I tracked René.
Telepathy helped me a lot in tracking him down. And not to forget the most crucil skill I used. The maxed out [Tracking] skill.
It took two days.
He was holed up near Cap-Haïtien.
When I found him, he was already waiting.
Dressed in white, eyes painted black, hands red with dry blood. A knife lay across his knees.
"You shouldn't have come," he rasped.
"Neither should you have waitedt," I said.
His head tilted. "You are that confident in yourself?"
I took one step forward. "I sure am."
He didn't answer.
But before he could do much my System had done it's magic.
[Skill Copied: Haitian Vodou Ritual Invocation (Lvl 6)]
[Skill Copied: Spirit Channeling – Lvl 3]
[Skill Copied: Curses Lvl 3]
[Skill Copied: Blood Magic – Lvl 5]
Within seconds, I had what he knew.
He had just started moving.
One hand slashed across the air, scattering a line of blood from his palm onto the dirt. The circle around him ignited—no flame, just light, blue and green, pulsing like a heartbeat. He muttered three words under his breath.
The air buckled.
A gust slammed into me not physically but mentally. It was a curse. The pain of hundred spirits combined into a single curse.
I didn't flinch.
Because I had way to powerful mental defences to be swayed by his mental curse.
I raised my hand. Blood still fresh on my skin. My own blood, drawn seconds before. A move I just learned.
[Blood Magic – Lvl 5: Initiated]
The spell hit midair—two forces locking like opposing tides. Dust spiraled up from the jungle floor, trees groaning as energy lashed out.
René pulled a bone knife from his robe and dragged it through the air, carving a glowing sigil. The moment it was complete, it detonated.
The world went quiet. My hearing vanished.
Every nerve in my body twisted. My limbs froze for half a second.
I knew what it was. After all I learned it just moments before. Bone Paralysis Curse.
But I dispelled easily using my Chi. Having the knowdlege of how the spell worked helped dispell it way easier.
My body stopped for half a second but then I snapped my body oout of the curse.
I lunged through the residual spell, ignoring the slight tearing sensation across my muscles. My hand caught the edge of his circle—and disrupted it.
His eyes widened.
I drove my knee into his gut. He stumbled back, coughing blood. But he wasn't done.
He hissed one word—"Simityè"—and stabbed the air.
The ground cracked open behind him.
A spirit rose—twisted, eyeless, mouth sewn shut. It lunged for me.
I didn't dodge. I opened my mind.
[Spirit Channeling – Lvl 3]
The spirit hesitated.
I reached into it—telepathically —and yanked.
It screamed.
Then it crumbled.
René saw it, and for the first time, he looked afraid.
"You… you can command them too."
"Yes," I said. "I can do much more than what you can think off."
He charged once again.
No more spells. Just raw rage. His blade was fast—deceptively fast for a man his age.
But I was faster.
I stepped inside his swing, caught his wrist, and shattered it with a single twist. The bone cracked like dry wood.
His other hand came up, clutching a talisman.
He screamed something in Petro Creole—one last curse, aimed at my heart.
I let it hit.
Let it pass through me.
And then smiled.
"Nice try," I said. "But I don't believe in damnation."
Then I struck.
One palm to his sternum, chi-enhanced—not enough to kill.
But I followed with a second blow.
His spine cracked. He dropped to his knees, gasping.
I then reached into his mind telepathically.
I took everything I came for.
Names. Magic Incantaitons. Rituals. And the most omportant of all the amulet's location.
Then I stepped behind him, wrapped my arm around his throat.
And I broke his neck.
He dropped like a stone.
The cave fell silent.
I stood alone for a moment.
And then walked away.
---
The Amulet of Damballah was once whole.
Centuries ago, it shattered in battle. Its two halves split across the Caribbean. One ended up in Haiti. The other, lost somewhere near the old sugar ports of Cuba.
I now had the first half—unearthed from the loacation from René's memories..
The metal was warm. I could feel the magic buzzing inside it.
[Artifact: Amulet of Damballah (Left Half)]
[Description: Mystical artifact that possess the ability to summon and control the animated dead. Also known as the Talisman of Damballah, these items are mystically endowed with the power of their namesake, Damballah – one of the most powerful Loa of the Voodoo religion. Each talisman is etched with the symbol of the serpent. Singularly, each amulet is capable of granting the user control over the dead, but the power only fully manifests when both amulets are used in concert.]
One part down.
One more to go.
---
Cuba was trickier.
I didn't have a trail, just the last known location: a crumbling plantation north of Santiago, abandoned during the revolt.
Locals called it "La Boca del Diablo."
Most wouldn't go near it.
That meant I would without much hassle.
I reached the site in two days. No one stopped me.
The place had been swallowed by jungle—roots ripping through the walls, moss choking the windows.
But the main hall was still intact. And in the cellar below, I found it.
Or rather—I felt it.
Using my Psychometric powers.
A battle. Screaming. Rituals. Blood soaked into stone.
Someone died holding the second half. And it never left their body.
I cracked open the wall.
The skeleton was there—jaw still open in agony, ribcage shattered.
Clutched in its bony hand: the second half.
I took it. The moment the two halves touched, they burned white-hot.
I stood in the dark with the amulet glowing in my palm.
I had it.
Now it was time to put it to use.
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