Chương 20: -20- Woe

Calder-Still Stone Barrow Each step across the uneven floor echoed painfully in the relative stillness. Calder moved past the nearest of the white stone spires; up close it was like dirty marble, the only thing truly unique being the surprisingly bright glow it gave off that honestly worsened visibility with the depths of the shadows they all cast. His surroundings told a story of desperation. The first metal shack he passed seemed to have been painstakingly pieced together from pieces of broken carts.

Each was hammered as flat as could be managed before being wrenched around other pieces. Inside was a single chair of an equally wretched make. But what stood out was the paintings; on the sides and inside many of the houses in this cluster was a tale of suffering. Figures in matching tan, backs bowed beneath packs filled with ore. The painting depicted a wrathful figure cracking a magical whip from on high with one hand and dropping crumbs of bread with the other. The story continued in the next cluster of homes.

Calder kept his eyes peeled; the sense of malevolence was getting worse with each step, and the Darksteel was still farther in. He quickly dispatched another pair of shambling undead before turning his attention back to the tale immortalized in rough paint. The figures continued under their labor, a pile of dead and ill slowly building off to the side. Until suddenly a glowing figure was lowered from above his uniform matching theirs but his eyes holding a sickly yellow glow.

The painting cut off on the next building where it had been, claw marks and dried gore coated the wall. Calder grimaced raising his sword slightly from here he could see into the center of the pit better and he saw indistinct spirits wandering in the dozens. Aimless, lost even from here they looked like tattered remnants more than the distinct ghosts he was used to seeing. And dotted among the buildings were dark hunks of stone that seemed to devour the pale light cast over them.

There we go, what I came all this way for. I'll eat my damn boot if that isn't Darksteel, but… what happened to them? What happened here? Before he could make it towards the dense cluster of buildings. A ghoul oozed from the building ahead of him, another clambering over the roof.

"Ahh, here we go," he said with grim determination. Dectus nodded, and they rushed forward. Calder kept his attention focused on both of them but made for the ground-level foe. The ghoul reared back and then dropped to all fours, galloping towards him with a wet snarl. Calder swung mid-charge an upward slash that clipped the ghoul's shoulder, ripping it from its path. He didn't slow, running straight over the creature and into the shelter of the building.

Seeing it was barren, he whirled towards the single point they could attack from. The rooftop ghoul clambered unnaturally over the edge and into the top of the doorway, hanging upside down while its companion limped through the door under it. Calder took a deep breath, focusing on the mote of darkness within himself, and cast a hand forward. He tried to recreate the practice he had gotten in the dark, keeping control of it for as long as he could once it was beyond his body.

Tranquility rushed down his arm and leapt from his extended fingers in a small, dense cloud that just filled the doorway. He only held control of it long enough to make sure it washed over the ghouls half a stride away, but it was sufficient. The temperature plummeted. The building groaned at the sudden frost, stonework cracking. The effect on the ghouls was striking; the injured one shrieked as its blood flash froze the other's extremities, locked up, and it fell from its perch straight down onto its companion.

With a smile, Calder swung down in an overhand chop that aimed for the center of the tangled, half-frosted enemies. Slushy blood spattered out as his blow cleaved all the way through to the frosted stone. He pulled the blade free and chopped down again just to be sure. [Grasp of the beyond: 51/100] [Gaze of the beyond 44/100] That worked... needs a lot more oomph to flash freeze a foe at range, probably more than I have to spare right now, but even that was enough to stun a fragile foe.

If I can get a hand on one, I could almost certainly freeze it with tranquility just like that fucking bandit, but that's just a waste. I'd be better off dashing ghouls against the rocks if I have a good grip on it anyway. Dectus loomed behind him, watching the conflict with what almost looked like a pleased expression over the fact that he hadn't had to intervene. Calder didn't waste any more time poking around.

The rest of that story, and the Darksteel he needed was probably in the center of this morass of undead and evil. Cautious light steps took him to the circle of buildings in the center of the pit. Shapes flitted about him. Men and women, spectral forms that didn't seem quite right. Their visages were torn, rotten, or missing pieces, like their very souls were frayed, incomplete. The whispering had intensified. Cries for help, begging even just incoherent sobs. But none of it came from the aimless spectral figures.

No, the whispers came from the malevolent hunks of impossibly black rock spurting from the ground like sharp growths. Thin lines of spectral light seeped from within the darksteel even as it whispered to him. Calder looked around in horror. Each home had a spire of dark steel near it, each with a small group of broken ghosts wandering nearby. He could just see trails of spectral light wafting from them into the Darksteel, like it was both tethering them and consuming them.

In the center of it all the ground sunk inward again. Where a town square or well would have been in a normal village, instead a jagged tunnel tore deeper into the earth, and just in front of it was the largest spire of dark steel Calder had seen yet. Nearly as tall as he was. The hate, the pain seeping from it, was a palpable thing. Both begging for his help and cursing him.

"Holy hells… what..." He looked around for any more murals to explain this evil. But he didn't see anything else painted along the nearby homes. He knew Darksteel grew all along the dungeon, not just there. So he was at a loss for why there was just so fucking much of it here and why it was so pure. He might not be the first adventurer to even find this place. A wiser adventurer, however, probably wouldn't have touched this stuff without a powerful counter to spirits or ghosts.

Calder knew he would release at least something powerful; how powerful, he didn't know mining one of these, but he couldn't let this opportunity pass. The spire in front of him looked worlds more pure and literally oozed potential compared to the scraps he had seen above. Dectus shimmered next to him.

"Dumb but bold... I will slay the minor spirits while you mine, but truly breaking that will release something that will test both of us. When we take it back to be smelted, that will be an even greater battle." Calder reached into his pack and pulled out a pickaxe. Before slowly and cautiously walking to the largest spire. He passed through dozens of streams of spectral light, each tethered to a tattered remnant of one of the prisoners. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

They reached out, to harm or to beg, he couldn't tell. He felt the slightest pressure as they touched him. Not quite material, at least yet. He stopped, pickaxe in hand, looking at the figures all around him. The gaze of the beyond only goes up if I reach in.. if I take more than im offered in return for a soul. This is worth trying.. if im right I shouldn't be at any risk as long as im not a greedy bastard.

Calder reached out and put his hand on the indistinct figure closest to him and let the shepherd of souls flow free from inside him. Golden light glimmered as he attracted the eyes of a divinity or at least a touch of its will. A tear silently simmered in reality next to him, the telltale golden glow beyond spilling free. The ghost's eyes drifted in confusion towards the light, and it stumbled desperately into the light.

Tranquility spilled free around Calder, and he pulled in as much as he could before it dispersed. But something was wrong, that tether of spectral energy leading to the Darksteel hadn't abated and the portal had not closed. Calder looked beyond and saw the soul glimmering, tugging against the tether like a fish on a line.

"Shit…" he needed to get that portal closed. With a shrug he channeled Make Material and brought his sword down on the spectral tether. There was a snap and one of the whispering voices suddenly stilled. The spirit passed into the light, and the tear in reality peacefully closed behind it.

"Hah!" Calder said a bit louder than he meant to.

"That was bold…but I assume you were testing something." Dectus muttered, sword still raised like he expected something to leap out at any moment."

"Yeah... every time something bad has happened, I have been reaching my grubby mitts into the cookie jar instead of taking the scraps that are thrown my way." Calder gestured at the almost dissipated motes of tranquility he was still trying to siphon from the air. [Grasp of the beyond: 68/100] [Gaze of the Beyond 43/100]"Okay, I'll pretend I understood what that meant. What did we learn?" Dectus humored Calder's jovial reaction to his experiment.

"Don't be greedy," Calder said simply and grabbed the next nearest tattered spirit, channeling Shepard of souls with his other hand. A flash of golden light and a swing of his sword later, the dark steel had one less ghost as its captive, and the area swirled lightly with tranquility. Calder continued quickly freeing every ghost he could in his area. By the time he was done, tranquility suffused the area so densley that it was pooling like a thick fog at his feet and his cloak was rigid against his skin.

He put his sword back in its sheath, certain it would shatter at this temperature if he accidentally struck the ground with it. He smiled, looking at the stone mooring the spire of dark steel. It groaned and creaked under the cold cracking as it tried to contract. Dectus's eyes widened, realizing what he was about to do.

"Fine, but be quick while you still have your magic shadows to pull upon." Calder stepped all the way back to the edge of the depression and then sprinted straight at the rocky outcrop. He lunged, dropping his shoulders straight into the top of the darksteel ore. The rock mooring the fragments of ore together and to the ground was still laughably brittle from all the tranquility suffusing the area. The results were… cataclysmic. The stone shattered explosively. Calder simply careened straight through the spire.

A wave of spectral light shot out in a ring a hundred strides wide, lighting the cave in eerie blue light. The moans and whispers that were silent a moment ago came crashing back in a single unified scream of rage as whatever was bound into the stone was released. A half dozen smaller, uneven shapes, a mishmash of limbs and mouths jammed together on roughly humanoid frames, skittered across the floor. Their bodies, a nearly transparent blue, wavered everywhere they touched tranquility.

Calder recovered enough from his impact to point his spotter at the nearest one [Distilled Woe Tier-1] (lvl 14). Doable.. His eyes drew towards where the scattered darksteel was. In the center where the pillar stood, the ring of light that had shot around the rooms suddenly shrunk back into a single point that twisted and warped. Bending and breaking in on itself over and over until suddenly it froze. Calder did as well, unsure what the hell to do.

The distilled souls had all dropped to their knees in supplication, staring at the point of light. He didn't have to wait long; the light trembled. Then solidified and then cracked. As something born free from inside it. One arm at a time, then the head and torso. It held the form of a man if he were formed from shadow and steel. Calder's eyes grew wide as the lash uncurled in its right hand. Almost casually snapping against one of the supplicant abominations, prodding it forward.

It clambered into an uneven sprint straight at Calder. Dectus dashed in front of Calder, meeting the sprinting abomination with a piercing strike mid-step that bore the creature back out of Calder's path. Calder recognized the figure… at least the depictions of him painted across the town walls. He raised a hand and pointed the spotter at what was certain to be the main guardian of this spire. [Source Of Woe Tier-1] (lvl 49) Yep, I might die here. Everything exploded into chaos in a matter of seconds.

The Source unfurled his lash again, and it snapped out almost impossibly fast across the remaining Woe, and as one, the terrified spirits dashed straight for Calder. He set his feet and reached out with his tranquility shaping, pulling the nearest motes closer to him. Calder met them head on as Dectus struck from the rear. Make material active the whole time for Calder. His first blow was a wide sweep accompanied by a backwards step to force the charging figures back.

One didn't stop fast enough, and his blade wrapped in motes of shadow tore straight through it, scattering its spectral energy across the icy ground. At the same time Dectus struck the backline like the god of death himself made manifest. He wove into their midst. A sword piercing one's skull from behind. He stepped and pivoted, turning the motion of ripping the blade free into a downward slash that took the legs off the next foe.

He twirled his sword in his hands and stabbed backwards, piercing straight through another. And just like that, in the initial clash, Calder had slain one. And Dectus had eviscerated three of the guileless monsters. It was good too because the two remaining beasts howled, a sickly sad sound that caused the nearby shadows to lengthen. It battered against Calder from the inside. Dectus wasn't immune either, staggering sideways midswing.

Calder's skull felt like it was an egg being split open; his vision flickered as he tried to step towards the screeching beast. His sword fell unbidden from his hand. And one of his knees gave out. Sadness, a crushing defeat unlike any he had ever felt in his life, rushed into his mind. A lifetime of hopeless loss. Dark, backbreaking labor. His only release, the hope for a scrap of bread and an evening of fitful sleep in a quiet corner. There was no future. There was no escape. The overseer was all. Food. Light.

Life. Calder's anger simmered through the edges of the mental attack. The life that wasn't his own began unravelling under the weight of his fear and anger. Fear that if he fell, his family would die. His people would be reduced to nothing but fuel for Kalderan warmachines. The thought of his grandfather in shackles shattered whatever hold the beast had over him.

The world snapped back into focus and he found himself face to face with the horror its claws plunged into his flesh teeth snapping trying to get through his thick clothes and at his throat. Calders hand weakly waved through the beast passing like a stone through water. His eyes hardened and he tried again. Calders' hands crackled with darkness, and he gripped the abomination by the skull with both hands.

Slowly ripping it free from its purchase on him, he raised it to full arm length, ignoring the pain as it scratched and bit at his hands. He squeezed harder and harder, looking the poor abomination in the eyes the whole time. There was a snapping chime as its immaterial skull shattered under his grasp. The wisps of its remains blew past him over his shoulders, sinking into the tranquility below. He leveled his wrathful eyes towards its sick maker.

Still staring at the source of woe, Calder reached down and picked up his sword. The tranquility around his feet trickled upwards and into him as Calder feasted on the little of the beyond left and made ready.