"Before he took his last breath, The Redeemer told us not to lose hope, even as the forfends weakened and the reavers drew closer. As long as we kept the light oasis alive, the Holy One would send another Redeemer to lead us to the core, the one place no corruption can reach. In his journey to slay the Behemoth, The Redeemer will destroy the reavers once and for all, returning us to a natural world."

  - Excerpt from an unknown scroll from the land of Namido

  *

  The red fluid flowing through the snow was creeping towards the forfends, but the golden forfend river held firm, even as the reavers crawled towards the enclave.

  Obiefune was thankful that there weren’t many of them since it was still light, but he couldn't help but worry when more than five of the reavers surrounded the voidling. While Obiefune knew the voidling was strong, he still felt anxious. It was concerning that the reavers even managed to get this close to the enclave, and it made him want to consider the barbarians' offer.

  The voidling's breath resembled mist in the air as he leapt back, shielding his face with his arm. A reaver’s claws ripped through his shoulder before he landed in the safety of the forfends, and he cursed out loudly.

  “Enough!” the voidling shouted. "This is the worst! Why should I suffer because of these half-breeds?"

  He held up his black ruby in his good hand, and the corrupted snow rose from the ground and began to surround him.

  Obiefune backed away, watching from the safety of the forfends. It never ceased to amaze him how tightly the energy clung to the voidling, yet he never became corrupted, unlike the rest of the Namids.

  Dark tendrils of corrupted energy danced around the ruby before shooting out onto the reavers as they snarled, standing around in one place, unable to get through the forfends. The voidling's abominable power clung to him, enhancing his strength. Now empowered, he was able to strike the reavers one by one. The creatures showed minimal reaction even as his corrupted energy overflowed inside them, destroying their bodies.

  The reavers all fell onto the red snow, and an excess of corrupted energy flowed from the disintegrating reavers into the voidling's ruby. The energy was then all absorbed and sealed away inside the ruby. He checked the area for any straggler reavers, and finding none, the voidling bent down to pick up the five black stones that were dropped by the dead reavers. The red snow absorbed every other part of their bodies.

  "Here's to another pointless victory. 157 Tier 1s," the voidling mumbled, taking out a knife and drawing a line on his already heavily scarred arm. "If I hadn't gotten myself caught, I'd be at Tier 4 already."

  To him, his victories against the reavers were pointless, but to Obiefune and the Namids, every win was the difference between life and death. Unfortunately, for one of them, the victory came too late because even though the reavers were destroyed, the boy lay on the ground, twitching and shivering. The infection had already spread throughout his body, congesting it with the corrupted energy from the red snow that seeped into his festering wound.

  The voidling once again made sure the area was clear before he stepped out of the forfends and picked up the boy. He dropped him into the square without showing any compassion or care for the twitching body. He didn’t say anything else; he just walked towards the river to renew the rest of the forfends.

  "It will be dark soon," Obiefune called after him.

  The voidling waved his hand dismissively. "I know my limitations better than you, half-breed," he said without turning back.

  He was as crude as always. He'd been here for two years, and yet, Obiefune still didn't know his name. Well, he'd lasted longer than the last 3 voidlings they'd received, at least. He did his job, no matter how condescending he was. It was a pity that he knew so much about the world, but he never spoke to Obiefune about anything except the reavers and forfends.

  Obiefune sighed as he watched the voidling's back disappear. It was time, he knew he could not put it off any longer. He knelt down in front of the twitching infected boy. He was still alive, but the corruption had spread from his wound towards his neck. The pained grunts coming from him were chilling, as was watching the infected parts of his body start to burn red and scab. Looking at the boy, Obiefune was glad of his decision not to allow any newborns to be named.

  "Sleep now, free from the behemoth's fear. Life laments your rest, so let the darkness near. Light will guide you to the comfort of death's embrace," he whispered the song, cradling the boy's head. He pulled out his dagger and dipped it into the chalice of light water. Even though he knew what must be done, Obiefune was weak, and he closed his eyes when he plunged the glowing weapon into the boy's throat.

  Surprisingly, Obiefune’s hands did not tremble when he pulled the dagger out. Black viscous liquid poured out of the wound into the red snow and was quickly soaked in its corruption. The drops of light water from the dagger closed the wound, and the corruption stopped eating away at the boy's body. At least this way, they could let him go without resentment. He would die without turning and could be free in the light of death's embrace.

  Obiefune almost didn't want to look at the small chalice when he started cremating the boy's body, but he knew the light water was nearly all gone now. He poured a flask of light water over the body; it caught the light and burnt the body white, leaving nothing but ash behind, which was also assimilated into the red snow. Despite his strong resolve, he felt his core waver, and he held the dagger even tighter. This was all those damn barbarians' fault for inciting the people and putting dangerous ideas into children's heads.

  To calm himself, he did a perimeter check around the quartree, checking how well the water flowed through the forfend river. What he discovered soured his mood even more. The water in the river had diminished again; it wasn’t going to be enough to power the quartree for much longer. The corruption encroached on the river, and he would only be able to glean three more vials out of his chalice. The enclave would be defenceless in less than three months at the rate the infection was spreading.

  Maybe if Obifune left and tried his luck with the reavers or accepted the barbarians’ offer to fight back and give their lives for a foolish cause, they would accept him. They had come so many times imploring him to join them. He ground his fangs in anger. Obiefune should leave. He should run and abandon his duty because the redeemer wasn't coming. That was just a fabrication, a story meant to give them hope and something that the old lady could tell to children as a bedtime story.

  He looked down at the disappearing ashes of the dead child and laughed again. Fantasies, all of them. He could never leave them. In the end, he too would fall to the corruption like everyone else; they would never reach the core, and they would all die and become reavers. This was the fate of a world without a Void Eruption to seal the karma of the corrupted creatures. Nothing but the forfends could contain the reavers except the voidling's power and the water from the light oasis.

  What was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to save them? They all looked up to him like he was their saviour, even if he didn’t want to be. He knelt in front of the symbol of light on the forfend. Its bright golden colour, for some reason, always seemed to power the light water the most, and he felt at peace. He supposed that was just how his mind rationalised it since the old lady always said it was providence from the goddess of light. His eyes fell on the symbol of darkness on the forfend, and his core raged. Suddenly, the red snow looked inviting. All he needed was to give himself to the call, assimilate the corruption, and-

  “Obi,” a weak voice said behind him.

  He stiffened. He didn't have to turn around to know it was that damn old lady again. No matter how many warnings he gave to stay inside the quartree, she never listened.

  “Gran Arthia, were you praying for the infected again?” he asked. He’d told her many times to stay away; she wasn’t immune to the infection like he was.

  “No,” she said. "Why are you so uptight, boy? This is why I always say you need a good woman by your side; then you won't be as irritable."

  "If you are here to talk to me about Lisinda, please just stop. There is no reconciling us. We want different things for this dying world," he snapped. His irritability was dangerously close to exploding. Because he was born with the power to withstand corruption, everyone expected him to procreate to pass on the blood. But why would he pass on the burden? Why would he pass on the awareness of consciousness? The only way to survive this world was to be at peace like the children who didn’t understand that their world was ending. No, that their world had ended, and they were following in its footsteps.

  “I came to tell you that the portal has opened,” Arthia said.

  Damn it, Obiefune sheathed the dagger and turned to the woman. She was bent at the waist, a thin stick being the only thing holding her up. “Has the reaver lord gathered enough forces for a raid? Are the barbarians in position already?” he asked sharply.

  “No, you don’t understand. I'm not talking about the oasis portal, but the skyrift portal at the world's end,” she said, beaming. “The Holy One has heard our prayers, and is sending a Chosen to save us.”

  Of all the things Obiefune had expected to deal with today, a Chosen One was not on the list. He gritted his teeth. Voidlings were one thing, since they were bound and limited in their power, and they couldn't hurt the Namids, but a Chosen? That was a real threat.

  Why now, after 39 years? Was it not enough that the last Chosen had doomed them all? No, Obiefune shook his head. “Holy One? What kind of a holy god would have watched our world fall the way it did and done nothing but send voidlings to keep the reavers at bay?” he said. “Even if a Chosen did reach this cursed world, he will be devoured by the reavers before he can reach the quartree.”

  “Have some hope," Arthia said. "You aren't the only one who's seen how low our light water reserves are. Come, let us wait for the Chosen. We have to know if the gods have sent us a saint or a devil.”

  "No," Obiefune said stubbornly. Not again. "You can do whatever you want, Gran Arthia, but I will not allow anyone to lead us astray again. Not when we've finally found a place to call home after all these years...not when we have found peace with our impending death."

  The old woman regarded him shrewdly. "Well, I cannot change your mind if it's made. Although, the children have crawled out onto the snow to watch his approach. I do hope none of them step over the forfends."

  "Dammit!" Obiefune said, running towards the quartree. He needed to keep the children in line and call the voidling back. He was the only one who could protect them from a Chosen after all.

  Langa felt like he was both asleep and floating inside a wall. His soul drifted until he found himself standing before an impossibly tall wall stretching in both directions. The wall seemed to be the boundary between his body stuck in a Strapper inside the Tower and the unknown darkness his soul was floating in. It appeared as if it were a boundary between creation and corruption itself. He needed to make a conscious choice to leave The Quartenity's protection and begin the Infinite Challenge. Steeling himself, Langa bade his soul to leap into the abyss below.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  The thirteen lucent paths were in front of him, but all of them were greyed out, leaving only the unstable fourteenth. Langa's karma drifted through the abyss. He could see so many things, yet he perceived nothing. It was as if he was passing through a hundred worlds a second until he came to an abrupt stop. There his body did not exist. He was only a soul whose strength was determined by his karma. First, he could feel Adtonifulmin guiding him, imploring him to give himself form. He needed a body so he could see and move. He concentrated on creating himself, how he looked, and how he felt. Following his guidance, his karma reshaped itself into Langa's body.

  He opened his eyes and could see again. For a moment, everything went white. His vision was overwhelmed by a blinding brightness, and then the world began to recolour itself into shades of red and black. He now stood naked in a red wasteland, dominated by a massive crater that seemed to start from the sky into an unknown depth. He hurriedly equipped himself with his armour from his inventory as a chill bore into him. Then he looked around.

  The landscape was eerily empty as if all life had been snuffed out from it. There were no half-destroyed stone buildings, or broken pieces of iron, and no roads that were cracked and shattered to indicate a natural disaster or war. In a way, the emptiness was more alarming. His whole body shivered as he stepped into the red ground, only then realising it was snow.

  Langa's Left Eye of Nahuke allowed him to scan the horizon, but all he could see was an endless world of red snow. In the far distance there was a large golden light, and all over the snowfield were small golden squares with symbols at each point. He stepped closer to them, but before he could scan the squares, his Avatar title finally picked up a mass of breaths of life.

  As he looked closer, he saw a group of monstrous creatures coming his way. They were bald and white-skinned, with black veins visible beneath their translucent flesh. Their sharp black fangs hung outside of their mouths, and two tentacles protruded from their heads like horns. Their barking echoed through the wasteland, sending shivers down Langa's spine.

  His hand instinctively went to the hilt of his spear, his eyes never leaving the approaching creatures. The largest of them all stood hunched on two white feet that sank into the red snow. He had never seen creatures like this before. They had the bright blue-green eyes of corrupted creatures from the Tower, but they felt wilder somehow, so he scanned them.

  Reaver

  Tier 1

  Corruption density: 11%

  They were all Tier 1 and had a corruption density of 10 to 14%. That scan meant nothing to him. Tier 1 could be a level 11 or a level 19 monster. He didn't even know how strong these creatures were in terms of sentience and sapience. There was no way to tell if they were on the level of regular corrupted creatures or at the level of maestrils. The last time he tangled with a high-level maestril, he'd needed Adtonifulmin's power to defeat it. To test the waters, he infused mana into two of his Lightning Lucent Powder bombs and threw them at the oncoming creatures.

  The inverse relationship of the lightning and water disciplines on the snow sent a massive blow through the four, the lightning particles burning into the creatures' pale skin. Their black blood was spilt, and it seeped into the red snow and was absorbed by it. All four of the creatures lay dead on the ground, and Langa shrugged, happy that they were weak. He looked around again, then used his Avatar title to sense the life in the vicinity. To his surprise, he felt life in the four creatures next to him. It was the only thing that saved him from a lethal blow as he Flash Stepped away from an icy swipe of a corrupted claw.

  The four figures emerged from the now swirling snow, their skin pale as ice, now covered with black-blood-coated shards of frozen armour; their claws were red with frost.

  Even though the snow was uneven ground, Langa had painstakingly trained his reflexes in Nitract’s Ravine. His feet barely touched the ground as he used The Legacy's First Step to weave around the first reaver, and attacked two of them at once. Tonare's tip pierced through the fourth creature's frozen armour, but it barely registered the blow, choosing instead to claw him across the arm. Pain mixed with ice cut through him as the wound burnt with corruption.

  “Damn it!” Langa cursed, feeling the chill seep into his skin. His left arm fucking hurt far more than a blow that only took 40 HP after his armour's defence should. He infused lightning into Tonare, striking the first reaver as it attempted to bite at him.

  The creature’s eyes brightened, and it absorbed the snow around it, encasing itself in an even thicker layer of icy armour. Langa swore under his breath; he had to think fast, so he took a few steps back to create distance. To his surprise, the reaver stopped a few centimetres from him and growled but didn’t come closer. He blinked, wondering what was happening until he realised he had stumbled into a square with glowing golden water drawn into the snow around him.

  He stood behind the water, and all four of the reavers barked and grasped at him, but they didn't cross the golden line. He did a little experiment and stepped away from the square, and the creatures pounced on him. Whenever he hid inside the square, they didn't dare try to reach him. But he had no time to play. His fingers were numb from the cold, and he fumbled to retrieve his Electrospark Colloid bomb. It was stronger than regular lucent patch bombs, but he had no idea how to defeat creatures that came back to life no matter how much he damaged them. He stared at the golden water, then at the barking creatures, and an idea struck him. He had nothing but their fear to base it on, but it was worth a shot.

  He dropped the bomb and let it fall into the golden water. When he picked it up again, it was covered in the water. He then infused it with mana and threw it at the reavers. The Electrospark Colloid flew through the air and it detonated, sending a blast of lightning through the reavers in a wide radius. The reavers screamed in agony as whatever magic was in the water damaged them. Langa grinned now that his theory was proven and dipped Tonare’s blade into the golden water, then charged from behind the square. This time when the spear pierced through the creatures' icy armour, it didn’t rise again. The reaver collapsed into the snow, the light consuming it entirely.

  The remaining two reavers turned towards him, but they were too late. Langa moved with a speed that must have seemed supernatural to them, passing between them as he struck with his spear again and again, the golden water amplifying each blow. Tonare ripped open one reaver's abdomen, causing black blood and rotten flesh to pour out onto the snow. Once the red fluid on the snow engulfed and swallowed the reavers, a disgusting process, they all dropped small black stones, and he picked them up, wondering what they were.

  [Corrupted Ice lucent stone

  Item Rank: Common]

  Langa had seen ice lucent stones before, but never corrupted ones. He placed them in his inventory and looked around. He had another problem: his clawed arm was not healing; in fact, it started getting worse, the skin reddening along the scars and the corrupted wound festering. He could feel the numbness in the arm, even his Regeneration skill couldn't help him. This corruption was different from what he'd harnessed in the Tower; it was raw and less controlled. He tried taking a health potion, but even though his HP ticked up, it went down again. He tried to collect the golden water into a flask to pour over his wound, but once he did that, the golden square disappeared, and he was left exposed with barely half a cup of water. That water cauterised a small portion of the wound.

  A thick red blizzard in the air rose, and goosebumps filled his skin as the cold covered him. Red snow started falling, and when his boots stepped on the snow, they sank into the corrupted cold water. The snow was so deep that it soaked his boots. Even if he stayed still, his extremities would freeze. The cold, corrupted air entered his lungs, and he began sneezing. He tightened his jerkin around himself in an attempt to protect himself from the biting wind as his teeth clattered. Langa was South African. He had never seen snow in his life back home, and the coldest temperature he had ever experienced was around 9 C. So he legitimately felt like he was dying. Given how low his water resistance was, he needed shelter. Badly.

  The snow lowered his visibility, and he was hesitant to activate Two Eyes of Nahuke again because it would drain his mana and stamina, and that wasn't a good idea in a new area. He closed his eyes and activated his Avatar title, searching for any signs of life in this barren landscape. He walked ahead looking for both life and golden squares. Finally, he felt...something.

  There were multiple breaths clustered together, far off into the distance, but the strangest thing was that he couldn't tell if it was people or monsters. Usually, that was an easy distinction to make; the corruption inside monsters polluted their breath and left a lot of marks behind, making them easier to track. These breaths, though, had life, like mortals, but breathed corrupted energy. Even among that cluster of breaths, there was one that felt less corrupted and more full of life. It puzzled him, but he supposed he had to find them first to determine if they were friendly.

  More of those monsters could come out and attack him, and he didn't know how to heal the wounds the reavers left and did not have enough golden water to kill them either. So he hurried towards the breaths of life he felt. H

  A heavy blizzard hit him, and he cursed again, starting to run to keep himself warm. He pulled out a flask of Synn's tea that was still warm from his inventory, and it helped ease the chill a little. The more he walked, the less he liked this place. There were no buildings, no signs of civilisation—only a frozen wasteland. He shuddered at the thought that Earth could have turned out like this, a world where humanity had been destroyed by corrupted creatures. The thought sent a chill deeper than the cold into his bones.

  As he ran across the land to keep warm, he could sense the breaths of life growing closer until he reached a strange contraption. In front of it, he saw a group of ragged people emerge from the blizzard, wrapped in tattered furs and uncured leather. They stood just beyond a square river of gold water, and they were all gathered in front of a massive metallic tree bordered by the river. Langa could see their wariness as if he were a ghost come to life.

  These people had the same pallor of skin as the monsters. Their eyes were sunken and wild. Except for three of them, they had black veins and eyed Langa with curiosity and hunger. He thought these had to be the submortals The Unrivalled told him about.

  The health potion did nothing to heal the corruption damage, and he could feel it spreading. If these people lived here, they should know how to clear the corruption. The people stood in a tight group. He approached them hurriedly, his arm aching badly. Langa could see the children nestled against the few parents there, wide eyes fixed on him.

  The three who were standing in front of the pack were different from everyone else. Their breaths were deeper, and their eyes more focused. There were three people: an elderly lady who bowed her head before him, a man who wore a determined but fearful look in his eye, and the third made Langa’s heart go cold. He was a wolfkin, and held tightly in his left hand was a Void Ruby. A slight panic filled Langa as he scanned him. His alignment was black. A voident.

  [Agora Pamanta

  Wolfkin

  Level ??? (Locked at level 19)]

  The voident laughed heartily. “Ah, the esteemed hero has indeed arrived. Maybe I am not going to die in this half-breed hovel after all.”

  Langa’s hand instantly went to Tonare, ready to cut up the voident. However, what about these people standing with him? Were they being held hostage? He decided to scan the man next to the voident just to be sure.

  [Obiefune

  Submortal

  Level 0

  HP: 135/149

  Karma: -132]

  The submortal named Obiefune looked at the voident and nodded towards Langa. “Do your job. Protect us from him,” he said.

  The voident rolled his eyes. “You are starting to annoy me with your endless orders. I don't work for you, half-breed," he said. "If you want him dead, do it yourself. I have enough red in my alignment.”

  Langa didn’t understand the dynamic. In the first place, why did it seem like no one was uncomfortable around the voident? Did he live with them? He stepped through the square and was immediately engulfed by a biting chill that cut through his clothing like a knife.

  “I am only going to ask you once. Step away from the submortals and put your Void Gem on the ground,” Langa stated, his grip tightening on Tonare. He equipped his Beginner Voident Hunter Title. They may not have been inside a pseudo-void territory, but he still released a fraction of his karma pressure at the voident, showing him that he was serious.

  There was a loud gasp as all the submortals staggered back, some bowing, others clutching their heads or rolling around in pain. Langa hastily unequipped the title, confused by why it worked on the submortals when they weren't voidents.

  Obiefune who seemed to be the least affected, whispered something to the voident and the voident laughed. “He is more likely to kill me than any of you,” he said.

  Turning his attention to Langa, the voident raised his hands. “I can’t release the Void Gem, mate; it's too dangerous for me. Figures that they'd send me a hunter…Your arm is infected,” the voident said. “It won't kill you like it would the half-breeds, but it's going to spread until you die if you don't treat it.”

  Langa didn't care about that at the moment. Yes, his arm hurt terribly, but there was a voident in front of him, so he stepped closer. “If you really mean no harm, step away from the submortals.”

  The voident let out a short laugh and took a step towards Langa and away from the submortals. Langa frowned. It didn’t look like the voident was bracing for a fight. “What are you doing in a corrupted world? What have you done to these people?” he demanded.

  The voident raised his hands in a gesture of mock surrender. “Easy there, hunter. I’m not your enemy today,” he said, his tone deceptively calm. “In fact, I have been sent here by the same Great Quartenity who sent you.”

  Langa’s arm was so heavy that he was struggling to think clearly. "Explain."

  The submortals shifted uneasily, looking from Langa to the voident, fear creeping into their expressions.

  “Yes, yes. My body is Strapped in a Carciere and I am serving my sentence of 50 years, forced to protect this godsforsaken world from the power I desire so much, yet unable to obtain it. Isn’t that ironic? Technically, I am your guide and your helper,” the voident said.

  What the fuck did that mean? Dammit, Langa’s arm felt like it was about to fall off. Odd… Langa thought as he saw two versions of the voident all of a sudden and looked down to clear his head. Huh, the snow was suddenly too close, and then he fell into the cold red snow.

  “I told you the infection was spreading,” the voident said.