“Huh!” Ken gasped, eyes wide with disbelief. “Are you mad? How?”

Azrael nodded towards the wolf. “You need its power to survive here,” He replied calmly.

Ken followed his gaze nervously as the wolf collapsed with an earth-shaking boom. “Unless you wish to perish in the ten breaths after I leave?”

It'll kill me instantly! Ken internally panicked.

Sighing impatiently, Azrael grabbed Ken's left shoulder, making him wince. Before Ken could react and without warning, the angel threw him through the air as if the boy was a small pebble.

Ken's arms flailed as he flew helplessly toward the hulking beast, mouth open in a scream. He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for impact.

He slammed into its fur, the impact knocking the breath from his lungs. Yet the soft coat saved his bones from breaking.

Dazed, Ken found himself lying atop the bloodied beast. Each ragged breath lifted Ken's slight form. One tired rear leg jutted out at an unnatural angle.

The creature somehow clung to life, but only tenuously. At any moment, its remaining essence could expire. Ken placed a trembling hand on its thick fur, knowing he had to claim the power within it or face imminent death in this realm.

As he heard its massive heartbeats rapidly decreasing, Ken wondered how the beast was so close to death when its only visible injury was the mouth wound from the Camouphage. Since the boy was certain that the blood coating the wolf's body was mainly its fallen foe's. Then it hit him.

The serpent must have delivered a lethal toxin when it pierced its mouth at the very beginning.

Its soul is still barely tethered to flesh.

Right now, it’s weaker than me.

And I understand its nature.

All three conditions are met.

Ken forgot his fear since he was impressed the proud creature had fought on relentlessly to vanquish its enemy, despite the venom rapidly spreading through its veins. It didn’t want to die pitifully. He then gently placed his other hand on its fur in respect.

Thank you for teaching me this.

“Please give me your gift,” Ken softly implored the dying wolf.

Incredibly, in response to Ken's heartfelt request, the hulking beast rapidly raised its head to the side, as it opened its deep crimson eyes. Its intense gaze bored into Ken's own as if peering into the depths of his soul.

The boy was frozen stiff.

The wolf met Ken's gaze with fading light in its eyes. A moment passed as understanding flowed between them. Its proud spirit had accepted its end, finding solace that its essence would aid this stranger's survival. Then its head collapsed again.

Ken realized then that only a few breaths remained in that proud wolf.

He readied the chain of artifacts with his left hand. And with a trembling right hand, he touched the blood-matted fur and used Rejection to severe soul from the vessel.

Erupting like a flickering fiery mist, the wolf’s soul then burst from the body. Ken quickly grabbed the mist with his right hand by using Possession.

The SpiritShifter then took its last breath. Its heart Stopped.

Holding the wolf’s soul in his hand, a realization surfaced in Ken’s mind. The soul is like a tree, bearing many unique fruits. The more one cultivates it, the more fruits it produces.

Brow furrowed, Ken envisioned the wolf’s soul as a mighty tree before him. He focused on the SpiritShifting power, a fruit among many borne of this noble being then gleamed.

There it is.

Reaching out delicately, Ken's hand closed around the glowing Meta-Object as he used Rejection. Resistance grasped stubbornly for a moment before relinquishing its hold. With the barest tug, it then came free like plucking the ripest fruit.

Don't lose focus.

Sweat rose as Ken brought the extracted Meta-Object to his own soul, absorbing it directly through his right palm by using Possession. Its energy surged into him, eager to take root in a new host.

He then let go of the soul, it instantly vanished to a fate unknown.

Once taken within, Ken wished SpiritShifting to swirl in his right hand. And on his left, he gripped the chain of artifacts ready to receive the plucked Meta-Object.

With a forceful clap, Ken joined his hands. Through the contact, he guided the distressed power smoothly into its new vessel; the key. It struggled briefly before the lock took hold, sealing the plucked Meta-Object safely away.

A soft snap echoed in Ken's mind - fruition of his success. Spent but exhilarated, he slumped back. “Thank you again,” Ken sighed with a wide grin.

The reaping was complete.

“Hey kid,” Azrael called out, raising both his hands up to his chest, with palms facing outward. Ken saw he was holding up all ten fingers splayed wide.

“Use it,” Azrael said, a grin spreading across his face. Slowly and deliberately, he curled his left pinky finger down into his palm. One second later, the ring finger on the same hand flexed closed.

Ken's eyes went wide as realization dawned - Azrael was counting down from ten!

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

At the closing of the third finger on Azrael's left hand, panic gripped Ken. What’s going to happen when the countdown hits zero?

The boy absorbed the chain of artifacts into his left hand once more with Possession.

Frantically, Ken focused his mind, willing his body to shift to spirit form. It was an ability he had never manifested before and wasn’t sure he could fully control. As Azrael's right pinky finger curled down, a flame of information seared through his mind. The Meta-Object granted him knowledge of its essence and nature. His physical body began to take on a wraith-like transparency.

Azrael kept counting, fingers on both hands folding methodically into his palms. Ken focused with all his might to complete the shift before the countdown ended. Sweat beaded on his brow from the effort.

By the time only Azrael's left index finger remained raised, Ken's spirit form was stabilized. He now stood as an intangible ghostly shape above the corpse of the SpiritShifter. And for a second Ken could perceive the astral realm.

Azrael grinned wider, clearly impressed the kid had pulled it off.

With exaggerated slowness, Azrael curled his final finger down into his fist. Ken braced himself.

And when Azrael's countdown hit zero, he pointed to the sky with his right thumb.

Without warning, the air above the forest glade cracked as if space itself was being torn open. A swirling vortex of darkness suddenly appeared, rapidly descending toward the ground. Lifting his head in shock, Ken gazed upward as a nightmarish cacophony of insane grinding and tearing filled the air.

Swarming like a plague of locusts, the Gravskimmers were a terrifying sight to behold. Those ravenous piranha-like creatures were each no larger than a flea, yet each Gravskimmers’ body was composed of exotic metamaterials, granting them mastery over gravity and space-time. Enveloping themselves in localized warp bubbles, they could completely phase their bodies into higher dimensional space, flickering in and out of sight. That also gifted them otherworldly speed and mobility.

Ken screamed and threw up his arms trying futilely to shield himself as the Gravskimmers descended upon the glade in a cyclone of scythed mandibles and flickering trans-dimensional bodies.

The swarm obscured him as he braced himself, but instead of ripping his flesh, the tiny horrors passed right through his spectral form. They struck as one, maws finding purchase on everything but him. They had no need for something they could not consume, so they did not lock onto him, they were just passing through to get to their prey.

Suddenly unimaginable pain lanced through Ken’s mind. He cried out as the Gravskimmers' jaws found purchase in his spectral form during microsecond moments of passing through. Though no blood spilled, no skin licked, no flesh ripped, he felt razor incisions of hurt slicing through skin, muscle, and organs.

Ken thrashed in blinding agony, subjected to endless phantom gnashing jaws brought waves of phantom torment to his mind. He desperately tried to focus through the pain, knowing any slip in concentration could turn him corporeal for an instant—long enough for the Gravskimmers to reduce him to shreds as they were doing to the remains of the Camouphage and SpiritShifter on the ground.

Not a drop of blood went to waste, each dread gorging on the lush feast. Flesh, bone, plants, water, and trees were shredded and consumed in seconds under the relentless reaping.

Azrael stood unfazed, protected by the invisible shield he had enacted around himself and the other man. While the Gravskimmers had descended into a feeding frenzy on the glade, they had not been able to penetrate the angel's ethereal defenses and bounced back each time they touched it.

In a nightmare blur of sensation, Ken felt himself driven into the soil by the relentless swarm. The Gravskimmers burrowed around him, shredding through bedrock and tree roots, excavating the ground in a display of insatiable gluttony with an unsettled rumble. Though not a drop of his blood spilled, Ken felt each cell in his body being sliced countless times by their jaws.

Body wracked by phantom agony Ken lay gasping at the bottom of a shallow ditch carved by the swarm. He stared upward at the receding death. Perhaps their hunger momentarily sated, the swarm spiraled back into a singular writhing mass in the sky.

The Gravskimmers had fed on matter, energy, and flesh. But even they could not feast upon a soul.

The unsettling screams and ominous flashes resumed as they phased completely out of reality.

Within a second, the horrific swarm had vanished.

All that remained in the once ravaged glade, now turned to completely bleak ground, was Ken, Azrael, and Ken's would-be killer.

As the lingering pain began subsiding, Ken willed himself to become corporeal again. He stood up from the shallow pit and saw Azrael walking toward him, laughing and clapping his hands together.

“Well done, kid! You've got the gift, no doubt about it,” Azrael chuckled.

Ken just glared back, his panic transforming into annoyance now that the perceived threat had passed. Yet he couldn't fault Azrael's methods. If creatures more terrifying than the Gravskimmers roamed the Underground, Ken had to adapt fast to survive. Right then he was glad that Azrael's countdown had forced him to rapidly master SpiritShifting.

He’s right. If this place contains even deadlier threats lurking in the shadows, then I needed to master my abilities fast and adapt to the environment faster. And his way was the fastest. Ken was persuaded that Azrael's trial-by-fire approach, as harsh as it seemed, was the right way to prepare him for the unimaginable threats that lay ahead.

I’ll make sure to repay him for this.

“Pay me now,” Azrael requested, grinning.

Ken began walking towards Azrael.

“What do you want?” Ken said, shifting his glare into a grin mid-stride.

As Azrael approached, he pointed with his left thumb over his shoulder. “I've got an appointment with a nasty customer,” He stated right before they met. “Give me a hand, will ya!”

Ken understood the angel's hint. Without breaking stride, he went past Azrael, leaving the angel behind. Azrael glimpsed the boy pass by from the corner of his eye but did not look back.

Ken continued walking as he instantly willed material the chain back in his hand. Now focused on the man waiting behind Azrael. Gripping his chain tightly, Ken picked up speed, ready to carry out his intentions.

Time unfroze for the target in his mid-charge position. Oblivious, the man stabbed at the empty ground where Ken had laid moments before. His shank fell from his grasp, as he bowed, Ken swiftly approached from behind and circled the chain around his neck as he hopped on his back.

Confused, screaming, the man thrashed violently in a fit of rage, trying to break free, trying to grab what was behind him, but Ken held tight, cinching the knot. The man wasn't as frightening as before – Certainly, he’s bigger, but right now he seems thin, and prickly, with a fragile neck. Soon the man collapsed face down as Ken pulled the chain firm until he heard a snap.

Suddenly a twin of the man who lay on the ground appeared, standing before them. Ken watched warily as this new figure leaned down close, and reached toward the corpse's head with his left hand. In one swift motion, the twin pulled forth the target's tainted soul.

“I see you shaking. Don't worry, dying is easy.” The twin said.

Ken's eyes widened as the soul flickered once and then was absorbed into the twin.

Ken released his grip in bewilderment and looked at where the angel had been. Azrael stood where Ken had left him, and did not move an inch from where he was. And having collected the target's soul, the twin vanished.

Azrael smiled as he looked at the boy, then presented his back to Ken. “A word of advice, those nine are an interesting bunch,” Azrael stated, after which he began walking ahead. Shadows morphed around his body that quickly dissipated, changing his elegant black suit to a long coat black uniform ordained with belts and black colored and intricate crafted trinkets. “But they’re also extremely cunning, so don’t cower. And don’t think you can get out of this deal. If you try, and break your word, nothing will stand between you and hell.”

“Hein!” Ken snapped back from his bewilderment. He realized that Azrael was leaving.

“Ah! And before I forget,” Azrael said. “Beware the oldest one. A nasty fella that one.” He shook his head mid-walk.

“Wait!” Ken called out. “What if I die before collecting all nine?”

Ken’s inquiry fell on deaf ears. Azrael gave no response.

Ten steps in, shrouding darkness swallowed the Angel of Death. In a blink, Azrael was simply gone, vanished into the shadows without a trace.

The Angel of Death had left his riddled-with-questions bounty hunter behind.