Chapter 16: Slave to Hunger

Beron leaned against the cavern wall, his bright, shining armor reflecting the faint light. His red hair was tousled, and his normally confident expression was softened, almost contemplative. Jora sat beside him, her back against the wall, legs stretched out in front of her. Her rough exterior seemed to melt away as she spoke quietly, her voice carrying a warmth that was rarely heard.

"Do you remember that time we took on that job in Cragmar?" Beron asked, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Jora snorted softly, her eyes closing as she leaned her head back against the cold stone. "Which one? The one with the bandits or the one with the haunted forest?"

"The bandits," Beron clarified, chuckling. "You were so mad at me for jumping in without a plan."

"You mean without *our* plan," Jora corrected him, though her tone was light. "You always had a plan, Beron, but it usually involved you doing something reckless and hoping the rest of us could keep up."

Beron laughed, the sound echoing faintly in the cavern. "Yeah, well, it worked out in the end, didn't it?"

Jora opened her eyes and turned her head to look at him. "It always did. You had a way of making things work out, even when they shouldn't have. I never understood how you could be so damn confident all the time."

Beron's smile faltered slightly, and he glanced down at the ground. "It's not confidence, Jora. Not really. It's... faith, I guess. Faith in the team. In you, in Fael, in Tain. You all make me look good."

Jora's expression softened, and she reached over, lightly punching him on the arm. "Don't sell yourself short, Beron. You're a damn good leader. You care about us, and that counts for a lot."

He looked up at her, his green eyes meeting her gaze. "I care about you, Jora. You've always been like a sister to me."

Jora blinked, surprised by the sudden sincerity in his voice. She wasn't used to Beron being this open, this vulnerable. It touched something deep within her, a place she usually kept hidden behind her tough exterior.

"You too, Beron," she said quietly. "You're like my brother. And even though you drive me crazy sometimes, I wouldn't trade you for anything."

For a moment, there was silence between them, a comfortable, shared understanding. They had been through so much together, faced danger side by side, and it had forged a bond that went beyond friendship.

"You know," Beron said after a while, his tone lighter, "I was thinking, when all this is over, maybe we should take a break. Just for a little while. Go somewhere quiet, away from all this craziness. What do you think?"

Jora looked at him, her eyes searching his face. There was a weariness in him that she hadn't noticed before, a tiredness that spoke of too many battles, too many close calls. It was a feeling she understood all too well.

"Yeah," she replied, a small smile forming on her lips. "Yeah, that sounds good, Beron. Maybe a little peace and quiet would do us all some good."

Beron grinned, the familiar spark returning to his eyes. "Then it's a plan. Once we get through this, we'll take that break. Just you, me, Fael, and Tain. Somewhere with no monsters, no quests, just... peace."

Jora nodded, and for a brief moment, the future seemed bright, full of possibilities. But then, reality came crashing back as the sounds of movement in the cavern reminded them of where they were and what they were facing.

"Right," Beron said, pushing off the wall and straightening up. "Let's finish this, Jora. For the team."

"For the team," Jora echoed, standing up beside him. She gave him a firm nod, the steel returning to her gaze.

Cal returned to the cavern with a new sense of purpose, his mind still echoing with the soft, alluring whispers of Mistress. As his vision cleared and the cavern's darkness gave way to the faint glow of the giant insectoid corpses, Cal’s eyes locked onto his objective: the cores.

The chain binding him to the group was taut, but Cal ignored it for now. He moved swiftly to the closest insectoid body, its exoskeleton cracked and broken from the earlier battle. The creature’s massive form lay still, a gruesome reminder of the fierce fight that had taken place.

Cal knelt beside the carcass, his fingers digging into the flesh as he searched for the core. His heart raced with anticipation, the words of Mistress fueling his determination. When his hand finally grasped the core, a thrill shot through him. The core was warm, pulsating with residual energy. Without hesitation, he brought it to his mouth, biting down hard.

The moment the core shattered in his mouth, a surge of power flooded his veins. Essence poured into him, revitalizing his senses and sharpening his thoughts. The rush was intoxicating, far more potent than the first time. The red crystal within his core space pulsed in response, absorbing the energy greedily.

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He moved on to the next corpse, driven by a hunger he couldn’t fully comprehend. The chain clinked with each step, a constant reminder of his tether to the group. Cal’s focus was singular—he had to consume more, to take what he needed to grow stronger. As he dug into the second insectoid, the same exhilaration filled him when he retrieved its core. He devoured it quickly, feeling the familiar rush of essence. Then he ate another, and another, and another.

Suddenly, a sharp voice cut through the cavern. “What the hell are you doing?!” Tain’s voice echoed, filled with a mixture of fear and anger. Cal paused, the core still in his mouth, as he turned to face the group. Tain’s face was pale, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Stop! You’re—you're feeding on them?!”

Beron and Fael looked up from their positions, confusion, and concern etched on their faces. Beron’s hand moved instinctively to his rapier, while Fael’s gaze narrowed, assessing the situation.

Cal swallowed the core, the essence flooding into him. His eyes, glowing with a new intensity, locked onto Tain. “I’m doing what I need to survive,” he replied, his voice low and menacing. The words were firm, as if there was no room for argument.

Tain took a step back, his hands trembling. “This—this isn’t right! You’re not like us, you’re... you’re something else.” His voice faltered, the fear evident.

Cal felt the chain binding him tighten, as if reminding him of his place. But the essence within him boiled with defiance. He wouldn’t be held back—not now, not ever. With a burst of strength, he grabbed the chain and pulled, the metal links groaning under the strain.

“You don’t understand,” Cal growled, his voice echoing with the remnants of Mistress’s influence. The chain snapped, metal shards flying as he broke free. The sensation was liberating, the weight of the chain replaced by a surge of newfound freedom.

He didn’t wait for the group’s reaction. His eyes were already fixed on the largest remaining insectoid. Cal rushed towards it, his body moving faster than ever before. The broken chain trailed behind him, a symbol of his severed ties to the group.

As he reached the huge corpse, he wasted no time. His hands tore into the insectoid’s body, searching for the core. The others shouted after him, their voices a mixture of panic and anger, but Cal was beyond reason.

When he finally found the last core, it was larger than the others, throbbing with a deep, dark energy. Cal hesitated for just a moment, sensing the immense power contained within. Then, with a resolve fueled by the whispers of Mistress, he bit into the core, shattering it with a single motion.

The essence exploded within him, overwhelming his senses with a raw, unfiltered power. Cal’s body convulsed as the energy surged through him, his muscles tightening and his mind-expanding. The red crystal in his core space pulsed violently, absorbing every drop of essence until it radiated with a brilliant light.

Cal fell to his knees, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he struggled to contain the power. His vision blurred, the cavern spinning around him. But even as his body trembled, a sense of satisfaction filled him. He had taken what he needed, and now, he was stronger than ever.

Then the monster's soul hit him.

It was overwhelming—stronger, more potent than anything he had consumed before. Memories flooded his mind, foreign and primal. He could see the creature using its essence to attack from a distance, sending out waves that struck down prey before it even got close. The sensation was visceral, the way the monster had channeled its essence into a burst of pure force, invisible yet devastating.

The knowledge seeped into him, and as he absorbed the memories, a new ability began to form within him. He could feel it, a potential that hadn't been there before. The essence twisted and coiled, forming a rune within his core space, glowing with a faint, pulsating light.

"Essence Burst," he whispered, the name coming to him as if the knowledge had always been there, waiting to be unlocked.

He understood it now. This was more than just raw power; it was a tool, a weapon. He could send out a wave of essence, an invisible force that could knock back or even kill those in its path. It would require a significant amount of essence, but the potential was undeniable. He could use it to clear away obstacles, dust, smoke, even deflect projectiles in mid-air.

But to truly master it, he needed to crush and strip the monster’s soul. The soul was still within him, writhing, fighting against the inevitable. Cal closed his eyes, focusing inward, and began to crush it, breaking it down piece by piece. The resistance was intense, the soul lashing out, trying to escape, but Cal was relentless. He could feel the power surging through him, filling every part of his being.

As he crushed the last remnants of the soul, the rune in his core space flared brightly, solidifying into something permanent. The knowledge was his now, the ability ready to be unleashed whenever he needed it.

Cal exhaled, the cavern slowly coming back into focus. He could feel the strength coursing through him, the new ability humming just beneath the surface. He was ready.

The group stood frozen, watching in stunned silence as Cal slowly rose to his feet. His eyes burned with an unnatural light, his body thrumming with power. The essence had transformed him, pushing him beyond the limits of humanity.

Cal looked at the group, his expression unreadable. He had crossed a line, one that couldn’t be undone. But as he stood there, he knew one thing for certain—he was no longer bound by the chains of his past. He was something more, something powerful, and nothing would stand in his way.

Beron tightened the grip on his rapier as the group huddled together, sensing the shift in the air. The tension was thick, and it wasn't just the fear of the unknown that hung over them; it was the awareness of something darker, something they couldn't quite place. Tain, nervous but determined, shot a glance at Fael, who was busy tracing her fingers over the tattoos that lined her arms, whispering incantations under her breath. The tattoos glowed faintly, the light pulsing in rhythm with her words.

"Jora, are you ready?" Beron asked, his voice steady but with an undercurrent of concern.

"Always," Jora replied, cracking her knuckles and adjusting the grip on her sword. She wasn't one for hesitation, and it showed in the way she carried herself—strong, resilient, and unyielding. "Whatever that thing is, it won’t know what hit it."

Tain swallowed hard, his fingers trembling slightly as he drew his knives. "Are we sure this is the right move? I mean, he’s—"

"He's not one of us," Fael cut in, her voice sharp but not unkind. She didn't break her focus from the incantation, the tattoos now glowing brighter. "We can't afford to take any chances."

Beron nodded, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the area. "Fael’s right. We have to treat him as a threat until proven otherwise. We don’t know what he’s capable of, but we’ve seen enough to know he’s dangerous."

Jora stepped forward, placing a reassuring hand on Tain’s shoulder. "We stick together. No matter what happens, we’ll face it as a team. Just like we always have."

Tain took a deep breath, nodding. "Yeah, as a team."

The air grew colder, the faint echoes of Cal's earlier movements now replaced with an eerie silence. Fael’s tattoos blazed with a fierce light, the energy from her spells crackling around her. Beron stepped ahead of the group, his posture poised for attack, while Jora flanked him, her eyes locked on the darkness ahead.

"Whatever comes next," Beron said quietly, "we face it together. No turning back."

The group took their positions, their weapons ready, their hearts steeled for whatever was to come. The fight hadn’t begun yet, but they could feel it—an impending clash, a battle that would test their strength, resolve, and perhaps their very lives.

As the group stood ready, tense and focused, a low, guttural growl echoed from the shadows. Cal’s voice, rough and tinged with a sinister amusement, cut through the air, sending a shiver down their spines.

“Good luck.”

He stepped into the dim light, a twisted smile curling his lips, his eyes gleaming with a predatory glint. The weight of his presence pressed down on them, and they could feel the raw power radiating from him, the kind that spoke of something no longer entirely human.

Beron’s grip tightened on his rapier, his knuckles turning white as he met Cal’s gaze. Fael’s tattoos flared even brighter, her incantations becoming a steady hum in the background. Tain’s heart raced, but he forced himself to remain steady, remembering Jora’s words.

Jora’s eyes narrowed, the edge of her sword catching the light as she prepared for the inevitable clash. “We don’t need luck,” she muttered under her breath, though a hint of doubt crept into her voice.

The tension in the cavern reached its peak, the space between them shrinking with each passing second. Cal’s smile widened, his growl lingering in the air, a promise of the chaos to come.