The dungeon entrance opened before Yami like some fearsome predator's maw, excavated out of ancient stone and etched in spooky, macabre runes. A chill breeze wafted out from within, carrying a hint of rot. The voice in his head, the voice of the god:
"Step forward, Deathbringer. Death awaits."
Yami sighed, shrugging his shoulders. "Yes, yes. I know. Murder things, level up. Don't have to say it like that."
With no option, he went in.
The moment he stepped across the threshold, there came a shift in the air about him. The illumination of the outside faded at once, absorbed in blinding blue torches strung out along stone walls. The path in front of him ran in darkness, and distant thunderings boomed in echoing passages.
Yami glanced down at his fingers as he wrapped and relaxed them. That unusual energy prior—the scythe—it had felt like second nature, as if he'd had it forever. But would it be enough?
Guess I'll find out.
A sudden noise in the bushes had caused him to freeze. Three goblins came out of cover, beady little eyes staring at him. Small and stoop-shouldered, they had greenish hide, jagged teeth, and crude rusting daggers. They hissed harshly before charging.
Yami exhaled. "Okay, three goblins. That isn't so bad."
He raised his hand, focusing on the iciness in him. Black mist churned around his hand, coalescing once more in the same form as before—a jagged, inky-black scythe, radiant in the torchlight.
The goblins came head-on, weapons in hand.
Yami took a step and vanished.
In an instant he had returned at them, scythe in swing.
SLASH! The first goblin had his head sliced right off, his body thumping down before he could possibly be able to know what had taken place. The second had no time at all in which to scream before Yami whipped back his scythe and thrust it in his chest. The third panicked and tried to run away—but darkness-shrouded chain shot out of Yami's spare hand and ensnares his leg and pulls it back.
"Where do you think you're going?" sneered Yami.
With a sudden jerk at his wrist, he yanked at the chain, sending the goblin hurling towards him—a throw at his outstretched scythe.
A quick, clean cut. Silence followed.
The goblins' forms melted in a misty cloud of inky darkness, and there in mid-air floated three glowing lumps of souls. They looked like little spheres of moving darkness, faintly glowing.
Yami tilted his head. "Mmm. Treasure dropped."
He reached out and grasped in for the spheres. A voice he recognized came echoing in his head in a flash.
"Soul Absorbed. Reaper's Will increased +1%."
Yami blinked. "Wait, I have a system in percentages?" His hand clenched and for a split second he could feel a trickle of power in his system. It wasn't much but it was there—a trickle in an ocean in the making.
"Okay, so the more I kill, the more of the god's power I unlock." He grinned. "Now this is my mind of leveling system."
He turned towards the rear of the dungeon. More snarling could be heard in there. If this is just the vanguard wave of creatures, things would be much better.
Gripping his scythe tightly, Yami walked forwards.
Time to harvest.