Chapter 3: The Diabolical Castle, those who made it so
A/N: Alternate Titles: Escape from Tarkov, Ain't Me, The Most Direct Solution is The Best.
With a strange glint present in his eyes, Edrien started to slowly move toward the slightly ajar door he spotted earlier. Keeping to the shadows cast by hanging bodies, and the chains that held them up, he slowly inched his way closer and closer to his goal. The caution he displayed wasn't for nothing, as Edrien knew that if he attracted too much attention from those still alive in the corpse hall, the noise they might make would complicate his already difficult situation.
After a few minutes of deliberately slow movement, being spotted only a couple of times by the few humans still alive, and ignoring their pleas for help with practiced ease, he finally reached the door, the light, shining through the gap between it and the wall, stinging his eyes that had already gotten used to darkness in the hall. Edrien carefully inched his body closer so that he could peak through it, and held his breath to reduce as much noise as possible.
Before his eyes stood a corridor made of stone, several similar doors to the one he crouched next to were placed at various intervals from each other in its walls. Cobwebs, dust, grime, and dried-up blood stains were present on those walls and the ceiling, making the corridor look abandoned, if not for the burning torches illuminating the chilling scene.
Edrien quickly noted that while the layer of dust and dirt coating the weathered stone was quite substantial, there was an exception. A clear path made by someone, or something, traveling through the corridor, where the dust was disturbed, and numerous footprints were visible. Some of those belonged to humans behind him, and some were too big and differently shaped to be made by something even close to the size of an average humanoid.
But those were just the small details, and while important, they held no current use for him. "So no one is guarding the door, that seems suspicious. While abominations born of the spell aren't known for being particularly cunning, at the least those of lower ranks, this clear path to be taken seems too convenient for it to be anything but a trap." Edrien thought, eyeing both ends of the corridor that were shrouded in darkness, where the light from the torches placed on the walls could not reach.
"Well, I got the information I needed, the coast seems to be clear, and now that I know there isn't some monster behind the door, that will come to kill me if I make the slightest noise, I can relax a little bit." A twisted smirk appeared on Edrien's lips, and with one smooth motion, he turned around while closing the door, eliminating the little amount of light that streamed through, leaving the vast hall with hanging corpses shrouded in darkness.
The darkness that only occasionally disturbed by the pale moonlight shining through the narrow windows.
He started walking back to the hanging chains, and their moaning prisoners, his eyes quickly flickering side to side, scanning the floor for any object that could be used as a weapon for more than one time. A bone, color yellow and blotched by crimson blood, that was protruding from the leg of an unfortunate corpse attracted his attention. He crouched, and while trying not to renew the injuries that were present on his body since the beginning of this Nightmare, gripped the bone with both of his hands and started to pull. Edrien heard a sickening squelch, and the bone came loose. Once he had it in his hands, Edrien inspected the bone more closely, committing the weight and length of the bone to his memory. A satisfied smile graced his lips as Edrien beheld the sharp point of the bone where it originally broke and tore through its former owner's skin. Next, he quickly found some rags and tied a sturdy enough rope from them, fixing one end of the bone to it.
With his murder tool in hand and without wasting any more time, his eyes quickly found the nearest alive human. Whimpered moans and streaming tears greeted him as he came closer to her. The poor woman didn't even realize her end was near, not noticing Edrien slowly lifting up his newest weapon and aiming for her. With a practiced motion, born of years of intense training, he threw the weapon, which found its mark accurately. One squelch and a spurt of blood later, the woman's moans quieted down, and her tears stopped falling.
With the rope held in the other hand, Edrien quickly retrieved his weapon, the makeshift bone javelin finding its place in his palm again. Just as he was preparing to continue his murder combo, Edrien heard a voice he recognized.
[You have slain Awakened Annora]
He waited for another message, hoping to gain a memory, but no such message came. Edrien shook his head. "Should have expected that the spell is not that generous. Although considering the sheer number of potential victims in this place, it's only a matter of time before I gain my first memory."
Of course, Edrien was familiar with Memories, Echoes, and even how they can be made. After all, if there is one thing Clan Valor can boast about when compared to the other two Great Clans, it's their consistent capability to produce Memories and even Echoes by human hand. It's just that before becoming a Sleeper, that is, the lowest rank where a human can have access to his soul sea, there simply isn't a way to carry Memories, summon them, or fuel them. It's one of the reasons why the Great Clans value human resources above material ones such as the aforementioned Memories and Echos.
Morgan's voice sounded in his head, old memories coming to the front of his mind. "You can have a divine memory of the seventh rank, but what use is it if you can't even summon it in front of certain death?".
"Words of wisdom to live by." Edrien mused. Memories and Echoes are merely tools, and the human itself is the instrument that plays the sound of death. "But they certainly help deliver that death easier."
With that thought in mind, he started walking the next human. Another whimpering mess suspended by chains ended with a quick throw and tug, the effort required to wield the improvised weapon negligible. Even then it was further minimized by Edrien's experience welding all sorts of weapons, and the effect was compounded by his Attribute [War's Disciple].
Without even waiting for the Spell to voice his achievement, he turned and repeated the action to the bloodied body hung next to his previous victim. Rivulets of blood ran down the recently deceased, some drops of the crimson liquid splashing on Edrien himself.
An idle thought made itself known in his mind, "I'll need to find a way to wash myself, to eliminate the scent of blood if nothing else. Being clean in this Nightmare seems more of a luxury than a necessity anyway."
Even while thinking, his body didn't stop. Walking, throwing, tugging, and catching the weapon didn't require more than a smidge of his attention, the rest of Edrien's mind focused on the ambient noise and currents in the air, listening for the slightest sign of some kind of abomination showing up through the, now closed, door.
[You have Slain Awakened Julien]
[You have Slain.....]
[You have...]
[You have Slain Ascended Ferin]
[You've Received a Memory, Silenced Suffering]
Edrien stopped and was about to bring up his runes, but he thought better of it. "I can always look at it later, first I should complete my current plan. The Memory won't go anywhere, and the less time I spend here, the better." He knew that it was only a matter of time before something showed up and interrupted his peaceful farming, so he sought to gain anything he could and leave this place before it had a chance of happening.
With his mind focused once again, he resumed the easy killings once more, this time not letting stray thoughts or surprising rewards to interrupt the grim task he undertook. The noise of blood dripping from those recently killed soon filled the Hall, giving it an ever more eerie feeling. Only the sound of a bone javelin traveling through the air and finding its targets interrupted it.
A hollow feeling soon started to take root in Edrien's heart. He knew that while he was not a complete sociopath with an unfeeling heart, his multiple lives and the experiences he gained in them distorted his moral compass greatly. Not even mention the monstrous practicality he tried to preserve in his life, the threats and danger he knew he was going to face gave rise to greed for power that was unmatched. Long ago, Edrien surrendered himself to the need to take every scrap of power he could, and while he knew that would give rise to the need to take actions others would consider appealing, Edrien was fine with and knew that he could live with.
Because that is what his goal is. To live. No matter what. Dying twice was already enough for him, thank you very much.
±++++++++±+++++++±
The silence in the hall was suffocating, only the slight sound of dripping blood and viscera dismissed the notion that this place was static in time. Only a single figure stood in between these walls, all others put to rest, whether piled up on the ground or motionlessly hanging in the air, suspended by rusted and dull chains.
Edrien was looking at his last victim, a prepubescent girl of soft features and light hair, now both disturbed by a disgusting mix of blood and dirt. With dull eyes, he looked upon the victim of his greed and practicality. "I could have saved her. I could have saved others too. It would have only taken a little time and ingenuity, and we all could have left this place alive."
But he knew that it was only his wishful thinking and regret at action that couldn't be undone. Yes, he could have saved them from these chains. Or maybe he would have died with them when they would have been found and assailed by whoever placed them here. If they'd gotten lucky and survived the shedding of their shackles, maybe they could've managed to get through the door. And die together in a corridor when they encounter whatever inhabits this castle.
At the end of the day, the escape plan he concocted can only be undergone if he's by himself, not dragged down by half dead and dying mass of panicking people.
"They're not real anyways, after all, the fact that the spell recreates past events as trials for those who try to ascend is a public secret, at least in the Clan where I grew up. Still, looking at my victims, even if they're not real living people, doesn't take away the fact that I murdered them in cold blood." Edrien mused, tilting his head. "But that's alright, I long since made peace with the fact that deep down, I'm not a good person."
With these thoughts, he turned away from the still figure suspended in the air and started to briskly walk to one of the narrow windows he picked earlier.
"Now that I've gotten everything I could from this place, it's time to leave. I just hope that these windows are not made up out of some fantasy glass that's ridiculously hard to break." His footsteps were silent as he arrived at the window, and now that he looked closer, there were faint marks etched in them. "Hmmm, this doesn't seem like something practical, more artistic in nature than an ancient rune enchantment dedicated to security."
He gripped the bone javelin that was used to reap so many lives not long ago, now thickly cakes in blood and somewhat duller than before, and held it up against the glass. A faint scratching noise soon could be heard, as Edrien with steady hands tested the hardness of these glass panes. After a couple of minutes, his eyes rested on the tip of the makeshift weapon, whose tip was now noticeably duller than before. He raised his hands and placed the tips of his fingers upon the places the bone javelin was used to scratch the glass. No grooves or imperfections could be felt by his skin, nor seen by Edrien's naked eye.
A downward lean of his lips was the only indication of his current mood, his eyes still not displaying the slightest hint of disappointment. "As expected, the magical windows of a magical castle can't be damaged by a dormant weapon, no, weaker than that, merely a bone of a human. There is a reason no one bothers to rob the graves of dead Awakened humans, and those of higher ranks. After all, while alive, a person who has succeeded in his trials of Nightmare Spell might be mighty, but upon death, their bodies regress to simple mortals, not any different from a street dog's cadaver. Maybe Saints and higher are an exception to this, but this one didn't belong to one, so there's no point in thinking further about it."
Edrien took a couple of seconds to think and then summoned his Runes. Soon, at least to his perception, in resplendent light, the quantification of current him was displayed.
"I did say that I'll look at these later. Now then, let's see just what my lack of moral compass rewarded me. I just hope that at least one weapon dropped, otherwise I'll be in a bit of a bind." A chuckle almost escaped when he realized the play on words he inadvertently made, the word bind resonating amusingly with the situation he was in a couple of hours before, suspended from the ceiling like all those poor bastards as he was.
**A/N I'm not going to post the entire status screen each time, it's just wasted word count.**
[Memories:
Memory: [Silenced Suffering]
Memory Rank: Ascended
Memory Tier: I
Memory Type: Charm
Memory Description: A drop of blood preserves in time, borne of life ended prematurely, forged by death delivered in apathy. A potent wish is contained in this crimson liquid, a wish to not suffer needlessly. If unleashed, none may guess what would happen.
Enchantments: [Thorned Restoration]
Enchantment Description: [Thorned Restoration]: In return for great pain, you can restore yourself faster.
"A charm, huh? Aren't these the rarest type of Memory? Morgan always said that the forgers of Valor are competent, even if they can't create charms consistently." A raised eyebrow confirmed his surprise at being so lucky. "If I remember correctly of what I've read in the books provided to me, the difficulty of creating them has something to do with the fact that charms are categorized so because of their widespread or whole-encompassing effect."
As Edrien's eyes continued to read the runes, his other eyebrow joined its brother. "A recovery effect? No, it's clearly stated that it's restoration. And while the difference might be minimal, it's still large enough to be taken into account. Recovery is simply put, being brought up to your highest point of health, with whatever benefits you've gained from from the damage you've suffered. A good example is muscle fatigue. There's a reason people say that you "Recover" from it." A quick glance at his state confirmed that thought.
"Restoration, on the other hand, is just being brought back to the original state you were in before taking damage. No benefits to speak of. And the last effect, that is, the resource needed for the charm to work, is the most important of them all. After all, while others would balk at the cost of feeling pain to eliminate the cause of other pain you've been feeling, such qualms have beaten out of me long since." A slight shudder went through his body in remembrance of the harsh lesson he'd been given by the 'best' trainers Morgan was able to order to train him. "It's better that it's something simple such as pain, and not something more important like stamina or other, more conceptual, resource pool."
Edrien immediately summoned the Charm, which manifested as a simple red inkblot upon his skin, on the backside of his left hand, in a white whirlwind of white sparks. A dull throbbing feeling in between his eyes started to be present, but the pain and aches of old lacerations and scabbed-over wounds that were inflicted on this body before Edrien's insertion started to slowly fade.
It took a couple of seconds to get used to the new sensations present in his body. "It won't be hard to just ignore it." Edrien thought, relishing finally being able to stand straight without worsening his wounds.
"Now then, just what are you?"
Memory: [Enduring Promise]
Memory Rank: Awakened
Memory Tier: I
Memory Type: Tool
Memory Description: A promise held in the deepest corner of thy heart, nurtured by the life-giving blood its whole life. An Enduring presence can be felt clearly by those holding this Promise, helping them face the trials of their life.
Enchantments: [Unbroken]
Enchantment Description: This chain is much stronger than it looks.
Edrien's eyes moved quickly, understanding and planning on just how to use this memory already being formed inside his head. "A whip, a rope, a tripwire, or just the good old 'take the legs from beneath them' type of bullshit Sunless got up to in his first and second Trial. When I think about it, didn't he use the same trick on the Awakened Tyrant first, and then on the Centurion second, whatever he may be called?" With a small smirk, Edrien dismissed the runes for this memory, and looked at the last, but not the least one.
Memory: [Resplendent Hands]
Memory Rank: Awakened
Memory Tier: I
Memory Type: Weapon
Memory Description: A great warrior once went on a journey of personal discovery, sadly for him, he couldn't ignore the injustice and suffering prevalent in the farthest reaches of the world. With heart aflame and his fists clenched, he stood defiant of the wicked. Eventually, though, he fell like all those before him.
Enchantments: [Judgment and Punishment]
Enchantment Description: The left Gauntlet delivers enhanced blows. The Right one can muddle the mind of those struck.
"I would've preferred a sword, or a proper armor, but I guess I can't complain. Otherwise, the ghost of whichever body gave me this memory could start to haunt me." As Edrien read the description, a weird feeling rose up inside him.
"A great warrior truly. So great in fact, that the fool got himself killed for the sake of protecting those that are too weak to fight for themselves. Sad, indeed." Edrien released a sigh at the memory description and shook his head. "Couldn't be me, heh."
Another whirlwind of sparks soon enveloped his hands, this time though, instead of revealing a simple red inkblot on his skin, two gauntlets were manifested from his soul sea, even if he couldn't see it yet. The Gauntlets themselves were made of dark luster less metal, just like any metal object he's seen in this place is. Faint, miniscule golden inlays could be seen in the dim moonlight, forming several depictions of past Battles, though any damage the gauntlets might have taken in these supposed battles was absent. The fingers of his hands were fully covered, each protected from harm individually. Menacing claws, slightly curved, tapered to razor sharpness formed the tips of fingers.
"Hmm, just my style. No mitten hands for me." Edrien mused as he turned his hands in various directions, testing the range of motion the gauntlets allowed. "I wonder if I should start a Memory shop just like Sunny did, just catered to form over function. Hell, I could even call it "Fashion Souls"." As amusing as that would be, Edrien knew in the depths of his bones that his life will be way too hectic to have time to create and manage such a shop.
"Although, I could always delegate, and just have Sunny manage the story and make stylish memories while I get all the big bucks. Anyways, these gauntlets seem to fit perfectly, but that's just expected of a memory, as they conform themselves to their user, within certain tolerances, of course." As Edrien idly tried to make a clicking sound with his fingers while wearing the gauntlets, his eyes rested on the window pane he previously failed to leave a scratch on.
Slowly but surely, he rested the tips of his fingers on the glass pane again, only this time not to check for inflicted damage, but to wreak some of his own. As he dragged his fingers down while putting a decent amount of force into it, a sharp screech rang out. The only reason it didn't escape the room was that the present corpses absorbed and dispersed enough of it so that by the time the sound made it to the now closed door, it was weak enough to be completely muffled.
As Edrien lifted his hands, a large smile made it onto his face, and in his dark eyes, reflected to the world, five perfectly cut grooves on the glass were shown.
A/N: Tada! Chapter done. Damn, it took a long time, but so little at the same time. It's weird.
Anyway, I've already added the Villain tag in the book description, but this chapter just solidifies it. Got pretty dark, huh? Next chapter Edrien should be out of the Corpse Hall (yes, that is what I'm calling) and go further on his journey. IDK when the chapter will be out, though, maybe tomorrow, but more likely on the weekend. I have idle games to catch up to, after all.
Chyo, for now.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone