A few miles away from Valhalla, in the middle of the desolate woods, a loud puff of air echoed between the trees as a buck-naked man with black, web-shaped burns all across his body appeared out of nowhere.

  Mark collapsed to the ground, groaning and shouting as he felt his essence progress erode and his soul twist itself into a temporary seal. He desperately gritted his teeth, but the pain was too much. He released a muffled shout, turning red in the face.

  After a few more moments, it finally stopped, and he limply fell into the muddy, cold slush. “That was close…”

  The large gash across his back ached something wicked.

  He hadn’t come here expecting to look death in the eye. That man, Thor, was a true fighter. Had he moved on to the empire proper, there was a solid chance he would have qualified for Lordship.

  But that wouldn’t come to pass.

  Any self-respecting person of power had a means of escape readily available for situations like this. Mark’s was a spirit power called Instant Retreat. It cost him 20% of his essence progress to use, and it came with several nasty side effects.

  Everything he’d been carrying on his person had vanished into the void. Thankfully, he hadn’t had much of particular value on him, but it was still a harsh price to pay, leaving him without a weapon or armor.

  And the second, even more nasty side effect was that his soul would be sealed for a few days, disallowing the use of his abilities. Thankfully, he could at least utilize his talents, but he was still a sitting duck if someone were to come after him.

  Spirit abilities that allowed one to retreat like this were highly punishing—as if the world itself only reluctantly allowed their existence. If someone were to track him down, he’d be in real danger.

  Slowly, he brought himself up to his feet, wincing as he felt the cut across his back open up. “I’m lucky that it didn’t nick my spine.”

  His work in this shitty city was done.

  It was time to leave.

  ***

  Thor stood in a storm of energy, watching the snow melt and the muddy soil dry up around him. His eyes were locked on this spot his enemy had been standing in just a second ago. And now he was gone. “No…” he muttered, collapsing to his knees. “No…”

  The woods before him suddenly felt dreadfully peaceful.

  He heard a strange sound just above him.

  Glacially, with his hands shaking, he pulled his helmet off and looked up.

  One after another, drops of rain touched upon the ebbing storm of aura and flash-evaporated with dull puffs. Gradually, as the effect of his sacrifice whittled away into nothingness, they reached his face, dripping down the sides of his cheek and flowing across his neck, stopping as they reached his body suit.

  A disappointed flash of lightning cracked behind the clouds, too ashamed to directly look upon him.

  He heard another strange sound and looked to his side. “What the hell…?”

  He saw Freddy, his limbs severed, crawling forward like a caterpillar from hell. Thor couldn’t restrain a shocked laugh. “This guy… Seriously…”

  Freddy reached his left arm. Then, he bit into it and stuck it onto his shoulder. With a metallic clang, his blood solidified into hooked spikes that helped him attach it back to his body. Freddy focused on his storage ring, and a fleshy blob fell out. He smashed his forehead into it repeatedly until his arm was finally fused with his body.

  One by one, he reattached his limbs, and then, with the tissue still fraying and bleeding, he propped himself back to his feet and hobbled in Thor’s direction.

  Thor scoffed. “This guy… Why couldn’t he…” His lips suddenly curled into a disgusted frown.

  Some of the energy was still raging inside him. But it was reaching its end.

  He heard a crack. A part of the skin on his cheek, which was already as dry as bone, had fallen apart and detached. It fell on his armor and stuck to it like a badge of disgrace.

  “Thor?” Freddy called, his voice raspy and weak, likely as his lungs were still partially collapsed.

  Thor flinched, blinking deeply and slowly before turning to face Freddy. He saw the man standing with a look of utter horror and confusion. His clothes were in tatters. His chest was still caved in. His limbs were barely attached.

  But his eyes held a pain unlike that of someone hurt in body.

  “Hey there, Fred.” Thor tried to swallow, but there was no saliva left. “I…” His whole body rattled. “I…” He shook profusely. The urge overwhelmed him, but his tear ducts were dried up. The rain wept for him. “I… I hate myself, Freddy. I… I’ve achieved nothing.” He looked Freddy dead in the eye. “This time… please listen to me… and run.” He forced a smile on his face. It cracked his lips apart. “I know you… well enough… to know you probably won’t listen to me.”

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  Freddy laughed, but his expression twisted achingly, his eyes misting over.

  “Come here,” Thor said.

  Freddy hobbled over, collapsing to his knees before Thor.

  Thor raised his left arm, holding his hand out as if wanting to clasp arms with Freddy.

  Freddy obliged him.

  Thor grabbed his hand, his grasp weak and withering, and his body betrayed him. He fell forward, and Freddy caught him with his body. Freddy could feel the man’s skin against his bare chest. It was like burnt tree bark.

  “You… should give up… There is… no point… to this… Just. Leave. Heal your friend. And be happy.

  “Don’t be like me. Don’t die by the corpse of justice.”

  The man went still.

  Freddy slowly pushed the man’s body away, lowering it to the ground. He reached for the man’s face to close his eyes. But it was like his eyelids weren’t even there. The tips of his fingers brushed over glassy eyes. He flinched, pulling his arm back.

  “Thor?” a voice came from behind him.

  Freddy turned around, finding Travis standing there.

  Travis sprinted forward, pushing Freddy aside as he lunged. “Thor!? Thor!?” He breathed heavily as he touched the man’s cracked face with a shivering hand. “Oh, Thor… You used it… Why did you use it?”

  “Travis…” Freddy called.

  “Why did he use it!?” the man shouted, sobbing and shaking. “Who came!? Oh, god… He told me to stay away. Why did I listen…?”

  “You should prepare the others to evacuate.”

  “And where the hell are you going!?” Travis spat as he jumped to his feet and grabbed Freddy by what little was left by his shirt. “Huh!? You were here! Why didn’t you do anything!?” He limply punched him in his chest. “Why the hell… In his last moments…

  “Why were you to one by his side?”

  Freddy pushed Travis away, and the man stumbled. He scowled at him. “I didn’t come here to watch the man die, you fucking asshole. Now go. If they’ve sent someone like that, the rest will no doubt come to finish the job soon.” He turned around and started walking towards the road.

  “And what about you? Are you running away?”

  Freddy froze. Then he chuckled, wiping at his nose with his left arm. He slowly turned around. “I’ll give it all away,” he declared, his eyes empty of all emotion. “Until there’s nothing left. As I should have, a long time ago.”

  He slowly walked towards the road. As soon as he stepped on it, he pulled out his motorcycle and mounted it.

  Before long, he was in his apartment. There, he picked up the stash of items he needed. It was all packed into a large cloth bag. But as soon as he grabbed hold of it, he felt all his strength vanish. He tumbled to his knees and caught himself on his elbows.

  He felt his own words echoing in his mind.

  Leviathan’s Fu—

  Leviathan’s Fu—

  Leviathan’s—

  He vomited on the floor. He spotted shards of blood metal in the puke. The acid burned the cuts in his throat.

  He took a moment to calm his breathing and then got back to his feet. He grabbed the bag. And he headed outside.

  The rain had started pouring. Lightning crackled all across the sky, coiling angrily. It all washed over him. The people on the way looked at him strangely. And there were very few delvers around the interspace. He knew where they were likely headed. “I have to hurry.”

  He made his way into the interspace. The path forward was seared into his mind.

  His steps brought him to the caverns filled with poisonous smoke and sharp, thorny plants. He plowed through it all, and before he knew it, he was grabbing hold of the metallic barrier that he’d haphazardly strewn over his destination.

  The pitch void of the entrance to the dungeon made him hesitate for a brief moment.

  Just. Leave. Heal your friend. And be happy.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he muttered, feeling the tears dripping down the side of his face.

  And without further ado, he stepped right into the Century of Solitude.

  ***

  Travis shouted his commands, telling everyone to grab hold of only the bare necessities and to get ready.

  Many people still held faith they’d manage to run away in time. But that was a naive belief.

  For nearly an hour, he ran around like a chicken without its head.

  And then, finally, he had managed to gather everyone in the largest hall in the central building. His palms sweaty and his stomach churning, he slowly walked up to the stage and grabbed the voice amplifier.

  The looks of everyone in the crowd were like needles poking into his heart. He swallowed. “I’m going to be honest with you. We are basically just waiting for the other factions to come.”

  Gasps spread through the crowd, with many even screaming in panic.

  “If any of you want to try and run… well… it’s better if you don’t.

  “For the non-combatants, you will likely be safe. The adjudicator will certainly step in to ensure that no unnecessary bloodshed takes place here today.” He hesitated. “But that doesn’t mean we’ll be treated mercifully. As for the fighters… We’ll be imprisoned.”

  Shouts of anger and indignation echoed through the whole hall.

  “What the hell is wrong with you!?”

  “Shouldn’t we at least put up a fight?”

  “Are we going down like cowards!?”

  Travis grasped the voice amplifier. “Please remain quiet. If you run, you’ll be killed. If you fight, you’ll be killed, and your family might be harmed as well.” His voice shrunk. “Without Thor, we have no way to fight back.”

  “What about Freddy?” Someone’s voice reached him.

  Travis paused. His breathing sped up, and his hand started shaking. “What about him?”

  “Can’t he step up?”

  Travis cracked an ugly smile. “You want a peak two-star to fight off a whole damn army by himself?”

  The crowd quieted.

  Travis clicked his tongue and pinched his brow. “Look. I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up. He wasn’t exactly clear with his plans. But I believe he might have something up his sleeve.”

  A visible wave of joy rose through the crowd.

  “Do not get your hopes up!” Travis shouted. “Best case scenario, he’ll just… I don’t even know what he could possibly do. But at any rate, the worst thing we could do right now is panic. Just remain calm. Maybe we can make some sort of deal.”

  “What about Valhalla, then? What about our pride?”

  “That’s all dead. Dead and buried. Forget about it. As of today, Valhalla is done for.”

  He put the amplifier away and stepped off the stage. As soon as he did, he was mobbed by an angry crowd of people. On all sides, arms and voices reached for him, but all he felt was numbness, and all he heard was a high-pitched buzzing in his ear.

  Freddy… You… Please.

  Do something.