Chapter 44

The cave loomed before me, gaping wide and silent, like the maw of some ancient, forgotten beast. An unnatural chill poured forth, heavy with the stench of damp decay. I wrinkled my nose and again cursed my enhanced senses, they were a blessing and a curse.

I stared into the darkness, my stomach twisting with a nauseating familiarity. The air carried a scent—sharp and metallic—that pulled at buried memories. My grip tightened instinctively around the sabre’s hilt, knuckles whitening. I took a deep breath and stepped forward with a limp, my knee still healing from the after effects of last stand and my Qi.

I thought about stopping, resting. But who knew when more sundered would appear. I needed to do this now.

I made my way to the entrance, it was strewn with bones — beast and human alike. Pale skulls stared sightlessly beside shattered femurs and splintered ribs, some bleached by time, others fresher, scraps of blackened flesh still clinging and rotten. The dirt beneath had absorbed so much blood it felt slick and heavy under my boots. It was a muddy graveyard turned grey and lifeless.

The fox appeared beside me, then slipped into the cave, its form quickly disappearing.

Steeling myself, I let out a deep breath, shook my head and stepped forward. Bones crunched underfoot as I entered the oppressive dark. Immediately the atmosphere thickened, pressing against me like wet cloth. Bioluminescent mold clung sporadically to the damp stone walls, glowing faintly in eerie blues and greens, barely enough to navigate but allowing me some light.

The deeper I moved, the stranger the cave became.

Stone gave way gradually to something organic. Thick, pale roots crawled along the walls, pulsating slowly with a dark fluid, resembling veins. I fought down nausea and my throat tight as the stench of rot intensified.

I stilled as a distant sound reached my ears — a wet, dragging shuffle.

I froze and pressed myself against the wall. My sabre slid silently from its sheath, poised and ready. Qi trembled at the edge of my awareness but I didn’t unleash it. Not yet. The sound moved past, fading into silence. I exhaled carefully and continued deeper.

The tunnel branched frequently, marked with strange, arcane symbols drawn crudely in substances too dark and viscous to be ink. I avoided these paths, relying instead on instinct, allowing myself to feel drawn — pulled by some unseen force deeper into the earth. It seemed easy enough, all I had to do was follow the smell of rot.

I continued on, time slipping by as I moved in silence. Occasionally, Sundered crossed my path. I dispatched them swiftly, brutally and with no hesitation. Qi burned through my limbs in controlled bursts, each fight brief and decisive. My body ached as I used my Qi without last stand activating.

Not all fought back however. Some were twisted horrors, half alive bodies merged grotesquely into the walls, twitching weakly as I passed. Their empty, glazed eyes followed me.

I ended each and everyone’s misery, my poison was slowly running out but looking at the pain in their faces demanded me to let them rest.

Sweat trickled down my spine, chilling quickly in the damp air, as I finished stabbing a sundered woman through the heart. Half her body was protruding from the cave wall, her other half sunken deep into the flesh like substance.

Pain throbbed insistently in my shoulder, my sabre-arm trembling slightly. I blamed fatigue, even as a deeper dread clawed subtly at my mind. Each step forward became harder, like moving through water, the cave itself pulling at my resolve.

Memories flickered at the edges of my consciousness of oppressive darkness and crushed stone. My breath came in short, shallow bursts. I stopped, pressing my hand against the wall for support, then recoiled as flesh-like texture yielded under my touch, slick and sickly warm.

“No.” I shook myself free, forcibly clearing my mind. This wasn’t Earth. I wasn’t that helpless person anymore. I had strength, power. Yet my hands still shook as I pressed onward, deeper into the unsettling labyrinth. My only companion, the small fox who seemed intent on heading deeper into the cave.

The walls tightened gradually, the path narrowing into claustrophobic corridors. I crouched low beneath collapsed sections, my body brushing disturbingly soft, pulsing growths. One burst open, splattering my robes with black, viscous fluid. Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to move faster. My robes now painted black and ripped.

Ahead, a faint, flickering light pulsed weakly, irregularly. My path was clear. I steeled myself, pushing through the sickening dread, towards the flickering glow.

The floor tilted subtly downward, pulling me inexorably deeper, into crushing darkness. My hand brushed against the wall, it was a mistake. I wiped my fingers hastily on my robes, trying to remove the liquid that had found its way onto my hand.

My pace quickened, driven by the creeping fear that the tunnel might close around me, sealing me forever in its terrible embrace.

I pressing onward through the choking, pulsing darkness. The scent of rot and decay grew overpowering, mixing with something metallic — blood, fresh and abundant.

Every instinct demanded retreat, screamed for me to flee this terrible place, to escape the crushing weight of stone and flesh that threatened to bury me alive.

But retreat wasn’t an option. It never was.

Gritting my teeth, fighting the panic rising like a wave, I pushed forward, blade clenched tightly, toward the flickering light just beyond.

I paused sharply, gaze instinctively snapping upward.

A face stared down at me from the wall.

It was a grotesque sight, a mummified visage with eyes darker than blood, mouth sewn closed in ragged lines. What remained of the Sundered was embedded grotesquely into the wall like some trophy. Strips of its flesh had been peeled away, revealing raw muscle fibers that intertwined sickeningly with the cave’s living architecture. A grim warning — or perhaps simply another cruel decoration.

My breath hissed softly through clenched teeth as I ducked my head and moved swiftly onward.

After that, I avoided touching the walls. I should have hours ago.

The tunnel widened gradually, leading me into a small, oppressive chamber. The low ceiling dripped moisture, condensation glistening like beads of sweat. In its center stood a pedestal — a gruesome mound of fused bone fragments and melted stone. Resting atop the twisted altar was something writhing softly.

It might have been a fox or hare once. Now, it was an unrecognizable mass of quivering limbs and pulsating flesh, bloated veins straining beneath translucent skin. Eyes wide and vacant, they glowed faintly crimson, staring sightlessly upwards. Its mouth hung open in silent agony, trembling perpetually without emitting a single sound.

It wasn’t dead, though death would have been merciful.

I edged closer cautiously. The ground around the pedestal bore unmistakable scorch marks, familiar blackened streaks — evidence of some form of fire. This poor beast had been seared from the inside, yet somehow clung stubbornly to life, trapped in endless torment.

My hand moved almost unconsciously, driving my sabre cleanly through its skull. The creature didn’t twitch, didn’t flinch. It simply ceased its slow, tortured trembling.

Whatever it once was, it had long departed.

Pulling my blade free, I wiped it meticulously against a patch of moss. My stomach twisted violently, bile rising bitterly in my throat. I thought I’d seen the worst the rifts could offer — mindless destruction, chaotic carnage — but this was deliberate and intentional.

The air chilled further as I pressed on from the strange chamber with discarded beasts. An unseen presence hovered at the edges of my perception, oppressive and powerful.

The slope steepened sharply beneath my feet. I nearly lost my footing, gripping reflexively onto a jagged outcrop that tore deeply into my palm. Blood welled up, only to vanish instantly as the porous stone greedily absorbed it, drinking hungrily as though entitled.

Recoiling in revulsion, I forced myself onward. Here the walls ceased merely to be damp; they became saturated, slick, veins bulging just beneath their surface, pulsing slowly with dark fluid. Rib-like protrusions emerged, stark and jagged, lining the passageway grotesquely, as though walking through the ribcage of some decaying giant. Broken bones protruded like twisted spikes, marrow oozing thickly, black and viscous.

The final tunnel widened abruptly into a cavernous chamber, immense and shadow-filled. Tendrils of calcified gore dangled high above, the ceiling lost in the gloom. But it wasn’t the cavern itself that stopped me — it was what filled its depths.

Hundreds of beast corpses lay scattered, bodies twisted grotesquely, mutilated and bloated. Some split open violently, others burned from within, each bearing unmistakable corruption. Blackened veins, sunken crimson eyes, punctured flesh — each a testament to unspeakable horrors.

The smell was overwhelming — a nauseating blend of decay, sulfur, and something unnaturally sweet and chemical that clung thickly in my throat. My foot sank into a grotesque mat of congealed blood and viscera, squelching sickeningly with each cautious step. I finally bent over and let the contents of my stomach mix with the blood on the floor.

I wiped my mouth and moved further into the grim expanse, blade poised defensively.

These creatures weren’t merely killed — they had been experimented on. Drained, discarded, like broken, empty shells. My pulse quickened, hands trembling slightly before I forced them steady. Crouching beside a half-consumed Mistfang, my blade brushed its ruined flank.

I rose slowly, eyes fixed ahead. At the far end of the chamber, another passage beckoned, wide and circular, framed ominously by bone-like protrusions. A foul breeze drifted outward, carrying with it the stench of decay.

That was my path forward. And the fox seemed to agree, it whimpered at the dead beasts and trotted through the blood, intent on going deeper.

I sighed, my body was tired and I had long ago lost track of time. I considered resting but instead, I looked the grotesque tableau before me, listening to the oppressive silence, if I rested here I’d be waiting patiently for a dawn that would never come. Better off to keep moving forward.