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Death Eater
Chapter 33: Unholy Feast

Chapter 33: Unholy Feast

It took entirely too much for Kenan’s stomach to be satisfied. Luckily the bandits had a large stockpile of food. At first Noctis had reservations about eating stolen sustenance. Sometime after the fourth round of eating he stopped caring. He was thankful for Lucy and some of the survivors for continually providing him a pile of food.

Still now, after a pile twice his size somehow in his stomach, did he feel the pang of hunger. Using his inner eye, the speed at which his body was breaking down food and using it to refuel and repair his body was extraordinary. To end the feast he found Jefned. Searched the saddlebags for the flask. At this point his body was so eager for nutrients he didn't bother closing his nose, nor did his stomach threaten to throw up all of its contents.

After that, he told everyone not to bother him for the time being. He hadn’t seen Doco at all. Lucy was grumpy about her brother explicitly talking to her about not bothering him. Kenan shrugged at the exchange. He didn’t want anyone to see what he had to do next.

Off the side of the camp was a huge mound. A mass burial. Each bandit now resided in the pit. Rufus was wrapped carefully and prepared for a proper burial at the village. The two wolves had been set aside, just in case Kenan wanted something besides a mass burial. Which he did. Noctis, only in the company Dion. Walked to the top of the mound. He sat with his legs crossed over each other and back straight. The wolf pup laid behind him, pressing on Kenan’s lower back. Noctis unsheathed his blade and laid it across his lap.

The wind blew across him. Shifting his black, shiny hair. The sun in a clear sky sent soft rays towards him. Hesitation crept into his skin. Could he do this? Up to this point, he had only taken two souls. Yet they both were freely given. “Should I do this?” Dion responded with something between a growl, bark, and yawn.

“What if forcefully taking a soul will change me? Make me evil?” The wolf stood and shook. It repositioned itself to lay next to Kenan's leg. It put its head on his master's leg. Then softly bit Kenan’s hand. No pain. No sting. Yet the message was the same. “Thank you.” Dion put his head on the ground.

Noctis closed his eyes. The swift wind surrounded him in a cold chill. It churned around him until the cold pierced his muscles, and relaxed each of them. At the center of himself, a warmth pulsed. It didn’t conflict with the chill, but seemed to be amplified in it. He opened his eyes. Around was the familiar black void of Nonesthic. 13 different people walked around, endlessly in circles. Looking at nothing. Also, sitting patiently, was the white wolf. Immediately Noctis went up to it. It had no reaction to his presence. Kenan smiled, of course. He couldn’t be seen unless he wanted to be seen. He didn’t exactly know what he was doing, but he just somehow knew what to do.

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Noctis tentatively touched the wolf. He felt the bright blue light of the soul. A few times he merely probed it. Asking it a question. Then, instead of bringing it to himself. He merely directed it towards somewhere else. To its proper place. Suddenly behind the white wolf a doorway appeared. When it opened, an elk peered through that was surrounded by trees. The wolf in turn locked eyes with the beast. It leapt towards the target, through the doors. They closed, and the door disappeared.

Kenan turned to the rest of the souls. There should've been a Total of 25. Yet it seemed that some had already moved to another plain or had been plucked personally by Nonesthic. Kenan chose not to get personal with these souls. So he sensed thirteen of them in his mind, subtracted one. The other twelve, he envisioned their bright blue spots of life. An invisible hand went over each of them, snuffing the lights with their grasps. Seconds passed before Kenan retracted his attention. In place of the souls were twelve, light blue balls. He went around and placed them in a pouch. This was a pouch he could only see and use in his head, a place he packed away souls.

The last person was sitting. Large, green, and tusked. Roshu. He was looking around as if searching for something. Kenan walked up to him. Then allowed himself to be seen. The green-skinned looked at him, seemed surprised for a second, then settled in a contempt look. “Should’ve known you were a necromancer.” The orc said.

“I don’t deal in souls. I eat them.” Kenan stared at him. Roshu was about to come with a rebuke before he saw Noctis’ completely serious stare. “Tell me about Tulgon and his plans.”

Roshu chuckled. “It’s already too late for you. He will come with the armies…”

“Yeah yeah. He said that in the letter. Do you know how close he is to invasion?”

“At any moment he can…”

“For the love of gods. Can you at least tell me what the dagger and the pouch do?”

“He’ll rip your heart out…”

Noctis took two strides. Then placed two fingers on Roshu’s forehead. “You will never get to see orc heaven. Or wherever you want to go when you die. I hold your soul, I decide what to do with it. Your strength will be taken by me, and used to kill more orcs. Before your existence becomes obsolete. Any last words.”

The orc smiled. “Death always comes to those who deal with it.” Kenan crushed his soul immediately and made it into a blue ball. Then put it in his pouch.