The valley was as they had left it: broken apart by the fight and littered with the corpses of all the killed jadari.

It was a grim scene. One Alan had contributed to the most out of everyone involved. He stuck to the rock formations, used the tents as for cover, and moved carefully. He peeked in a few of the jadari’s living spaces but found nothing of note. Only more small pieces of ore and shoddy bedding.

There was no sign of Jay and his companions. Whatever whole parts had remained of their fallen friend’s body were also gone. Alan could appreciate that. He liked to think that when he finally failed and died his body wouldn’t be left to rot in the middle of nowhere. Then again, he roamed the world alone. Who would bury or burn him? Who would care? Emerson perhaps. Walter? Did Zirida? Kalyntha was probably over him. She was but a clone that had ceased to exist once she returned to the original.

Maybe I’ll just feed the soil, or be trapped in a Dungeon to serve an eternity. A sentient NPC. Slavery. Ah, getting eaten is probably much better.

Something told him his questions had a different answer, but he didn’t want to dwell on that one for now. There would be time for Bone Lord, his servants, and all others who deserved the anger he smothered deep inside.

The thought of Ashlyn passed through his mind. His longing for his friend was lesser now. Muted. The change he had lived through had affected it somewhat. He wondered if she had changed as well, and if so, how. Finding her was still a priority, but considering the size of the world and the fact that he couldn’t even leave the damn forest didn’t give him hope.

Perhaps she would return to the Sanctuary on her own.

He reached the pile of rotting corpses – supposed humans from Earth, or other humanoids unlucky enough to be caught in the integration. The worthless items stripped off the dead and thrown about were also there, but it looked like they had been rummaged through yet again.

Alan frowned. Was there something he had missed, but Jay hadn’t? The pouch was there and he took it quickly, before using the half-torn-apart pyramid as cover. Mr. Muge’s identifier appeared in his hand.

[Spatial Pouch]

No shit. That was… not much. He opened it, but it was completely empty. Trying to force some mana into it as he had done with other items didn’t do much either. Wasn’t the owner dead? How was this supposed to work then?

After a few unsuccessful tries Alan decided to do the last obvious thing and cut his finger with a piece of shadow. The finger he had reduced to bone due to his experimenting was coming along nicely, but it was a grim sight made worse by the fact that it was attached to him. The nerves and flesh were slowly formed under the almost imperceptible glow of mana. There was constant pain, but he paid it no mind.

The Bone Lord had made sure of that.

A drop of blood fell on the material and finally, there was a connection. A thin thread of belonging. Alan smiled as he felt it, and then his consciousness sank into the item. He saw the contents in his eye’s mind.

A broken phone. A makeshift doll. Dirty remnants of office spaces probably gathered during adventuring. The phone was the most telling that the previous owner had been an Earth human. It was a sad thing, but Alan couldn’t really mourn them. The way of the System was ruthless.

He briefly wondered if any of his relatives were alive. He long stopped caring about his ‘family’ and their attitude… but they were still blood.

Perhaps not anymore, after everything.

There were a few other curious things – mostly scrolls. Strange pieces of parchment paper that looked somewhat alien. Too perfect in their make, as if created by a skill or the System itself.

There were no glowing symbols or sense of mana coming from the scrolls. Depicted in them were many symbols, cylindrical grooves that looked like someone had tried to sketch the inside of a wood line and numbers that made no sense. Etchings and drawings are all they contained. It was all foreign to Alan, but perhaps it wouldn’t be to someone else.

Enchantment studying materials? Recipes and guides? Mr. Muge, you lucky bastard. No matter what I do you win the most.

The rest in the pouch was a bit of food – fruits mostly. Pink apples, strange cone-shaped green things he hadn’t seen before, a jug of water, and a blanket.

The pouch seemed to be able to hold only a few cubic meters worth of items. A far cry from the seemingly evergrowing shadow inventory he had.

It was certainly very valuable. He could trade it, once he got back to the trading system. He probably had a ton of System Points to trade for mana stones or something else. That would serve well in his next ritual. Or he could do it in person to someone who had things they could offer. Alan was interested to see if there were any armor makers working together with Mr. Muge.

He needed protection that could save him should his shadows fail. And they failed often. The shadow shield that intercepted any surprise attacks was difficult to constantly regenerate during combat, and [Shadow Creation] was much more of a utility or attacking skill at the moment.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Improving his dominion over the shadows was a sure way to change that though, especially if he managed to intertwine the void in it. What would the result be?

It was exciting to think about. The first thing was enchanting his flesh.

Alan didn’t dwell much further. He had half a mind to cut apart the giant jadari’s corpse and see if it had a core or something, but he couldn’t really bear to do that right now.

Scouting a bit further was the best course of action. If his Tome became usable again he would simply take down another boss with the help of [Hateful Mist Cut]. It was a cheat skill, but it was his and it would help him improve if he managed to gain any insights.

And it would boost his Quest rewards; he hoped they would overshadow the shoddy loot by a lot.

After storing the remains of the jaderin ore mountain the giant boss had snacked on, just because he was able to and because it could turn out useful, Alan continued.

He took an unexplored tunnel, hoping he wouldn’t run into Jay and the others. They had probably left after their loss, but it was good to be vigilant. He didn’t trust human nature.

The tunnels led him through quite a few Crystal Caddis habitats and took a few more into his shadow inventory. They could turn out to be useful. He had yet to try their meat, but if the jadari were surviving on them, then how bad could they be? Even food was not simple in a System run world.

He also met a few patrols, but they posed no issues to him and even gave him another level, bringing him to 116. They were small, without any [Screamers]. Leveling up was making Alan excited about his next skill and resolved to pick something that would diversify and improve his firepower.

While [Void Pierce] was very useful, it was turning out to be even less of an advantage than [Mana Zap] had been. The latter was the blueprint upon which he had created a lot of different things, and it felt like [Void Pierce] had taken that way.

Not that he couldn’t recreate it, but it was more difficult than producing shadow slashes from something like [Shadow Creation]. It took effort that impeded more creative thinking.

Still, the fights were good ways for him to experiment. Observing the way the shadows moved, trying to remember the feeling of all-consuming hate that had given birth to [Hateful Mist Cut], and attempting to merge void into the shadow, were all things he tried out with varying degrees of failure.

There was no success.

It was natural though. What he was after was an obscure idea. His experience with skill was limited to what he had seen and what he had. The change was a slow process most of the time, despite the System actively working against the notion of ‘slow’.

By the time he reached another massive underground cavern, he was level 117. He was way deeper into the mines now and observed the scenery perched from a ledge that was closer to the ceiling of the cave than the bottom. It was a small opening, unfit for anything other than peeping through.

Below him sprawled something akin to a village that differed a lot from the valley of the giant jadari. It was many times larger, with square caves dug out in the walls, and rock formations serving as watch towers or at the very least tall homes.

What worried him were the jadari themselves. Many were just like the ones he had encountered or even smaller and weaker. Few [Screamers] lodged here and there. He saw some of the ore-clad jadari closer to the center of the settlement but beyond it… everything was different.

The creatures were simply more refined. More humanoid. They wore dresses and sheathed swords ornamented with various symbols and tassels. He could see it all in the low light due to the strange glow of jaderin ore perched upon poles, almost like street lights. It was different than the unrefined ore. Or was that iron? It was difficult to tell the two apart from this distance. He had seen quite a few iterations of the ore and all looked similar, but nothing like this.

Deeper into the very center, was smoke. It billowed and reached the ceiling of the cavern, where small artificial-looking holes took it in, like some sort of a natural absorption mechanism. Perhaps it was a remnant from the times when the mines were built.

It worried Alan. He couldn’t take the settlement alone, and employing the tactics he had in the Valley was out of the question. There were no small groups thrown about, waiting to be picked off. This was an army in the making.

He saw no sign of other giants, but the depths of the settlement were out of view. He could barely see the outlines of tall exits leading to somewhere even deeper on the other side. What was the point of it all? Was the dungeon just a punishment for a whole race? Was he supposed to slaughter them all to fulfill the quest?

For a moment, the thought of the grand rewards that awaited if he did something like did almost made his mind latch onto the idea. [Hateful Mist Cut] could kill the lot if he angled it right.

He shook his head. That was not him, and he knew it would be a mistake. Maybe what he had done until now had been a mistake.

The jadari were broken people. He had seen not much intellect in their features and the snarling and aggression had allowed him to think of them as monsters. Now thought? There were children down there. Small panther-like humanoids.

He was the Scion of a forgotten race, and he was supposed to slaughter another such race for rewards? That was insanity.

A sudden sense of revulsion washed over him, and the shadows whispered disjointed things, like an army of confused ghosts. There was no anger in their unintelligible words, nor anger. There was sadness and confusion. And a tinge of insanity.

Deep, ancient insanity that made reality seem not what it was.

It was a thought that made Alan withdraw into the dark tunnels. He clutched the rocks to stop himself from shaking.

One moment the dungeon was a game. He killed tens, hundreds even, for the promise of rewards. To grow his levels.

In the next, he was suffering yet another identity crisis.

I can’t go on like this. It was as if his mind was getting worse and his determination was eroding every few days. Many things were influencing him, and grabbing hold of them was a priority. Was that to be done by getting stronger though? Levels fed his skills and traits and made them stronger too.

He believed he had achieved control upon tiering up. Now he was going through the same journey as before, only everything was more intense. More dangerous.

The changes inside him were more palpable and confusing than ever, even if he managed to keep a slight sense of self most of the time.

Gritting his teeth Alan fled where he had come from. There was no use in wasting weeks, or months even in guerilla warfare with the jadari. They were no danger to anyone.

The thought of finding another boss quickly fled his mind, and Alan resolved himself to leave the wretched place.

The two quests appeared in his mind. They were the opposite and yet he had done a bit of both. He wasn’t sure how much.

One wanted him to rid the mines of the jadari’s presence, which he had done a lot of until now. Something he felt had been a mistake after the sight.

The other wanted him to show them the light, and kill the monsters plaguing them.

A sense of unease accompanied Alan as he rushed far away from the promise of untold rewards and the thrill of slaughter.

Some of the shadows were disappointed.

And yet a weak light lit up and chased away some of the darkness upon the road of ancient stone.