As the last red rays of sunlight retreated behind the hills, I dragged myself along the side of the bar, lighting the candles and tidying the stools. A few of the customers had left scraps of bread on their plates and stew in their bowls as they fled the bar at Morgon’s command. I helped myself to the leftovers. Waste not, want not. Or as Riffy would say, waste not, want nut.

Despite healing back to full during my rest, my leg hadn't regrown. Below the knee, my leg ended in a vicious stump. Splinters of bone and jagged scar tissue stuck out when I raised my Practitioner's Robe. It was not a pretty sight.

I still had a perk to pick. None of them promised anything about fixing limbs, but the more I thought about it, the more I was drawn towards Soul Bound. Something about it just… intrigued me. Maybe I should ask Morgon about it.

I glanced at the old dwarf and immediately changed my mind. He was tending to Serilla and the expression on his face was fiercely protective. His tanned and battle-scarred arms worked with a practised calm that disguised the dread I knew he felt at this moment.

Whoever this Lafarron is, he must be dangerous to make the old Gladium champion this nervous. Why is he coming here anyway? How does this all relate to Serilla?

I could sense the tension building. It was making me uneasy. I hate just waiting like this. I need to be doing something. I read through my perk options once more. The sensible thing would be to continue Stat Bumping my Mind so that next time I level up, I can buy more perks… but the fucking rules won’t allow it because I already used it this level. Even though, I technically used the Intellect point I gained from a previous level up, they all seemed to count for this level. So, there are downsides to saving up perk points… that’s good to know. At least there is a silver lining to this cluster fuck.

I glanced again at Serilla. She remained unchanged. Whatever happens here tonight, Serilla. I’m here for you. We’re gonna get through this. There are some mushrooms I’ve got to show you. We can pretend to be those mushroom princes you so admire.

I looked again at the perk options in my Pocket Book. Indecision is a sign of weakness. I smiled to myself.

“Fuck it,” I said aloud as I picked Soul Bound.

Perk Unlocked: Soul Bound. Select Skill?

A list of choices appeared in front of me. The options weren’t limited to my available skills, but also included all of my passives too. Then my heart skipped a beat as I saw something near the bottom of the list.

NULL’s Rust Blade (Hybrid Magical Brutality).

Thrust with your palm open to form a Shattering Blade dealing Rust damage. This Skill has your name on it.

“How?” I blinked a few times and threw my arms up in disbelief. “I don’t understand how?”

Obviously, I wouldn’t be receiving answers anytime soon. There must be some background mechanics to do with Skill creation and ownership that had given me access to the skill from my past life. But honestly, who cares? I’m definitely picking that one.

I selected Rust Blade and the list vanished.

Nothing happened.

Oh shit, did I fuck it up?

I slammed my hand down on the bar. “For fuck sake!” My hand stung. I’d shattered a clay bowl without realising and one of the fractured pieces had lodged itself into my hand. I pulled the shard out and put my bleeding hand to my mouth. The taste of iron calmed me.

I wonder if AIAI deliberately offered me that Skill so that I would lose out?

It was impossible to tell if I was just being paranoid at this point. So much of this world had sought to fuck me over. Heck, even stepping into a hot spring had cost me my leg and my newest friend.

“It’s time,” said Morgon.

Around the room candles flickered, some sputtering out as a draft crept into the tavern. The wind outside had picked up. I could hear the gales against the shoddy glass panes. If I could see the trees outside, I’m sure the branches would be bending, but through the grime smeared windows, I saw only the tavern reflected against the pitch darkness outside.

A frowning, pale face appeared in the glass. A teenage boy, maybe sixteen, with locks of unkempt brown hair and and a ferocious, determined sneer on his face. He jerked back in surprise when I spotted him. Oh, that’s me. I realised I was seeing my own reflection.

I shook my head and continued to scan the tavern, waiting for something to occur.

Morgon paced back and forth besides Serilla’s body. After a few moments, his head snapped up to look at me.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Stop tapping like that,” he said. “It’s irking me senseless.”

I realised I had been rapping my fingernails on the wooden bar. I crossed my arms over my chest and breathed a calming sigh.

“What should we be on the look out for?” I asked. “If you tell me what to expect, I can—

Serilla screamed. The high-pitched wail was ear-splitting and echoed throughout the building. As it dragged on it only rose in volume.

I raised my hands over my ears, grimacing.

The scream morphed into something deeper, something guttural and primitive. It wasn’t just emanating from Serilla anymore. The sound was everywhere. The cry was layered, deep and insidious, high-pitched and urgent.

Finally, it faded and was replaced with a low chuckle from the center of the tavern.

Lafarron stood tall, the candlelight avoided him. Dressed in a fine noble attire of crimson and gold, he had his back to me, tense at the sight of Morgon.

Morgon was a statue of himself. Only his eyes twitched as Lafarron sighed indulgently.

“Dreadhammer, it’s been a while.” Lafarron’s voice was smooth, almost charming. Far removed from the snarl, I had expected. “The years have changed you, Champion of red. The mortal string has turned to grey.”

“You have no business here, Lafarron,” said Morgon.

“Now, you and I both know that’s not true.” Lafarron glanced around at his surroundings and for the first time our eyes met. He was smiling, but his eyes were ice.

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I drew a faint breath and his lips parted, pearly white teeth and fangs.

I reflexively leaned back into the bar, then flinched out of the stool at the sudden closeness of his voice.

“And who’s this darling?” he whispered from behind me.

I hadn’t seen him move, but as I turned towards the sound, I found him leaning over the bar behind me.

I raised my arm to shield myself and it passed straight through him. A streak of blood from my palm splattered the wood.

“You’re hurt,” he said. “I can teach you how to fix that.”

Basic Restoration? I need that skill back.

He grinned openly at the expression on my face and his eyes swept up and down. He leaned closer and pointedly stared at the bottom of my practitioner’s garb, where only one leg was visible.

“You look as though you’ve suffered, boy. It’s a cruel world. We all learn it sooner or later. I can help you. I can give you the power to change things. You don’t need to fear me.” He stepped straight through the bar. His feet almost touching mine. We were so close, I could see the pores on his marble white skin. His hair was black and flowing, just like Serilla’s, but longer and more restless. His locks waved in the slight breeze, a few strands seemed to reach for me. “I can raise you from the mortal rat race. I can gift you godhood. You don’t have to struggle any longer.”

“Leave this place,” said Morgon. “You have no power here, demon.”

“I’m not talking to you, old has-been.” Lafarron didn’t turn. His eyes were locked onto mine. I was frozen. “All I need is a word, young… Null. Just say yes and I will save you from this pain. I can make you better. I can make you unstoppable.”

“Don’t listen to him, lad.” Morgon crouched beside Serilla, lifting her head into his hands. “It’s a devil’s bargain. He’ll ensnare you.”

“I offer an exchange. An accord. Immortality for service. The pleasures of eternity are worth a little loyalty.” Lafarron’s face grew stern and he pointed a slender finger at Morgon. “Some would refuse out of sheer ignorance and misguided faith. This entire world is a facade and all who refuse to bow to the deceivers are spurned and vilified. In this war, you must decide. Will you bow like a sheep, herded by the shepherds, suffering like cattle under the yoke while your master’s shear you of all potential, rob you of all hope, devour and degrade you... or will you join me and the wolves at the gate? Together, we shall tear down the rotting structures of the vile and cancerous All-Mother.”

“You’re actually making a lot of sense,” I said.

“No, lad,” cried Morgon.

Lafarron swept his arms up and bowed with a pleasant smile on his perfect lips.

“But I’ll make my own way,” I said. “I’ll tear apart the All-Mother by myself and I'll destroy everyone that tries to stop me. Including you, if it comes to it.”

The demon revealed himself. What was beautiful became sinister and vicious. His light eyes, flashed with reflected candlelight, then were black and impenetrable. “You mock and threaten, pretender. Your performance is little more than the desperate prattling of youth. You have nothing. I have eternity”

Serilla gasped and jerked up to a sitting position. She turned to face me, but it was Lafarron’s voice that escaped her lips. “This one is mine. I will have her and you, foolish child, will regret your misguided display of arrogance.”

“Release her, demon.” Morgon slammed his hammer down the on ground. The entire tavern shook and I hopped closer to Serilla.

“The roll of fate shall decide.” Lafarron chuckled.

A shadow erupted from the ground. A spire, coalescing from the smoky, coiling darkness. A spinning-wheel formed out of the shadows and on each spoke of the wheel was a symbol. In white, was a symbol shaped like the moon and this symbol covered most of the spokes, but in a few places, glimmered crimson calligraphy, a curled letter ‘L’ on a crest of winding vines and thorns.

“The Thrall will make the spin to decide our fate,” said Lafarron through Serilla.

Serilla rose to her feet and staggered towards the spinning-wheel. She slumped forward onto her knees and raised a trembling hand.

“Morgon,” she said, and her voice was her own. “If it happens—”

“I know, lass,” said Morgon. “You can count on me.”

“You don’t have it in you, old beggar,” said Lafarron.

“I don’t understand,” I said. “What’s happening?”

“The spin,” said Morgon, as Serilla reached up and turned the wheel. “The spin decides whose soul returns to the body. Be ready, lad. If the vampire returns, we must kill him before he regains his strength.”

I gulped. I can still cast quicksilver. I should be ready to Surge and strike with everything at once.

“What will happen to Serilla?” I asked.

The wheel clicked as it turned, the spire loomed menacingly. Serilla stared up at it with a haunted expression, her clear, leaf-green eyes shone with a heartbreaking beauty in desperation.

She must have sensed me watching her because she turned to face me. “Don’t hesitate.”

I opened my mouth, but no sound emerged. The clicking of the wheel drove daggers in my guts.

Serilla held me with her gaze, waiting for an answer.

“I…” I couldn’t say it.

“Don’t hesitate, Null.” Her voice was commanding, but also pleading.

I stared into her deep forest eyes and knew that I couldn’t kill her. She was one of the few. One of the ones who actually cared about me. I can’t carry on alone. I need people who see me and don’t only desire to steer me to their will. I need her.

“Lafarron,” I said. “Let’s make a deal.”

He was suddenly standing beside me, the wheel continued to click as it spun.

“Better make it fast,” he said. “What are you offering?”

“First, I want assurances. Serilla returns and your claim to her is over. She’s free.”

“You don’t have enough to offer me to make such a deal.” He smiled and raised an ethereal arm over my shoulder. “She can have a free pass, this time. But the next, the rules remain as written.”

“What will that take?”

“Same deal as before,” he said. “If you willingly accept my bite, I will share my immortality. In return, you will come to me when summoned and you will obey my command. You will kill who I ask you to kill and you will obey whoever I ask you to obey.”

“And what happens if I just refuse your demands?”

“There are ways to make you comply,” Lafarron grinned and his teeth seemed to number the hundreds. “Now, make your decision. Will you accept?”

I glanced again at Serilla. She seemed frozen in fear. There was terror in her eyes, but something more… hope?

Morgon was staring at the ground. He couldn’t make eye contact with me. He can’t admit that he’s willing to sacrifice me to save her. It’s fine, old man. She’s like your daughter. I would do the same thing. Heck, I am doing the same thing.

“Yes,” I said. “I accept.”

The spinning wheel vanished, then so did the bar. The entire tavern was plunged into total darkness. Serilla was gone. Morgon was gone.

From out of the darkness, stepped Lafarron. He was different here, fragile. No longer dressed in fineries. Here he was decrepit, a naked skeletal ghoul with frail limbs and scant white hairs falling from his ashen head. He limped towards me, shamefully and slowly. He wrapped his wrinkled arms around me.

I was too disturbed to react. Too disgusted to move.

He leaned in, pressing his face to my neck. His teeth punctured my flesh. The pain was minimal, pathetic even. There was a small suckling sound. Is he purring?

The bite lasted for minutes, but I didn’t grow faint. My health dipped down slowly to near death, but he stopped before it reached zero.

He spoke and his voice was whisper thin. “When you die, you will rise again, undead. The first time is free. The next will involve the wheel. That is, of course, unless you can find an alternative means to resurrect me.”

He laughed low. “Life eternal, and all I seek is loyalty.”

He looked me full in the eye. “Kneel.”

I felt my leg reforming beneath me.

“Disobedience will only result in pain. Are you one to go back on your word out of sheer stubborn pride?” he asked.

Now is not the time to test him.

I trembled with barely restrained rage, but slowly lowered myself down to the ground.

The moment my knee touched the floor, I was back in the tavern.

Serilla was hugging Morgon, she was shaking. They pulled apart and Morgon sobbed.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he gasped.

“I’m sorry,” she wept. “Morgon, I was an idiot.”

“Explain it to me later,” he said, wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeve. He nodded at me. “He’s back.”

She turned and saw me kneeling. “Null!”

Suddenly, she was all over me, embracing me, slapping me. She couldn’t quite decide whether to kill me or kiss me.

“Alright, alright,” I said. “Get off.”

I rose to my feet and looked down at her.

“Oh,” she said. “You’re tall.”

I grinned. “That’s not the only thing that changed about me.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I can’t believe you did that for me. You’re an idiot. But also a hero.”

I raised my hand up and scratched the back of my head. “I owed you,” I said. “But yeah, I guess I am pretty heroic.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Besides, I couldn’t have you miss my duel with old beard face…”

“That will have to wait until tomorrow,” said Morgon. “I want the story of everything that happened to you two since you left this bar last night. And then I want some sleep. Tomorrow, we can discuss the arena and the repayment.”

“Repayment?” I asked.

“Aye. For the bowl you broke.”

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