anger from Pamela's face disappears, and is replaced with solemn guilty acceptance, as if finally understanding what I'm doing. She turns back to Kurt and continues her task with determination.

Victoria slowly walks to me, with a mix of fury and fear, slowly circling around and not attacking. "Do not let fear bind you. Pain is required. Fear is required. Know pain, know fear. Do not let it consume you. Control it."

She screams and attacks me with a flurry of rapid strikes, which I easily evade, and counter with a solid strike right into her face. She yelps and falls on ground. She looks up at me with the same eyes filled with hatred I've seen countless times before. Blood dripps out of her mouth and broken nose as she tries to stand up with her legs wobbling under her.

"I should say some fancy words about the spirit, soul, and mana. About how you should synchronize with it, but that's useless bullshit people with innate talent use to justify their skills and abilities. You are not one of them, and you'll have to accept it."

"There's only one other way for likes of you. Know your body. Know every bone and muscle. Feel them, know what they can do and what they can't. You are the master. Flesh is the slave, do not let it dictate your limits. You command, it obeys."

One by one I beat some common sense into them, something that should have been done a long time ago, but wasn't. In order for them to survive they need not just a huge amount of mana, but the knowledge to control and direct their power. With each iteration they become faster, stronger, craftier, trying to find my weaknesses and determine their strengths, but with each iteration I push them harder and harder.

Only when you push people into corner they start growing.

I continue the training regime I have done hundreds of times, again and again with the new Blood. Their young faces flash through my mind as I try to remember their names, code names, as their real ones were either lost or long forgotten. All of them died, their names taken by new recruits again, and again, and again. I should've done so much more, taught them better, maybe then they would have survived.

Or maybe the opposite.

Because I trained them, they became better, sturdier, they became able to follow me deeper into the abyss. And the only thing awaiting us all there was the darkness and corruption of this world. They didn't need to need see it. They could've stayed weak and died earlier, maybe then their lives would've been brighter, easier. Or they could have returned to the Blood Legion, becoming normal soldiers, living easier lives.

[Oh, are you trying to ask for their forgiveness? Or do you believe that helping the summoned will change anything for them?]

[After we were betrayed, our brothers gathered around you. They believed that you would lead them, but it was already too late. The enemy got to the Blood Sanctuary first, and they hunted down every single one of us using the blood compasses.]

[Do you want to hear something like "There is nothing you could have done"?]

[You won't.]

[We are alive only because we are a 'damaged product', and our blood compass could not be used by 'Mana Seers', and the last real 'Blood Seer' died bleeding and crying in our hands.]

[Nothing can return our brothers. They either disappeared, or are in the eternal abyss, gates which are closed to us.]

Why did you let me live Zeron?

...

I fucked up.

The moment I was asked to train, something in me flipped and I started training the summoned as I had the new Blood Brothers. Most of them were mule headed, they were either those who zealously believed in Zeron, and wanted to serve him or Blood Legionnaires who wanted to prove something, the remaining small number of others were a random bunch, just as I was once. And one of my main tasks was to either beat them into submission, or show them that the world is huge, and their skills are worth nothing.

And I did just what should be done with new initiates, but the problem is that people saw it. That small number of onlookers was enough to make things significantly worse. If before it was general fear and caution, now it changed to full blown terror, the same one which appeared on the faces of people from the other side of the planet, when they learned what I am. But this time there's no Blood Brotherhood history to blame.

Only me. Only my actions.

I continue to walk, trying to conserve as much energy as I can, but its hard as the blazing sun has boiled the very air itself, and every breath feels as if I'm breathing in fire and breathing out ice. The red sand under my feet isn't helping, as it simply caves in on each step I make, which causes me to lose more energy, and produce more heat. The whole thing somehow reminds me of the Dead Desert, but a darker, somehow more sinister, version of it. I'm not sure if that makes sense, but that's exactly what I feel right now. It's as if the desert itself has a will, and it's actively trying to kill you.

Anyway, I'm not the only one in this state, and at least there's no one near me, whose mere presence would increase the already burning temperature around me. Looking to left, I find a huge caravan of people walking in line, creating a small dust cloud behind them, looking several times more exhausted and emancipated than me.

I'm currently somewhere in the middle of the long procession, but several dozen meters to the right of it, acting as a side guard. This position is usually given to decently sized party, but the caravan leader believed that I can replace them alone. There is also another reason that I am here, alone. It's very simple, no one wanted to walk together or even alongside the 'Blood Demon'. People glance at me quite often, but instantly turn away, continuing to whisper between themselves. My 'group' is much further ahead, walking together, but again, there's no one other than myself to blame for that.

I pushed them away.

In the distance I see the silhouettes of the summoned walking together, at the head of caravan, talking between themselves, looking unaffected by the by blazing sun and unbearable heat coming from ground. More likely result of some cooling spell around them. But they don't look happy or energetic either. Some may say that I overdid it a bit with training, totally crushing them, showing how weak and soft they are. But if they want to survive in this world they need to learn, and learn fast.

And they need to survive.

[Do not pity them.]

Even if they are summoned with enormous strength, and given whatever a mortal soul could desire, it doesn't justify taking them away from their world and lives. Even less, when you take into account that according to the Library of Damned the last 'unbound' summoned walked this planet several millenniums ago. Ancients paid dearly for summoning more than a hundred heroes at the same time without a way to control them. The result was quite predictable. The books didn't say exactly what happened, but it's easy to guess that there are things in this world that they didn't like and tried to change.

But no one likes to change, especially because of the 'preferences' of outsiders, which you invited yourself.

You invite people for 'tea', and they start telling you how the things in your living room should be arranged.

Not nice, right?

Anyways, as it currently looks out the whole bunch, only Kurt wasn't crushed, and learned a lot. Even now he walks and experiments with his shield and mace, trying different stances, simulating battles in his head, trying to be faster, stronger, and with each move he improves, even if it is by a tiny bit.

Good.

But life never really gives you a chance to take a breath, and the appearance of a huge purple sand snake, which jumped out of sand and swallowed a random person whole, proved that true once again.

"Dragon!!" scream people in unison.

Looking at the creature again, I sigh deeply as I have many times before. I simply fail to understand how can people mix up these creatures at all.

A wyvern is a mix of a skinny oversized lizard and cave bat with two legs and two wings.

A drake is a big, fat, slow lizard with four legs.

A wyrm is a huge snake with spikes all around its body.

A dragon is a fucking four legged mountain, made of pure malice, violence, and destruction with two wings. A single flap of its enormous wings is enough to create tornadoes. The damn thing also spits endless amounts of fire, like a fucking erupting volcano.

ALL of them should be erased from the face of earth, but differentiating them isn't that hard. Just check if there are wings and count the number of legs, nothing more.

The summoned instantly retaliate, sending powerful spells towards it, ripping big chunks of flesh out of the wyrm, which only enrages the oversized gut worm. It spits a big greenish glob at the summoned, which they barely evade. Upon hitting the ground, the green glob starts sizzling and melting the ground, emitting purplish smoke from it. In place of running away, everyone freezes and looks at the glob. It takes several seconds for everyone to realize what the smoke around the sizzling glob is.

"Poison! Run away!"

That should have been apparent just from how it looks.

Taking out the sword I start walking to the oversized worm. The purple wyrm is too focused on the brightly shining auras of summoned to see my movements. I easily slip behind it, and leaping up, I plunge the sword straight through its skull. Unexpectedly, the sword doesn't fully go through the purple noodle's thick skull. The damn thing starts thrashing around, trying to throw me off it's back. It becomes so desperate that it spits a poison glob into the air, and jumps straight through it, covering itself and me in a thick layer of nasty purple liquid. All its thrashing only makes things worse, as the sword continues to dig deeper and deeper, until I hear a loud crack and my sword digs much deeper, its blade fully disappearing into the flesh of the wyrm. Nearly instantly its body stops moving, falling down on the ground lifelessly, like a huge tree cut down.

I stand up and start removing the nasty liquid from myself and my equipment. The liquid is thicker and harder to clean than I expected, but not by much. Looking up, I find the summoned looking at me in mix of fear and disbelief, still breathing heavily, as if they have been running for several days non-stop. It takes several more seconds for them to understand that the enemy is dead. People start scrambling around, screaming for help, as many guards and travelers have fallen down on the sand, and are twitching heavily. As if coming alive, Pamela leaps to me, shoving a small vial with liquid in my face and screams.

"Drink this! The poison should not have gone too deep."

"I'm immune to poison.”I look into her eyes and state shorty.

She looks at me in confusion and uncertainty, as her lips move, but don't produce any sound.

People continue running around trying to help each other, they scream for a healer and Pam, after looking at me one more time, runs to the injured and poisoned to help them. I look around in apathetic indifference. One single wyrm caused this. Something similar to this happens every time a creature a bit bigger than a cockroach pops up.

Is this the best we can do?

Are people destined to live like this for all eternity?

...

The night was generally quiet, people were tending to the injured, trying to heal as many as they can. There weren’t as many injured as I originally thought, only two dozen, and thankfully for them, the healer had a huge mana reserve, as all of the summoned usually have. In order to heal all of the critically injured, she had to buy few mana potions from a merchant traveling together with the caravan for a sum which I believe to be several times higher than the market price. The ironic thing is that she spent her own money for that, which won't be reimbursed by the caravan leader, as by contract, he isn't required to spend any additional money in case the guards get injured.

But that is not all.

It also seems like the potion merchant is a close friend of the caravan leader, and it's not hard to guess that he receives a percentage of all transactions done during the trip.

Oh you got injured? That is sad, but fret not, here is an exclusive potion merchant, which sells exclusive potions, for an exclusive price. Oh? You're not OK with price, that's very sad. But it's even sadder that there are no other potion merchants for hundreds of kilometers around.

What are we going to do?

Business, nothing more.

Same thing everywhere.

While people were resting, I was busy with a bit of a different task. The small heap of bloody fingers lying near my legs is proof of that. Throughout the tests and experiments I've found out several things.

First of all, I don't need to send the whole body into the burning state, as I usually do during fights. The solution is to simply increase the blood pressure in the arteries, while keeping the pressure in the veins stable. There is also breathing rhythm thing, but it's not as important.

Second, there's a much bigger increase in healing speed if the blood travels through specific areas of the body beforehand. The inner core of the bones. I still don't understand what the bones contain inside of them or how exactly they increase the regeneration speed, but that doesn't matter right now.

Third, the internal mana shouldn't be directed on increasing the blood pressure and temperature of body, but rather directed to ‘feed’ flesh from my liver into my blood. I'm not sure what exactly that does, but it simply works.

So many questions, and no answers whatsoever. In order to truly improve I'll need answers, and if no one can provide then I'll have to the same thing I've always done, learn myself.

A single book, just a single damn book, that's all I ask.

Should I ask the summoned about 'anatomy'?

No, they're just kids. There's no way they could know how the body works.

Anyways, I can heal a single finger within a dozen seconds if I focus on it, and if I don't, it takes a bit less than a minute.

Hooray I can heal fingers.

Kingdoms weren't built in a day.

[But kingdoms had time. We don’t]

Hearing very soft footsteps, I shove the sand over the small hill of fingers, hiding them as much as I can. A person walks out from the side of the rock that I'm hiding behind, and stops. I slowly turn my head and look at the new arrival's sky blue eyes, but she doesn't meet mine. Her ears are pressed against her skull while her long black tail hangs down lifelessly.

"The caravan will resume the travel within an hour." she states with barely audible voice

"I will be ready. Thanks."

She opens her mouth to say something, but instantly closes it with a click. She stands there for several long seconds, waiting for something, but then suddenly turns around and starts walking away.

[We could-]

Enough.

As soon as I can't hearing her footsteps, I resume the experiments, but this time I cut two of the fingers on my left hand, and count the time it takes to fully heal them. To my astonishment, the healing time doesn't double as I expected, but only by about thirty percent. I repeat the test several more times, to ensure that the result is valid, and it simply wasn't a product of ‘chance’.

Wait.

What chance?

There can be no chance in healing...

Chance? Huh, what can actually create a 'chance' in healing?

When did the speed of healing usually drop?

As if hit by inspiration, I cut a single toe on my right foot and a single finger on my left hand, and test the time it takes to heal wounds on opposite sides of my body. As if possessed, I start alternating between the number of toes and fingers, trying to see the limit, the bottleneck. I get so into it that I nearly forget about the caravan. Standing up, I quickly shove more sand over a much bigger heap, and I start walking in the direction of caravan, all the while healing the toes and fingers in an unfocused state.

Quite quickly I stand at the same position as I did during the travel, and I start thinking about the results. How to either circumvent them, or understand what exactly the limits are or what the cause is.

This isn't enough.

Maybe for someone healing a finger within dozen seconds would be some kind of an achievement, but not for me. Everyone else has something else to balance their strength, external mana, spells, comrades. I have none of that, and there's only one path for me.

Those that want me dead, and which I want dead myself, are not humans. It's even hard to call them mortals. They're gods on this planet, titans of destruction and carnage, this world bending according to what they desire with but a thought.

And I'm but a bug, nothing more.

Bugs survive, but they do not win.

...

"Paul...what...is that?" Pamella whispers, barely audible.

"I-I don't know..."

Standing on big cliff, all of our gazes are fixed on what we see beyond, at least a dozen kilometers away in the distance. A huge sand storm is circling around a huge black levitating pyramid turned upside down, which should be at least half a kilometer in height. It's hard to tell how big it actually is because of the strong storm of black and red sand, which looks so thick that it resembles liquid. The pyramid is so close to ground that one would believe that it's touching the ground, but if you look closer, you'll find out that it's not. But that's not all, there are at least a dozen smaller pyramids slowly circling around the central one, as if they are attached to it with a string.

"That, is Zanta-bhu, Land of the Dead." angrily states the fat bellied leader of caravan.

"Esteemed adventurers, I do not know how we ended up here, but I would strongly advice you not to look at the structure for too long. That black sand and floating stones have always been there, and no one know for how long exactly."

The moment he finished the last sentence, he starts quickly walking towards the group of guards and guides, shouting commands, berating and insulting the guides in every possible way. The guards look visibly scared, not just because of the furious leader, who promised death and more for bringing the caravan here. The eyes of the many guards are fixed in horror on the black structure in distance. A few short moments later, the caravan leader starts to command the people to gather, saying that we're not staying here for the night, and are leaving immediately.

While I see all of this happening in background with my peripheral vision, my eyes themselves are fixed on what floats far away. I've seen the structure before, a long time ago, and believed to never see it again.

So this is what you wanted from me Zeron.

I fully agree.

The Empire?

Saint Protus Ghalor?

People?

They don't matter.

This.

I thank you Zeron from the bottom of my soul for this opportunity.

My legs quickly carry me to the potion merchant, and the moment he sees me, he stops, terrified. I ask for every single mana potion he has, but the voice comes out harsh and commanding, and he shovels quickly around his staff and only brings out ten flasks. He starts begging for mercy, claiming that mana potions are rare, that they're hard to make and find. Not waiting even a second, I throw several gold coins at the merchant, worth several times more than even what he would ask for the potions in total.

It takes less than five minutes to gather all my stuff and buy everything I would need, including some food and another sword, for dual wielding. I had to make several moves with each sword that I looked at, as the balance was hard to find when one of weapons is far heavier than the other one. Walking back, I return to the cliff and check everything for one last time. Even if I had years ahead of me, I could never prepare decently for what is awaiting me. Even worse, I have to do it all alone, but nothing will change even if I spend several more months planning. Suddenly, Lekana appears before me and clutches my shirt, with her big blue eyes looking at me in confusion.

"What are you doing?"

Looking at her and the people around, I find a few of them looking at me strangely while preparing their things for departure, but most of the people are simply gazing at the thing a dozen kilometers away, which somehow brings bone chilling fear, even from such a distance. Looking back at Lekana I decide to make it as short as possible, there's no need to uselessly stretch it out.

"This is where we part. Live a long and happy life. May your gods be with you."

Lekana stands stunned, a statue, but I don't wait and already start walking to the edge of the cliff. Taking out the mana potions, I gulp one down and start circulating mana with a very specific technique. After which I increase the blood pressure to a bit higher rate, and fix it there. I start breathing deeper to gather as much fresh air as I can. From my peripheral vision I see the caravan leader sweating and running to me.

"Sir, I just heard that you are leaving. Sir you must not. That is Zanta-bhu, no one should go there. People-"

Not waiting for him, I gulp down a second mana potion, and continue the circulation.

"SIR ALAN! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!? YOU JUST DRANK TWO MANA POTIONS IN ONE GO!! YOU WILL DIE BECAUSE OF THE OVERDOSE!" he screams.

As if by a call, summoned appear and try to understand, they start listening to the screaming of caravan leader. Their eyes start jumping between me and the still screaming caravan leader. The young summoned, Kevin if I remember correctly, starts jumping up and down chanting something in the language of summoned.

"ITS A QUEST! ITS A QUEST! ITS A QUEST!"

The older brother, Paul, shouts at his younger brother to shut up, and quickly walks to me.

"Sir Alan, what are you doing? Is something wrong? Can we help you with something? If yes, please tell us, we owe you our lives."

Thinking for several seconds, hundreds of things come to my mind, different variations and versions of nearly the exact same thing, but in the end I can't find a reason not to be frank with them. This will more likely be last time I see them.

"You are not the only summoned."

All of the summoned instantly become silent and look at me in horror, as if their deepest secret has been found out.

"How-" Paul starts, but I interrupt him before he can say anything more.

"There are many, many more like you. They're stronger, they're faster, and not all of them are friendly."

They need to know.

"Those that wish to use you as pawns have summoned you to this world, and their goals may not be the same as yours."

"Get stronger. Start asking questions. And believe no one."

I gulp the third potion as I continue circulating the chaotic overflowing mana inside of me.

"Sir Paul, Please stop sir Alan!! He has mana poisoned himself with the potion, and he cannot think straight. He shouldn't go to Zanta-bhu, you don't understand what awaits you-"

I look deep into the eyes of the caravan leader as he freezes in fear. I didn't notice, but I already started talking.

"People turn inside out. Skeletons crawl out of bodies and attack every single living being they can find. People go insane within minutes, whispering in the language of demons. Dead turn into Liches. Every Mage and Enforcer turns into 'possessed' and creatures of made of bones and darkness itself drag away those that are left alive."

Looking straight into the eyes of fat caravan leader I see absolute terror, he starts trembling, and makes several steps back.

His lips quiver and barely audible "How" escapes.

"You have seen them, right? The true face of darkness"

"Don't follow me, you will all die." I state shortly.

Turning to the summoned I say the only thing left.

"Vei Lai."

Glancing one last time at Lekana, I start running in the direction of epicenter of the structure. With every step I make, I feel as if the very air starts becoming thicker, while the body feels heavier and heavier, as if someone is stacking more and more stones on my shoulders. The sand storm continues to blow with its speed only increasing the closer I get, and the moment the grains of sand hit my face they dig into it, like tiny hooks.

It takes a bit less than an hour, but I finally get to the epicenter of it all, and I find a huge pyramidic deformation with a structure made of black stone in the center of it, directly under the tip of floating upside down pyramid. Walking down the slope to the black structure I look up at the pyramid. It feels as if the whole monstrosity will fall down any moment, but it won't, at least not now. I take out another potion and drink it in one go. Except for the sound of the ravaging storm wind, the whole area is submerged in absolute silence.

Walking closer to the structure, I find a wide staircase leading down into the darkness. Taking out both swords, I grip their pommels tighter and start walking down the staircase. With each step the whole area becomes darker and darker, until there comes a point when the darkness consumes everything and the world submerges into absolute silence. I continue my descend and after several more minutes I start hearing a quiet whisper somewhere behind me.

I stop and drink another mana potion, increasing the speed of the mana circulation into my head, but keeping the heartbeat as stable as possible. Breathing the stale and heavy air in deeply, the whisper slowly starts disappearing, as if they haven't been there from the very beginning. My jaws creek, the teeth grind against each other and I scowl, as I come very close to the critical point.

Right after the voices come the hallucinations.

There's no one with me to wake me up. I could've met my end.

I resume my descent deeper and deeper into the darkness, and even though there is absolutely no light anymore, I still am able to see the stairs and wall. After another dozen minutes of walking, I see the stairs end and an absolute, endless darkness begins. As soon as I step off the last step I find myself in a room so enormous that even its approximate size couldn't be estimated.

Even though there isn't a single speck of light in here, there is sound. The sound of an uncountable number of objects grinding against each other, like ants deep inside of the colony. Soon, my eyes adjust to the darkness and I find myself standing on a small cliff, and making several steps forward, I look down into the deep, nearly endless pit. A few moment later my eyes adjust even more, and I find the whole floor of the enormous pit is moving, as if the waves of an ocean, but looking closer I find the texture of waves different, more granular, as if made out of solid objects rather than liquid. The sea of objects could be by some mistaken for a sea of bugs, which are crawling over each other like in a pit of snakes, but I know that they are neither snakes nor bugs.

As if by a queue, all the tiny creatures turn in my direction.

Millions upon millions of skeletons, all of them rattling their bones in absolute hatred at the intruder. Different sizes and forms, from what could be described as normal, two meter tall human skeleton, to ones several times that size, with three pairs of arms and horns. But the rattling and movement suddenly stops, and the room returns into absolute silence for several long seconds.

One by one, lights start shining deep in the pit, mostly green and blue with rare few red ones. The whole floor starts shining, lighting up the whole endless pit, as if lit on fire. Soon all the rattling changes and is replaced with high pitched screeching.

Liches.

Not the feral ones, no, a different kind, the ancient ones, the true Liches.

They all start screeching louder as thick black fluid drips out of their eye sockets, mouth, and chest. The next instant, all of the screeching stops and millions of Liches jump into action, moving nothing like the feral ones, no, these ones move like puppets, not limited by the structure of their bodies, their limbs move in all direction. Millions of Liches start crawling up the wall in one single direction, mine.

They all serve one being.

I gulp down all five flasks left in one go, and send the chaotic mana circulating to levels I have never known before. I should've controlled my body, controlled the blood pressure and mana circulation, but all of it is lost and forgotten as a deep inhuman roar escapes me and explodes throughout the pit.

The last time I was in place like this, I lost more than half of my Brothers, and received that accursed scar.

All of the colors invert as I leap at the enemies.

Now it's my turn.

Lucy, I'm home.