"You survived ambush," the Dwarf-Thing continued, its mockery of a smile never fading. "Glad. Worried that-"

"YOU!" Several Dwarves were forced to restrain Vevrandi as she attempted to leap forward. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY SISTER? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO SILVIEL?!"

Rob shivered as the Dwarf-Thing tilted its head to the side in a mechanical motion. "Silviel." It froze completely still, like a computer program stuck on a loading icon, before abruptly returning to its version of normal. "Ah. Silviel. Good host. Body was...tight fit, but, just enough. Her memories...taught words."

Its smile stretched to the breaking point. "She says, 'I love you', and, 'kill me'."

Vevrandi let out a choking sob of rage and despair. The Stonewarden placed a hand on her shoulder, his eyes fixated on the abomination leering at them from across the passageway. "I am Stonewarden Grant, Leader of-"

"No. No more Dwarves." Silviel turned her head to gaze directly at Rob. "Only Heartkiller speaks."

Rob sucked in air through his teeth. He wanted nothing more than to shove that...thing into a crate of Firebombs and be done with it. While Silviel wasn't strong enough to be an actual Blight, her body was absolutely brimming with Corruption from head to toe, far outstripping any infected monster or Blightspawn he'd encountered. Hoping for new intel, he cast Identify.

Name: Silviel

Level: 39

Race: Hybrid

Status Effects: Blighted

Description: Please. Tell Vevrandi that I'm sorry.

Hardly reassuring.

Unfortunately, Rob knew that this wasn't an opportunity he could pass up. The closest they'd ever come to legitimate communication with a Blight-creature was when Malika used her Mana Language to distract the Corrupted Leviathan. Even then, they'd only learned that the Blights enjoyed killing, which was already pretty damn obvious to anyone who'd spent longer than fifteen seconds among them. Information was the key to victory in any war, and if Elatra wanted any real hope of surviving, then Rob needed to squeeze some new intel out of Silviel before it changed its mind about having a chat.

"So I guess that I'm supposed to be the Heartkiller?" he began, in as casual of a tone as he could muster. "Not quite sure I understand the nickname."

"It is fitting." Silviel's smile dropped – thank fucking Christ – as she explained. "Heart. Core. Vital for...continuation. You kill hearts. Our hearts. Permanently. Only one who can. Distressing."

Rob's mind raced as he worked to interpret her meaning. 'Only one who can' probably meant that it was something to do with Purge Corruption. 'Core' implied a centralized component, so it probably wasn't referring to the masses of people infected with Corruption. The Corrupted Loci of Power made more sense in that regard. 'Vital for continuation'...'permanently'...is curing the Loci having a bigger effect on the Blight than we thought it would? Like, I'm not complaining, but it's weird for something to go *better* than expected.

As he brainstormed, Silviel kept speaking. "How?" Her eyes widened. "Creatures of flesh...unable to touch Corruption. What makes you unique?"

Mindful of the Dwarves' intrigued stares on him, Rob formulated a response. "Good question – I'd like to know too. All I can tell you is that when I got infected by a bunch of Corruption months ago, I learned a Skill to get rid of it. Same way that Poison Resistance increases the more you get poisoned. That's just...how Skills operate. If anything, it's weirder that other people aren't learning it."

Aside from the Dwarves, he also didn't want Silviel to know exactly how he'd attained Purge Corruption. If she discovered that he absorbed the remnants of a broken Class Crystal, then strengthened his control of Blue energy by Attuning to Loci of Power, she might figure out a method to counteract him.

"Aberration," Silviel stated, tilting her head in the opposite direction. "Interesting...novelty. Shame to kill."

"That so? Then I'll make you a deal," Rob replied, saying the first thing that came to mind. "You stop doing literally everything you're doing, and I'll stop hunting you down and reversing your handiwork. That way we don't waste each other's time."

"Impossible." Silviel paused. "Also. Host asking...Vevrandi...to run. Repeatedly."

Rob momentarily closed his eyes as Vevrandi's cries washed over him. I'm sorry, he thought, but I have to ask. "What did you do to her? I've seen people infected with enough Corruption to reduce their HP to 0, and all it did was kill them."

"I am not Corruption."

"Bullshit. I can Sense it all over you, inside and out."

"Not Corruption itself. Source of Corruption. Parent, not child. Splinter from collective." Silviel raised her hand, methodically bending each finger in turn. "Difficult balance to...achieve. Tried many hosts. Fiends, first. Incompatible. Beings of mana. Warped too easily. Tried Dwarves next. Unlike Fiends. Fusion of...flesh...and mana. Sturdier. Still difficult. Most hosts burst. This didn't."

Rob stiffened, resisting the urge to look around and examine peoples' reactions. He hoped that the Dwarves were having trouble comprehending what Silviel was saying, as she'd just offhandedly revealed to everyone that the Fiends' bodies consisted only of mana. The same as monsters. "What-"

"My turn. To ask." Silviel's blackened eyes lit up with curiosity. "Heartkiller. Why struggle?"

Rob blinked. "You mean in a philosophical sense, or is that a legitimate inquiry? Because either way, I can assure you that if you quit wrecking the world for no reason, I'd be struggling a lot less."

Silviel fell silent. She stared at him for what felt like an eternity, something resembling pity crossing her expression. "It is true. You are all...corpses."

The Elven Seneschal hissed. "Is that a threat, you repugnant creature?"

"Classification." Silviel pointed at the allied coalition. "Corpses. Deceased." Her fingers spasmed. "Language terms...helpful. Learned so many. Do you know, Heartkiller? What words were...most shocking?"

She frowned, her mouth a direct inversion of her previous smile. "Delayed gratification. Wanting to do, and yet, not."

Silviel's arms snapped open, as if giving a prayer sermon. "This world is beautiful. Sun. Moisture. Gravity. Wind. Blood. Screams. So many sensations. So much to experience. An endless feast. Revelries for all time. You are blessed beyond your knowing. And you waste it."

Rob and the allied coalition winced as daggers of pain stabbed their ears. Uncaring of their discomfort, Silviel continued, her cadence building to an impassioned rant.

"Delayed gratification. The ultimate insanity. What is life...without...pleasure? Right now, you are corpses. Look at you. Your misery. None of you want...to be here. In this hole. And yet, you are. Suffering for...what? Others? Dreams? Future?"

She shivered with discomfort. "No. Unnatural. Lives wasted. Every second you...delay...you are dead. Less than nothing. The absence of joy."

The veins in her face pulsed faster. "We do not make that mistake. We revel. Savor the world...and...all its treats. Consume. Devour. Use it for the...kindling it is."

She peered upwards. "Then the great emptiness calls. We become...corpses, again. Until new kindling is found."

The passageway was deathly quiet. No one knew what to say. Silviel lowered her arms, turning her gaze to Rob once more. "Lucky, this time. New world. Already close."

Rob's blood ran cold. "The hell do you mean by that?"

"Earth." The word rang out like a gunshot. "Don't be...discouraged. We've kept Jason company."

Blue motes flashed around Rob's hand as he summoned a longsword. Before anyone could stop him, he cast Rampage, bursting forth, his sword aimed to cut out Silviel's lying fucking tongue.

The abomination's laughter echoed across the passage as its body began to swell like a balloon. Flesh ripped and muscles tore, a black fog seeping out from underneath its skin. Rob skid to a halt, not needing Danger Sense to know what was about to happen next. He cast another Rampage – backwards, this time – as Silviel erupted into a darkened cloud of Corruption that was so thick it was visible to the naked eye.

On instinct, Rob activated Purge Corruption and projected a layer of energy around himself. The cloud of Corruption slammed into him, surging ahead in a torrent, sizzling as it dissolved against his makeshift aura. Rob flinched, feeling his energy reserves take a hit as the cloud enveloped him, clamoring to breach his defenses.

Rob scarcely had time to wonder if he should retreat further or double down on his Purging aura when the cloud suddenly blew past him. With mounting horror, he spun around to find it racing towards the allied coalition like a swarm of black locusts. The coalition executed an offensive withdrawal, firing Skills as they did their best to move back in the cramped passageway. Spells and arrows rained down on the cloud, and they had some effect, but it was like trying to cut water with a sword.

Casting a third Rampage to catch up, Rob inserted himself into the Corruption and forcibly discharged a chunk of Purging energy outside his body. A third of the cloud was flash-fried in an instant, but the rest was too spread out. He couldn't Purge all of it before it reached the coalition. Riardin's Rangers, Elder Alessia, the Seneschal, and the Stonewarden had utilized their higher Dexterity to escape, but most of the Dwarves were moments away from being overtaken.

At their front stood Vul'to, who for some fucking reason wasn't making any attempt to escape with his Party. The Fiend extended his arms, face a mask of determination. Rob watched in amazement as a silver, translucent bubble spread outward from Vul'to's body, expanding to cover the Dwarven contingent. Corruption crashed into the bubble and was turned aside like a dam diverting water. It didn't sizzle like when touched by Purge Corruption, but try as it might, the Corruption couldn't get through, unable to reach the Dwarves safe inside.

The few Dwarves just outside the bubble's edge weren't so lucky. Three elite soldiers disappeared under the billowing cloud, their screams muffled by a harsh scraping noise that immediately filled the passageway. Rob caught glimpses of bones dropping to the floor, stripped clean and white. When the Corruption realized that it wouldn't be able to bypass Vul'to's barrier, it buzzed, as if agitated, the cloud condensing into a more solid form. Tendrils of dark began to sink into the rocky floor, grabbing the Dwarven remains and pulling them below. As quickly as it came, the formless Corruption vanished underground.

Then nothing. The allied coalition was left speechless, staring at the holes in the ground with blank expressions. Vul'to's protective bubbled winked out as he fell to his knees, sweat dripping down his brow.

And from deep beneath the surface, Sense Corruption felt something begin to stir.

"IT'S COMING BACK!" Rob jabbed his finger at a spot located next to a Dwarf. The soldier reacted a hairsbreadth too slowly, his fate sealed by momentary hesitation. Blackened tendrils burst upwards from the ground, grabbing hold of each of the Dwarf's limbs, a shapeless mass rising after. Its form split open to reveal a mouth lined with jagged teeth made of clean-white bones. The Dwarven soldier cried out as the Corruption's maw sank into his chest, pulling him underground before anyone could help. His screams grew quieter as the floor closed shut and pressed tight.

Crunch.

Silence.

"SHIT! SHIT! THERE!" Rob pointed to a second spot, dashing to meet the formless Corruption before it surfaced. He let out a string of expletives as the Corruption turned on a dime, swerving away from Rob and towards an isolated Dwarf. Another scream, another crunch. The allied coalition tried to damage the Corruption as it emerged, but it was too quick to burrow down after ambushing a target, and without Sense Corruption they couldn't anticipate where it would show. Danger Sense could've theoretically worked, but Keira was at a distance, guarding Riardin's Rangers, while the Seneschal seemed hesitant to risk himself for the sake of Dwarven grunts.

Snarling loudly, Rob jumped into the air and spam-cast Rampage, burning through his MP as he soared over the Dwarves' heads. He landed next to Riardin's Rangers, and without messing a beat, grabbed Malika's arms and took aim. "When I say fire, fire," he insisted. "Understand?" The young Archmage nodded her head, her shoulders going taut as she awaited his order.

She didn't have to wait long. The formless Corruption twitched, selecting a new target, and began to ascend. Rob positioned Malika's arms, carefully, precisely, waiting for just the right moment-

"Fire."

An incandescent beam of pure mana lanced out from Malika's hands. It speared through rock and smashed into the Corruption with the force of an unending thunderbolt. Wordless shrieking pierced Rob's ears as the abomination writhed in agony, blackened 'flesh' peeling away. It tried to flee, but Rob tracked its movements, adjusting Malika's aim to follow the Corruption wherever it went.

"Empower Spell," the young Archmage whispered. "Mana Surge. Mana Burst. Mana Sacrifice. Refresh. Empower Spell again." Her attack doubled in width and intensity. The passageway shook like there was an earthquake. Malika's skin went ashen-white, as if she hadn't slept in days, and her eyes started to unfocus.

Rob was about to tell her to stop when the Corruption's shrieking abruptly cut out. The last layer of its defenses crumbled as it was engulfed in destructive mana. Bit by bit, its shape disintegrated, coming undone.

In the moments before it perished, a final, joyful laugh invaded everyone's minds.

NO. REGRETS.

And then it was gone.

Malika collapsed into Rob's arms, half-conscious, a satisfied smirk on her face.

Partial EXP Gained From Sharing Hand!

Reached Level 55!

5 Stat Points Gained!

BERSERKER Level Increased! 51 -> 52

Rob shivered, nearly dropping Malika as Leveling High overtook him. He viciously beat the sensation away, making sure to gently place Malika on the ground as he checked her Status Screen. Her MP was bottomed out, and despite not having taken any actual damage, her HP had dropped precipitously low due to her usage of Mana Sacrifice. Shared Regeneration would restore her HP soon enough, but MP Potions would be necessary to prevent Mana Exhaustion from setting in. Orn'tol was already on it, tipping Potions down her throat with the care of a worried older brother.

"Was that the Blight?" A Dwarven soldier asked, her voice wavering with desperate optimism.

Rob shook his head. "Unfortunately, no. That was an offshoot. The real deal is still further inside."

Vevrandi unleashed a howl of unmitigated emotion, slamming her axe into the ground. "I'll kill it." Slam. "I'll KILL it." Slam. "I'll make the fucking thing beg for mercy, and then I'll KILL IT."

As she reared back to slam her axe again, the Stonewarden caught it in his hand, the sharpened edge leaving a minor scratch on his palm. "Your rage is warranted," he stated, in a tightly-controlled tone. "Yet take care not to dull your weapon or your mind. Both will be integral to achieving the vengeance that you seek." His cheek twitched. "That we seek."

Some of the Dwarves nodded in assent. The rest just stood there, gradually processing what they'd witnessed. There was no overt grieving for their deceased comrades – only the stupefaction of having seen five elite soldiers devoured in an instant, without so much as a lock of hair left behind to bury.

Vevrandi looked away, tears streaming down her face. After a few seconds, she picked herself up, inhaling and exhaling a deep breath. "My apologies," she replied. "I...lost my composure. Silviel would be laughing at me if she were here right now."

"No. She would be honored by your resilience." Stonewarden Grant swept his gaze across the members of the allied coalition, looking at each of them in turn. "To my understanding, that was the first instance of a Blight – offshoot or otherwise – communicating via spoken words. While it may not have been worth the cost, we must make use of the knowledge this opportunity has imparted upon us. Think back to what it said."

'We've kept Jason company.'

Rob bit his tongue, hard, to keep himself from an outburst that he wouldn't be able to explain. A tempest of panic whirled in his mind as he attempted to make sense of what the Blight had said. How did anyone on Elatra – Riardin's Rangers excluded – know Jason's name? It was plausible that word had spread through the grapevine about the existence of Earth, as that wasn't a secret among the Deserters, but he'd only ever told his friends about Jason.

Excuses popped up one after another. Maybe the Blight was connected to the aberrant Dungeon infested with Dreamthieves, and it'd read Rob's memories while he was trapped in them. Maybe the Blight was truly omniscient and could hear him speaking aloud no matter where he was. Maybe it merely took a guess, and Jason was actually just a really popular name in Elatra...despite Rob never having met anyone with it...

...Or maybe the Blight had done exactly what it said it would: travel to the closest nearby world and throw a wild party while Rob was out.

I need to get back to Earth. The notion, which had been a distant goal up until that point, suddenly felt immensely urgent. The Fiends are my best bet if they can jury-rig their teleportation magic into dimensional magic. Will ask them – order them, if necessary. Don't care how much of my Roy the Savior clout I have to abuse. We need to figure this out *yesterday*.

He was tempted to cast Waymark to return to Fiendland immediately, but that would've been a catastrophically bad idea for numerous reasons, especially since he couldn't transport his full Party plus Elder Alessia in one go. As much as he wanted to focus on Earth, the Blight of Dhalerune Mines had to die first. Letting it roam free would condemn hundreds of thousands to a Corruptive death, plunging Dwarven territory into chaos.

"...I doubt we'll be negotiating a ceasefire anytime soon," Rob said, speaking up. "The Blight didn't seem interested in stopping. I'm not even sure it understands the concept of stopping."

"That much was expected," the Elven Seneschal added. "During the defense of Reviton City, we tried every means possible to communicate with the Blight-infected monsters it was using as foot soldiers. Perhaps it is unable to comprehend our language in most cases, but the sight of soldiers waving flags or laying down their weapons should have been sufficient indication that peace was an option."

"You laid down your weapons in front of Blight-infected monsters?" Elder Alessia asked, her eyebrows raised.

The Seneschal sent her a withering look. "We didn't allow our soldiers to die, if that's what you're implying. And I don't regret the attempt. Times were desperate; our calls for aid had been rebuffed, and our morale was stretched to its limit. While our efforts failed, they proved that the Blight was far more inclined towards continuing the slaughter than anything resembling mutual conversation. Rather than Common or Elvish, violence and destruction are its languages."

He gestured to Rob. "That's why they demanded to speak with him, and him alone. The Blight is only intrigued by the Human because he's capable of harming them. Otherwise, he would simply be another bag of meat and blood for the abominations to feast on. You heard what it said – those who do not engage in unbridled hedonism are little more than corpses. What hope could we possibly have of reaching an understanding with entities such as that?"

The allied coalition mulled over the Seneschal's words in silent agreement. Eventually, the Stonewarden glanced at Vul'to. "Young Fiend. You have my thanks for protecting so many Dwarven lives. Many more would have died without your assistance." He leaned closer. "What was that Skill you utilized? Has the Human taught you a variant of Purge Corruption?"

Vul'to shook his head. "My Awakened Class is called Soul Guardian. In addition to the usual Vanguard skillset, it grants me the ability to protect souls. Hence the name. While I can't kill Corruption outright, I can expend MP to turn it aside."

Group Message Received From Party Member: Vul'to

Vul'to: Admittedly, I did not possess Soul Shield until I witnessed the cloud of Corruption racing towards us.

Vul'to: Seeing it triggered a Prerequisite and let me gain the Skill.

Faelynn: Is this related to how your Class's name changed a second time?

Vul'to: Yes. I still have all my normal Guardian Skills from before I...

Vul'to: From before.

Vul'to: The Soul Guardian Skills appear to be a newfound bonus.

Vul'to: Please let the Dwarves believe that it's solely because of a Class Awakening.

"How fundamentally bizarre," one of the Dwarven soldiers muttered. "Why would a Fiend learn Skills to protect souls? It's not like gorebeasts learn how to give shelter to their prey."

"That's an interesting way of saying 'thank you'," Rob interjected, in a nonchalant tone. The soldier averted his eyes, appearing chastened, as did several other Dwarves who'd presumably been thinking the same thing.

"On the subject of safeguarding our souls," the Stonewarden began, addressing Rob. "How much of your Purge Corruption energy remains?"

Rob grimaced. "About three-fourths. It drains a lot faster when I have to push it into the air."

"Why the despondent look? Three-fourths seems like a healthy amount."

"It is until I need to do more than remove small bits of Corruption from people," he explained. "A Blight has so much HP that attacking it with Purge Corruption is like dumping water into a giant pile of dry sand. The water will overflow eventually, but only when the sand is fully saturated. And keep in mind that restoring a Corrupted Locus of Power drains exactly three-fourths of my energy stores. We won't be able to get that done today if I have to use Purge Corruption again on anything else."

He shrugged. "I'd normally recommend we wait for my energy to recover, but that'll take six hours, so we might as well get moving in the meantime."

The Stonewarden nodded. "We'll revisit the matter when we draw closer to the Corrupted Locus." He paused. "Aside from that, did you understand what the Blight meant by its parting comments? Regarding new worlds, and an 'Earth', and a 'Jason'? It seemed to assume that you knew what it was referring to."

Rob suppressed another grimace as his skin began to crawl. Hearing Elatrans – besides his Party members – say Jason's name felt wrong, for some reason. "Honestly? No idea what it was talking about."

The Stonewarden looked him directly in the eyes. "That is a lie, Human."

Diplomacy is going to chew me out so badly when they find out about this. Rob hesitated, considering just spilling the beans about the whole Earth expat thing. The Dwarves were going to find out sooner or later. Before he could say anything, though, Elder Alessia spoke up.

"Is this truly the time and place to cast suspicion on our allies?" Alessia faced down the Stonewarden, uncaring of the difference in their Levels and social status. "Especially when you haven't extended the same degree of trust to others that you expect for yourself."

She tapped her finger once on the back of her thigh, a motion that only Riardin's Rangers would be able to see. 'Follow my lead', it meant. Rob was momentarily confused, wondering why Alessia would go so far to antagonize the Stonewarden, before realizing that he should chime in regardless of her motives.

Once this segment of the conversation ended, and the Dwarves continued discussing Silviel's revelations, there'd be only one topic remaining that they hadn't touched upon yet.

"You wouldn't even tell us what was inside a tunnel with a spooky sign in front," Rob added, crossing his arms. "We've all got our secrets. That's fine. Everyone does. Just don't expect us to start handing them out when you're clearly keeping just as many."

Irritation flashed across most of the Dwarves' faces. The Stonewarden was quiet, his expression once again defaulting to impassive neutrality. Most importantly, all of them seemed to have forgotten about the Blight mentioning that Fiends were creatures consisting of pure mana. If the Dwarves ever put two and two together, realizing that Fiends were descended from monsters, any chance of the two races establishing peaceful relations would be blown straight to hell. Personally, Rob didn't care who or what the Fiends' ancestors were, but it was a subject so taboo that even the few Fiends who knew the truth were tormented by it.

"Well then," the Elven Seneschal said, with an air of amusement. "I can scarcely believe that I'm the one who has to say this, but...calm yourselves. We have a mission to complete. Air your grievances once the fighting is done."

He was right, of course. As everyone settled down, preparing to head out, Rob tried and failed to shove the Blight's words out of his mind. He envisioned Earth overrun by Blightspawn, humans screaming as clouds of Corruption dissolved them into paste. Hospitals well over capacity, unable to deal with a mysterious sickness that no one knew how to cure. Shambling abominations walking the streets, laughing delightedly as they reveled in the carnage.

It...would be fine. Earth wasn't like Elatra. It had technology and weapons on a scale that would make the Dragon Queen herself blush. If the Blight attempted the same thing on Earth as it was here, it would get mowed down by armed forces in the first week. Earth would be fine. His parents and Jason would be fine.

So why couldn't he get rid of that sinking feeling in his chest?