Axehand and Horace stepped over a pile of newly-created corpses and went on their way.

“I’m worried,” said Horace. “If everyone is facing undead at these quantities, they might struggle a bit.”

Axehand grunted in agreement. He’d had the same thought before—would Master make it? However, if Jerry wanted to be Axehand’s Master, he had to be able of at least this much.

The two of them had been traveling for a while now, crossing corridor after corridor as they ventured deeper into the maze. Undead came at them in hordes, but that was no problem; the duo quickly took care of everything.

A new bellow shook the corridor, much louder than ever before.

“Hmm,” mused Horace. “We must be getting close.”

Axehand grunted in excitement.

Suddenly, as if agitated by the roar, a black tentacle shot out of a large crack in the wall. It instantly wrapped around Axehand’s arm, and a second tentacle quickly flew out as well, wrapping around his torso. Axehand looked on with curiosity.

“Oh, a tentacle monster.” Horace nodded, crossing his arms. “Can you let it eat you, please?”

The tentacles went taut, struggling to pull Axehand into the wall. He just stood there, watching with disinterest. A grunt later, he pulled back.

The tentacle monster was ripped off the crack and into the corridor, where the force of Axehand’s pull smashed it into the opposite wall and killed it on the spot. It wasn’t anything to write home about; a slug-like, pitch-black thing the size of a person, with four tentacles growing out of its underbelly and a slick hole for a mouth. Its back was covered in broken suckers, blood, and stone, as Axehand had just ripped it off the wall.

“These fuckers look disgusting,” said Horace, frowning. “At least they’re weak.”

Axehand grunted in agreement. They stepped past the slug, careful not to touch it, and went on their way. They had a monster to hunt.

***

The bellows got louder and more frequent. The tunnels got empty. The sound of stomps echoed through the walls, and rough breaths came from behind the corner.

“Hoho,” said Horace with a predator’s smile. “We got it.”

Axehand grunted in excitement, grinding his axes against each other. Reaching for his waist, he grabbed the flask and took a big gulp of wine.

A nightmare rounded the corner.

It was a creature towering way over them, its horns almost scratching the ten-foot-tall ceiling. It had the head of a bull and the body of a hairy man, but the taut muscles that bulged through its skin spoke of tremendous strength. Its waist was thick, and yet there was little fat to be found, as most of its mass was made of muscle. Only a dirty loincloth covered its privates.

In its hands, the minotaur held a large battleaxe taller and heavier than most grown men, and steam escaped its nostrils as a pair of red eyes stared them down.

“That’s intimidating.” Horace nodded in approval. “Look, Axehand; it has an axe. Maybe you’re cousins.”

Axehand grunted as he stepped forth, his fighting spirit burning. The minotaur did have an axe; he would show it who the superior axeman was.

The jacked-up, nine-foot-tall behemoth let out a tremendous bellow as it charged. Its hooves stomped on the floor, its battleaxe screamed through the air. Axehand jumped to meet it, and axe met axe in a collision whose sheer impact shook the air.

Axehand’s momentum was halted, but so was the minotaur’s. The two seemed evenly matched.

“Heh.” Horace chuckled. “Can’t you even handle one lousy monstrosity?”

Axehand glared over his shoulder, then charged the minotaur again. The two exchanged a flurry of blows, and the minotaur’s eyes kept widening as it realized this tiny enemy could match it. With another bellow, it went berserk, hacking and slashing without care for its safety.

Axehand weaved through the blows, easily outmaneuvering the heavy weapon. The ground and walls were slashed repeatedly, large gashes appearing in the stone, but Axehand was safe as he dived into his opponent’s guard. The tip of his right axe met the flat of the greataxe’s blade, altering its trajectory as Axehand unleashed an uppercut on the beast, drawing a thick line through its belly.

Black blood flowed out but the minotaur was still standing, and it seemed even madder than before. It was incensed; as the Guardian of this maze, it was supposed to maul intruders, not the opposite! It roared in pain and fury, prepared to fight to its death.

Axehand grunted in satisfaction—he didn’t want this fun fight to be over quickly.

Suddenly, whistling sounds reached his ears as two arrows cut through the air, embedding themselves in both eyes of the minotaur. Axehand turned to glare at Horace; and the massive beast, with a final, soulless bellow, collapsed to the floor, shaking it by sheer weight.

“What?” said Horace. “You were clearly winning; I just accelerated things. We don’t have time to waste on small fries.”

Axehand let out another annoyed grunt as he swung an axe through the air, cleaning it of black blood. He pointed ahead.

“Yes, let’s go. We should be getting close.” Horace nodded, and the two left yet another corpse behind them as they searched for their companions. The maze’s all-powerful Guardian had been nonchalantly destroyed.

***

Jerry’s and Akolateronim’s souls clashed in a display of mental fireworks. Beside them, the hell hound followed Akolateronim’s commands and attacked Jerry, but Boboar with Foxy turned to face it. Two battles erupted at the same time, but Jerry could only see one.

The world faded away as only he and Akolateronim remained.

Jerry had fought like this before. He’d once challenged Maccain, a Sakalai of the Wizard Order, only to be obliterated like an ant. Akolateronim wasn’t nearly as strong, fortunately—Jerry could fight.

Two streams of soul energy left their bodies and crashed into each other like raging rivers. They flowed around and into each other, aiming at weak spots to prove their supremacy. It was like two armies fighting, while Jerry and Akolateronim were the generals.

Jerry’s soul was free and wild, slipping out of Akolateronim’s grasp to attack wherever it wanted. Akolateronim’s soul was orderly and disciplined, striking hard and accurately but in predictable patterns.

The two souls fought in mid-air for a few moments, invoking a series of colorful fireworks visible to the naked eye. They were evenly matched in raw power; Akolateronim’s efficiency was met with Jerry’s unpredictability, and the two were embroiled in a battle whose victor was unclear. In fact, Jerry felt that this kind of battle was like an art, holding unfathomable depths that he couldn’t wait to explore. Right now, he was like a fumbling infant, but a fumbling infant with a strong soul that got progressively better!

Jerry was enjoying himself. Fighting like this demanded the entirety of his concentration, making everything else fall out of scope. He was the battle, and boiling blood ran down his veins as a feeling similar to ecstasy took him over. His soul unleashed its full power, and the release was palpable.

I’m this strong!? Jerry wondered, watching how his soul coiled around Akolateronim’s like a dragon. He was acting at his very peak and kept surprising himself with his speed, reflexes, and mental resilience.

I’m a necromancer! he thought proudly.

However, soul battles weren’t merely throwing one’s soul into the fray until somebody won. A person’s soul was the core of their being, their most intimate shelter. As the two souls waged war, they unavoidably touched each other. Thoughts and feelings were transmitted, invading Jerry’s psyche in a violating way.

He felt arrogance, anger, and haughtiness. He felt a sense of suffocating, repulsive order. He felt fear and hatred at being forced to fight, and he felt how Akolateronim blamed Jerry for all this.

However, Jerry’s thoughts flowed into Akolateronim’s soul as well, and the Watcher recoiled as Jerry’s carefree attitude violated its understanding of the world.

You are absurd! it screamed into Jerry’s soul. Travesty, humiliation, abomination. DIE!

No, I don’t think I will, replied Jerry, pushing harder. His understanding of soul battle increased by the moment. So did Akolateronim’s, in fact, but Jerry was faster to learn. His soul gained the upper hand as the Watcher stumbled, and the scales of battle tilted. No! Akolateronim raved, but it was already failing, and defeat would come inevitably.

But Akolateronim had other means as well.

Suddenly, its soul opened up completely, forfeiting the battle, and Jerry was sucked in. To defeat Akolateronim, he just had to keep pushing…but would it be that easy? As he invaded his opponent’s soul, his world was devoured by illusions.

He saw himself atop a tall cliff, watching the dry rock beneath. Akolateronim flowed beside him. “What do you think?” it said, a mouth appearing below its eye. “Do you have the courage to advance? Maybe you should stop here.”

Jerry knew he had to jump if he wanted to reach Akolateronim’s soul, but he was afraid. Jumping from a cliff… Who would do that?

“Of course I do,” he replied, and then he jumped. Decisiveness was Jerry’s forte.

The air whistled in his ears and his hair flew. As he reached the ground, Jerry felt he was going to die…and then, the scenery changed.

Jerry now sat on a table filled with delicacies, the smell sweet enough to make his stomach growl. Akolateronim sat opposite him.

“You can have all these. Just let me go,” it said.

“No.”

Why would Jerry want this food? Marcus was an excellent cook anyway.

He swiped all plates off the table and the illusion broke, replaced by a natural warm spring. Jerry was in there, butt-naked and surrounded by stunning women. Their eyes were large and sincere, and their smiles were filled with love. Akolateronim was floating beside him, a white towel placed on its head.

“This is nice…” it said with a sigh.

“Are you an idiot?” replied Jerry, laughing. “I don’t need women or food.”

“What do you need, then?”

“Soft chairs, maybe. Shoes, too. And a world where everyone is happy.”

Akolateronim laughed like a human. “Well, that’s easy!”

Jerry suddenly found himself on a chair whose softness eclipsed anything he’d ever experienced. Euphoria spread from his buttocks to his entire body, and looking down, Jerry saw a pair of red mocassins.

“Wow, those are nice!” he said, wiggling his toes. “You must be very smart.”

Floating on a chair opposite him, Akolateronim smiled. “Of course I am.”

Jerry smiled back, then spread his arms and tore the illusion apart. Suddenly, he was back in the maze, and Akolateronim’s eye was widened to the extreme as Jerry’s soul had wrapped around his.

We became friends! it shouted in his mind. I even had a towel on my head—that was funny! You can’t kill me!

Jerry smiled. “I’m a good guy,” he said. Akolateronim was filled with joy, but Jerry’s next words sank him into the depths of despair, “but I’m not an idiot.”

No! I did everything right! NO!

A mad scream was the last thing to escape Akolateronim’s soul before it was sliced to bits; an advanced application of Jerry’s Soul Severing.

The floating eye collapsed to the ground and Jerry wiped his hands, looking around. “Well,” he said, “that was fun. Good job, guys.”

Boboar and Foxy gazed at their Master, standing over the traitorous hell hound’s body. Jerry approached it.

“You weren’t a good boy, after all…” He sighed, shaking his head. “It’s okay. Thank you for everything so far, Doggo. When I find a proper dog in the future, I will name it after you. Sleep well.”

He then rose to take a look around the room. “Well, that was fine and all…but where are we?”

Boboar oinked.

“That’s right, big guy. Doggo did not lead us to the exit. Let’s try to find it ourselves, shall we?”

Boboar oinked again, while Foxy yipped.

Jerry turned around to leave…and paused.

“Wait a moment,” he said. He paced to the library, squinting at the various titles. “Atlas… Bestiary… History… Art of War… Wow, so much useless stuff. Oh, here it is!”

He excitedly pulled a book off the shelf, gazing at it with wonder. Boboar and Foxy looked over with curiosity.

“Look, guys!” Jerry pushed the book on their noses as if they could read. “This book is called Introduction to Necromancy! It’s exactly what I needed!”

The two skeletal animals didn’t understand, but if Jerry was happy, they were happy too. Therefore, with whistling on his lips and a new book under his armpit, Jerry set back to wandering. The exit had to be nearby.