I didn't want to die again. Not like this. Not as a puddle under some mercenary's boot. I gathered the fragments of my body, pulling myself back together with a desperate, violent tug. I felt something shift inside me. A spark.
*Devour,* a voice whispered in the back of my mind. Not my voice. Something older. Something hungry.
I didn't think. I just did it. I didn't attack her—I attacked the floor. I sank my consciousness into the cracks of the stone, searching for anything, any scrap of energy, any leftover soul-residue from the thousands of things that had died here before me.
I found a vein of corrupted mana, thin and bitter. I sucked it in.
*Sizzle.*
My body surged. I didn't grow bigger, but I grew denser. I felt my edges sharpen. I wasn't just a puddle anymore; I was a blade of shadow.
"Oh, so you're evolving on the fly?" she said, her voice dropping an octave. She didn't sound scared—she sounded interested. "That's a neat trick for a mob. Maybe you're worth more than a few copper coins after all."
She lunged. The holy blade came down like a guillotine.
I didn't dodge. I couldn't. But I didn't take the hit head-on. I split myself again, creating a hollow ring that the blade passed straight through. For a split second, I was beneath her. I surged upward, wrapping my shadow-tendrils around her wrist, trying to pull her off balance.
"Got you!" I hissed.
She reacted faster than any human I'd ever fought. She didn't pull away. Instead, she twisted her arm, using the momentum to slam her elbow directly into the center of my form.
*CRACK.*
I was flattened against the stone again. The force was immense. I felt my consciousness flickering, the edges of my vision blurring into grey.
"Nice try, kid," she said, breathing hard. She stepped over me, the tip of her blade hovering inches from my core. "But you're fighting like a human. In the Abyss, that's the fastest way to get deleted."
I lay there, trembling, my body struggling to hold its shape. I was exhausted, broken, and pathetic. But as I looked up at her, I realized something.
I hadn't died.
Every time she hit me, every time I felt myself shatter, I didn't just vanish. I came back. And each time, I felt a little more... solid. A little more adapted.
*Death is the only way to level up,* the voice whispered again.
I looked at the blade. I wanted it. I wanted the power it held. I wanted to be the thing that killed the people who killed me.
"What's your name, puddle?" she asked, her expression softening just a fraction.
"Kael," I managed to hiss. "My name is Kael."
"Kael, huh?" She sighed and sheathed the knife in one fluid motion. "Well, Kael, you've got two choices. I can leave you here for the scavengers to eat, or you can come with me and be my new favorite mistake."
I didn't trust her. I didn't trust anyone. But I had no choice. I was a shadow in a world of monsters, and she was the only thing that hadn't completely erased me yet.
"I'll... go," I whispered.
"Good boy." She reached down, not with her hand, but with a small, enchanted glass jar. Before I could react, she scooped me up, slamming the lid shut with a definitive *clink*.
Suddenly, the world was distorted, viewed through thick, curved glass. I was trapped.
"Now," she said, holding the jar up to her eye, her gaze piercing. "Let's talk about why a high-tier human soul is hiding in a trash-mob body. Because you don't smell like a monster, Kael. You smell like a grudge."
I slammed myself against the glass, a silent scream of rage.
Just then, a loud, booming horn echoed through the caverns, shaking the very foundation of the tower. The girl froze, her eyes widening.
"Dammit," she whispered. "They're here already."
She started running, the jar bouncing violently in her grip. As we rounded a corner, I saw them. A squad of armored hunters, their capes billowing, their weapons glowing with familiar, arrogant power.
And at the front of the pack, wearing a golden cloak that made my shadow-blood boil, was a man I would know anywhere.
Silas.
He was laughing, talking to some noble, completely unaware that the man he’d murdered was currently trapped in a jar ten feet away.
I pressed my entire being against the glass, my form twisting into something jagged and sharp.
"Kill him," I hissed, though I knew she couldn't hear me. "Let me out and I'll kill him."
The girl stopped abruptly, her grip tightening on the jar. She looked at Silas, then looked at me, a slow, dangerous smile spreading across her face.
"You want him, don't you?" she whispered.
She didn't open the jar. Instead, she stepped out into the open, waving her hand to get the squad's attention.
"Hey! Silas!" she shouted. "You dropped something!"