The windslide carried me ten yards, far enough for the mists to shield me from the gazes of the furious weavers.

Four hostile entities have failed to detect you! You are hidden.

I smiled wanly. Ironically, the very nether that was responsible for my current peril was now sheltering me from its minions. Stretched flat across the ground, I raised my head slowly and listened to their angry calls.

The weavers were not drawing closer.

I lowered my head carefully, more relieved than I cared to admit. The stygians had elected not to pursue me, choosing instead to guard the seed. It made things easier and meant I could finally acknowledge my body’s sorry state.

Void armor depleted. Your health has decreased to 30%.

The blight thorns had wreaked havoc on me, shredding my void armor and forcing quick mend to trigger. It was a wonder I’d escaped at all. Nor was I safe yet. In my reduced state, the constant drain from the free-floating nether hit hard. I urgently needed to heal, but first I had to escape the fog bank.

Opening my mindsight, I searched for Ghost and found her quickly. By the looks of it, the spirit wolf was anxiously pacing the edges of the fog bank. Drawing in psi, I blinked to her.

You have teleported 25 yards to Ghost.

Ghost spun to face me the moment I appeared at her side. “Are you alright?”

“I will be after I tend to my injuries,” I rasped. “Keep—”

“—watch,” Ghost finished. “I know. I’m on it. Just see to yourself.”

I smiled through the pain. My companion was growing more confident by the day, and I no longer questioned her competence. Forgoing further comment, I closed my eyes and gathered psi.

✵ ✵ ✵

You have fully restored your health, mana, and psi.

You failed to acquire the spells: blight thorn (stolen) and vengeful armor (stolen).

Your nether absorption skill has increased to level 61 and reached rank 6.

Your channeling has reached rank 11.

Your chi has reached rank 13.

Your dodging has reached rank 14.

Your insight has reached rank 15, allowing you to learn tier 4 abilities.

A little later, I opened my eyes. My health, mana and psi pools were fully restored, and the pertinent Game alerts attended to.

In some respects, the encounter’s outcome was discouraging. I’d gained no levels, taken more damage than I expected, and had lost the opportunity to learn two potentially useful spells.

My new fade buff had had no perceptible influence on the skirmish either. The weavers had targeted me easily enough throughout. Perhaps, though, I was being too harsh. It was still too early to judge the ability’s performance, after all.

Enough naysaying.

Despite everything, I had killed two of the weavers, I reminded myself. That made my opening foray a success. I had learned much of value, too, and was certain to do better the second time around as well.

I rolled back to my feet. It was time for round two.

✵ ✵ ✵

I re-entered the fog bank wrapped in shadows and cloaked by the nether. The weavers remained agitated. Crouched and hiding only a few yards away from the seed, I watched the four stygians pace around their charge in an unhappy circle.

The weavers were also keeping their buffs and protections active, and every few seconds, the green light beneath their torsos would flare. Clearly, the creatures were going to great lengths to not be caught flat-footed again.

Sadly, their precautions would aid them little.

Drawing my stygian blade, I gripped it with both hands and held it aloft. Then I waited.

Four necrotic pulses flared outwards—healing spells needlessly cast on creatures already at full health—and in the next instant, the light beneath the weavers’ torsos dimmed. Now, I thought. Choosing a target at random, I shadow blinked.

You have teleported 3 yards.

I emerged from the aether less than two feet from my chosen victim, blade already in motion and seeking blood.

You have killed a stygian weaver with a fatal blow.

A stygian weaver’s vengeful armor has injured you!

The shortsword struck cleanly, cleaving through the joint connecting the weaver’s head and its torso. The corpse crumpled beneath me, and I whipped about.

Three hostile entities have detected you! You are no longer hidden.

The other stygians reacted instantly—and predictably. Swinging around to face me, they released a flurry of projectiles in my direction. I’d learned my lesson though and did not stay to face the onslaught. Rolling out the path of the incoming projectiles, I spun psi.

You have evaded 3 blight thorns.

I leapt back to my feet, casting ready. Laying down a windslide, I hopped on and vanished into the mists.

✵ ✵ ✵

My second assault had been surgical. Neat. Clean.

Other than for the unavoidable damage I sustained from the dead weaver’s vengeful armor spell, I’d walked away from the encounter untouched.

Now, I prowled the fog bank again.

Despite my twin successes, the weavers had still not altered tactics and remained stubbornly on guard next to the seed—a mistake they would pay for soon enough.

Padding softly through the mists, I inched closer to the stygians until they swam into view. Barely pausing to assess the situation, I blinked in, slaughtered my chosen victim, and fled again on wings of air.

You have killed a stygian weaver with a fatal blow.

Then, I repeated the maneuver twice more.

You have killed a stygian weaver with a fatal blow.

You have killed a stygian weaver with a fatal blow.

You have reached level 167!

Your nether absorption skill has reached rank 7.

Your shortswords has reached rank 15, allowing you to learn tier 4 abilities.

Chest heaving and standing over the body of my latest victim I stared at the remains of the six stygians. In the end, the strength of the weavers’ magic had counted for little.

They’d been unable to adapt to my own tactics and had paid for it dearly. Not only had the weavers failed in their duty to guard the seed but they had gifted me with a generous amount of loot too. Extracting my alchemy stone, I placed it inside one of the weaver’s bodies.

The stone activated, pulsing emerald. In response, the corpse shrunk, shriveling before my eyes, and in less than a minute, it vanished entirely. Picking up the object, I moved to the next corpse and repeated the process.

While I waited for the alchemy stone to collect the reagents, I attended to my other chores.

Your Magic has increased to rank 24. Other modifiers: +14 from items.

You have successfully stored the cold sphere spell in the ring, mage’s surprise. This spell may now be trigger-cast when required.

In total, slaying the six weavers had earned me two levels, and advanced two more of my skills to tier four. A not-inconsiderable return, and in the process, I’d lost nothing except a little time and stamina. I smiled. A profitable exchange.

The alchemy stone finished harvesting the last corpse and I picked it up.

New ingredients acquired: 30 x lumps of necrotic plasma and 6 x vial of nether residue.

Idly, I wondered if there were weavers in the other fog banks too. If there were… But before I could pursue that thought further, a slip of motion around the corner of my eye drew my attention.

It was Ghost sniffing at the stygian seed.

“Get back, Ghost,” I warned. “You don’t want to mess with that.”

Not retreating, the spirit wolf met my gaze. “Why? Is it dangerous?”

“I’m not sure,” I admitted, “but there is no telling what the seeds are capable of.”

“It is aware,” Ghost mused, lowering her muzzle to the seed again.

It took me a moment to parse that. And when I did, my eyes widened in shock. Throwing open my mindsight, I searched the vicinity. But despite Ghost’s assertion, I detected no consciousnesses nearby but my own and the spirit wolf’s.

Still, when it came to such things, I trusted the spirit wolf’s senses more than my own. “You’re saying the seed has a mind?” I asked, needing confirmation that I hadn’t misunderstood her.

“It does,” Ghost replied. “But it is tiny. Even from this distance I can barely make out the shape of his mind.”

I was growing more alarmed by the second. “His mind? You’re saying it’s a ‘he?’”

Without looking at me, Ghost bobbed her head. “He is inviting me in. He wants to talk.” She lowered her head farther, nose almost touching the seed. “I just need to get a little closer...”

“Get back, Ghost,” I snapped.

Caught up in her fascinated study of the seed, the spirit wolf did not respond.

I rushed to her side, wishing she had physical form so I could wrench her aside. “I mean it!” I roared using my mindvoice and infusing my words with the lash of an alpha’s command. “GET BACK!”

Ghost shrank back on her haunches, instinctively responding to my tone. It was not one I’d ever employed with her before.

“But you said it wasn’t dangerous,” she protested.

“I said I wasn’t sure if it was,” I ground out through clenched teeth. “Now, get back.”

Meekly, the spirit wolf retreated, shoulders hunched and head lowered. I’d scared her, I realized and immediately felt guilty, but I kept my demeanor stiff and stern.

I was scared too. I had no evidence that the seed was dangerous— other than for the fact of its origin—but my own instincts were prickling, and they were telling me that to let Ghost commune with a mind born of the nether would be a mistake.

Her curiosity it’s going to be the death of me, I thought morosely, watching carefully as the spirit wolf backed farther away. Only when she was a good ten yards from the seed, did I approach it myself.

Immediately, the putrid fragrance of spoiled flesh assailed my senses. Damn, that’s awful. Wrinkling my nose, I brushed aside some of the tainted meat with the tip of my boot.

A deep furrow had been carved in the earth all around the small seed, and packed in its depths was the flesh of many creatures, not just the frost ent’s. Some of the remains were desiccated and dried out—as if something had sucked them dry.

Hells, how long have the stygians been feeding this thing? Holding my nose, I crouched down to take a close look at the seed itself.

At the far reaches of my mind, I felt a faint... tickle. Not hesitating, I flung myself back.

The feather touched vanished.

Sitting on my rear, I exhaled a slow relieved breath, not missing the irony of the situation. Not a moment ago, I’d been berating Ghost, but here I was behaving just as carelessly.

Reminded of the spirit wolf, I glanced back at her. “Raise your mind shield. As high as you can.”

“But—” she began.

“No arguments,” I said forcefully and maintained a hard stare on her, only relenting when her mindglow disappeared from my mindsight.

“Thank you,” I murmured. Turning my focus inwards, I saw to my own defenses and transformed the pool of psi at the pit of my subconsciousness into steel bands that wrapped around my mind.

You have cast mind shield. Psi abilities are unavailable.

Then, I approached the seed again.

No foreign thoughts impinged on my own as I kneeled down. Good. Uncovering the seed fully, I studied it. The thing was smaller than the one in the rift, but in all other aspects, it was identical and burned with a blackness so thick not even the mists could obscure it.

I tugged on the seed, but fused to the rock beneath, it didn’t budge. Sitting back, I rubbed my chin thoughtfully.

Ghost had said the seed had a mind. That bothered me. Why hadn’t I felt anything from the other seed—the one I’d taken from the rift? I had carried it on my person for a considerable time, after all. Had it touched my mind and I’d simply not noticed? Or was there something different about this seed?

So much to learn, I mused. Reaching out with my will, I inspected the seed in the hope the Game would tell me more of it.

This is an artifact of unknown rank. You are unable to discern its properties.

I sighed. So much for that idea. I drew ebonheart. It was time to do what I came here for. Raising the black blade, I chopped down at the base of the seed. Once, twice, thrice.

It broke free.

You have acquired a stygian seed.

Rising to my feet, I turned about to find Ghost staring at the seed in my hands. “Can you feel anything from it?”

She shook her head mutely.

“Good,” I said. “Keep your shield in place until I figure out what to do with this thing.” The seed was valuable and would earn me a small fortune if I ever made it out of the dungeon. But I also didn’t want to carry it on me, not knowing when it might invade my thoughts.

Maybe I can find somewhere to stash it.

“Let’s head back to the plateau,” I said. I glanced up at the looming cliffs I knew to be hiding beyond the nether. “The cliff walls here can’t be any harder to—”

I fell silent, not sure if I could trust my eyes.

I could see the rock walls in question. Not clearly, but blurred by the intervening nether. Still, I could see them. What’s more, they were growing more distinct by the second.

The fog bank is dissipating.

I glanced down at the seed in my hand, finally realizing its purpose. The stygians weren’t using the seed to anchor a rift. They were using it to anchor the fog bank.

The void is using the seeds to spread its touch in the dungeon!

It was a wild leap, and one I made with not much to go on, but I was certain of my conclusion. And there was an easy way to prove it. If I was right, I would find a seed at each and every fog bank. And that meant…

I laughed.

If I was right, I wouldn’t be leaving Draven’s Reach with a small fortune, but a veritable mountain of gold in stygian seeds.

Ghost whined.

I looked up to find the spirit wolf studying me quizzically. My instruction that she keep her mind shields locked tight meant she couldn’t speak to me with her mindvoice.

I opened my mouth to explain the source of my delight but was interrupted by the arrival of a Game message.

On behalf of Wolf, the Adjudicator has allocated you a new task: Cleanse the Corruption!

You have discovered one of the means by which the nether is spreading its touch in this sector. Find a way to cleanse the dungeon of the void’s presence, and remember that, above all else, Wolf is a protector. Objective: Rid Draven’s Reach of the nether’s corruption.

“Well, well,” I murmured. The arrival of the new task was all the confirmation I needed that I was on the right track in hunting down the stygian menace.

If I searched the fog banks, I could rid the dungeon of the void’s touch and get rich in the process. I grinned happily. For once, things appeared to be going my way.

“Prime, look out!” Ghost screamed. “Incoming from above!”