Chapter 14

Heading through the portals was relatively uneventful for Jackson. It was not until he went past the wall that things went south. He was blasted off his feet, slamming into the ground with painful force. He slid across the stone ground a couple of feet, and his head hit the corner of a wall, blurring his vision and sending his head spinning.

“I knew we would find you here! Murderer! I am going to end you!”

Tilting his head upward over his chest, Jackson’s blurry vision managed to make out a very angry-looking Riselle and a warrior he did not know. He shook his head and blinked his eyes, allowing himself to see a little more clearly. The warrior was small in stature, had flowing brown hair, piercing brown eyes, and was bare-chested. He wielded a truly massive axe in one hand. Jackson picked himself up, and Riselle’s blazing eyes were focused directly on him.

She raised her staff, and weaves began to form around it. Jackson held up a hand.

“Wait! Can we talk about this? Please Riselle.”

Her blazing hazel eyes intensified, her hands clenched, and her very presence was radiating violence, blazing with uncontrolled rage as she let her temper run about like a stallion on the planes.

Risellle snarled and unleashed another blast of force Jackson’s way. He rolled out of the way, coming up facing her. Lazarus was leaning against a side wall, studying Riselle.

“I don’t think these two are here to play nice and have a discussion with you, fledgling. If you don’t want to imitate what a rag doll looks like, I suggest you strike back,” Lazarus’s tone was cheerful and helpful. Jackson did not pay attention to the spirit.

Instead, he analyzed the pair.

This is Riselle, a level 20 druid. This is Azlam, a level 18 barbarian.

Jackson blew out a breath. This would not be an easy fight. He knew levels were not everything, but it was a sign that they had a little more experience. Riselle sent another force blast his way, which he dodged as smoothly as he could. So far, the barbarian had not joined the fight, and Jackson needed to engage before he did.

With that in mind, he immersed himself in his Domain and gathered his mana, and with it, he began to weave. Blood and destruction wove together, and from that weave came lightning. The crimson lightning crackled and hummed with power. Riselle’s eyes widened, and Jackson flung it, not at her but at her barbarian partner.

The barbarian rolled out of the way, and the lightning exploded against the wall with a boom. Azlam turned toward Jackson slowly, eyebrows raised. Riselle, for her part, gaped as well, but her expression turned cold.

“It doesn’t matter how many tricks you may have picked up; I’m going to end you.”

Then she blasted Jackson with force, but he was ready and ripped lightning out of the air. It detonated against the blast, causing an explosion of lightning. Lazarus clapped,

“Oh, good move. I wonder if you’re starting to see the problem, though.”

Jackson scowled and thought about it. It didn’t take him long. They were at a range, and he didn’t have any weaves that could effectively harm them. The lightning could be dodged or countered, so flinging it the way he was wasn’t doing anything effective. Riselle’s face was twisted in rage, but she was also tired of doing the same thing over and over again.

Which is why she began to weave a different spell. Azlam hefted his axe as she did, and Jackson sensed something was different.

“Oh, that’s interesting. I do believe the young lady is about to shift. I haven’t seen that done in an age!” Lazarus sounded like he was enjoying the show. All he needed was a snack.

Jackson glared at the ancient spirit, but he didn’t spare him too much attention. Instead, he ran towards the pair. Azlam smiled grimly and set his stance. Jackson kept running, Azlam raised his axe, Jackson grew closer, Azlam began to bring his axe down in a deadly strike, and that’s when Jackson began to weave, and at the same time, he rolled under his strike and to the side at the last possible second. The deadly axe missed him, and Azlam could not reset himself fast enough. Jackson’s lightning took him in the head.

You have dealt Azlam a fatal blow! Azlam has died!

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Blood lightning has increased to level 4.

Azlam’s head exploded like a detonating bomb, with blood, brain matter, and viscera flying through the air in all directions. A weird smell had filled the air—a kind of burning meat smell. Azlam’s headless body fell to the ground. Jackson realized the smell was from the charred and blackened stump of his neck. He looked at the body grimly. He honestly did not want to be doing this; he did not want to be killing these two.

He didn’t have time for introspection; a giant roar split the air, shaking the very stone. He whipped his head around and saw a massive brown bear standing in the corridor. The monster grizzly took up nearly the whole corridor. His jaw dropped open. It was towering and deadly, eyes blazing with that same uncontrolled temper. The bear’s breath was heavy and strong, pushing dust across the floor, and it smelled like an ancient cave in a forgotten forest.

“Yep. You’re not hallucinating. That’s grizzly. Aren’t druids awesome? Remind me to tell you about the druid I used to know. The things he could turn into, let me tell you.”

“The commentary isn’t helping, Laz,” Jackson growled under his breath.

Lazarus held a hand to his chest, eyes wide.

“Did you just give me a nickname? How wonderful! Oh, you better watch out; I think she’s charging.”

She was, and she was too large for Jackson to dodge. He ripped lightning out of the air and hurled it at the grizzly. It struck her and blackened a patch of fur, but did little else. He cursed, turned tail, and ran. He couldn’t see any other option. He didn’t want to kill her, and his lightning wasn’t doing enough. Lazarus seemed to always be there, which made sense; his spirit moved with the skull.

“She’s gaining on you, I hope you know. I really don’t think you’re going to out-run her, my fledgling. There’s also hunger; it’s going to weaken you a bit.”

He was right. Jackson did feel hungry, almost unbearably so. It had started pulsing within him at the sight of the blood that had exploded out of Azlam’s head. The sight of it had once seemed gross, but now it looked like a good home-cooked meal might. Delicious. He wanted it, and he wanted it badly. That’s another reason he wanted to escape Riselle. At the thought, he felt a massive paw crash into him, nearly crushing him to the ground like one might push a bag of trash into a trashcan. Pain, sharp and not at all sweet, lanced through him.

He slid to the side a bit, but he immediately rolled. It wasn’t enough; he was batted again, claws digging into the skin of his shoulder and shredding it like paper. He cried out, and the grizzly bear that was Riselle roared in his face. His eardrums popped at the sound of it. Her breath was hot, though he found himself grateful that it didn’t smell. He almost laughed at that. Here he was, looking at the bear, hazel-eyed, watching its many gleaming and deadly-looking teeth set into powerful jaws, and he was grateful its breath did not stink.

“I’m sorry, Riselle,” he said it sadly.

As the bear’s jaws descended towards his head, the bear’s hazel eyes blazing with triumph and fury, Jackson slammed lightning into the mouth of the bear with his free and unbroken right arm. The crimson lightning crackled with almost destructive glee, and this time it wasn’t hitting the bear’s fur.

Riselle, in grizzly form, rocked back from him, her roar now a howl of pain. He stood up and walked towards her, and he did not let up. He slammed blood lightning into her head over and over again. The pain that coursed through him fueled his grim determination, and the hunger pulsed right along with it.

You have critically injured Riselle. Riselle’s bear form has faded.

Riselle’s body was shaking; little sparks of crimson lightning danced along her. She was groaning in pain, and she had a scratch on her throat. It was tiny—not much of a scratch at all, really—but the tiny bits of blood were so fascinating to him.

Has blood always looked this good? The little droplets seemed to shine, and they called to him somehow in time with the pulse of hunger that rhythmically beat within him. He did not remember moving towards her, but suddenly he was over her, straddling himself on top of her. Riselle was looking at him, and her eyes were no longer blazing. They were wide, and within them was no longer the swirl of fury but rather the storm of panic and fear.

She tried to struggle, but was simply too weak. He barely noticed it. He had eyes only for her throat and those mesmerizing droplets. He smacked his lips slowly; his mouth was salivating. He just knew that those droplets would get rid of the pain that racked his body. He knew that those droplets would make him whole again. His eyes flicked at the pulse he finally noticed in her neck. Was it healthy for it to be that fast?

Was that whimpering?

“Please, don’t. I’m sorry, what are those? Are those fangs?! Don-”

He wasn’t listening; he had latched on to that pulse, fangs he now understood he had sunk into her soft flesh and into the artery at the side of her neck. Her blood filled his mouth, and it was even better than he had imagined. It wasn’t just the taste of it, though it was the most amazing thing he had ever tasted, but rather the feeling of it—the absolute euphoria of energy that washed through him in a wave of warmth. He felt it when that energy swirled into his Domain, cleansing and strengthening it. He felt his wounds begin to close; his broken arm healed, and the bone itself was better than new. His shredded shoulder, where flaps of bloody skin hung, knitted itself back together. The skin was now healthy again, pale and smooth. The wounds on his back, his knees, and all of the aches and pains that pulsed in his body vanished as that euphoric energy flowed through him like a healing wave.

Riselle’s whimpers eventually ceased.

He received a message from the Judge.

Your blood consumption skill has increased to level 7.

You have consumed all of Riselle’s blood. You have dealt a final death to Riselle.

Congratulations, Jackson! You have advanced to level 17!

That cut through whatever had been happening to him. Riselle’s corpse’s gray face and eyes, which still held the ghost of fear, looked up at him. He looked into those eyes with dawning horror.

What had he done? For the love of everything, what had he done?