Chapter 183 – Floor 18: Part 8

Mathew rested his head in his hand while he listened to Ridley and his father continue to shout and threaten him. He had to admit that they were pretty creative when it came to threats, even building on each other's suggestions in a new and imaginative way.

Despite the pair being tightly bound by ‘Earthbind’ and oppressed by ‘Righteous Aura of Subjugation,’ neither of them wanted to offer any information about the vial of corrupted Aether that Mathew was holding.

He could only assume that some higher power was allowing them to keep silent about the origins of the vial. Mathew did find an interesting tidbit about something called the ‘Thralls.’ Apparently, they were born and bred to make use of the contents within the syringe. They would transform into monsters but still obey their master’s commands.

Ridley White had just finished detailing what he would do with Mathew’s flayed skin. Apparently, he wanted to fashion some sort of coat and hat combination with it. Hearing enough, Mathew finally stood up from his chair.

“Neither of you go anywhere; I’ll be right back.” Mathew said needlessly, as neither could move until she released them. Passing through the pile of dust that had once been a door, Mathew wandered the hallways until he found what he was looking for.

The spicy scent of Aether.

It didn’t take much further investigating to find a large, metal vault door near the basement of the palace. Similar to the bank vaults of Mathew’s Earth, this one was no doubt made of thick steel, and only the proper combination could let someone open it.

Or the right Word of Power.

“Break.” Mathew commanded, and the vault doors vibrated slightly as the Word of Power altered reality in response to his call. The doors shattered, spilling finely ground shards of metal flakes onto the ground that soon spread across the floor.

Inside was a large room. Stacks of gold bars were in one corner, along with pallets of currency and bins filled with treasures, jewels and other riches. Mathew ignored all of the accumulated wealth and walked to the rear of the vault, where a glass cabinet filled with bright blue vials of liquid Aether was held.

Once his hand touched the handle of the cabinet, his silver wristband began to vibrate, and burning family words appeared in the air to his right.

Item: Liquescent Aether (Contaminated)

Summary: Through the use of an unknown manufacturing process, Crystallized Aether is transformed into a Liquescent state. One vial is equivalent to 10,000 Units of Aether.

Contaminated with a foreign poison.

Reward for finding more information regarding the source or process of refinement: The Word of Power: Burst.

“So not even the Tower is aware of what these things are and what poisoned them.” Mathew muttered as he lowered his arm and hid the burning letters. He had been hoping for an easy answer to the mystery, but it looked like he had an additional task on this Floor.

There were nearly a hundred vials of Aether, each precisely the same. Taking an additional vial, he fitted it into another syringe and placed both in his inventory. Satisfied, Mathew walked out of the vault. Pointing behind him casually, he spoke another Word of Power.

“Burn.”

Having destroyed the Aether and everything in the vault, Mathew returned to Ryker and Ridley with additional questions. The pair were still shouting angrily as he entered the room. Using his Aura, Mathew settled them down enough to ask his next question.

“Where are the Thralls?”

Page Break

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

It turns out that the Thralls weren’t that far from the vault. Passing through a narrow corridor and down several flights of stairs, Mathew reached the ‘Holding Pens.’

He wished he never went there.

The Thralls were shackled in rows with iron bands around their ankles to keep them from roaming far, although Mathew doubted they had the motivation or willpower to move. They were as still as statues, their eyes listless and staring at nothing.

There were dozens of them, men and women with pale skin and shaven heads. They wore rags and were completely silent. The burning words from the wristband appeared unbidden and unwanted as Mathew stared at these pitiful people.

Thralls.

Wretched humanity that are bred as incubators for the poisonous Aether. They will obey the commands of the person they ‘imprint.’

Abused and neglected, they are beyond help.

Mathew felt an anger rise up with him, white-hot intensity that made him tremble. He turned around to look at the fat man, Ryker, who was looking at the crowd of prisoners with pride.

“It really is something, isn’t it? They cost a fortune but are worth every penny. I don’t have to worry about rebellions or uprisings, not with Thralls protecting me. Imprinted on me as soon as the deal was done!” Ryker bragged, unaware of how close Mathew was to killing him for his crimes.

“Where did you get them?” Mathew asked, his voice quiet and tone hard. To anyone who had spent time with him on the other Floors, they would immediately recognize it. It was how he sounded right before the killing started.

“They come from across the Northern Sea. Curious place; they worship some deity with a bizarre name. Depravity or some such.” Ryker replied. The fool was happy enough to talk about his purchase, thinking that Mathew had taken an interest in acquiring them.

“Mischievous Depravity.” Ridley added. He had walked toward one of the Thralls and was poking it in the ribs and face, trying to get a reaction from it. He could have been poking at the wall for all the response he got.

Mathew knew the name; he had heard of that Deity before. It suddenly made sense why he had been sent to this Floor.

‘Ding!’

You have learned valuable information regarding the source of Liquescent Aether (Contaminated).

The gods are pleased by this discovery.

You have been awarded the Word of Power: Burst.

“I guess we’re done here.” Mathew said softly.

He reached into his inventory and pulled out one of the syringes filled with corrupted Aether. Not hesitating, he plunged it into Ryker's neck. Tossing the empty vial aside, he took out the other and walked toward the heedless Ridley.

Once both were infected and writhing on the ground, Mathew watched dispassionately as Father and Son suffered the effects. They had done this to others, and likely worse if upstairs was any indication of their capabilities.

Mathew waited until they began to change, losing their rationality and senses, before he pointed his finger at Ryker’s head.

“Word of Power: Burst.”

Page Break

Lily Bartlett paced around the large hotel room that her family was staying in. It was a penthouse suite on the top floor with three rooms, each with two large beds, one she was sharing with her younger sister.

They were gathered in the living area of the suite, seated on couches as they listened to reports from the radio. It was broadcasting information regarding gunfire and violence at the palace, with people fleeing the scene and detailed accounts of fires and explosions.

She knew that Mathew had reached the palace and was currently ‘convincing’ Ridley White to leave her alone. She just hoped that he was successful.

As she was about to make another loop, there was a knock on the door, followed by a tall man entering. Mathew didn’t look anything like the dashing and clean young man who had suddenly appeared to confront Ridley in her driveway.

He was covered in dirt, soot and blood. His clothing that he had borrowed from her brother had large tears and holes in it, and his limp was worse than she recalled it being.

Mathew looked tired, almost dead on his feet as he walked inside and nearly collapsed onto a couch after giving them a brief ‘hello.’ Leaning back in the soft cushioning, he closed his eyes in contentment.

“Well?” Lily asked expectantly.

“Well, what?” Mathew asked, not opening his eyes. Lily let out a disgruntled huff and nearly stomped her foot before recalling that Mathew was here to help her, and she should be grateful.

But by the gods, was he frustrating!

“How did it go with Ridley White?” Lily’s father interjected gently before Lily could respond. He gave her a warning look before turning his attention back to Mathew.

“He’s dead. Father too. They won’t be a problem anymore.” Mathew said nonchalantly, waving his hand as if to brush aside the issue. Lily’s father turned white at the comment, and his lip trembled.

“Dead? By the gods, they’ll blame us!” Lily’s elder brother said as he stood from the couch and replaced Lily as the resident pacer, his movements quick as if he were a cornered animal.

“No, they won’t. Plenty of people saw it was me, and believe me, they both deserved worse than that.” Mathew said, and Lily heard the anger in his tone.

“Besides, if anyone has a problem with it, they know where to find me.” Mathew finished, and Lily looked at him curiously.

“They will? Where are you going?” Lily asked. Mathew cracked open an eyelid and gave her a small grin.

“Where else? How’s the food here?”

The Bartletts had gained a guest, first in their hotel room and then in their home when the repairs were finally complete. It would be months before Mathew left, and when he did, it was not in the manner he expected.