Chapter 12

  Voidstone

  The Maldrath horde surged forward, their monstrous forms blotting out what light was left, a living tide of hunger and hate. The twisted wolf-like creatures slammed into the side of the ship with bone-rattling force, their claws scraping against the battered hull as they clawed for purchase. The prisoners hurled makeshift projectiles—splintered wood, rusted scrap metal, even rocks ripped from the ship’s ballast—but they bounced harmlessly off the inky masses or sank into shadowy flesh only to be expelled as the wounds closed with unnatural speed.

  Sabo knew this futility all too well. He had seen how useless mundane weapons were against these things. Their regenerative abilities rendered cuts and blunt trauma meaningless unless dealt with in overwhelming force or through the power of aether. The projectiles tossed over the side of the ship by the prisoners were like pebbles tossed into a storm.

  His heart pounded. Instinctively, he reached inward, calling to the thing that lurked within him. The entity known as the God-Eater. A searing heat surged through his veins, molten and electric, twisting his muscles and bones. His right arm spasmed and then parted unnaturally, bone and flesh opening as the maul materialized, tearing through his flesh with sickening precision and forming comfortably in his hand’s grip. The wounds didn’t bleed; they glistened with dark, otherworldly energy as the weapon fused into his grip, solid and cold. As soon as the maul had been summoned, his arm was whole again. Sabo didn’t think he would ever adjusted to the sensation of his body producing the weapon.

  The ship shuddered under the onslaught, but the structure held, if only just. The wolf-shaped shades weren’t deterred. Instead, they shifted tactics, using their own bodies as platforms. First, the large wave slammed against the ship’s haul again, but this time sticking to the crashed ship’s side and forming what could only be described as a ramp of compressed shadow. Then, the remaining horde charged, running up the Maldrath-formed ramp in smaller, coordinated waves. As they neared the deck, their claws dug into the battered planks, dragging them upward like spiders scaling a web.

  “Shields!” the leader roared, his voice cutting through the chaos like a blade.

  A line of prisoners surged forward, lifting makeshift shields fashioned from barrel lids, scrap wood, and bits of metal lashed together. The Maldrath collided with the barrier, the force of impact rattling the defenders, but they held firm—for a heartbeat.

  The second wave came harder, faster. The shades slammed into the weakened shields, splintering them like kindling. Screams erupted as shadowy maws burst through the gaps, dragging men and women down in flashes of teeth and claws.

  Sabo moved without thinking. His body instinctively reached out for the aether emanating from the sap reserves below deck, still flush with the magical energy, and drew it in. The power filled his limbs with strength and his mind raced with the need to act. An anger erupted in the pit of his stomach.

  The maul was an extension of his rage, a blur of dark steel and violent force. He swung with brutal precision, the weapon carving through the Maldrath with ease. Unlike the futile strikes of the prisoner’s makeshift weapons and projectiles, the maul left no room for regeneration. Each impact shattered the creatures, dissolving them into wisps of dark mist and shrieks of unnatural agony.

  For the first time since the battle began, hope flickered in Sabo’s chest. The maul worked. It killed them—truly killed them—like an Ivaldi-wrought relics or the touch of magic. He gritted his teeth, his grip tightening around the haft. If this was his weapon, his curse, then so be it.

  He would use it to survive.

  The sound came like a hammer striking bone—sharp, final. From the other side of the ship, the screeching chorus of the Maldrath, a guttural chorus that sent a shudder down Sabo’s spine, mixing with screams of fear and agony. The wolves had flanked them, shadows slamming against the opposite side of the wrecked ship, clawed limbs scrambling for purchase. Panic swelled among the prisoners, another ragged scream of fear drowning beneath the monstrous howls. The Maldrath wasted no time, setting themselves onto the vulnerable humans.

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  Sabo’s mind raced. Too many. Even with the maul, there were too many of them for him to fend off at once. The entity’s mouth split wide in a grin, jagged teeth gleaming with dark ichor.

  “Nonsense,” it hissed through the weapon. “Let them come. Let them all come.” Its tongue extended from the head of the weapon, as though licking its lips. The metal surface twisted, forming a crimson, glowing eye with a black slit-like pupil at its center.

  The maul’s words stoked the flames of anger in Sabo’s belly, but as he so often did during his time working as a blacksmith’s assistant, he controlled those flames. His gaze snapped towards the man leading the prisoners in their futile fight for survival, the bearded man wielding the warden’s sword, his muscles straining as he fought to hold the line. Around his neck, the voidstone collar glinted faintly, a shackle on his Soulsinging powers.

  A thought struck Sabo like lightning. Could it work?

  “Can you eat voidstone?” Sabo muttered to the maul, swinging at a shade that lunged too close.

  The entity laughed, a sound like rusted chains dragging across stone. “Fool! I can Devour anything!”

  Sabo’s heart raced. “Look at him,” he barked, pointing to the leader. “Can you Devour his collar . . . without killing him?”

  The maul growled, considering. Then, reluctantly: “Yes.”

  Without hesitation, Sabo sprinted toward the man, dodging snapping maws and flailing limbs. The deck had broken out into a chaotic pit of battle as prisoners were chased down and slaughtered, or attempt to fend of Maldrath as long as possible. One of the wolf-shaped Maldrath leapt, landing between Sabo and where the collared man was engaged with one of its ilk.

  It growled, though the low sound was distorted, and sounded eerily like a human crying. It opened its mouth then, its bottom jaw extending unnaturally wide. Within its mouth was a large, glowing eye, as though the wolf-creature had swallowed a miniature moon. The eye pulsed and the air between him and the wolf quaked.

  Sabo’s [Aura Sense] instinctively triggered and he could see the air shimmer. Then, he felt something slam into his mind. The sudden urge to drop his weapon and curl into a tight ball bombarded him. He gritted his teeth and pushed back against it. If I wasn’t going to let this maul toy with my mind, what makes you think you stand a chance?

  A guttural scream of rage tore through his throat as he charged the Maldrath, lifting the maul high and to the side. If the creature was surprised, it didn’t have time to show it. With a brutal swing, the head of the maul met it right between its ears, slamming its jaws closed before it was turned to black dust beneath the weapon’s might.

  A pulsing feeling filled Sabo’s mind and a notification flashed in the corner of his vision.

  [Maldrath (Class: Walker) Devoured: 11]

  [New Ability: Aura of Fear]

  Sabo didn’t pause. He blinked, dismissing the notification. His heart hammered as he dashed through the dark particles that hung briefly in the air before fading to nothingness.

  He skidded to a halt beside the collared leader, breath ragged. “I can get that thing off you,” he shouted over the din.

  The man’s eyes flashed, distrust mingling with desperation. “And why the hell should I trust you?”

  “Because you’re about to die with it on.”

  That earned a grim chuckle. After a beat, the man nodded sharply. “Do it.”

  Sabo lifted the maul, its grotesque mouth widening, dripping ichor. He felt something quake deep within him, then a notification flickered at the edge of his senses.

  [DEVOUR]

  The maul’s tongue lashed out, sinewy and slick, wrapping around the voidstone collar. The stone hissed and smoked as it disintegrated, the fragments pulled into the maw with a sickening crunch. Black acrid smoke billowed from its jagged teeth as it swallowed the last piece.

  The grizzly man gasped, stumbling back, free hand instinctively going to his bare neck. Then he grinned. “Name’s Maro. Thanks, stranger. I owe you one if we survive this night.”

  Before Sabo could respond, there came a sharp tug on his sleeve. He turned and looked down to see the white-haired woman, her crimson eyes burning into his. She didn’t speak. Just pointed to her own collar.

  Sabo nodded. If they were going to survive, they needed all the help they could get. “Hold still.”

  The maul hungrily latched onto her collar, the same dark process unfolding. As the voidstone crumbled, she inhaled deeply, like someone tasting air for the first time in years. Power surged around her, raw and vibrant. Sabo’s [Aura Vision] flared to life on its own to see the immense amount of aether the woman was drawing from beneath the ship. She shone like a firefly under a cloudy night sky. The air thickened as both she and Maro drew in aether, the invisible force crackling in the space between heartbeats.

  Then, like a dam bursting, they unleashed it.

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