“What are you talking about?” Lincoln averted his gaze and moved the pill behind his back.

  Jodie sneered. He was too greedy for his own good, or simply an idiot. Torches crackled and his shadow danced across the cracked stone. For his health, it would be best if he were just an idiot. She held her hand out. “Give the pill to me, Lincoln. It needs to be destroyed.”

  “Why, though?” he asked. “We have an opportunity here. Don’t you see it?” He glanced up at her, bringing a hand to his chest. “We came all this way for resources, and this is—”

  “Lincoln!” Jodie snapped, crunching the eggshells beneath her sandals as she stepped forward. “These freaks used people’s lives to make these pills. Do you really want to be involved with that in any way?”

  His lip quivered, and then his head dropped. This idiot—at least even he could see that this was not natural. He raised his hand and held it open, with the pill sitting in his palm. The smell of sulphur tickled Jodie’s nose as she reached forward and took the pill. She dropped it to the floor, stomping down and crushing it. Black liquid oozed out from beneath her sandals.

  “Good, now…” she trailed off and turned her head. How had she not seen that before? To the side of the room, a heavy wood door loomed. Time had worn its wood, but it had smattered with signs of repair. That wasn’t how these Farmhands treated things.

  Heavy metal rods ran along the width of the door, with heavy locks bolting them in place. That was a lot of security, especially since they’d met them outside of said room. Surely, the egg would have needed that level of protection.

  Unless there was something they cared about more than a demonic egg that made them pills. Hmmm… They must keep something else in there, something they didn’t want to lose.

  Jodie turned away from Lincoln and crunched across loose bits of stone to stand in front of the door. She placed one hand on her hip and bent forward. The lock didn’t match the ones they’d seen before. It was different.

  “This must be where they keep all the money they made.” Behind, Lincoln strolled up and held a hand on his side as he surveyed the door. His head turned back and forth, looking for something. Had he figured something out?

  “What’s wrong?” Jodie bent back up and brushed a loose strand of ginger hair from her face, moving it behind her ear.

  “The bodies of the Farmhands. Where are they?”

  Jodie tilted her head, rolling her tongue around her mouth. Shadows played at her feet, flickering in the torchlight. Where were they? The creature had sucked them dry. But after that… Her eyes scanned the room. Crushed bodies. Dried husk. A pile of loose clothes. There had to be something.

  Lincoln stepped away, staggering on a stone, then stabilising himself as he searched the area. Images of the fight played in her mind. The tentacles had been wild, going this way and that. The most likely place was… her gaze drifted to the edges of the cavernous room.

  Her lips tightened into a smile moments later. A few steps away, shrouded in darkness, was a corpse. One of those Farmhands had to have had the key on them—perhaps the one Hector had been fighting. He had a lot of tentacles.

  Jodie walked over to the corpse, the smell of decay growing. Her brow pulled into a frown. People didn’t start rotting that fast, especially cultivators—that likely wouldn’t change even if they were the demonic kind.

  She dropped to one knee and reached forward. Her hand brushed the fabric, crunching it as she touched it. The blood had dried fast. That creature was not normal in the slightest. She moved the corpse’s face to the side. There was a little too much judgment in the eyes of a dead man for her liking.

  Especially when said dead man had done such horrendous things. After a few moments, her fingers brushed across something cold and metallic. The key. She grasped forward and pulled it back with a clink. The key’s silver surface glittered in the flickering torchlight.

  “Did you find something?” Lincoln called from the other side of the room. He was crouched over a misformed shape, one hand holding his side and the other rummaging around. He’d found the other corpse. Should she leave him to search aimlessly? No. That would waste time.

  “Yes,” Jodie said, getting to her feet. “Rest in peace, you sick freak,” she muttered. With one last look at the husk, she turned away and moved back over to the bolted door.

  By the Great Lake. I hope there isn’t more messed up stuff in there. I don’t think I could take any more.

  “What did you find?” Lincoln walked up next to her, his eye similar to those new aspirants at the dojo when they found out what she could do.

  “Just the key,” she said, holding it up, its surface glimmering. The crackle of flames echoed across the cavernous room as Lincoln looked toward the door. She shook her head and put the key into the bolt.

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  She slipped the key in with a clink, twisting then bracing against the door as the hinges squeaked. A musty scent assaulted her as she stepped into the room, causing her to pinch her nose. Glowing stones, embedded in the walls, illuminated the room, casting a steady blue light across the stone floor—aspected mana stones.

  These bastards must have been making a fortune off of the suffering they inflicted. She stepped into the room, Lincoln trailing behind her, and frowned. Around the room were several small crates filled with pills. How many pills were there? A hundred, maybe more. How many people had they killed, how had they been getting away with…

  Her head dropped as her fist clenched at her side. Slum dwellers were nothing in the end. Would there even be anyone to notice the disappearances? Hell, she’d heard nothing about anyone being missing. She turned her head to the side. Lincoln’s gaze moved around the room, his face tight.

  He wasn’t seeing the horror at all. All this idiot saw was the possibility of gold coins, not the damage these things had done, and could do. Going along with this idea had been the right call in more ways than one. She’d helped Hector and saved lives and now she could make sure these pills wouldn’t see the light of day.

  “We are going to destroy all of them,” she said, stepping over to one crate. Lincoln’s face fell for a moment before he lightly shook his head and nodded. She’d check on him before they left. People could say one thing and do another.

  She picked up the first crate and dropped it on the ground, plunging her sandaled foot straight into it. She stomped the contents several times and threw a glance at Lincoln. He’d moved over to a crate and lifted it with some hesitation, looking back at her. She gave him a sharp look.

  He dropped the crate and stomped on the contents. She nodded, pulling her feet back and moving to the next. This was how it needed to be. They couldn’t do anything for those who had already died. But the least they could do was make sure that their slaughter didn’t feed another and lead to more suffering.

  It was unlikely many of these people even considered what they were growing their cultivation with. Even with that knowledge, some would still happily indulge.

  A few moments later, as she was crushing the last box, she paused. A glint caught her eye, and she turned her head to it. Nestled within a small alcove, its wooden surface decorated with iron running along its edges; was a small chest. The steady blue light of the aspected mana stones glistened off the metal edges.

  Jodie dusted off her hands and moved over to the box, running her fingers across the small chest. The wood was fine. Oak maybe, perhaps even mahogany. She’d never worked with mahogany before, but her old man loved it.

  Now, if I was a disgusting stain on humanity, what would I keep in here?

  She pried the lid back and, for the first time all day, a smile came to her lips. Silver light tinged with blue from the room’s aspected mana stone played across her clothes as she reached forward and picked a silver coin off the top layer. She’d found these bastard’s coffers.

  “What’s up?” Lincoln asked, walking over. He paused at her side, his mouth dropping open like a kid offered his first sweet treat in months. “Silver. Is all of that silver? By the great lake, there has to be at least six hundred in there; we’re rich. I can’t believe it. We’re rich!”

  Jodie shook her head and placed the coin back into the coffer. They weren’t rich, not by a long shot. But this was substantial. It could do a lot for all of them. But there was also a weight to it. The Farmhands had sacrificed innocents to gather these coins. Could she spend it with good conscience? Only time would tell.

  She turned, moving the chest under her arm. In the center of the room, a black puddle had formed, with waves of red moving through it. One thing was certain, though, she was wrong. These Farmhands deserved death. If anything, they should have suffered much more before they died.

  People like them weren’t human, they couldn’t even be called beasts. They were scum that would cause more harm the longer they were alive. Lincoln stood at her side, his eyes occasionally flickering to the chest. Did he feel the same way about the Farmhands? She rolled her tongue around her mouth—his answer would probably make her punch him. She closed her eyes and stepped towards the door.

  “Hold on Jodie,” Lincoln said, moving over to the aspected mana stones embedded in the wall. He reached forward and pulled it free with a few tugs and grunts. “These stones are valuable and could sell for a bit.”

  “Right…” Jodie narrowed her eyes at him. But sighed. He was an opportunist if she wanted to be polite. But honestly, Lincoln was no better than the crows that circled after a fight in the dump. Creatures looking to take something from others whenever the opportunity presented itself—she hated that about him.

  She held the door open with one hand and bit her lip. With the silver they’d just found, none of them would have to worry about expenses for some time. Yet he still deemed looting to be necessary. It was a wonder he’d turned out like this, though his mother was quite the opportunist herself.

  The woman hadn’t been too kind to her dad’s wallet the last time he’d crushed his finger. Though it was a great lesson for him. Her mother always told him to… Jodie shook her head. “Lincoln, come on, we need to go.”

  The boy scurried forward, cradling a handful of aspected mana stones, the room darkening behind him as he walked forward. A light scent of dry rock played as he walked by, and Jodie let the door close, following behind as they walked back to the prison. She had a lot to tell everyone. Figuring out how to split this chest was a priority.

  — — —

  Hector’s eyelids fluttered open as a cool breeze blew across his cheeks, sending a chill down his spine. Where was he? He lay there, the stars twinkling above him, washing him in a warm glow. He was alive, that was good.

  He shifted a little and a sharp throbbing pain splashed across his back, soothing as he stilled. The burns. That Void Singer had got in a lucky shot in the end. That bastard. To his side, Harry lay still unconscious as the light dabbled by the rustling trees danced along his face.

  Hector smiled. He’d saved someone in the end. It was nothing to feel too proud of, but an assurance spread across his chest as it swelled a little. His Dad was right, always do good because it’s too easy to do evil, and we should never do the easy thing. Hector had chosen right in the end.

  “I see you’re awake.” A voice said. He followed the sound and stood by a tree, staring into the night sky was, Nyx.

  “I am,” Hector croaked. He swallowed. His saliva was a tad bit gummy. “Is everyone alright?”

  Nyx nodded, her black bob swaying gently in the wind. “Jodie and Lincoln are bringing the girl’s body up.” She pushed off the tree and stepped over to him, squatting down. She tilted her head as her gaze traced his face. “Who are you really, Hector? Because you aren’t a slum dweller.”

  Discord.