I stood back up while checking my body. I felt lighter stronger even almost as if the very composition of my flesh and bones had changed, it scared me. However, right now I had no time to lose. My body might have changed because of the miasma and it might already be completely contaminated but that didn't make my situation any less perilous. If I continued to be exposed to the miasma like this only the gods could know what would become of me.

I began walking again, testing to see if my soul ability could be fueled with the miasma that resided in my body instead of mana. It worked but the difference was clear, it hurt, a lot at that. Whenever I activated it I felt like my body was being torn to pieces before being reconstructed. I fear that by using it I am accelerating the mutation process. As of now, I will leave it as a last resort, after all, I truly don't want to end up as a hideous beast.

I kept walking through the maze-like passages and corridors. Monsters here and there which I no longer avoided. Something within me wouldn't allow me to deviate from battle, like a thirst that couldn't be quenched. I kept battling and advancing, trying my best to map the places in which I had been in my mind.

Another group of undead monsters approached me, hound-looking creatures with rotting flesh or none at all. I few kicks and punches where enough to take care of them. Whatever the miasma had done to my body made me far stronger than what I had been before, but it also made me more violent. I could feel it, the enjoyment I got from snapping their necks, it made me sick but I couldn't get enough of it.

As I kept advancing more monsters appeared, moreover they were stronger too. Wherever I was heading to could not be the exit, since monsters should become weaker the closer one got to it. However, I didn't feel like turning around, I desired battle, and even though I knew I was in a tight spot, I only felt excitement.

After a few more battles I swept the blood from my eyebrow. With the last of my sanity, I kept myself from going all out or overusing my soul ability. I needed to at the very least keep myself from losing all traces of my humanity. It was hard, killing these monsters had become like second nature to me, the only desire that was left within me was that of battle. Like a drug addict trying to part with their addiction, I tried to keep my mind on my objective, fleeing from this cursed place.

I kept venturing further into the dungeon. There were many bloodstains on my clothes and face, some dry some fresh but I couldn't care less. I felt something calling to me, something strong. I knew deep in my mind that I should avoid it at all costs but I could not help my curiosity and desire. I was limping a little, I continue to refuse on using my solubility. My right leg bled no more despite the broken and rusted blade that impaled it. My left arm suffered from some horrible acid burns from another rotten slime. I felt pain, but I didn't mind, I could tell the miasma was causing my mind to decay albeit slowly.

I finally arrived in front of a large wooden door, the patterns engraved on it would make anyone feel repulsed but at this point, I couldn't care less. I got closer to it before kicking it open, I already removed the broken blade from my leg and tied a piece of ripped cloth on it. The door slammed open. The insides were pitch black for a few seconds before becoming illuminated by light with a blueish hue. Looking around weird torches could be seen giving off said light. In the middle stood a figure sitting, if it were to stand up its high would be no less than five meters and no more than seven.

I entered the room, my heart beating loudly. The door closed behind me and the creature began moving. As it stood up I could see clearly bones and rotten flesh, it was undead. Our eyes met for a moment, or should I say eye, as it only had one and my own would not open due to an injury. No words were needed and we lunged at each other. My fist collided with the massive wooden club this undead troll wilded. I could hear the crack that came from both the wood and my bones. I quickly took a step back before attacking once more. Like a dance, our attacks collided. I was having fun, despite the pain, I couldn't help but smile. I was hurt, my body ached, it screamed for me to go all out, to heal myself but I refused. Soon I could dodge no longer and the wooden club landed on my head. Dizziness took over me as the troll took the opportunity to strike over and over again.

I began to laugh hysterically, as I graved the club with one hand despite the complaint from my bones. I had gone and done it. I was back to my prime as I allowed the thick miasma in the atmosphere to be absorbed into my body. All my wounds were now gone, and the only thing that remained was the horrid pain caused by my own ability.

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The troll could feel the change I had gone through and round two started. Our attacks became savage and only grew wilder by the second. The room trembled each time we collided. The wooden club had long been discarded after it broke from the pressure and now the battle had escalated into a fistfight. I knew I couldn't win, no matter how hard I hit the troll it took no damage and the same could be said of me. Thanks to the absurd amount of miasma in the air I had an endless reserve for my regeneration.

I can't tell for how long we have been going at each other. The room was filled with cracks everywhere threatening to collapse at any moment. It did under my feet. after I blocked the troll's fist the floor could not take any more punishment and it crumbled. I fell through it into a dark room and soon the hole closed up by itself.

Just like before the room lit up. Looking around I saw two swords opposite from each other exuding with power. In the middle stood a whole set of plate armour which began to move. It held a bastard sword while moving in my direction. Once more a fight broke out, however, this time was different. The armour couldn't withstand my attacks as it deformed with each hit. The cuts it made on my flesh were quickly healed and in less than five minutes it was reduced to a pile of scrap metal.

I noticed that in the back a plate with a message shone with a dim light. Curious I got closer and began to read it out loud.

"I beg of thee who finds this place to leave. The power contained within should never be wielded by men nor is it possible to do so. Only destruction and despair await for those who are in possession of these swords. Like me before you, calamity shall strike. Heed my advice and leave for the price is too high"

I looked back at the blades that stood to my left and right. One exuded an aura of holiness while the other felt wicked. One had an exquisite form, while the other felt contorted and deformed. I was intrigued, what could these objects bring upon the man that wrote this message to strike such fear?

I got closer to both, despite their completely opposite aspect and feeling I felt that they had to be together no matter what. My hands trembled as I grabbed the hilt of both. One was contained within the whitest of stones and as my hand came in contact I could feel my body and soul being cleansed. The second was chained up, like a beast that shouldn't be allowed the slightest of movements, the hand that came in contact with it felt a burning feeling almost as if it tried to consume my existence.

I made my mind and pulled with all my strength. The stone shattered alongside the chains and the previous feelings each gave grew exponentially. Despite the pain, my left arm felt I didn't dare to let go, somehow it felt necessary. That burning feeling felt like a flame that, if used correctly, could help me erase everything I despised.

After a while, I grew used to the feeling each gave. I glanced at each with awestruck eyes. One had a beautifully crafter white blade with golden embroidery, its handguard gave a silvery glow with the tiniest tinge of green. As for the hilt, its firmness was like no other made from a slightly blue leather of unknown origins. The other was beautiful in its own way. Despite the cursed vibe it gave off, I couldn't help but be amazed by its form. A single black edge with blood-red crystals forming on the other side, no handguard as if fearing no attack. The hilt covered in scale-like brownish-red leather truly imposing.

"You have a light like no other, I accept you as my new master"

"The darkens embedded in you is true, I accept you as my new master"

Both voices resounded in my mind at the same time, however, I could comprehend each word without a problem. The voices were childlike, but the tone contained wisdom no living creature could have.

"Odd"

"For both of us to accept the same master"

"You are a strange one"

The voices seemed amused, however, I couldn't tell what to do now, so I decided to ask.

"You, are the swords?"

I could hear a slight childish giggle in my mind.

"Yes we are"

"Don't worry it's alright for you not to understand"

"There aren't many like us after all"

"Conscious and perhaps living"

I relaxed a little, the tension I had felt ever since falling in this hell hole was slowly fading away. This too made me feel calm somehow.

"We should tell you a story"

"Yes, the story of our birth!"

"After all, our master should know shouldn't she"

I nodded slightly unknowing if they could see me doing so. However, it seems they could since soon after their tale began.