Number One finally felt a cautious flare of triumph as the Master’s body tore through the strange spacial rifts, earning several deep gashes for his uncontrolled landing, and crashed down through into the cave systems of the mountain. While the stone dust settled, Number One proceeded more carefully down through the unstable space and shattered rocks and alighted on the ground.

The Master was pushing himself out of a small crater. Dark fluids oozed out of the corner of his mouth and through the deep wounds on his torso. In the corner of the now destroyed cave, some scandalized, minor Disciple watched the suddenly arrived Master and Number One with wide eyes. Number One’s lips twitched and he flicked a finger; the unfortunate witness’s head exploded before he could even understand what was happening.

Better remove any more uncertain elements now.

“You cannot overcome me. I am this place.” The Master’s chest was heaving. The wounds inflicted by Randidly Ghosthound continued to trouble him, making the movement more heaving and sputtering than any sort of productive motion. “Without me, everything will collapse.”

“You overestimate yourself,” Number One said coolly as he walked forward. His steps were unhurried; he couldn’t decide if he should let the Master weaken a bit from his leaking wounds or strike quickly, before he recovered. But more than anything else, he was oddly incensed that the attack he just inflicted was rapidly healing, while Randidly’s endured. His expression hardened, annoyed at these details. “None are my equal.”

“Heh. I can already see your pride curdling in your chest,” Despite his wounds, the Master favored Number One with a sinister smile. “Do you feel invalidated, knowing that it was your invitee, not you, that managed to push me to such a state? Heh, heh, compared to him, you are nothing-”

“Then you are less than nothing. Look at you, collapsed before me.” Number One hissed. He threw caution to the wind and struck. In response, the previously feeble Master twisted and unleashed a spike of pure force. The previous force spikes paled into this massive, obliterating drill. Number One instantly generated a patterned spring, absorbing the offensive blast and rebounding it directly back toward its maker. The Master scuttled sideways, but Number growled in triumph as the force spike blew off the master’s right foot.

Dripping blood, the Master hopped from wall to wall like a leaping spider. His lighting fast movements soon carried him to the passage leading deeper into the mountain, but Number One expertly created a loop of patterns and pulled the Master back into the middle of the cave.

He had many tricks such as these, all designed for this moment.

“Impudence,” The Master howled. His left hand seemed to finally be loosening, but his right started flinging out force spikes without limits. Number One ducked under most, rebounding others to further weaken the volley. It only took him five seconds to cross the distance and stand over the Master once again.

Number One’s lip curled upward as the Master unleashed a huge wave of force. He mobilized the pattern he had spent the last hundred years perfecting. Instantly, all the energy of the attack was funneled away, dispersing harmlessly behind him. The Master had once used it in front of Number One to punish the previous Number One, meaning he had many a night to ponder how to counter it. “It is too late, you old fool. I stand above you- your Path of Spirit belongs to me.”

Number One felt the acknowledgment of the Path as he stood above the paling Master. The old man coughed out a thick mouthful of blood. “You cannot-”

“I can, of course,” Number One felt the connection establishing itself. Power filled his body: he now controlled two Paths in this isolated Zone, the Path of Bone and the Path of Spirit. That gave him a majority control-

No, there is now the Path of Dreams. Number One frowned imperceptibly for a moment. Then he shook his head. Well, it matters not. Somehow the Ghosthound broke the connection to the Path of Dreams, while he controls the Path of Blood. For now, my influence here is the highest.

“Now that I own this space, you, Master, are banished.” Number One felt the connections between the two Paths beginning to activate within him. Then he felt his power stretch downward and grip the very space that the mountain housed. There were some flaws due to the forceful removal of the Path of Blood, but that just made it easier for Number One to control everything. “Travel the Nexus and reflect on your failures. For all the memories we share… forget it, you can leave with your life.”

“You cannot do this,” The Master whispered. His face grew increasingly grey.

“Oh? And how will you stop me?”

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

The Master just looked at him, truly broken. But then the Ghosthound landed nearby and spoke into the silence. “I actually think he’s being literal. I wondered why his power had been weakening for a while, but… you are this world, aren’t you? A broken, flawed world.”

The Master’s expression shifted very quickly, from shock to fear to finally a bitter acceptance. “You… you know too much. But yes. You cannot banish me from me. And if you try to force the issue, this place will collapse. All your work, for nothing! Heheh, Number One, it looks like you are stuck with me. And when you least expect it… I’ll take back everything you’ve ever stolen from me. Bahahaha!”

Number One looked at the Master for several seconds, trying to decide whether he should believe him. His enemy was defeated, but now that he had been informed about the Master’s relationship with this place, he felt that man’s lingering presence in the connections between the Paths. His facial muscles twitched as fury and worry warred with his body. He felt confident about overcoming the Master now, but if this figure was allowed to remain here, lurking-

Number One decisively turned to look at the Ghosthound. “Do you… have any methods to deal with this?”

The Ghosthound grinned at him in response.

*****

Number One left Randidly to his work, seemingly more interested in solidifying his power base in this isolated world than wanting to see how Randidly dealt with the threat. Or perhaps he was preparing contingencies if the two of them needed to fight down the line. Which was just as well for Randidly; he felt somewhat self-conscious by how evil the Unborn looked.

Doing this alone and then leaving quietly would be for the best.

The Master watched Number One go with tired eyes. Then his gaze flicked back to Randidly and his mouth twisted upward. “I assume you want to make a deal?”

Randidly tilted his head to the side, unsure of what he meant. The Master chuckled. “You and I both know that I’m woven into the fabric of this world. There is no way to safely remove me without destabilizing this place further. And after you ripped out the Path of Blood… well. So what do you want? Information? My knowledge? A Path of your own?”

Shaking his bed, Randidly didn’t bother to hide his amusement. “You really misunderstand. I do intend to get rid of you. But I suppose it’s more accurate to say that I’m here to collect a very old debt.”

“A debt?” The Master spat out a mouthful of blood. Some of his former arrogance returned to his features as he leveraged himself up into a sitting position. “Let me assure you, I own nothing to the outside world. I made this isolated space to escape from other entanglements. This is my sanctuary. And, despite how you think this interaction will go, the place from which I will finally escape when I’m ready.”

Randidly didn’t bother to answer. Instead, he gestured and the Unborn finally crept out from his shadow. Their bodies remained sluglike, but their malevolence twisted their features into something even more horrifying than he had been expecting. Their eyes deepened to empty graves as they examined their prey.

Immediately, the Master became alarmed. “You- What! You are connected with that woman? Please, she acted independently- AHHHHH!”

The Unborn pounced forward, biting off thick chunks of his flesh. Unlike with the items, they actually devoured the substance of the Master. Randidly pressed his eyes closed, disturbed by the wet sounds of teeth mashing and bone-crunching. It was perhaps better to say that they weren’t eating the Master himself, but his consciousness; this isolated world was his body.

Influence +191,077!

Congratulations! Your Skill Cursed Fates of the Unborn (M) has grown to Level 385!

Holy shit, Randidly’s expression flickered as significance flowed through the Cursed Fates of the Unborn and entered into his body. A shudder ran through him. His Nether Core rapidly absorbed the newly added significance and churned out thick waves of Nether. At this point, Randidly had gathered so much potency that his Nether seemed alive, like oily tentacles from an undersea monster. The more the Unborn feasted, the more Influence flowed into him.

Influence +75,221!

Eventually, the Master’s screams tapered off, leaving Randidly with only the sounds of the Unborn’s mouths working. He turned away and opened his eyes, surprised to find that the three shades of Devick stood there, watching.

“You know what I hate about this Master and his damned Mountain most of all?” The short-haired Devick asked with a shake of her head.

The long-haired Devick gave Randidly a lopsided grin. Next to her, the first imprinted shade was already beginning to disintegrate and fade. “They always have a justification for the proper method. I can feel these vague platitudes everywhere. True power in the world is related to reacting, or preparation, or creation, or violence, etc.”

The long-haired Devick began to fade as well, until only the Devick who was completely obscured by her hair was left. She crouched in front of the twitching body of the Master while the Unborn finished their meal. Only when the Master had been completely consumed and the Unborn crawled, fat and full, back to Randidly that she raised her head.

“Listen well, Randidly Ghosthound.” From within her crimson hair, Randidly saw two eyes filled with madness. His personality had the foundation of his Nether Core, but even he felt alarmed at the strange sort of temptation to see the seething mass of emotions this woman contained. She was the worst sort of siren, who would happily lead you to your own doom. But it was also undeniable that she possessed immense power. “There is only one true method to power. It’s actually quite simple: win. So long as you keep winning, you will never lose.”