CHAPTER 45: THE TUNNELS (1)

As Rin’s body collapsed, the battlefield went still. Then Ding!

[System Notification!]

[Congratulations-Kill Confirmed!]

[Player Stephan has slain Rin (Rank E).]

[+10 Points Earned]

[First Kill with Lucidas’s Ossuary Blade! ]

[New Passive Unlocked: Marrow Reverberation- Each kill with the Ossuary Blade strengthens the blade’s aura, amplifying shockwave damage by +5% permanently.]

[Bonus: Shadow Caster Eliminated. Status Effects from "Shadow Coffin" have been lifted.]

The Ossuary Sword pulsed in Stephan’s hands, glowing faintly with an eerie light. The whispers of trapped souls rose louder, their chorus echoing in the still air like a thousand hushed screams.

Stephan exhaled slowly, smirking at the silent confirmation only he could see.

"Good," Stephan muttered, the Ossuary blade still humming faintly in his hand. "I can’t wait to test this against worthy opponents."

He turned toward Yennefer. Her expression was caught between relief, admiration, and fear, as though she wasn’t looking at a man anymore, but at something far beyond mortal.

"You good?" Stephan asked, the colossal bone blade dissolving into ash-like fragments before vanishing from sight.

Yennefer nodded, forcing her breath steady. "Yes." She pushed herself up, brushing the dirt from her clothes, though her eyes never left him.

"Humans are amazing," Fizzwigg piped up, scampering over. His little legs carried him so fast he nearly tripped over himself. "You were, fantastic, sir. Terrifying too."

He gave Stephan a jab with his elbow, grinning wide. "If gnomes could fight like you, we’d drive those Orc bastards straight out of our lands. Elves wouldn’t dare mess with us either."

Then he spun toward Yennefer, his grin softening into something almost reverent. "And you, my lady...you fought like a true goddess. Stand proud."

From behind, Grief appeared, moving with her usual calm, Anna Mary slung gently in her arms. The young woman was still unconscious, her breathing shallow but steady.

Grief stopped before Stephan and bowed her head. "That was a fine show, my Lord."

"Thanks, Grief," Stephan said. His gaze immediately flicked to Anna. "How is she?"

"Stable, my Lord," Grief replied softly. "But if we’re to save her, we must reach the gnome kingdom soon."

Stephan gave a firm nod.

"We could make it by tomorrow morning if the road stays clear," Fizzwigg said, scratching at his beard.

"Disturbed?" Yennefer arched a brow. "By what exactly?"

Fizzwigg’s expression darkened, his grin vanishing. "Other than your kind, and you’ve already seen the Orcs...there are things worse. Beasts that crawl only at night, things even Orcs fear. If luck’s against us... we’ll meet them on the way."

"What kind of creatures?" Yennefer pressed.

Fizzwigg opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, Stephan’s boots crunched against the earth as he walked away from the group, his path leading straight toward the corpses of Jack and Morty.

"Sir, where are you going?" Fizzwigg called after him.

"Stay there," Stephan ordered, his tone calm but heavy with authority. He didn’t bother to turn back.

He stopped before the lifeless bodies, the smell of fresh blood still hanging thick in the air. His eyes lingered on the empty stares of the men he had slain, and the system’s faint echo of congratulations still reverberated in his mind.

"So killing players earns me points," he thought, narrowing his eyes. "Are these deaths tied to the tournament’s rankings? The system didn’t explain... but I’ll find out soon enough."

His hand flexed slightly, as if expecting the familiar pull of souls. Nothing came.

"These three were my first human kills," he mused silently. "I used to think... in my past life... that killing someone would destroy me. That I’d drown in guilt."

A slow, humorless smile tugged at his lips.

"Funny. I don’t feel a thing. No regret. No pity. No remorse."

His gaze hardened, his reflection caught in the pool of blood by Jack’s side."So what the hell have I become? A monster?"

For a moment, silence. Then a low, dark chuckle echoed in his chest. "No... not a monster. Something beyond that. I’m becoming a god."

He crouched down, inspecting the bodies with a keen, almost scientific curiosity.

"Just as I expected... I can’t feel their souls. They’re empty. Untouchable. Which means the system doesn’t own the souls of other players. Or..." His brows furrowed as he straightened again, looking out across the battlefield. "Or maybe this cursed realm itself blocks my dominion. Even the Orc I felled... I couldn’t consume his soul either."

The revelation left a lingering unease in his chest. For the first time since his resurrection, there were questions even his power could not immediately answer.

Stephan straightened, brushing dirt from his hand as he rose from the corpses. He turned and began walking back toward his companions, his boots dragging slightly through the blood-stained soil.

"I’m running out of souls," he thought grimly. Each step echoed with the reminder that his reservoir was thinning. "Only eight left... I won’t last long in this realm on that. Every fight, every ability, every strike of Lucidas’s blade drains me further. If I don’t replenish soon, I’ll be no better than the prey I’m cutting down."

His eyes flickered toward the horizon, where jagged ridges split the land into dark valleys.

"There’s only one place I suspect I’ll be able to consume souls freely again, the Soul Desert."

The thought brought a cold hunger gnawing at his chest. He had heard about it from Fizzwigg, a barren wasteland where souls wandered untethered, howling across the sands. A place overflowing with essence ripe for the taking.

"After we reach Magodilin and Anna is treated," he decided firmly, "I’ll have to convince the gnome to take me there. No... not convince. He owes me. He’ll guide me whether he wants to or not."

The group turned as he approached, Yennefer’s gaze still caught somewhere between awe and unease, Fizzwigg fidgeting with nervous energy, Grief carrying Anna as though she were cradling royalty.

Stephan’s expression was unreadable as he stopped among them, but in his eyes there burned a quiet hunger. Not for battle. Not for blood. But for souls.

"Can we go now?" Stephan asked.

"Oh yes, let’s be on our way then.....before more Orcs come sniffing around. Or worse, your human buddies," Fizzwigg said, jittery but eager to move.

"How far is Magodilin from here?" Yennefer asked.

"About forty miles..."

"Great. Just great. Forty fucking miles," Yennefer muttered, dragging her hand down her face.

Fizzwigg adjusted his pack. "There’s no guarantee we’ll make it there safely. The road... it’s never simple."

Stephan narrowed his eyes. "What kind of complications?"

Stephan narrowed his eyes.

"What kind of complications?"

Fizzwigg hesitated, just long enough to make everyone uneasy.

"...Sanguivores."

Silence pressed down on the group.

"What the fuck are Sanguivores?" Yennefer asked.

"We also call them ’the Hanging Ones,’" Fizzwigg muttered. "They’re giant creatures that lurk in the tunnels leading to Magodilin. They cling to the ceilings, waiting in the dark for something warm-blooded to pass beneath. They’re blind, but their hearing is sharper than you can imagine, they can catch the beat of your heart from two hundred meters away."

Yennefer scoffed. "Sounds like giant bats to me..."

Fizzwigg shook his head. "I’ve no idea what a bat is. But I know this, Sanguivores can strip a man dry before he screams. Even orcs fear them. Weak elves don’t stand a chance."

"Are they stronger than Orcs?" Stephan asked.

"No... not exactly," Fizzwigg said. "The danger is in their packs. They use fear, surprise. One-on-one, an Orc would win. But an unsuspecting Orc?" He gave a small shrug. "That’s just dinner for the Hanging Ones."

"They hunt like Bonehowlers?" Yennefer asked. "So if we meet a few of them... we’re in trouble."

"With you two at my side," Fizzwigg replied, "I’d wager we’ll reach Magodilin in one piece, so long as we stay sharp in the tunnels."

A silence hung over them.

"Tell me, gnome," Stephan said, his tone like a blade. "If these creatures are so dangerous, how did you make it out of Magodilin alive? And what did that Orc mean by calling you a thieving gnome?"

Every eye shifted toward Fizzwigg.

He gave a low, mirthless chuckle. "My, my... that question wasn’t part of our bargain. And I’ve already told you, I don’t care why you humans are here."

"We told you everything," Stephan said flatly. "About the tournament. The death gods. The other players. All of it."

"Yes," Fizzwigg said, voice dropping into a whisper, "but you offered that up freely. I never promised the same." His grin sharpened, humorless. "There are... reasons I made it through those tunnels. Reasons you wouldn’t want to know. Not yet."

He let the words hang in the air, his eyes flicking across each of them, one by one. "If the time comes, maybe I’ll tell you. Until then... keep your noses out of my past. That is..." he leaned forward slightly, smile curling unnervingly, "if you still want your friend healed."

"I can torture him to death, my Lord, and drag the truth out of him," Grief said, his voice like broken glass.

Stephan smirked. "That won’t be necessary, Grief."

"Not until we get to Magodilin, anyway. If he betrays us... you can gut him however you like."