CHAPTER 80: DARKNESS EVERYWHERE?!

The cloud cover was beyond anything Soren had ever seen. That was if he could even call it ‘cloud cover’. In an instant, an endless amount of granite pillars that stretched for as far as his eyes could see were submerged in deep shadows. Nothing escaped the void.

Well shit…

Soren didn’t know what any of this meant. He just had a premonition that something bad was going to happen. And he was right.

In the distance, in between a few sets of memory trees, a large wolf could be seen. A strange halo of fractal geometry was wrapped around its torso, radiating in light. He could tell what it was—a spirit.

Just as the wolf spirit reached the nearest tree to hide under its crown of leaves, tendrils of darkness shot forth from the darkened skies, wrapping around his limbs. Soren watched in horror as the spiritual creature struggled against the tendrils—kicking and rolling, sinking its fangs into the sand bellow for grip, but all its efforts only caused it to get even more entangled with the sinister tendrils. It let out a deafening shriek that caused Soren’s feet to shake before all its strength was finally used up.

Without any further resistance, the beast was dragged away from the shining runic tree into the dark patches of sand.

For the first time, Soren regretted having [Eyes of the Fairy]. He watched in horror as the tendrils sucked the spirit dry of Astral Anima—its limbs slowly disintegrating into piles of dust. This continued for a while until nothing was left. Not even the fractal halo that surely represented its existence within the Beyond—all of it was devoured.

What the actual fuck… Dark thoughts eclipsed his mind. Soren knew for a fact that he was next on the menu, no doubt.

And there was something else he realized in that moment. Since his arrival in this twisted forest, he had wondered what that sand beneath his feet was. Now, he finally had an answer. It was the leftover dust of countless spirits that had fallen victim to the encroaching darkness. A hecatomb of mountainous spirit ashes.

How many spirits had this… thing devoured till now for there to be an entire desert of corpses beneath my feet?!

Soren had no time to consider that question.

He turned his head to the edge of the Dark Forest where he had initially landed. If not even hiding under the ‘shade’ (oh the irony) of the memory trees worked, then his next course of action would be to exit the forest entirely.

Luckily for him, he was fairly close to the edge—he had only landed a few moments ago after all.

Without a hint of hesitation, he dashed forward with all his might, leaving a small cloud of dust in his wake. His plan was fairly simple. Find the nearest set of trees, and dash in between them for momentary cover before continuing the maddening escape.

Soren knew however, it was not going to be that easy.

And he was right.

From the corner of his eyes, Soren spotted countless tendrils chasing after him. Their speed was terrifying.

Shit, shit, shit! Why am I always being chased by tentacles of all things?! Get creative, you shitty world!

In the last moment, he reached one of the memory trees and dashed to the side purely out of instinct, dodging one of the tendrils aiming to wrap around his neck. However, that didn’t stop them at all. The tendril he dodged realigned itself almost instantaneously, shooting past the tree he had just reached toward his torso this time.

Soren ducked then jumped back into the darkness. He cursed his luck—the bastards didn’t even give him time to catch his breath. He had to continue running to the next tree.

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Even so, his intuition was correct. After seeing that dark wolf spirit trying to hide under the memory tree, Soren realized that it must have been a known defence mechanism the creatures here were used to using.

His suicidal sprint turned out to be the right choice—the tendrils were far slower under the light of the memory trees compared to their usual speed in the darkness filling the gaps in between. It was because of this that he was able to dodge the tendrils.

Without wasting the precious chance, Soren continued sprinting toward the next tree; the tendrils behind him wasting no time to chase after their weak prey.

Think, think… These things will definitely catch me eventually!

Even if Soren reached the next tree, he was sure that the tendrils would actually catch him this time, regardless of whether they were slowed or not. This was because the tendrils exhibited not only autonomous movement in accordance with each other, but also some spark of intelligence. He could tell that they were somewhat angered by his arrogant attempt of avoiding them with such a silly trick. They were not going to fall for it again.

Soren knew he had to try something different this time. But what could that be? What else could he do to escape the tendrils?

As his mind flashed with useless thoughts, his feet landed below the radiating light of the memory tree. He had reached it, but the danger wasn’t over.

But at that moment, he noticed something else—a rogue spirit roughly the same size as him. It was a large skeletal horse with dark flames radiating from across its bare spine. Enchanted flames radiating from its eyes and a strange dark halo around its neck that shifted in the usual fractal randomness.

Both spirits had reached for the same tree, seeking its shelter. But Soren wasn’t just a spirit—he was also a human.

An idea flashed in his mind. Without any time to think it over, he dashed toward the horrifying spiritual entity as the sound of the tendrils closing in on him reached his ears. The rogue spirit had also noticed his presence and was about to initiate an attack, but Soren didn’t care.

In the last moment, cornered in between the maw of a skeletal monster and dark tendrils reaching for his body from behind, Soren dropped to the floor and skidded across the sand, right under the skeleton horse’s torso.

Without stopping, he lifted himself clumsily and continued sprinting as his lungs burned with heat. He didn’t need to take a glimpse behind him. He knew for a fact that the tendrils had chosen to discard their prey for the meal before them.

However, Soren knew he couldn’t relax just yet. Picking up his shaky feet, he continued to run to the next tree—this time, not sensing anything chasing after him. He finally landed squarely beneath another circle of light where his body gave in—holding onto the granite pillar for support.

Soren finally glanced back with bated breath. In the distance, he could see the skeleton horse spirit battling against the tendrils. Luckily for him, the spirit looked fairly strong—it was putting up more resistance against the tendrils than the dark wolf he had seen earlier.

Still, he knew that this was nothing more than a pointless struggle. Eventually, the horse was going to lose, and he will become next on the menu once more.

Without a moment to waste, Soren glanced at his Soul Weapon which was busy chronicling with the familiar fountain pen. Ordering it to stop, the pages shifted to what he needed to see most.

Spirit Void Cloud (Corrupted Spirit)

A corrupted being that exhibits the visual features of an endless misty cloud. This entity was once a large coalition of ideas merged together into a spirit that was infected by the Nameless Mist. Its Runic Existence has been transformed, absorbing and mixing with the anima until it became a factor of its own influence. Now, its single aim is to grow larger by absorbing and transforming more astral anima from its surroundings into itself. An ever growing plague of forgetfulness and existential erasure.

Soren’s heart dropped as he read the description.

The Nameless MIst… Again… Is this fate?

Since the day he had arrived on this twisted world called Yarian, this malevolent presence had continued to haunt him, wherever he went. Even now, however, he couldn’t understand what it was, or where it came from. He had assumed that it was something entirely new—a threat not seen before at all, since even Myrin and the mistress were completely unaware of where it had come from.

But now that he was seeing it again in this ancient forest of memories, that whole theory of his had collapsed.

An equally more terrifying thought emerged.

The darkness of the nameless mist—it had always existed as a part of Yarian’s history. But no one that has ever been touched by its presence, had survived to chronicle its existence. And since its properties were that of forgetfulness, not even the Beyond itself could understand its nature…

An ever growing darkness… An abyss that no one could escape from…