CHAPTER 51: THE HANGING ONES (4)

"He said we had only six hundred metres left before reaching Magodilin... before the Sanguivores attacked us," Yennefer said, her voice echoing faintly in the tunnel as they pressed on.

Her hand hovered close to her staff, her eyes darting nervously at the shadows clinging to the stone walls.

"So," she continued, glancing at Stephan, "if his information was true, we’re getting closer."

Stephan’s gaze narrowed, his boots striking heavy against the ground as they followed the path the gnome had taken. "If his information can be trusted," he muttered, each word laced with suspicion.

Grief walked in silence behind them, carrying Anna Mary gently in her arms. The faint sound of her shallow breathing was the only reminder of how little time they had left.

"Yes, we’re closer," Yennefer admitted, her voice low. "But there’s still a problem."

Stephan arched a brow. "What kind of problem?"

She gestured at the branching passageways ahead, their jagged mouths disappearing into blackness. "These tunnels. There are dozens of them. We don’t know which one actually leads out to Magodilin."

Stephan rubbed his chin, smirking faintly. "Ah, I see. That could definitely be... a major challenge. Funny how that never crossed my mind."

Yennefer shot him a sharp look. "It’s not funny. We take the wrong path, and we won’t just be lost. We might walk straight into a nest of those ugly bastards."

The weight of her words hung in the stale air, the silence of the tunnels suddenly oppressive.

"I can try out something, my Lord," Grief said softly. "It may be of great use, if you allow it."

"Huh?" Stephan cocked a brow, half-smirking. "Another trick up your sleeve? That’s my soul servant, alright. So, what’s this miracle technique of yours?"

Grief straightened her posture, her tone calm but laced with pride. "It’s called Ki..."

"Ki...?" Yennefer echoed, her eyes narrowing. She tilted her head, studying Grief with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity. "You can use Ki? What can’t you do?"

A faint smile touched Grief’s lips, the kind of smile that carried both confidence and a hint of mystery. "Ki is not just power. It’s instinct sharpened into art. If I channel it here, I may feel which tunnels breathe toward freedom... and which lead us into death."

Stephan’s grin widened, dark amusement dancing in his eyes. "Hah. Now that sounds useful. Do it, Grief....show me just how deep your bag of tricks runs."

Grief clasped her hands together, bowing her head slightly.

"My Lord... I can try. But it comes with risk."

Stephan raised a brow. "Risk? Explain."

Grief nodded, steadying her voice.

"Ki is different from soul energy. Soul energy is drawn from death, the spirit, the essence beyond the flesh. But Ki... Ki is the living force itself. It is breath, blood, movement, everything that makes us alive. When focused, it sharpens the body and the senses. I can use it to feel the flow of air through the tunnels, the faintest vibrations of stone, even the echoes of sound too soft for ears to catch. It could help us find Magodilin’s true path."

Stephan smirked. "Sounds useful. So where’s the catch?"

Grief’s lips tightened. "I cannot fully control it. When Ki leaks, it radiates... life. Raw vitality. To predators like the Sanguivores, it is irresistible, like the scent of blood in a river." She paused, meeting his gaze. "If I push myself too hard, they will know we are here."

Yennefer’s eyes narrowed. "So either it guides us straight to Magodilin, or it brings every monster in these tunnels right on top of us."

Stephan scratched his chin, grinning despite the tension. "Heh. A gamble, then. I like it."

"I’m hoping you heard the part where her technique could potentially attract Sanguivores?" Yennefer said coldly. "Or did it just go over your head?"

"We don’t have the luxury for second thoughts," Stephan snapped. "Anna Mary is dying, and we need to get the fuck out of here as fast as possible."

Yennefer scoffed. "You do realize she’s your rival in this tournament, right? Which translates to, she’s your enemy. Trying to protect her is like tying a ribbon on a viper and calling it a pet."

"Yes, she’s my enemy," Stephan said, his voice iron, "but we made a pact. An alliance to cut down everyone else until only we remain. I intend to honor that pact to the very end. Until then, I’ll keep her alive. I’ll fight for her until my goddamn hands splinter into bone and blood, if that’s what it takes."

Yennefer froze, her chest tightening. The sincerity in his voice struck deeper than she wanted to admit.

Could it be... he’s really that honorable? she wondered. Or is he... is he in love with her?

Her heart skipped as another thought slipped in, unbidden. She hesitated, then tapped her fingers against her staff.

"Well..." she murmured. "Since I’m part of your team too... would you do the same for me?"

Silence stretched, thick and suffocating. Stephan’s eyes locked onto hers, piercing, unreadable. Her breath caught. She looked away quickly, heat blooming in her cheeks.

"...Yes," Stephan said at last. He turned to Grief, his voice sharp again. "Do it, Grief."

"Yes, my Lord," Grief answered, bowing her head.

Grief stepped forward and carefully handed Anna Mary into Stephan’s arms. He adjusted his grip, the girl’s fragile body unnervingly weightless against him.

Grief closed her eyes. She drew in a long, steady breath, then exhaled, slow, controlled, as though shedding the world’s noise.

The air shifted.

It was subtle at first: a faint vibration humming through the stone floor beneath their boots, like the pulse of something buried deep below. The stale, suffocating air of the tunnels seemed to stir, brushing lightly over their skin in ghostlike drafts.

A faint warmth bled from Grief’s body, not the chill of soul energy but something rawer, alive. It radiated with each measured inhale, each release of breath, until it felt as though the very cavern was breathing with her.

Yennefer’s brows knitted. "What the hell is..." Her voice trailed off, lost beneath the low resonance thrumming around them.

Stephan narrowed his eyes, watching the transformation with grim fascination. The glow of soul energy was familiar to him, cold, spectral, tinged with death. But this... this was different. Grief’s Ki rippled out like heat on desert stone, unseen but palpable, stirring instincts buried deep in their bones.

The walls groaned. Tiny fragments of grit loosened and trickled down as the air thickened with pressure.

Grief’s lashes fluttered, then stilled. Her voice was a whisper, yet it carried like a drumbeat:

"The tunnels speak. Some breathe outward. Some breathe inward. One... does not breathe at all."

Her fingers curled slightly, as though plucking invisible strings. The ground answered.

Stephan shifted his grip on Anna Mary, a smirk tugging at his lips despite himself. "Heh. Impressive. You’re making the stone itself tell secrets."

But Yennefer wasn’t smiling. Her eyes darted to the dark mouths of the tunnels ahead. And that was when she heard it, beneath the hum of Ki, a sound that didn’t belong.

A scrape of claw against rock. And then silence.

"Did you find the exit?" Stephan asked, his voice rough with urgency.

"Yes. It’s just up ahead," Grief said, her tone steady but her eyes sharp. "But I found more than just the exit... the Ki drew their attention. The Sanguivores. Hundreds of them. They’re coming."

"Fuck, I warned you, didn’t I?" Yennefer snapped, gripping her staff tighter.

"We need to run, my Lord," Grief said, her voice edged with rare fear. "Fast."

Stephan clenched his jaw. Confidence was his armor, but he wasn’t a fool. He knew what a swarm of a hundred F- and E-rank Sanguivores could do to him. He couldn’t win this fight, not here, not now. He had to live to fight another day.

"Lead us out, Grief."

Grief broke into a sprint. Yennefer followed, her cloak snapping behind her. Stephan ran last, clutching Anna Mary against his chest, her shallow breaths whispering against his arm as if reminding him of the stakes.

The tunnel roared with their footfalls.

Four hundred metres left. They ran.

Three hundred. The air grew colder, the stench of rot riding the wind at their backs.

Two hundred. The first shrieks tore through the tunnel, piercing, inhuman, echoing off the stone like war horns.

Stephan’s blood surged. Closer.

One hundred. The faint gleam of daylight appeared, distant but real, spilling like salvation through the jagged mouth of the exit.

Then the swarm appeared.

Dozens, then hundreds, a seething tide of black-furred abominations. Their wings scraped the stone, their fangs gleamed, their shrieks melded into one thunderous roar. They filled the tunnel behind them, a storm of claws and hunger crashing forward.

"Move!" Stephan barked, his voice drowned beneath the scream of the horde.

And then, the Sanguivores lunged.

"Grief, take her for me," Stephan said, handing Anna Mary over.

Grief clutched her, then skidded to a halt near the exit, confusion flickering in her spectral eyes.

"What are you doing!?" Yennefer shouted, still sprinting.

Stephan’s lips curled into a sharp grin. "Go on... I’m bidding them farewell."

He drew the Ossuary Sword.

The blade pulsed in his grip, veins of pale light crawling across its surface like cracks in old bone.

"Right then," he muttered, leveling the weapon at the swarm rushing toward him. "I unlocked a new skill after I killed those three outside Kareth’Zul. Haven’t tested it yet... Guess this is the perfect chance."

The Sanguivores shrieked, a wave of wings and talons crashing forward.

Stephan inhaled, the Ossuary Sword humming, then roared:

"Ossuary Storm!"

The blade fractured with a sound like splintering ribs. In an instant, spectral shards of jagged bone erupted outward, spinning into a storm that circled him in a whirling orbit.

The first eight Sanguivores lunged, only to be shredded mid-flight, their bodies ripped apart as the bone storm tore through them. Flesh, wings, and sinew were severed in a single pass, the shards piercing straight through, bypassing hide and bone like paper. Their corpses collapsed into heaps of mangled carrion, already smoldering with ghostly white fire.

The shards whirled back, snapping together in a violent flash, reforming into the Ossuary Sword in his hands with a bone-deep clang.

Stephan rested the blade against his shoulder, smirk tugging at his lips. "Eight down... hundreds to go. Not bad."

Then he turned and sprinted.

The tunnel shook with shrieks as the rest of the swarm thundered after him.

But Stephan didn’t look back. The light of the exit rushed up to meet him, blinding and pure, swallowing his shadow as he burst through to the outside world.