20 — Misting Valleys

“The difference between an Undead and a living soul is that the living have the capacity to learn, to change. The undead don’t. Everything they learn is relearnt and every change is one that their soul had potential for in life.

Undead are to be pitied. They are creatures perpetually stuck in the past, reaching for the heights they achieved in life. And most pitiful of all is that they will never reach them. No mortal soul remains intact when torn from its home, and these undead, they know it. But they will never understand its significance. That feeling—the sense that something so integral to their being has been lost– chains them. They will never be unshackled from these chains. And yet, they will always strive for more. 

I bring them rest, Alex, because it is a mercy.”

• Laura Garcia, Vermillion Priestess.

***

The ghoul clutched the gap in its throat where black, greasy blood spilled. Its eyes went wide, its tongue flitted and snaked into its wound to plug the flow, and beneath decaying skin it bulged and writhed like an errant vein. Then the creature keeled over. It hadn’t died so much as life had simply left it, because the wound had cut deeper than the purely physical. 

No, not cut--

[Sever]

Nythca followed the momentum in an arc, slicing thick mists as Alex whirred into a guard against his next opponent. The action was swift, merciless, and wasted no time as the ghoul’s soul disseminated. Precious seconds were a scant currency when faced with multiple opponents. 

But perhaps ghouls might be an exception to the rule.

Alex didn’t know what creatures they resembled in life, only that he didn’t want to know. And as those green tinted eyes in the fog swerved onto their fallen comrade, as his foes paused in their pursuit of him to tear it limb for limb, teeth gnashing and scraping flesh from bone, Alex took their gift in good graces and turned. 

He ran deeper into the forest. He slid within thickets of forest trees, their trunks thick with rotten bark. Groans and screams of elation reached him even there, and finally he stopped. He pivoted his back foot and dropped into a middle guard, the top of his curved blade jutting up and out. The hem of his cloak flapped behind him.

[Midnight Cloak]

Woven from the silk of  Night Worms, this cloak enhances Stealth effects.

Cost: 8,000 Essence Crystals

Those distant groans grew more guttural by the second, and less distant. But even under the midday sun the misting valleys concealed all, and Alex knew they wouldn’t find him before he found them. So they were not where his attention lied. Instead, he frowned down at his sword, a new voice speaking to him. Not from within nor from without, the distinction no longer applicable. The voice was his, and he listened to it, adjusting his stance. 

He slid his left foot forward, his right foot back, and extended his sword arm away from his body in a stance opposite of how he would’ve wielded his old arming sword. Nythca gave a low hum, which rose to a fever pitch, reverberating in his skull as a sharp sense of rightness settled in. 

You have achieved greater [Weapon Mastery] with Nythca.

Having corrected his guard, Alex brought his left hand up and curled it around the pommel beneath his right in a dual grip. The curvature of his edge now fell vertically in face of his approaching foes.

[Armored Gauntlets]

A pair of gauntlets lined with leather for a tighter grip, plated with steel scales.

Cost: 5,000 Essence Crystals

In the back of Alex’s mind, experience warned him of the dangers of so extended a guard. It would give him a faster reaction, sure, but his limbs were too exposed. Against creatures so spry and lithe as ghouls, with razor tongues and that could wreathe tight his appendages as easily as they could tear them free, it was dangerous to keep anything out.

But it didn’t matter. Alex was no longer the weak blacksmith he had been, but a [Stone Dancer], and his class shone his way. 

A ribbon of light appeared the instant the ghoul did. It was a river that flowed between mental and physical realms, a passage to exact his will on reality. He brought his blade down, following its twisting path and Nythca–his partner in dance, his creation, his protector–caught the ghoul’s clawed fingers on her blunted backside. 

Alex stepped in. The ghoul’s two-handed lunge glanced harmlessly down her curvature.

It opened its maw, then, shooting its tongue out. But it was over-extended. And as it did, Alex caught the tongue in his right hand. In his left, he reversed Nythca’s blade, their foe once more in her edge’s sight. Gleefully, she lopped off its head. It did not matter to her; human, beast, goblin, or however twisted the deformity. The undead were a scourge of which all life must be cleansed, and with her new trait it was as swift and cleanly a process as ever. 

The Ghoul’s blood hardly spattered the face of her blade as it died.

Before fighting with Nythca, Alex had never had experience with Persian swordplay, but his [Weapon Mastery] had slowly been correcting that. Already, his style had begun to evolve. With so long a curved blade, once you commit to a blow, you immediately need to pivot out of it. Avoid linear swordplay, never linger too long. And so Alex did just that; refusing to stop, as neither did that ribbon of light.

It appeared in front of him again and his sword came up and over his head as he twisted around in dance. 

The tongue of the other ghoul jutted out just as Alex’s dangersense told him it would and he snapped his head sideways to dodge. Its cut drew red across his cheekbone, a narrow encounter but for the fact Alex knew it would be. 

He ignored the strike and slid his sword adjacent to the tongue’s path. The ghoul, muscles tensed and coiled from its strike, could do nothing but watch. It was no longer a threat by this point but lamb on the platter. So this time, Alex was going to test something new.

Lylith’s Bond—the phenomena where a weapon’s trait synergized with a user’s skill beyond what should be possible—was a rare and mysterious enigma. Knowledge on the subject had never been for Alex’s purview, but all he’d heard had indicated its triggers being unpredictable and illogical. Yet somehow, whether it was because he’d soul bonded to his weapon, because of his bloodline, or due to any number of factors, Alex thought he might’ve found a way to replicate it.

Until now, he hadn’t even had the opportunity to try. 

It couldn’t be understated just how taxing it could be to juggle the intricate footwork of [Feather Foot] and to monitor so many enemies all at once. And since his sword only seemed to wake amidst the heat of battle, it wasn’t something he could safely practice on his own. The enemies he’d faced these last many days had all been deadly in their own right, and only now, with his weapon mastery so far developed, had the opportunity finally presented itself. 

Alex looked inward. And when that ribbon of light didn’t disappear from his mind’s eye, he knew he’d chosen his moment well. Beneath his flesh, beneath his psyche even, was a blazing sun. So hot was its burn that it was too bright to look at directly. But beneath that—where Alex was only just learning to look—was something just as grand. 

The shadow his sun cast.

[Sever]

A vibration coursed through him, with a pitch as fevered as that sun itself, and in perfect union with Nythca, he cut through the Ghoul. The world shivered, and when it stilled Alex returned his sight outward. Almost, he’d expected to see the ghoul split down the middle on delay as if theatrically affected. 

It was with some shock that he registered that it had not been wounded at all. Not a splash of blood speckled the unholy thing as the green in its eyes turned to whites. Nor was there a single mar on its skin as it collapsed. But his confusion only lasted the second it took for him to look at his blade. 

It had been so alike to a limb right then that it was hard to remember what she really was. Nythca was no ordinary blade, but a sword possessed by a guardian spirit. Her purple-black sheen had an otherworldly sense to it, and for just that moment it wasn’t only in Alex’s mind. Nythca had become ethereal. She had left the physical realm behind and entered the spiritual.

And she had passed straight through the ghoul as if it didn’t exist.

A small fire drifted then from the ghoul’s corpse, dull and gray with green flickering around its edges. It floated in the air meanderingly until it hovered just above Alex’s open palm.

[Soul Fragment]

The Fragmented remnant of a Ghoul’s soul

Alex frowned. He’d expected his attack to do something, but this? What was he supposed to do with a ghoul’s soul?

Well, the truth was he had a few ideas, but none that seemed entirely accessible to him currently. And first of all, he needed a way to properly store it. It wasn’t as though he could just stuff it into his back pocket. Was it even tangible enough to store in his inventory?

Alex tried to close his hand around that flame, but sure enough it extinguished. It died out, disseminating into a million different particles and fleeing god only knew where. Perhaps he might know if he ever died again. 

He sighed his cursory sigh, and knelt, going down to one knee, examining the body. It had turned to ash faster than its companions had, leaving behind only a dull, lifeless core, its ivory tusks, and its surprisingly fleshen and pink razored tongue. Alex put them into his inventory.

Quest Complete!

Quest: [Slay Three Ghouls]

Ghouls haunt the passages of the Misting Valleys. Slay three of them, and make the mountains once more safe for travelers.

You have been rewarded 3,000 Essence Crystals!

“Well done, Nythca,” Alex said. Though he received no answer. 

Once more, the blade had fallen into slumber, into the depths of his soul where she would only rise when Alex’s sun burned its hottest. Strangely, he could feel the presence of her guardian spirit, the man who had once been the Second Scenario’s boss, Lionheart. But if the spirit  felt anything at Alex’s praise, that too escaped his senses. 

Really, Alex wasn’t actually certain if it was truly him that was here, or a mere fragment of the man’s soul; like what he’d just severed from the ghoul. An aimless, watchful specter.

Quest has been upgraded to Blue-Grade!

Quest: [Slay Fifteen Ghouls]

Ghouls haunt the passages of the Misting Valleys. Slay fifteen of them, and make the mountains once more safe for travelers.

Reward: 9,000 Essence Crystals

Huh, they didn’t even change the description for this one.

Achievement Unlocked! [Natural-born Adventurer]

You have Completed Three Green-Grade Quests!

+1,000 Essence Crystals

Alex slid the notification away, musing on that. The other quests he’d chosen almost seemed to have a sort of plot to them. Like when he’d found the missing caravan two days earlier—their peoples all turned to undead enemies, naturally—their last words had been read like a script about some beast in the mountains that had ambushed them. And now his next job was to go track it down and kill it, if he could be bothered. 

But he supposed head hunting was as straightforward as things got. There was no need to complicate the plot so much when almost all of these quests boiled down to finding enemies and killing them.

Or them finding you.

Distantly, Alex heard the wails of wraiths and he touched the wound on his cheek. You always heard them before you saw them. They infested the mists like rats and were drawn and driven mad by the scent of living blood. 

His hand came away from his cheek and there was more blood there than he’d expected. On closer inspection it seemed to be coming from his hand instead.

It was the tongue, he realized. Only the outer shell of his grieves were armored, and when he’d snatched the ghoul’s tongue, its razor edges had sliced his fingers. The leather there was slit and ruptured, he would have to fix that.

Another thing bothering Alex, which he felt more than heard, were the lost souls that lingered in the mists. The lingering presence that gave the Soul Mists their namesake. They often fled when the fighting reached its peak, as if fearful for some life that they might lose, but they were perpetually lost here and would always be back. 

Already, he felt them tug and prod at his mind. He had better control over his emotions and thoughts than most people, but he was also more sensitive to their lingering wills thanks to his trait and the sensation was not pleasant.

Standing, Alex glanced mournfully in the direction of the first ghoul he’d killed. He might be able to loot it in time, but he knew from dirty experience that once the wraiths found you, they never stopped coming. And that aside, he didn’t wish to be here amongst the lost souls much longer. 

Instead he stood, sheathing his sword into Lionheart’s old scabbard without acknowledging the irony, and made his way back onto the Path of Buried Ghosts.

[Enchanted Scabbard (Common, E Grade)]

Carved from aged oak and enchanted to fit any sword. Designed to contain and conceal aura.

After a short hike down the mountain, Alex came to the wall that separated the mists from his path. Stepping through was like stepping into another world, not dissimilar to passing through a cavernous waterfall and seeing the beauty of nature once more. 

Frankly, there was not a lot of beauty to behold here. It was all dried grass and shrubbery as dead as the trees were, but at least it wasn’t the mists. The air was more breathable here, more dry too for that matter, and without the thick feeling of condensation on his skin. Most of all, within the narrow corridor that was his path—a dozen feet about between both walls of mist—the sky was clear and he could see the sun.

He had seen it only thrice since it had set on his departure from Starter Town, and that had been four whole days ago. Slowly, the night would blot it out for good in its endless reign.

Alex stamped his boot to shake it free from gore.

The dirt on these valley paths were hard packed and unfit for life, but the trees were deep rooted and ecstatic at his offering. Taking the fertilizer for what it was, some of those roots snaked in and around a small chunk of ghoul flesh that had somehow stuck to the crook of his boot. It dragged it in and under where it disappeared.

Hanging by the branches of the largest tree, packed into the draped pillowcases that Alex had looted from the homes of that undead town, were roughly (blank) pounds of clay. Beneath the tree’s canopy of rust-colored leaves, a small fire burned. Alex had kept it burning during the hunt in hopes that the subtle heat might speed the clay-slurry's drying. He wasn’t sure if it actually had, but at the very least it wasn’t baking it ahead of schedule.

He sat down by the fire, against the tree’s stump, and took a breather. He wrapped gauze around the wound on his hand, the normal kind. And when that was done, he shut his eyes for a quick rest. 

The days had quickly been getting shorter, the nights longer, and in a shallow attempt to fix himself to a twenty-four hour sleep schedule, he’d begun sleeping in intervals of two hours every six.

Unfortunately, though their voices were weaker while he was on the path, Alex could still hear the maddening whispers from lost souls. It was the other reason he limited his rest to two hours. These nights, he always dreamt, and he knew it was for the better that those dreams didn’t reach their endings.

Two hours later, Alex reawoke. 

To the horizon a plume of orange smoke trailed a parachuted crate. It was about a mile off and ahead into the mists to his left. A fresh drop. Orange. 

That meant it would contain outdoor or survivalist gear. Sleeping bags, maybe. Fire starters for those without their means. Toiletries and hygienics. 

Alex glowered. As much as he would love to sleep on a proper bed roll, or to wipe his ass with lush paper, he knew all too well that these gifts didn’t come freely. His wasn’t the only path out there to the city. There were many others, starting from many other starting points, and these supply drops were rarely visible to just one.

It was often said that Nightmare was the death of humanity, but Alex thought it was the third scenario where most of them learned that lesson. There was never enough supplies for everyone.

Shaking his head, Alex stood and stamped out his fire. He was ahead of the pack but he wasn’t the only one, and he had no desire to see what other monsters might have made it so far so quickly. Moreover, he had a job to do.

As fast as he was traveling, as little as he slept, Alex still had not seen head or tail of Gloomy. He’d seen her tracks of course; brushed over and hidden in some places as if her trail wasn’t exactly as indicative as the path she followed. Each day that he didn’t find her, Alex grew more and more suspicious of her. 

But his task couldn’t be helped.

Though it had not been advertised as such, the Quest Gloomy had taken from him would eventually evolve to be a Holy Quest. Occasionally, there were quests that did actually matter, and this was one of them. There was one at every starting point if you managed to beat the Second Scenario, or so Alex had heard. And the reward was the same for every one of them: Access to the Constellational Vaults. 

He needed that access. So once he’d stored his clay back in his inventory, he began back down the path.

[Path of Buried Ghosts]

Be it that the ghosts that haunt your path stay buried.

May your passage prove safe.

***

162:31:58

It’d been one-hundred sixty two hours, thirty-one minutes, fifty-eight seconds since Alex had found himself in Nightmare. Humans were meant to rise with the sun and fall with its setting, and the eventual endless night that would come was at odds with that biology. The fact that the interface had a timer function was only a small mercy. 

But not all creatures in Nightmare were human. There too, were vampires.

Vampires were humanity’s shadow. As the sun set and the moon rose, so did they, and they either hid or died with its eventual fall. But where humanity were strangers in a strange land, the Vampires were at home here. When the days grew shorter and the nights longer, they no longer needed sleep. And when the poor man’s exhaustion proved too much, when darkness came and the humans finally slept, that was when they were at their most dangerous. Nightmare could starve a man, and yet here the Vampires were, utterly surrounded by their natural prey. 

It was not uncommon to wake up and find two holes drilled into the neck of the man sleeping next to you.

With teeth as sharp as daggers, the vision was clear to Alex’s dreaming mind.

Two canines, bared in a twisted grin. Eyes beady and glazed over in red fury. Blood smeared the vampire’s cheeks like rotten berry juice, and draped in her arms was a body. She bit into its neck again, maw stretched wide, and tore.

Head hung by a thread, Laura could only mouth one final message. 

“Alex--”

Alex jolted awake, a cold sweat down his back. 

He summoned his sword, knowing full well that there was no danger in his vicinity, but wanting it in his hands anyways. All around him was dark, shadows flitting by the light of his fire. He took several breaths, then banished his sword away.

Sleeeeeep, the lost souls called. Sleep some more… you know you want to…

show usss…

166:28:13

Alex cursed. He had slept almost two hours longer than he had meant to. It wasn’t huge, but he was only barely gaining on Gloomy at the moment and any loss in time was a setback. He should get up this second, increase his pace and make up the difference. 

He should, but…

Stay… Sleeep some more……free uss….

He sighed. It wasn’t that those damned souls still had any sort of grip over him, but he didn’t feel like getting up this second. He felt like shit. They had kept him asleep, spurred on his dreams. But to show him nightmares was one thing. Memories were something else.

Slee–

Alex cracked open a red bull. 

He wasn’t a fan of the taste. It was like licking metal, and not in the way he liked, but it was all he’d been able to find in his fridge. His roommate didn’t drink Monsters. And even still, he was down to his last one.

“Bottoms up,” he muttered.

He cringed. What he’d kill for some Orange Juice to chase this down with. 

In the sky, he saw another supply drop. This one was farther, its smoke lighting up to paint the night sky a fluorescent green, which meant it had food and water. Those were the most deadly of all. 

On its surface, the third scenario might seem easy. Only two days into Nightmare, Alex had already had to face both a necromancer and a whole town of undead. Being given a straight and narrow path to safety and having a month to walk it… it can seem deceptively easy. At least until your neighbor guts you for a bar of rations.

For a sparse second Alex had the mind to wonder where Jun was, and how he was taking everything. But it’d been five days since he’d left his note for the man. There was no way to know whether he was alright, and he wasn’t sure he wanted the confirmation. Things were how they were.

Putting both the supply drop and Jun out of mind, Alex unwrapped his lars bar. It was another vile concoction, almost as bad as the red bull, but he crammed it down anyway. He was the type of man to eat the crust of his pizza first, and he was saving the best of his food reserves for last. Crackers, brie, Salami– he’d raided his fridge and pantry first thing after finding his bearings and the third scenario had been the reason for it. The death of his humanity was not something he intended to relive.

His stomach satisfied, Alex then took two more things out from his inventory. A small carving knife he’d kept in his pocket from the before-times and a handful of small wooden slats. If he was going to waste time here, he would at least waste it productively. 

Which meant improving on his Enchanting.

***

Awakened Status:

Alex Smith: F Rank, Lvl 15.

Race: Human

Class: Stone Dancer

Bloodline: [Forged in Fire]

Affinity: Fire Aspect

Titles: [The First Spark]

Attributes: [Half-dead Persistence]

Consumable Essence Balance: 5,550

Skills:

[Stealth] Lvl 25: (apprentice)

[Meld] Lvl 13: (novice)

[Metalwork] Lvl 9: (novice)

[Examine] Lvl 8: (novice)

[Feather Foot] Lvl 8: (novice)

[Pierce] Lvl 7: (novice)

[Enchant] Lvl 4: (novice)

[Appraise] Lvl 3: (novice)

Free Skill-slots: 0

Stats:

Vitality - 3

Strength - 14

Dexterity - 11

Fortitude - 7

Perception - 9

Arcane - 8

***

Hey ya'll! Sorry for the wait, and more sorry for my silence for the bulk of it! The last month has been pretty chaotic for a whole host of reasons, but a large part of it is that there was a pretty big flaw in my outline that meant I had to scrap most of what I had planned for this arc and start from scratch. But I'm confident in what I got planned out, so I'll just let the story speak for itself there and hopefully we won't see a large wait like this again.

Aside from that, I got two pretty big pieces of news. First, I'm happy to announce that we've signed System Reset up with a PUBLISHER!

So yeah, definitely gonna have to step up my game there. But the second piece of news–which I'm just as happy to announce— is that a brand new KITTEN has wandered into my life! Her name's Maomao and she's an absolute menace, but I love her!

From now on, both Sophi and Maomao will be featured in chapter afternotes. But I just wanna thank everyone who's been waiting for my return. I still ain't ready to make exact delivery promises, but if the wait ever tests anyone's patience, I'm just happy folks have stuck around this long for me already. I'll try to have the next few out a lot sooner, but until then!

Floofs: "Maomao", "Plip", and "Yin/yang"

   
Update: For anyone checking back, I'd just like to inform you that I'm taking a mental health break from patreon and rr. I'll still be writing and will resume posting when I am able.