Chapter Forty-Six

Ambrose found that the tunnel led to a winding cavern complex that had to be man-made. There were several rooms, and each one made the blood boil in his veins. Chains with collars on the end extended from the cave walls. Most were currently empty, but there was dry blood on the smooth stone ground, chains, collars, and walls. The scent of urine and feces hung in the air.

This had not been a dignified situation. Not that such a situation could be dignified. It was in the third room that he found people. Human beings chained to the cave walls, covered in filth, buckets of their bodily fluids near their person. A man was in the room, pulling on the chains and speaking.

“You all are going to provide us a decent chunk of change, let me tell you. Gotta say, the town really appreciates tha-eh?”

He turned just in time to see Ambrose’s gauntleted hand lash out and grasp him around the throat. Ambrose lifted the man, his eye cold. He began to squeeze. The man sputtered, his body shaking, blue eyes going wide as his rough hands clutched at Ambrose’s hand around his neck. His eyes began to bulge. He began to thrash, desperate to suck in air.

Ambrose did not allow it. His D-Grade strength was too much to overcome, and he had no mercy in him. Veins stood out, fat purple worms inside his skin. His pink tongue tried to wiggle out of his mouth, and he bit it with gnashing teeth, blood gushing from it, running down his chin.

He died a moment later. Ambrose tossed his corpse aside, regarding those in the room. Some were children, and Ambrose had to wrap another mental rope around the storm in his chest. There were two kids and two adults. A muscular man with broad shoulders, sharp, rat-like features, a long salt and pepper beard, and brown eyes. A small woman with soft brown hair that was matted and wild. Her apple-green eyes were dead, barely acknowledging his existence.

A small girl with bright red hair was in the corner, her hazel eyes filled with dread and tears. A small boy with blonde hair and blue eyes was near her, and even as Ambrose watched, the boy shuffled in front of the girl. He was crying too, but his eyes were filled with hopeless determination.

Ambrose felt a crack in the ice that covered his heart. Since Alice had died, he had hardened it. He had to do what must be done. It almost broke all over again, seeing that.

Almost.

“No one is going to hurt you anymore. I’m going to take care of these people. Once I do, I’ll be back to free you and take you somewhere safe. Okay?”

The man looked up,

“What can you do? They’re too powerful. I tried. Look what it got me.”

He held up his left hand. Or what should have been his left hand. It was a stump now. A bloody, infected-looking stump. He needed a doctor, a healing potion, or a level-up. Ambrose couldn’t do anything about it now.

“I’ll be back, just trust me. I know this is hard, but you need to hang tight.”

The man shrugged, and no one else said anything. Just watched him. Waiting to see if he would abuse them more. Ambrose knew trauma like that. He had caused some of it. There was nothing more he could say, not right now. So he left.

Noelle sent him a wave of comfort, but Ambrose used a mental shove to push it away. Some rage should be felt.

He found more people in other rooms, but these were more slavers. They fired guns at him, the shots booming like thunder in the caves around him, but they pinged harmlessly off of him. He didn’t even need Aegis, and he could not use it at the moment. Instead, he activated [Infernal Sanctuary], and ghostly chains of black fire exploded outward, wrapping around the six people in the room.

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They screamed in agony as Ambrose mentally pulled on the chains, black fire burning into their flesh and spirit. Ambrose produced his axe from his bag, and with precise chops, he executed each one. He had dismissed each notification because he hadn’t been leveling up from any of these kills.

The people were too weak for the System to reward him.

It went on like this for a while, Ambrose found people. He killed them. There was no challenge, no need to dodge or use clever tactics. Just butchery. Brutal, efficient, merciless executions, one after the other. By the time Ambrose found himself standing at a ladder that went upward, the caverns were awash in corpses. Headless meat sacks leaked blood onto the stone floor, the metallic scent staining the air.

Ambrose had picked up a rope he had found and put it into his bag of holding. I still have to bring that merchant with me; this will be useful, he had thought. He had found more enslaved people; the total number was at least twenty, five of which were children.

Each one had caused a fresh wave of wrath to pump through his chest. He bottled it. Rage is a useful tool, boy. Just make sure it’s a tool and not a master. Ambrose went up the ladder, ignoring his father’s voice. He found himself in a garage area. At least, that was his first thought due to all of the vehicles present. It was still cave-like, with a large stone ramp that led to the road beyond.

His eye-patch lit up and pierced the illusion of the mountain wall that hid the cavern from the outside world. His green eye scanned the area, taking in the vans, bikes, and other cars lined the cave. One of the vans stopped in the middle of the cave, and a familiar face got out.

It was Rudy. The bulldog-faced enforcer opened the back, and people in chains got out of it. A few men stood by, pointing rifles and barking orders at the chained people, all of whom looked scared.

Ambrose began to walk towards them, ghostly black chains from sanctuary hovering around him like tendrils of power. Rudy’s beady eyes picked him out in moments and widened as if he had just spotted a ghost. He let out a curse and launched a blazing orange fireball at him.

At the same moment, the men with rifles pointed their weapons at Ambrose and unloaded while the captives screamed, trying to run deeper into the cave. With an effort of will, Ambrose’s ghostly chains, writhing with black fire, lashed out and cut through the fireball.

The explosion of fire was hot, but Ambrose had experienced worse, and this just felt like a toasty bonfire to him. Ambrose threw his axe after infusing it, tapping [Infernal Smite] at the same time. The explosion of abyssal fire incinerated the group of men as his axe split one of their chests open as easily as it would split a log.

Rudy shouted, flinging fireballs at him as fast as he could. Ambrose’s [Infernal Sanctuary] cut through each one, and Ambrose walked through the resulting detonations of crimson flame as if it were warm water. A second later, he had Rudy by the shirt, lifting him up; he decked him in the face, breaking his nose for what must have been the thousandth time.

“Hello, Rudy. Did you miss me?”

Rudy’s eyes narrowed,

“Like a heart attack. Thought you were dead.”

Ambrose shrugged,

“Didn’t stick. Hey, where’s Eric?”

Rudy laughed and spat in his face, the glob of saliva trailing down Ambrose’s forehead like a moist slug. He reached up and wiped it away.

“Very funny. You know I could kill you in an instant, right?”

Rudy let out a chuckle, sneering at him.

“Like you aren’t going to do that anyway. What happened to your eye?”

Ambrose ignored the question.

“Tell me where Eric is, Rudy. You know I’m going to torture you otherwise.”

Rudy smiled,

“Go ahead, big boy. I always like a little pain. My safe word is “Fuck off.” Oh, shit, that’s two words, isn’t it?”

Ambrose was about to start breaking parts of Rudy was a woman’s voice came from behind him,

“Let him go. Still need him.”

Annie, the forerunner, had come to check on things.