Last Life

BACK IN MY PHYSICAL BODY, I opened my eyes and took a deep, greedy breath of fresh air as if I had just emerged from a long dive into deep water.

It took me a few seconds to get my bearings and determine what exactly was happening. The first thing I noticed was that the horrible pain in my shoulder had subsided, as had any trace of the black mark inside the flesh surrounding the spearhead.

I was lying on a small, mesa-shaped piece of rock with my arms and legs tied down. Instead of ropes, though, my body was being held in place by that same familiar coal-black vine. Unlike the black web from earlier in the battle with the Ghosts, however, the vine wasn’t actually holding my body down at all; instead, it was holding firmly onto the aura surrounding my limbs.

I tried to move. As soon as I did so, the vine reacted like a huge constrictor, squeezing its rings and driving its magical thorns deeper into my aura. The parasite reacted immediately. It sent a blast of golden mana into my aura, but that didn’t damage the black thorns in the slightest.

Essentially, they were in totally different weight categories. My reserve of mana was just a drop in the bucket compared to the amount of energy inside the massive brown brut that was providing the demon with the power for his webs and snares. On the other hand, that was no reason to stop trying.

I closed my eyes and took several slow, deep breaths to calm myself down. After regaining my composure, I opened my eyes and looked around.

The elevated piece of rock on which I was lying was tilted slightly downward toward my legs, which allowed me to see everything around me without too much difficulty.

I was still in the same hall as before, but in another section. Right behind the enormous brut, on which the demon was still sitting.

Khaldrekar’s eyes were closed. His face looked like it had turned to stone. After spreading his clawed hands to the sides, the demon froze, looking like a statue of some sort of ancient, bloodthirsty creature.

He was crawling around on all fours, running his fingers intently across a series of stone plates and occasionally turning to wet his hand in a deep dish of solid gold. The color of the liquid, as well as the smell that was palpable even from where I was lying, made it pretty clear that the dish was full of blood. Every dash of liquid quickly spread out into rows of symbols, which were clearly letters in some language I wasn’t familiar with.

I glanced to the side. A little farther away, I could see the cages from the menagerie, along with the dismembered bodies of the animals who had been living inside them. These bodies had been laid out in rows not far from the strange “bed” where I was lying. The heavy stench of blood, shredded entrails, and animal feces hung in the air. Apparently, much more time had passed out here than in the Reverse.

I also spotted several other Ghosts, and this time I noticed the lanky figures of Duval, Molchun, and Togrul standing among them. All three of them were busy cutting up the bodies of the Shadow beasts, extracting their bruts, and handing them to other pointy-eared Ghosts in priestly clothing.

The crystals in the priests’ hands were huge, and filled to the brim with mana. After taking their bruts in their hands, the priests were bringing them to other parts of the blood-soaked ritual circle with my “bed” standing right in the middle of it.

Examining the chief priest’s bloody work of art in true vision, I noticed brown energy lines running beneath the huge outline. These mana channels were covered with ugly, sloppy-looking black cords, which were devouring brown mana like insatiable lampreys.

I checked to see where the black cords were running to. The spirits from the Reverse were right... Khaldrekar still hadn’t recovered his full strength. More than that, a closer examination revealed that the demon hadn’t even acquired a full physical body yet. The gigantic brown brut was feeding Khaldrekar with its mana, but it also served as a sort of anchor that kept him locked in this underground temple.

My scan also revealed that the black cords were only wrapped around the largest of the brown roots that stretched out from the base of the huge brut, and that many of the narrower channels were still totally free. Several of them ran right across the small elevation where I was lying.

I could use that to my advantage. At my command, the golden parasite formed a tentacle (so thin I could barely see it, even in true vision) and stretched it out toward the brown root beneath me.

The most difficult part would be threading a path between the branches of the magical vine that was holding me in place. Right up until the last moment, I expected the scheme to fail. With every passing second, I expected the black cables to react with another vicious, aggressive squeeze. But it never came. Apparently, the vine didn’t perceive the tiny golden thread as a threat.

Several heartbeats later, the parasite tapped into the brown channel. A very thin — but constant — flow of mana started to pour into my aura.

With a mental smile, I started forming the next golden thread...

Suddenly, I sensed some movement to my left, and a familiar female face bent down over me. It was as gray and motionless as a wax mask. I glanced down at her priestly robes and blood-smeared hands, in which she was holding a big lilac brut.

“Venona of Clan Frostwind has not forgotten your name, Max Renard,” I heard her whisper quietly. Not a single muscle on her face moved as she spoke.

“So you survived,” came my dry response. “And the Shadow didn’t devour you.”

Cocking her head to the side, she continued.

“The descendant of the ancient enemy freed Venona and helped her survive. She followed his tracks and discovered his boat.”

I frowned. My heart felt tight in my chest.

“The river carried Venona to the lands of the Lao. When they learned who had saved her, they took her in and fed her. Before leaving, Venona heard of the temple of Meemeeteh and the Heart of the Forest.”

I felt a spasm seize the muscles in my throat. My insides felt like they had just collapsed in on themselves. Rage was building inside me and squeezing my rib cage like an unseen vise.

The faces of the people who had once sheltered me started to pass before my eyes. Mongwo, Sal, Togh...

I felt anger boiling up inside me. Every heartbeat felt like a peal of thunder in my ears.

No, I thought... I can’t afford to lose concentration... Not now... Five more golden threads snaked their way past the sharp, curved thorns...

Leaning in closer, Venona continued in a conspiratorial whisper.

“Max Renard is the first person Venona has told about her discovery.” Suddenly, the features of the girl’s face twisted.

Her lips slowly spread into a smile, but one that was utterly devoid of warmth. It was thin and stretched, as if someone had carved it into her waxen mask of a face with a knife.

“She has been waiting for the right moment for a very long time.” Her pupils narrowed like those of a predator spotting its prey. Her facial muscles tensed, and the barely-noticeable change in her expression created a sense of profound internal triumph that was about to break through to the surface. “Today, my lord will learn of the Heart of the Forest, which will give him even more Power! And then Venona will become his High Priestess!”

Her chin became sharper as her jaw muscles clenched. The face that had so recently looked smooth and detached was suddenly full of sadistic cruelty. She seemed to be savoring every moment of the transformation, as if she were finally able to relish a new identity that no longer required her to remain indifferent or conceal anything about who she was.

The sight sent an involuntary twitch through my shoulder, and I felt the black vine sink deeper into my aura. With a frozen heart, I checked my golden threads. There were already several dozen of them, and they were all still in place...

Venona’s smirking face receded into the distance again. Before turning around and resuming her work, she spat:

“Max Renard should have listened to his companions that day and killed Venona...”

With that, the priestess disappeared from my sight. A moment later, I heard the voice of the demon. He was clearly addressing the elder priest.

“If you miss so much as a single symbol, meaningless worm, you will regret ever having come into this world.”

The old priest shuddered with surprise as he pressed his bald head tightly against his shoulders. Then, however, he overcame his fear and replied in a shaky, squeaky voice:

“Everything will be rendered perfectly, my lord. You can count on me.”

“As I counted on those vermin that the warlock killed so easily?” Khaldrekar’s voice was heavy with disdain.

“You’re right, my lord,” the old man replied eagerly. “Had it not been for your timely intervention, the auring would have killed us all.”

“Auring?” The demon scoffed. “It’s far too early to refer to this amateur by that name. He’s nothing but a pale shadow of our ancient enemy. Nevertheless, he has enough power to serve as an adequate vessel. When that happens, I won’t have to waste time sitting in this place of power. Furthermore, it will greatly ease the task of finding the Eye of the Abyss, which this motley rabble on the side of light has hidden away from us.”

“Your wisdom knows no bounds, my lord,” the old man nodded joyfully as he continued smearing blood across the stone. “This warlock will become the key, and then our Lord will finally return and punish all those who have ever dared to stand against him! And avenge us on all those who have betrayed us!”

“Right you are, worm!” The demon laughed. “Very soon, everyone will receive their just desserts! By engineering the break, the warlocks have outsmarted themselves. They released a power into this world that will one day devour everything they have sacrificed so much to defend.”

“Yes, my lord, yes!” The old priest sounded genuinely enthralled.

“Silence, miserable worm!” The demon cut him off, before adding: “And hurry up. It’s time for the ritual.”

“Yes, yes, my lord, of course,” the old priest stammered as he rose to his feet. “I’ve just finished. Everything is ready.”

The demon folded his clawed hands together, and his lipless mouth broadened into an impatient smile. His gaze swept across the bloody writing all around him, as his elongated head started to nod in time with his thoughts.

“You did it, worm!” He finally spat; then, with a wave of his hand, he snarled: “Now get out of the circle.”

With a speed that was surprising given his age, the old man hopped to his feet and hurried to do as the demon had commanded. A moment later, Khaldrekar rose from his seat, spread his arms wide, and began to speak in a language I couldn’t understand. It was a series of dull, snarling sounds that sent a chilly wave down my spine.

Everything around began to ring as the vibrations of his voice echoed through the hall. Even the crystals and the blood in the bowls began shimmering and rippling in time with his voice. The huge brown brut started to shine from within as lines of black mana spread out across its surface like capillaries.

Slowly, Khaldrekar lifted his hands above his head, and the light from the brut grew brighter. The black cords on the floor began to slither; they seemed to come to life as they stretched toward the center of the brut like a mass of tentacles. All the Ghosts in the room began to step away, watching as these energy tendrils merged with the bloody symbols on the stone plates. As each word rang out, the brown light grew brighter and brighter, and the air in the hall became denser and heavier.

I could feel the black vine around me squeezing me tighter, pushing its thorns ever deeper into my aura. The thin golden threads I had sent out began to vibrate like tightly-wound guitar strings.

Golden mana started to penetrate back into my aura, encountering fierce resistance from the dark tendrils that were holding me down. A ringing sound erupted into my head, and my muscles were tensed to the breaking point, but I kept up the flow of energy. Slowly but surely, I could feel the grip begin to weaken.

“The tribe of the foxes.” I had gotten so distracted by my struggle with the vine that I had missed the moment when the demon stopped uttering his spell and turned to face me. His tone, as ever, was one of mockery and disdain. “I forgot just how devious you can be. Don’t even think about trying to flee, little fox... Nothing will come of it.”

As he finished speaking, death mana began to surge down the black energy channels like motor oil. The tendrils of the vine grew thicker as the mana began to pulse inside them. Their thorns lengthened and punched through my defense, then into my skin and finally all the way into my energy system.

Every new thorn brought a flash of burning pain, as if a poisoned needle were sinking into my flesh and tearing up all the tissue it passed through. My body started to shudder, and it felt like molten steel was coursing through my blood vessels.

The black mana started to spread through my system like a snake’s poison, trying to devour my energy system as it came closer and closer to my magic reservoir.

I tried not to let the terrible pain deprive me of my ability to reason, but this became increasingly difficult as the poison began to spread into every cell in my body. My mind felt like a wounded, raging beast, but I kept fighting. As I did so, however, I realized that the demon was getting the upper hand.

Getting rid of the tendrils that bound me no longer seemed possible: the black vine was too deeply embedded in my aura, and my defenses were totally gone.

The thought of attempting a counterattack briefly crossed my mind. But how? How could I possibly attack a demon who was protected by an energy shield, and whose energy reserve was practically bottomless?

For just a moment, I got distracted and shot a hateful glance up at the dark silhouette seated atop the brown crystal...

Hold on! What if...?

I concentrated, and gave my parasite a command. The beast complied immediately, and stretched its tendrils into the brown energy channels below the floor; meeting no resistance, it sent them racing hurriedly toward the center of the massive crystal.

My heart stood still as I watched the golden threads sink deeper and deeper into the huge brut, making their way slowly through the channels like plant roots in search of water.

Every time a thread snaked its way into a fresh brown channel, I felt something akin to an electric shock as the streams of brown mana unexpectedly synchronized into rhythm with my own pulsating mana.

Finally, I felt one of the threads reach the protective shell that surrounded the heart of the brut — and the ancient source of power opened up to me! It allowed me to make use of its mana!

The golden parasite started mixing its own mana with the brown influx and modifying the resulting mana structure. Even in the circumstances, lying there on a big sacrificial altar, I could sense the parasite’s impatient excitement.

The demon, who had been totally engrossed in his ritual up to that point, suddenly jerked his head to the side, as though he could sense that something was wrong.

The black mana around me expanded and squeezed the vine even tighter until the pressure was almost literally unbearable. My aura actually began to crack under its weight. But I didn’t let it stop me. The golden parasite was no longer operating independently. We had fused into a single, unified organism. The beast had finally become an integral part of me. I was devouring brown mana, modifying it, and lopping the black tentacles off the sides of the enormous brut, weakening the demon’s power as I did so.

Khaldrekar, who had finally realized what was happening, turned his head to face me. Rage flashed across his eyes, and he growled something in his unfamiliar language.

The black cords around the brut began to tremble as they tried to resist my invasion. But I kept pressing, sending mana into the weakest spots.

At a certain point, I felt something crack inside the jet-black covering that surrounded the brown brut. From there, the death magic began to behave erratically. The cords of black mana began to writhe and vibrate like insane snakes. The demon had lost his concentration...

Khaldrekar let out a roar, and this time it wasn’t just filled with rage. It was also full of fear. Several thick golden tentacles wrapped themselves around his defensive dome. In an instant, the first thin cracks began to ripple out across its surface.

I saw Khaldrekar’s clawed hands clench into fists. No matter how he tried, he simply couldn’t regain control of the situation. The brown brut was covered in golden tendrils by that point, and it was no longer his to command.

Suddenly bereft of its power source, the black vine holding my body in place quickly began to crumble until it was nothing but a huge ribbon of ash on the floor. Finally, I was able to sit up. My entire body was one big, grisly-looking wound.

I looked up and noticed the impotent despair in Khaldrekar’s eyes. We had essentially just switched places. He couldn’t attack me; it was taking all his energy and concentration just to maintain his shield.

“Kill him!” The demon roared, and every Ghost in the massive hall jumped up and started running toward me.

But none of them even got close. Golden tentacles began to burst up out of the ground, shattering the stone floor as they whirled into a vicious attack on every gray-skinned opponent in the room. The screams and wails of the dying echoed through the hall.

But I wasn’t even paying attention to the Ghosts anymore. I scooped a massive portion of mana straight out of the heart of the brown brut and sent it hurtling toward the demon’s shield. A bright flash illuminated the entire vast space of the hall, and I felt the wave of energy smash through the demon’s final barrier.

His shield began to crack again, and soon there was a web of deep cracks all across its entire surface. The light of my golden mana was getting brighter all the time as it became more saturated and powerful.

Khaldrekar let out a furious roar, but it was already too late. The cracking of his magical shield was getting louder and louder, and soon it collapsed entirely in a shower of black energy shards that rained down onto his body.

I didn’t waste a single second; golden tentacles were already flying toward him when the shield fell. Glowing gold in the darkness, the huge tendrils plunged into his translucent torso and limbs like a flurry of crossbow bolts. Golden mana began to spread like a prairie fire through his energy system, destroying it from the inside. I had already seen something like this in the Reverse.

Khaldrekar began to scream in pain as his elongated face twisted into a horrifying grimace of agony. He tried to raise his arms, but his movements were ragged and awkward. His internal organs were breaking and collapsing inside him with every passing second. The golden tentacles kept moving, smashing their way through his energy system and driving ever deeper toward his reservoir.

“You...” He began to speak in a hoarse growl, but then his speech abruptly stopped.

His big, claw-studded paws fell limply to the floor as the energy that had maintained his translucent body began to dissipate. The black cords snaking their way through the hall suddenly trembled, then began to crumble to dust.

Under the golden mana’s onslaught, the demon’s translucent body started dissolving into the air, and what remained of his black mana swirled together inside the brown brut, whose surface was already pockmarked with golden tendrils. Finally, Khaldrekar’s dark silhouette disappeared without a trace in a faint whirl of golden light.

And with that, the vast underground hall was plunged into a deathly, ringing silence...