Episode 24

1

The jaws of the infernal beast closed over one of his arms. A last-minute rescue would have been welcome, but Yonah and Victoria were still not here for some reason. He hadn't even heard their voices. They hadn't yelled out to him to check if he was still alive, though not exactly well.

Why?

He couldn't understand it. Why weren't they here already?

For him, it was a much bigger problem than the infernal beast that was devouring his arm, bringing him even closer to death.

No. The possibility that they didn't see, for whatever reason, was the same as death.

Caim had been dead before they came into his life, after all. If now was the time to say goodbye... He couldn't bear it. It would be better to die soon, to be devoured quickly by this damned beast.

Why had his tired mind jumped to betrayal?

Maybe because he was weak, and he preferred them to continue living even as traitors than to think about something happening to them, a much more realistic possibility.

Crunch. Crunch.

The infernal beast, with those shark-like teeth, was now nibbling on the bone. There were already enough holes in his arm, so it hadn't even been difficult for it.

At what seemed to be the end of his life, he had been reduced to a cat's toy, biting like a rabid dog.

They must be fighting... to survive and to come back to me.

I have to do it too.

I will survive.

I will survive.

So what if this body was torn to pieces? That didn’t mean he didn’t have to worry about breaking it.

Caim managed to raise his right arm, even though it had seemed like it would never move again. The left one was, of course, impossible as long as it was trapped in the jaws of that beast, no matter how hard he tried.

"Is my skin and flesh tasty? They must be. I've been cultivating this body for twenty-five years. A twisted mutant like you knows nothing of the struggle called life. So savor it. Savor my life while you can. Because..."

Caim thrust his right arm into the throat of the mutant panther too. He didn’t serve it on a silver platter but used it to push the jaws, forcing them to open, reducing the pressure.

That wasn't his ultimate goal, of course.

The panther was not stronger than him, but it had the advantage of a superior position. It was crushing him with its body, maintaining the advantage, not just biting.

Caim would not be able to tear his left arm from the jaws of that creature, like a bear trap, so it was okay that he didn't want to.

"I can play this game too!" he shouted a second before sinking his teeth into the neck of that bitch, returning the bloody favor.

The scream that this ripped from the throat of the panther had more surprise than pain, although there was also no shortage of the latter.

No wonder.

It must be the first time the tables had been turned. Perhaps even, considering how life worked in this kind of place, it was the first enemy or other being this creature had encountered. Perhaps it had been born just minutes ago, as the second part of the trap started by the iron lady, with the end of finishing the job in case he miraculously managed to escape or rather, did not die instantly to begin with, impaled by hundreds of spikes.

Perhaps it had been born for that pathetic single purpose.

Then...

This could be called mercy.

Caim screamed, or laughed, he didn’t even know. The sounds emitted by the beast joined him. Perhaps that was the most his malformed animalistic consciousness could approximate to fun, perhaps it was pure agony.

In any case, he would silence it soon. Based on bites.

Caim was unstoppable. Every now and then he threw his head back to spit out the blood and flesh (the ones that weren't stuck between his teeth, in any case), but that was the only pause in his assault.

He didn't care if he could break his teeth in the process. Any damage that didn’t kill him could be healed by Victoria with some amount of time and magical energy, as long as she was alive...

And if she wasn’t, probably Yonah wouldn’t be alive either, so he wouldn’t want to know anything about this world anyway.

Caim bit into that infernal beast as if he were unleashing his rage upon the world. He tore it apart with his teeth.

The best defense was a good offense.

In this way, he gradually felt the grip of its jaws weaken. Everything about it weakened. After all, he was devouring it alive and taking all it could offer him.

He couldn’t help but smile.

With lips painted with the blood of an animal, Caim couldn’t help but smile while celebrating this strange and macabre spectacle.

Perhaps what was filling his stomach was not only physical things but the Vital Essence that Virgilio had spoken about, used as currency in this twisted place. But why would he want to exchange it for anything if it made him feel so good? That old madman could keep his damn trinkets.

He had more blood outside than inside, half of his organs were dangerously hanging out doing the same, and there were so many holes in his body that someone who didn’t know the human body could get a good idea of what a skeleton looked like through them.

But, somehow, he felt on top of the world.

As if he could keep doing this all day.

He didn’t have to do something so exaggerated. For now, he just had to last long enough to account for the enemy in front of him. After that, we would see. Everything in due time.

Whimpering moans. At first, he had compared it to a dog and it still could be, but in a different way. If now it resembled any dog, it was a chihuahua, small, helpless, beaten.

Of course, he felt no pity, haha, but still, it made him think about it.

It was a victory in every sense.

He had broken the spirit of the animal before its body. But in the end, he naturally broke both. It collapsed, remained motionless, and he knew it wasn’t smart enough to be playing dead. That it would never get up again.

But Caim would.

Caim would, only to... slip on the dog's blood and fall again.

The little air harbored violently escaped from his lungs.

"Fuck. Damn it," he muttered, somehow sounding more like a badly influenced child who had been caught rummaging in the cookie jar than what he really was, a man at death's door.

As if that wasn’t enough, he had ended up on his back when falling, looking at the ceiling.

That’s why he saw it perfectly.

He saw perfectly the same thing, that there was a ceiling.

The hole through which he had fallen had been closed somehow. No wonder they weren’t here yet. And even if they had yelled his name full of concern, their voices would not have reached him.

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He was buried in the darkness.

Alone.

Caim laughed.

2

"Shit. Shit."

Her daggers crossed again and again with the silver, almost transparent sword of the elven specter. Each time the clash occurred there was fear like a hammer in her chest that the sword would pierce through as if her daggers weren't there, yet sink into her flesh effortlessly.

But that never happened.

From the beginning, if he could have done such a thing, he would have tried. He had no reason to hold back.

Naturally, neither did she. She was not holding back in the slightest. However, she was not able to breach his defenses no matter how hard she tried.

"You are an extraordinary warrior," the specter said. "But your heart is caught in panic, making your moves too obvious for eyes like mine. This way, you will never defeat me."

Fighting meant positioning oneself on the edge between life and death. One misstep and it's all over. So what the elf was saying was evidently correct. A warrior had to remain calm and use their weapon as if it were an extension of their own body. Yonah had had many teachers, her thirst for learning was insatiable, and that had been basically the only thing they had agreed on.

Anyone who had been in a fight to the death at least twice knew those words were true. Yes, at least twice. Because the first time could happen letting yourself be carried away by rage, cold or hot, and therefore you could believe that losing control of your emotions made you stronger when the truth was just the opposite.

But... How was she supposed to stay calm? Damn it, how in the hell was she supposed to stay calm?

Caim had fallen into the depths of darkness. Now, he had the necessary skills to survive such a fall, no matter how long it was, or rather, the ability. Enough interwoven webs should cushion the impact. At most, he would break a leg, but he would undoubtedly survive.

However, who knew what awaited him down there, ready to try to devour him. Besides... She had heard him scream in pain! She had no doubt! Before the hole closed, she had heard him scream!

So, how, how was she supposed to stay calm, how?

And the problem wasn't just the damned elf. He had come with a companion. This companion hadn't done anything yet, but she was surely the more dangerous. That was what her instincts told her.

Also her sight. Or rather, what she didn't see.

From the waist up, she was a normal woman, albeit quite pale, but that was normal in a place like this where sunlight didn’t reach by any chance.

From the waist down... There was something, there had to be something, but she couldn't perceive it. When she tried, all she got for her efforts was a terrible headache. And since then, she hadn’t had time to worry about it.

The next attack from the elf broke her guard.

Therefore, Yonah was forced to yield ground and dodge, throwing her head back. She believed she had saved herself. That the sword, as spectral as its bearer, would only cut off a lock of her hair. But no. She had reacted poorly, just a little, just a bit too late...

So the sword slashed her cheek.

Yonah staggered back and brought a hand to the wound to check its state. It wasn't a deep cut. Nothing to worry about.

The elf suddenly leaped. He crossed the air like a panther pouncing on its prey.

He had to stop in mid-air and mid-movement to wield it, because suddenly he found himself not facing a single enemy, but half a dozen.

Victoria had completed the spell. Yes, the most dangerous of the two was also behind on her side of the battlefield.

She didn’t think the clones were especially strong, but they would at least be an effective distraction, as there was no way to tell which of the six was the real one.

Indeed.

Victoria had not only summoned the clones but had also instantly moved them, mixing them up to confuse. It was dizzying, but well, she recovered quickly.

She stayed back only a moment, watching as the clone crossed weapons with the elf. It was a bit unsettling, watching someone who not only looked like her physically but fought like her. Yonah was sure that the elf, as experienced a warrior as he was, also couldn't find the differences in the fighting style.

She threw herself into the fray before he could realize the truth through his doubt.

Fighting shoulder to shoulder with five 'people' exactly like her in height, speed, strength, tendencies, and style of fighting. She had never been a good team player until her life, everything, had changed, but what could be more natural and effortless than this?

She would crush this guy quickly. Meanwhile, Victoria could go down and help Caim. She had already provided support, so he wouldn't be fighting alone, and besides, it didn't matter, Caim could be in much greater danger.

She would manage or die trying.

Death wasn't too much. Death held no fear. What was truly terrifying, she knew very well, was living to regret the decision that had cornered you in that way.

After supporting her with the clones, Victoria must have been preparing a spell to break through several layers of ground and reach where Caim was. But she didn’t get the chance to use it.

Because "something" emerged from the ground, landing like a black star.

It took several seconds for her to recognize that "something" as Caim.

3

Caim had burst through several ceilings by force. His whole body should hurt, but he couldn’t feel anything. That was because thanks to this he could see with his own eyes that he had not been mistaken.

Victoria and Yonah had simply been delayed by circumstances.

Two enemies.

The ghost of an elf, apparently, and...

A strange woman.

He didn't understand it, but he really didn't have to. He just had to crush his enemies and open with his own hands the path to the future. A mere ghost couldn't stand in the way of the living!

That was what he said in his way, on all fours like a beast, and not because he didn't have the strength to stand up.

"You really are special," said the elf with the silver sword. "That trap should have killed you. Not only are you still here, but you can say that you are as good as new. Those tentacles... They're not your flesh, but they are flesh, right?"

The spirit's words were correct.

He had used [Ten Fathoms Deep] to summon the tentacles from his own body, filling the holes. Or at least most of them. The bleeding had stopped almost instantly.

It wasn't healing or regeneration, not really, but it was enough to keep fighting.

Victoria could worry about the rest.

When this was over.

Caim licked his lips. Yes, he had eaten a good part of the panther, but he hadn’t had enough yet. It was good that this tower was full of prey.

He leaped.

The tentacles were long enough to attack his enemy while he was still halfway there. He dodged a few, but he couldn’t run forever, like a hamster on a wheel, eventually his effort was futile and he ended up where he wanted.

The elf, whatever his name was, was forced to cross his arms in front of his chest and stop three of the tentacles with the sword.

Yes, he stopped them. With enough strength, he stopped the charge of three tentacles.

Not perfectly, as he was dragged backward and the ground was filled with deep grooves, but the fact was that he stopped them. The tentacles should have lifted his feet off the ground and sent him flying. He clicked his tongue.

No matter, he would correct that mistake right now.

Caim quickly approached close enough to attack with the sword and with the tentacles. At this distance, it didn't matter who it was, he would end up skewered even if he didn't summon more tentacles.

Which he did, of course. Why wouldn't he?

From the walls. From the ceiling. From the ground.

He pushed them out. It required a willpower equivalent to stabbing oneself in the chest, but if he had anything, it was willpower.

He was going to lose.

Caim knew it. The elf knew it. And...

"Caerwyn, step aside," she said. "I'm going to end this."

The woman knew it too.

His turn on the stage over, the elf ghost turned tail and fled into the shadows. Caim didn't even look at him. He was defeated from the moment he meekly accepted the words of that woman. He could devour the defeated prey whenever he wanted, that is, when he removed the only obstacle in his path.

The lower part of the woman's body was...

It was like a sea on a stormy night, and he swore he could see something, almost, but he didn't... It didn't crystallize, no matter what he did. He felt as if his head was going to split, trying to understand, to see.

And what did he have to understand? Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing. It was enough for her to die and get out of his way.

Caim took a step forward and that was the last step he took.

Because, for some reason, his neck opened wide and the blood began to flow like water from a fountain. She must have attacked him. But he had seen or heard nothing, so he hadn't even had a chance to dodge it.

Or to fight.

After so much bluster, he went for that strange woman without even having the chance to launch an attack.

Caim fell to his knees.

"The truth is that I also harbored some hope, much to my regret," said the woman in a dispassionate, dead tone. "But it's clear that you are not special. That you are like all the others."

I died.

[Those with the System live outside the system. I control my own destiny.]

Yes, that's not right.

I can’t be killed by something like this and I refuse to die.

As suddenly as the mortal wound had occurred in the first place, the blood went back into my body. And I, who had fallen to my knees, was back on my feet.

"How is that possible?"

She wielded the sword. My attack, however, crashed into an invisible barrier right in front of the woman. A pity. I was millimeters away from slashing her neck. Whatever that abortion of nature was, she probably wouldn't die from that, but I liked slashing necks.

[I control my own destiny!]

Another screen with words representing the scream of my soul.

I threw my arm back and hit the barrier again. It didn't yield, but it did crack. Third time's the charm, they say, and so it was.

The barrier burst into pieces with the third strike!

[Strength: 7 → 15]

I can't see it, but I've felt it clearly, without a doubt. And if there had been any doubt, even for a second, the fear in her eyes would have clarified it instantly. For the first time in who knows how long, the "woman" had become vulnerable.

She was my prey.

I intend to devour her without even leaving the bones.

Episode 24: FIN