As Qing Blinked, jogged, and hopped across the Howling Expanse, he'd kept his eyes gliding across the ground, never settling on any frozen figure. But despite his best efforts to avoid lingering on any particular visage, a familiar face had caught his gaze, and he found himself unable to look away.
His boots hissed across the ice as he slid to a halt.
Kaela.
Qing's heart seemed to skip a beat as he stared, transfixed, at her radiant smile. He knew why she smiled so. Instinctively, as if he'd remembered it every day of his life, he knew this day. All resistance was gone as he stared into her eyes as she walked towards him, resplendent in her flowing white gown. Gideon had procured the fabric specifically for this occasion.
Qing swallowed, suddenly nervous. They'd planned it for months, and finally it was happening. He threw a quick glance around the village square. Everyone from Shadowgrove was here. Flowers adorned every surface. It looked perfect. Everyone was happy. Finally it was their wedding day. Petra beamed with pride, wiping tears as she watcher her daughter. Gideon seemed stone faced, escorting Kaela, but Qing knew he was barely holding it together. And little Cleo bounced excitedly in front, tossing wildflowers every which way.
Qing thought back on everything that had led to this moment. Their triumph in the graveyard, defeating the traitorous Mercer. How they had ignored the scary portal and journeyed home, catching up with Rowan and defeating a group of demons.
How amazing Kaela had been when they found her parents missing they'd searched everywhere, even broken into Rufus' mansion together with Rowan. If Rowan hadn't found the door to the secret chamber… Qing shivered at the thought.
He looked to his left, giving his best man a smile and getting a nod in return. And Cedric. The only one missing. Nobody had even a clue he was a powerful wizard. But once they'd found the horrific basement, he'd taken charge, revealing himself. They'd all rushed through the portal.
Qing shuffled. The horrors of that demonic camp still haunted his sleep. He wished he'd been stronger back then. Maybe Cedric wouldn't have to sacrifice himself to obliterate the demonic forces.
But, that was in the past.
Kaela winked at him, and his pulse jumped. His mouth suddenly felt dry, thinking of the wedding night. A giddy energy ran through him.
They'd stay a few more days after the wedding, and then Kaela would join him in travelling to Earth, and he would heal meimei.
How did I get so lucky?
It all seemed so perfect, so attainable.
Geaser handed Kaela's hand to him with a brusk nod.
Kaela's strong hand squeezed his, and she mouthed 'hi sexy'.
Then Isadora started the proceedings. As the mayor, she had insisted.
Qing smiled from ear to ear, holding Kaela's hand and gazing into her gorgeous eyes. Joy filled his entire being. Nothing could be more perfect than this.
Then, as Isadora pronounced them husband and wife, Qing leaned in to kiss his bride, and smacking into something stone hard.
"What? Ka…Kaela?" She stood like a stone statue. He looked at Isadora, trying to figure out what was happening, but she had frozen too. Maybe Geaser knew… Where Geaser and Petra had sat a moment earlier now sat a horrific demon with three arms, holding a cleaver and a butchers chain. Qing screamed and scrambled away, slipping on the suddenly icy floor.
As his buttocks slammed down on the ice, the crushing wight of the 'what if' slammed into him. None of this was true. And it was all his fault.
"Darling!" he said, reaching for Kaela, but she melted like a wax statue put under the sun, blood, muscles, and bones collapsing under their own weight. The stench of death filled the air.
"No!"
Qing screamed himself hoarse as the bitter reality once again slammed home. Not only had he been to weak to save Kaela. He'd failed to rescue her parents. His nails dug into his cheeks as he clawed at his face. It couldn't be true. Even Cleo…
At the thought of Cleo being kidnapped by Rufus, a burning rage ignited in his chest.
The fuckers. It was all their fault. Their fault, and he was going to make them pay.
Fuelled by a righteous anger, Qing pushed against the vision and forced himself back to the harsh reality of the Howling Expanse.
* * *
Qing's eyes snapped open.
These damn—Ouch!
Pain lanced through his body. His eyes went wide as he stared down at dozens of arm-sized leeches clinging to his flesh, their slimy bodies pulsating as they gorged themselves on his blood and warmth. Their maws, lined with rows of razor-sharp teeth, tore into his skin with sickening efficiency. Black, oily ichor oozed from their bodies, hissing as it touched the icy ground.
Panic surged through him as he felt his strength ebbing away. With a desperate cry, Qing summoned his arcane power. "Arcane Explosion!"
The spell erupted from his body, tearing into the leeches. Their flesh blistered and bubbled, but they clung on, determined to drain him dry. Qing gritted his teeth and cast again.
This time, the leeches' bodies split open, spewing noxious fluids across the frozen wasteland. Still, a few tenacious parasites held fast, their teeth sunk deep into his.
With a final, agonised shout, Qing unleashed a third Arcane Explosion. The remaining leeches burst like overripe fruit, showering him with gore and viscera.
Qing forced himself up, panting heavily, wincing at the pain. They'd seemingly found every exposed part of flesh. Even the top of his damn head had been leeched.
He walked in a slow circle, afraid of standing still, and took stock of his injuries. Deep, weeping wounds covered his body where the leeches had feasted. He felt weak, drained of both blood and heat. There were fist-sized holes in the ice, already closing. It must be where the leeches came from. Did it mean they were everywhere?
This place fucking sucks.
He unequipped his gauntlets for a moment and blew on his hands as he reached for the warm energy above his head, pulling on the mana to cast Divine Light.
But nothing happened.
Not again. Not here!
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Panic clawed at his throat as blood flowed onto the ice, and he reequipped his gauntlets.
He tried casting the spell again, but there was nothing there. Instead he prepared to cast Chain Lighting. It sparked to life with ease. Nothing wrong with that. But…
Qing winced from the pain. They'd gotten him good, and he felt weak.
He opened the inventory and started at the single health potion he'd brought, licking his lips, about to select it. But he stopped himself. The wounds were painful, but they didn't seem life-threatening, and seeing his health and mana, he knew he couldn't waste such a precious resource.
Health: 230/370
Mana: 545/750
Qing forced himself to breathe deeply, and surveyed his surroundings. The Howling Expanse still stretched endlessly, with no end in sight. Only more ice. This must be what it felt like to walk across Lake Michigan at winter.
With careful consideration of his dwindling mana, Qing began to Blink across the frozen landscape, moving in bursts, allowing his mana to regenerate between jumps. Yet, each cast brought him closer to his goal, but more importantly, it brought him closer to leaving this damn place behind.
* * *
Qing blinked across the frozen wasteland, each landing sending a jolt of pain through his body. His wounds throbbed, a constant reminder of the leeches' feast. He gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the discomfort.
Why the hell isn't Divine Light working?
He reached for the familiar warmth of divine energy, but found nothing. It was like grasping at smoke.
Come on, come on.
Qing focused, channelling his will into summoning the healing light. Nothing. Not even a flicker.
Bloody hell.
He tried Smite next, attempting to infuse his fist with holy power. Again, nothing happened. His hand remained decidedly un-glowy.
What's going on?
Qing shivered, the biting cold seeping into his bones. His breath came out in ragged puffs of steam.
Maybe divine energy can't reach down here. It is Hell, after all. Makes sense there'd be some kind of... I dunno, divine signal blocker or something. Maybe that's why Seraphina's feathers turned black? No divine cell signal in hell?
He blinked again, and chuckled, stumbling as he landed. The constant use of magic was draining him, but he couldn't afford to slow down. Not in this place.
Or maybe...
A darker thought crept into his mind, and he skidded to a halt.
Maybe those feathered chicken fuckers cut me off. If they could, why wouldn't they?
Qing clenched his fists, anger momentarily overriding the pain and cold.
God damn angels.
He forced himself to jog for a while, bouncing across the ice, regenerating mana, each step a reminder of how much he'd come to rely on Divine Light. The constant ache of his wounds was so unfamiliar. He'd grown used to healing himself after every scrap, keeping himself in top form.
Should've known it was too good to last.
He took a look around, keeping his eyes slightly glazed over, careful not to look closely at any of the moving figures. Everything looked clear.
Maybe its time to look at some upgrades.
Qing opened the skill trees and took stock.
I’ve got two skillpoints available, one from the giant ape bastard and one from GGs mini-quest. And there’s fourteen stat points to set. Nice.
Qing also had several skillbooks. Three for level two spells, which he was unlikely to use skill points on, but maybe there would be something critical there. Losing access to the templar magic changed things. He also had three spellbooks for level three spells, and one for level four.
First priority is to sort out my health situation, and then find something to turn hell upside down with.
He slid across the ice, walking with no real rhythm, shielding himself from the visages by focusing on the skilltree.
Spiritwarden had two potential heals, though would he be opening himself to new imbalances by selecting spells from a class he hadn’t achieved mastery in yet?
Spiritwarden Spell: “Healing Breeze” (Heal)
A healing spell that restores health to the caster and nearby allies over time.
Cost: Low Mana
Cooldown: Medium
Healing Breeze was a contender. A heal over time instead of direct healing was less ideal than a straight heal, but, it was level two, so the skillbook cost was negligible.
I need more skillpoints.
Spiritwarden Spell: “Spiritual Siphon” (Heal)
Channel the life force from nearby plants or fallen enemies to recover health and mana for yourself and allies.
Cost: Low Mana
Cooldown: Medium
There was also Spiritual Siphon, but as it required him to channel life force from nearby plants or fallen enemies… The fallen enemies was tempting, but as he looked out across the desolate, the spell felt too risky. And it was a level four spell. Surely he could be spending his one level four skillbook on something with more of an impact. Though, the group heal aspect would be valuable as they were so many now.
Bonecaller Spell: “Life Leech” (Necrotic Damage)
A spell that drains a small amount of health from an enemy, healing the caster in the process.
Cost: Medium Mana
Cooldown: Medium
Life Leech could work. He’d been eyeing it since his very first skillpoint, way back in the graveyard with… He shook his head. Not thinking about her here. Too dangerous. But, how did bonecaller magic work in hell? He hadn’t activated shadowsight since entering.
What’ll I see? When using Shadowsight during the fight with the Butchers, there were dark lines going down into the ground. Were they going towards hell? If so, is this where all dead people go? And if not, where does the dead go?
He thought back to how it had felt to use his Spiritwarden senses, feeling the rottenness of hell. Just the thought made him feel nauseous.
But in the end, curiosity overcame caution. Qing closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and activated shadowsight.
The world exploded into chaos.
A tidal wave of souls crashed over him from all directions, sweeping through him, pulling at his sanity. Underneath his feet, the ice became transparent, revealing layer upon layer of trapped spirits. No longer did he see only himself reflected, but millions. More faces than he had seen in a lifetime of watching tv, walking the streets of major US cities, and even travelling back to the old country. The multitude of faces contorted in eternal agony, mouths frozen mid-scream, yet their eyes followed him. The sheer volume of suffering overwhelmed him, far beyond anything he’d seen in the mortal realm.
Qing staggered, nearly falling to his knees. The suffering emanating from these tortured souls was like a crushing weight on his chest. He gasped for air, drowning in an ocean of misery. Every instinct screamed at him to close his shadowsight and retreat from this nightmare, but somehow he forced himself to keep looking. These damned souls had been here for centuries, ages…what must have felt like eons.
As his vision adjusted, he threw careful glances around. The pull of the visions had lessened. Maybe because he now saw them all, not only himself.
With one of the careful glances, he saw a shimmering distortion in the air nearby, like heat haze on a scorching day, but emanating a dreadful cold eclipsing that of the Howling Expanse. The distortion pulsed, growing larger with each passing moment.
I don’t think that’s supposed to be there.
Thanks to his bonecaller mastery, Qing realized he was witnessing something unprecedented - a rift between the realm of death and Hell itself, torn open by his use of shadowsight. No-one had ever done so before. Or if they had, they wouldn’t have done so for long.
The ground beneath his feet suddenly shifted, and he stumbled sideways. Cracks spider-webbed across the ice, spreading outward from where he stood. The transparent surface fractured, and hands reached up from below, their silent screams rising in fervor as the ice threatened to give way entirely.
The ever-present howling wind, which had faded to white noise in Qing’s mind, whipped around him with renewed fury, carrying whispers that clawed at the edges of his consciousness. The voices of the damned, amplified by the metaphysical tear, spoke of terror beyond imagining. Their fear was not for the torments they already endured, but of something else - something coming.
As the wind shrieked past his ears, Qing caught a fragment of a warning. “It comes...”
Shit.
With a desperate mental effort, Qing slammed his shadowsight closed. The world snapped back to its previous state—the ice once again opaque, the whispers fading to background howls. The rift continued pulsing, but growing smaller, until it winked out of existence.
He stood panting, his heart racing, the wind roaring around him.
Then, a bone-shaking roar split the air, so loud he felt it through the ice.
Without waiting, Qing Blinked forward, doubling his speed. Whatever was out there, he had inadvertently drawn its attention, and he desperately didn’t want to meet it.